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harryspet · 3 months ago

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lonely little lamb | r. cameron

[warnings] dark!stepbrother!rafe x stepsister!reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader, dd/lg dynamic, mentions of violence/blood, somnophilia, stalker!rafe, DUBCON, emotional/mental manipulation, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: happy OBX4! This was written before the new season :) Dividers by @/ghoulbloggerrr

In which Rafe knows your secret and just how perfect you'd be together.

word count: 7.2k

rafe cameron masterlist

Rafe didn’t catch on immediately. At first, he just thought you were strange, his expectations already tainted by what he'd assumed about you. He’d been prepared for his stepmother’s daughter to be a brat, and on the surface, you fit that mold perfectly. But there was something off about the way you acted around him. You never played innocent, never tried to charm him or win him over like you did with everyone else. You gave him sharp glances at the dinner table when he talked back to Ward and even angrier stares when he disrespected your mother. You never hung around after dinner, always rushing to go back to your room, and “call your friends from back home”. Of course, Rafe listened at your door often and he never heard you making any calls. Having grown up in the house, he felt entitled to know what was happening within its walls.

Your behavior puzzled Rafe to the point of obsession. He woke up every morning to check if your car was still in the driveway and easily memorized your schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you attended classes in the morning at the local community college. On the other days of the week you sat through your online classes. You never ate too early, always going for a late breakfast that usually consisted of avocado toast, a bowl of fruit, and you always came down to refill your “sippy cup”. That’s what Rafe had dubbed it. It was clear, decorated with a stencil design of a baby lamb and had a flip-up spout for easy drinking. You didn’t go many places without it.

It was the small things that fascinated him. The comfort items you clung to, the simple routines that made your life feel organized and secure. You usually took a bubble bath about thirty minutes after dinner, and when you forgot to lock your door, Rafe would slip into your room, drawn by the intimacy of your private world.

He picked up items around your room, like the frame you kept beside your bed. It held a photo of you and your mom: you in your old high school cheerleading uniform, hair pinned back in pigtails, while your mom smiled widely beside you. Despite her cheerful expression, your eyes in the picture looked wistful and lonely. Rafe couldn’t help but imagine you now, with adult curves and eager eyes, wearing that outfit. The thought stirred something in him, making him hard, and he had to tuck himself away, cursing under his breath. At least if you walked in, he wouldn’t be caught in the act.

The more he learned about you, the harder it was to quiet these thoughts. He had always found you pretty, but now his body and mind were becoming obsessed with you. He made a habit of collecting a pair of your panties from the hamper before leaving. He needed them for later, for the release that he craved, driven mad by the scent of you.

The sound of soft, melodic music flowed into your bedroom from behind the bathroom door. Sometimes it was girly pop songs, other times classical, but more often than not, it had the gentle, soothing quality of nursery music. Your bed was always neatly made, draped in a floral quilt, and you kept the same stuffed animals on top, meticulously placed. A small chesnut brown teddy bear, white bunny, and a tiny stuffed lamb. Each one had their own white ribbon wrapped around its neck, tied into a bow.

One time he caught a glimpse of your nighttime skin care routine. You removed the light makeup you always wore and used about ten different products that Rafe didn’t recognize, nor could he guess their use. The last layer was always a light layer of lip balm and Rafe always leaned a bit closer when your puckered your lips in the mirror. His mind easily wandered to idea of your lips around him.

You wouldn’t look so lonely, little lamb, if you just let me in.

He had his suspicions about the secret, kinky things you were into. There had to be a reason you spent so much time by yourself. He didn’t get the answers he was looking for until one night when you’d left your laptop, unlocked on your desk. He took the opportunity to program his fingerprint into it too, just in case he needed to snoop again.

He combed through your social media, public and private, and started checking your messages daily, keeping track of who you talked to, what you were up to. Your public social media was perfect. A mix of selfies with soft lighting, photos of cute coffee shops, and other things you deemed as your “aesthetic”.

It was your camera roll that finally gave Rafe the answers he had been searching for. One folder, marked with a delicate pink heart, caught his attention immediately. Inside were photos of you, taken in front of your floor-length mirror. Each picture was eerily similar, the same vacant, wide-eyed expression on your face, as though you were lost in some faraway place.

You wore pajamas he’d never seen before, soft and childlike. Sometimes it was pastel-colored footie pajamas, other times it was nightgowns in soft shades of pink, lavender, or baby blue. In a few, you were bundled up in fuzzy socks or slippers with floppy bunny ears. Your hair was always styled with bows, either pink or white. There was a strange innocence in these details, one that clashed with the tension building inside Rafe as he scrolled through the images.

Sometimes you were biting down on your nails, others your thumb rested in your mouth, but most of the time you were gripping one of your stuffed animals tight to your chest.

You looked...adorable. But in a way that made Rafe’s pulse quicken with something darker. The softness, the vulnerability you displayed in those photos, fed his obsession.

Another folder marked with a unicorn emoji held more photos that you’d saved. He recognized some of the characters from children’s TV shows he remembered Wheezie watching. Others were pictures from Disney movies, and Rafe quickly realized you had a special preference for the princesses. You seemed drawn to Cinderalla, Belle, and Snow White. It offered a glimpse into your mind, into your fantasies, how you were drawn to things with an air of purity and sweetness.

Rafe’s heart slowed when a message popped up from someone named Mr. Hayes. Been thinking about you all day, sweetheart. The message said. A moment later, another one came. How was ur bath?

Rafe opened the text thread and began to scroll. Each word that he read made his blood boil. There were too many messages for him to read. You’d sent him photos of yourself, let him call you pet names, and you’d even gone so far as calling him… Daddy. He’d never sent you a photo but that didn’t seem to matter. You were willing to share the details of your life with him.

Rafe’s vision blurred with rage. Daddy. This virtual fantasy, a stranger who you didn’t even know, did not deserve your affection. He decided then you were his, whether you knew it or not.

Rafe decided then to also make it a habit to check your messages.

Several weeks later, you’d finally convinced Mr. Hayes to meet you in person. Rafe couldn’t let that happen. As your stepbrother and your protector, it would be wrong of him to let some stranger hurt you. Besides, he’d become obsessed to the point where now he was dying to know exactly who this man was.

You didnd’t know any better, but he did.

“Hey,” Rafe spoke to you the afternoon before your secret rendevouz, interrupting your fruit cutting, “My Dad just texted. Him and your Mom aren’t going to make it back tonight. There flight keeps getting delayed so they’re going to stay the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh, okay,” You replied simply, returning back to your task again.

“Wheezie’s sleeping at a friends and I’m probably going to a party at Kelce’s,” You gave him a look, as if it was strange to be conversating with him alone without the presence of the rest of their blended family, “...Do you want to come? It’ll be fun.”

You shook your head, “No, thank you. I’ll just stay in.”

Rafe leaned on the marble countertop, staring across the kitchen island at you, “I don’t think I’ve seen you go out one time since you moved in.”

Rafe’s sudden interest in your habits had become more noticeable lately, but you figured it was nothing, just him being Rafe, always lurking in the background, watching everyone, everything. Your mother had warned you that she thought something was off about him and living with him over the past nine months had sealed the fact that you didn’t trust him.

You didn’t trust many people at all, actually, never having had a stable home life. Your mother had always had money, or at least latched on to men who had money, but those men came and went. Even your mother wasn’t someone you could count on. She’d uprooted your life more than once, moving you across states just to be with a man who could give her the lifestyle she believed she deserved.

Mr. Hayes had offered you comfort in this transitional time. You had no one to confide your secret in accept for the communities you found online. It made you anxious to even think about finding a partner one day and having to explain this side of you. Friends on the internet wouldn’t judge you.

But online, the stakes felt lower. The people you spoke with, people like Mr. Hayes, didn’t judge. The risk of being truly seen, and rejected, was something you couldn’t handle. Not yet.

You paused what you were doing, knife hovering over a piece of strawberry, “You really want to spend the night alone. On a Friday night?”

Rafe sauntered around the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made a shiver run down your spine. He knew he was handsome. With his short blonde hair and blue eyes that always had a raging storm behind them. His gold ring and his gold watch. Most important of all, he knew he intimidated you, his size being enough to make you feel smaller than you actually were.

“I have to study,” You spoke curtly, trying to cut off the line of questioning you sensed was coming. You moved to keep cutting up your fruit but you paused again when Rafe reached out to grab a piece from the cutting board. You looked up at him as he popped the piece of strawberry into his mouth.

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe’s lips pulled into a smirk, as if he was thriving on that power, the uncpoken tension in the air. The way he could make your heart race in that mix of fear and something else he knew you’d never admit.

“Oh yeah?” Rafe placed a hand on the counter, “You have all weekend to study. C’mon, have some fun, princess.”

You took in a breath at the sound of the pet name. He hadn’t ever called you that before and for a moment it looked like he was seeing right through you.

“I-” Quickly, you turned your head away, refocusing on the task, as your cheeks heated with embarrassment, “I’m okay, thanks.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to come out,” Rafe continued, his voice smooth, almost coaxing, “You got secret plans or something?”

“No,” You said quickly, “I told you, I’m studying.”

Rafe let out a dry chuckle, no real amusement behind it, “You sure you’re not just hiding?”

“It’s not your business,” You snapped finally, your tone icy, “And I… I don’t have to explain myself to you, Rafe. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you, princess,” You dropped the knife, your heart beating too fast, and you quickly picked up your pieces of fruit and placed them in your bowl. Rafe leaned closer, watching your every move, and the intensity of his gaze was starting to unravel you, “You’re so jumpy. It’s just me. No need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” You muttered but your fingers trembled as you grabbed ahold of your bowl of fresh fruit and your lamb cup.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Rafe took another step closer and you backed away from the counter.

“Stop it,” Your frustration flared, unsure of why exactly Rafe was trying to stir you up. Your lips pressed together and you tried to stop your reaction, but with him towevering over you, invading your space, you felt effectively suffocated. It wasn’t until your back was pressed into the stainless steal fridge, your bowl the only thing protecting you from being pushed against Rafe, that you actually flinched.

“Hey,” Rafe lifted on arm, casually bracing his hand on top of the fridge as he looked down at you, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You swallowed hard. His voice was deceptively gentle, “Rafe–”

“I’m not trying to scare you, I promise,” Something flickered in his eyes, something you didn’t recognize, and for a moment, you questioned if you’d read this entire situation correctly, “I know how fragile you are. How scary the world can seem. I’m offering …you know …because I’d be there to protect you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

You blinked up at him. Surprisingly, there wasn’t even a hint of him trying to talk down to you. Rafe Cameon almost sounded caring. “You don’t need to be so on guard all the time,” Rafe continued.

“I just …” You couldn’t stop the way your voice softened, “I like keeping to myself. It’s not that I don’t want to be around people. I just don’t …fit in here.”

Rafe nodded, his expression understanding, and it was the first time you looked at one another as real people, “I get it. You’re not like the other girls around here. You’re smarter, quieter … softer. You can trust me though, yeah? You don’t gotta hide from me.”

For a moment, everything felt like it would be okay. Maybe Rafe had managed to see you and was willing to understand you, unlike anyone else you had met on this island. It all felt real until you focused more on his eyes. Your expression had softened, melted from frustration to wide-eyed curiosity, and that had caused a shift in his eyes. You saw that flicker of darkness that you’d seen before.

“I can look after you, ya’ know?” He said, voice dripping to a lower tone, “Help you. You don’t need to worry too much.”

Before you could respond, his other arm lifted, and you felt his fingers graze your cheek, the touch startlingly intimate.

“What are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Rafe’s jaw tightened, the mask he was wearing beginning to slip, “Don’t be like that, princess.”

“Stop,” You managed to say, “Stay away from me.”

In just a few hours, you’d finally get to meet Mr. Hayes. None of Rafe’s games would matter then. When you went silent, you watched as Rafe’s hand balled into a fist and he turned his body away.

“Suit yourself,” He’d said coldly, his void devoid of any of the warmth that was there before.

You stared down at your bowl of fruit dumbfounded for a moment too long. Princess. How did Rafe know how desperately you wanted someone to call you that?

Rafe stayed at Kelce’s party until eleven He finished his last pabst blue ribbon, said goodbye to only a handful of his friends, before he made his way to his truck. Knowing they would find it strange for him to leave so early, he mad the excuse that he was going to meet up with a girl at the Island Club.

In reality, Rafe was headed twenty minutes away, towards Winward Beach. Mr. Hayes wanted to meet you at midnight. One of the many red flags Rafe assumed you had ignored. You probably thought it was romantic, meeting at a secluded beach in the middle of the night. Like the two of you were fucking Romeo and Juliet.

Stupid, Rafe thought bitterly, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

Rafe parked his car in the small parking lot that sat near the boardwalk, turning off all of his lights, and waited for the creep to show up first. Rafe thought for a moment that neither of you might show when midnight started to approach. Maybe you’d wisened up, listened to your gut instinct that told you something wasn’t right. He didn’t believe it for long, you were too trusting. Too soft.

When a tan sedan that Rafe didn’t recognize pulled up in a parking spot close to the walkway, Rafe knew who it was. In the dark and without any streetlights, he only saw a dark figure carrying a backpack make his way towards the beachwalk. He waited until the figure made it halfway before he climbed out of his truck.

The moon was high, casting a white glow over the empty landscape.

Anger simmered beneath Rafe’s skin as he watched the man from a safe distance. He moved with a nervous energy, often glancing over his shoulder as if he was expecting to see someone. Wooden planks creaked softly under his weight but Mr. Hayes didn’t notice, not until he’d made it to the beach, and Rafe appeared behind him.

The man turned his head, eyes wide with confusion. For a moment, this was all a coincidence. Rafe was a nobody, just a stranger taking a walk on the beach, until Rafe’s lips pulled into a smile, “Not what you were expecting?”

“Who the hell are you?”

Mr. Hayes was certainly not what Rafe was expecting. A completely unremarkable middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his thinning brown hair, pale skin, lightly freckled and a slight paunch that rested over the waistband of his dreams. A complete creep. Someone completely undeserving of even being looked at by you.

Anger wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what Rafe was feeling, “You’re Mr. Hayes?”

“What?” Up close, Rafe could see the way the man's eyes started to dart around. He took another step further and the man stumbled back in the thick sand, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just–”

“You’re just a coward?” Rafe finished, his tone mocking, “I mean, I understand now why you hid your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

Rafe interrupted again, snarling, his hand lashing out to grab the front of the man’s shirt. He yanked him forward and the man’s eyes went wild with panic, “Meeting up with an innocent girl in the middle of the night? Sneaking around like a creep? What’s in that fucking bag?”

“Nothing!” Mr. Hayes struggled. Rafe couldn’t believe how weak the man was. Strong enough to overpower you, maybe, but weak. As soon as the though of this man pinning you down in the sand crossed his mind, Rafe’s eyes went wild, “Nothing, I’m sorry!”

Rafe shoved him hard and the man stumbled backwards into the sand. He towered over the man, his shadow casting long across the beach. Waves crashed loudly in the background but Rafe’s voice boomed over the sound, “I don’t think you are! You probably thought you could just take what you wanted, huh? Fucking answer me!”

The man scrambled backwards, hands digging into the sand, backward hanging awkwardly from his shoulder. Why didn’t he just drop it …if he wasn’t hiding anything, he would let it go, “I wasn’t — I didn’t mean, I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know what? That she was half your age? That she was too good for you?” Rafe’s lip curled in disgust. He knelt down, his face inches from Mr. Hayes’s as his voice dropped to a whisper, “She’s not yours. She never will be.”

“Okay,” He nodded, holding out a hand as if to put distance between them, “I just wanted to meet her. I know I lied. I’m sorry. I won’t …it won’t happen again. Believe me, it won’t happen again.”

Rafe’s head cocked to the side as he looked down at the trembling man. Without another word, he grabbed for the backpack. The man resisted, of course, a series of “Wait, wait, wait,” leaves his lips. Rafe doesn’t leave space to argue because he pushed his palm into the man’s chest, pinning him down, before he lets his fist connect with the side of the man’s face.

The man gasps, whimpers, as he curls into a ball on the sand, “F-Fuck!” The creep moans. Rafe pulls away the bag, ripping open the zipper, and dumping the contents onto the sand.

A cheap blanket, a cheap bottle of wine, and then Rafe’s eye catches on the condoms and then then the thick, coiled string of rope. Without another thought, Rafe was tackling the man, grabbing a hold of his collar, pulling him up and slamming his head into the ground over and over again. Rafe didn’t stop. He slammed his fist into the man’s face harder and harder. Each blow left a sickening crack echoing in the air.

Crack. Groan of pain. Crack. Whimper, “You though you could hurt her? Touch what’s not yours? Brutalize her?” Rafe snarled, voice low and vicious. When the man finally went unconscious, his body limp, face bloody and unrecognizable, “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s chest heaved as he stared down at his work. Nothing about the blood and broken flesh bothered him. He looked down at his hand which were covered in the man’s blood and only felt satisfied.

He’d protected you. His pulse spiked even more as he heard footsteps on the boardwalk. You’d shown up. Rafe watched you kick off flip flops and run towards them. No matter how dark it was, you were easily visible in the baby pink dress you’d chosen. The contrast between you and the violent seen before you sente a surge of protectiveness through him. He stood from where he knelt in the sand and quickly crossed the distance towards you.

You slowed as you took in the scene before you, “Rafe?” you whispered, “Rafe, what’s … that’s not …oh my god.”

Rafe grabbed you by your arms, turning your shaking body away. It was a gruesome mess, nothing you should have to see, “He’s dead,” You spoke with wide, terrified eyes, “Wh-Why? You killed him.”

“He’s not dead,” Rafe said quickly, “He’s still breathing … I had to stop him.”

You didn’t listen, you turned your head and saw the unnatural position the man laid in, “Rafe, he’s dead!”

Rafe shook you slightly, “He’s not. I promise.”

“What did you do?” You cried, tears beginning to stream down your cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” He tried to assure you, “I had not. He was going to hurt you, Y/N. Look, he brought …he brought all that shit with him. There was rope in his bag, condoms … I did this for you!”

You shook your head, trying to pull away from Rafe’s bloody hands, “You beat him?” Your voice broke under the weight of your fear, “He’s not moving. You can’t …why would you–”

Rafe’s heart twisted in his chest. He wasn’t the one you were supposed to be afraid of, “He deserved it,” Rafe said, voice quiet and serious, “C’mon, we need to get out of here.”

Rafe tried to pull you but you resisted. Easily, he lifted you into his arms, bloody hands staining your skin and now your dress, “We have to call someone!” You shouted at him, hiccuping through your tears, “Rafe, put me down!”

Rafe ignored you, strides long and steady, carrying you back towards the beachwalk. It was better for Mr. Hayes if the police weren’t involved. Undoubtely, a man like that had a record. Rafe was doing him a favor by only leaving him bloody on the beach.

In his arms, you were powerless. Your mind was reeling. Even in his bloody state, you knew the man there was not who Mr. Hayes had described himself as. Rafe could be right about all of this but it still felt wrong.

In Rafe’s truck, you sat curled up against the door, your knees pulled to your chest. A dark and empty road stretched before you, yacht rock played at a low volume in the background, and Rafe’s heavy breathing was louder than any of your thoughts.

Every few minutes, you stole a glance at him. The tension had yet to leave his body, though he was coming down from the adrenaline. His breathing was heavy but deliberate, as if he was attempting to calm himself, “I didn’t want you to see that, you know that, right?” Rafe said suddenly, breaking through the heavy silence, “Like …I know that was fucked up. You believe me, right? About what I said?”

Your throat tightened so much that your words came out strangled, “I don’t know … what to believe.”

“He was going to hurt you. If I hadn’t stepped in — If I-I hadn’t acted proactively, he would’ve hurt you. He would be hurting you right now. You know that, right?” The brutality of Mr. Hayes’s alleged actions began to cloud Rafe’s actions. He said it over and over. You couldn’t help that now you were imagining it. Maybe this was the only way to rationalize the situation. Maybe you had to believe him.

You saw the items in the sand. You saw that he’d lied about his age, about his appearance, and his intentions. He was the monster. That was the better version. Everything was a lot less wrong that way.

“Y/N,” Rafe spoke again, his deep voice rattling your ear drums, “You know that.”

You finally nodded, “Okay,” You agreed.

“Good,” Rafe seemed to let out a breath of relief. Hands still tight on the steering wheel, he tilted his head back, “He wasn’t some innocent guy. I swear that to you. Like I wouldn’t lie about that shit.”

You nodded until your head started to hurt.

“I did this for you,” Rafe said, “I’m so fucking glad you’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

“Thank you,” You whispered as you wiped the wetness from your cheeks. Your eyes caught on the dried blood that wrapped around in a band on your arm, “...Rafe?”

“Yeah, baby?” Rafe voice turned gentler as he glanced over at you.

“Did you …look at my messages?”

Rafe’s demeanor grew casual, like the worst of his anxieties had passed, “I did what I had to do,” He said, like it was a simple explanation. He didn’t seem concerned at his obvious breach of privacy. Didn’t seem to understand that the pit in your stomach was deepening.

“Then you…”

“Then I know,” He finished and you watched a sinister smile pull at his lips, “Aren’t you relieved? I know and I’m not judging you. I’ve been wanting to figure you out since I met you. And now there’s no secrets between us.”

“Rafe…” You began, your voice trembling as you tried to find the right words, “How could you?”

“I had to,” He insisted, “If I hadn’t, where would you be now? What if he had taken you? Killed you? What would that do to your mom?”

Your brows furrowed, trying to process his words, and the vile images that left in your mind, “The stuff on my phone is …private. It’s private for a reason. I don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” He countered, offering you a patronizing tone, “I know what you want, what you need. I’m happy to give you that. And I’d do a hell of better job than that waste of life on the beach.”

You connected the dots the moment those words left his lips. He wanted to be what Mr. Hayes had been to you. A caretaker. Someone to nurture your most innocent idea.

“Rafe … Ward is married to my mom,” The most logical reason that was a crazy idea came to your mind quickly.

“So?” He replied dismissevly.

“You’re my stepbrother,” Not even that registered with him, “I don’t think …it’s not what I want.”

“You don’t know what you want,” Rafe reached across the console, gently but firmly grabbing ahold of your hand. You stared back at him with wide eyes, your fear obvious especially when he took his eyes off the road, “You’re confused. You were willing to trust a man on the internet when the perfect person to take care of you is right here with you. No one else. Me.”

Feeling trapped, your next thought became calming him down. For fear of him crashing the car or never loosening his grip, you forced your expression to soften, “I know you can protect me,” You nodded your head, “And thank you for that …I shouldn’t have done what I did. It was stupid. I’m …I’m glad you care about me like that.”

Rafe squeezed your hand gently, “Yeah?”

“It’s just a lot to take in. I had no idea …I just thought you were usually annoyed with me,” You said and rafe seemed to exhale, his shoulders loosening, “I trust you, it’s just a lot to process right now.”

“I get it,” Rafe let go of your hand, but gave you no time to feel relieved, because next he placed his strong, large hand on your thigh, “I think we’re good for each other. I just have to show you, Y/N.”

Tannyhill was empty except the two of you. Your heart raced as Rafe led you upstairs to your room, hand firmly on the small of your back. When the door to the bedroom softly clicked behind you, closing the two of you in, you felt like throwing up.

You started to imagine Rafe wandering around, looking through all your things, all without your permission. He felt out of place there in your sanctuary but it was clear he’d made himself comfortable a long time a go. He led you over to the edge of your bed, and shakily, you sat down. He kneeled down in front of you, a position quite to vulnerable and intimate for you.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He asked, voice deep in concerning. Lifting one of your heels from the ground, he looked closely at your legs, as if checking for an injury.

You shook your head, know the most your body had been through tonight had been at his hands, “I’m okay,” You spoke, your voice small.

Rafe looked up at you, “It’s okay if you’re not, yeah?” Rafe said, voice softening as his hand slid further up your leg. When you pulled your leg back, his grip remained firm, possessive, “Everyone’s gone. I’m asking you to lean on me, princess.”

With no hint of asking for permission, you stared back at your stepbrother. You couldn’t help but feel as if the timing of tonight had worked out eerily in his favor. Everyone in your family was gone for the night and there was no Mr. Hayes to text about your feelings.

“I’m going to run the bath for you,” Rafe decided, lips parted as if he was deep in thought, “Yeah, stay right here.”

“I’m fine, I can do it–” You began as Rafe made his way towards your bathroom.

He held out a finger and you stopped your movements quickly, frozen by the intensity in his gaze, “Stay.”

He didn’t have to raise his voice for you to feel the threat in his tone. Somehow, this version of him was scarier than the one that relentlessly struck a man until he was unrecognizable.

The sound of running water filled the room. Closing your eyes, controlling your breathing, the sound brought you to your routine. That sound of running water was always soothing to you. It was usually how your mind was able to slip into that comforting place on the other side of your mind. Things were lighter there, a place where you had no cares at all, and you enjoyed the things that you’d normally be embarrassed by. You pressed your feet into your fuzzy white carpet, your favorite place to listen to music and do one of your coloring books. You were almost there, the water having tricked you into falling deeper, until you caught a glimpse of Rafe standing behind the door, washing blood away in the sink.

You tightened your eyes even more, shaking your head. This was certainly not the time to let down your guard.

He appeared moments later, drying his hands with one of your pink washcloths, “Come on, let’s get you ready,” He said, his head tilted towards the bathroom, his voice deceptively warm.

Your feet betrayed you and you hesitantly crossed the room. Another door between you and your life before you knew Rafe felt this way. When it closed shut, you realized you’d sealed your fate. How could it be a mistake when this was the place in life where you felt safest? To accept something was wrong meant accepting that you had nowhere left to feel warm, innocent, or child-like.

Fingers caressed your skin, lifting the hem of your dress, gently raising your arms, until you were standing in your underwear. You hadn’t realized you’d started crying again and it didn’t register how badly your lips were trembling until Rafe’s thumb caressed your bottom lip, “You’re okay,” He assured you, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You’d wanted this desperately, for someone to see you and not want to run away. You wanted someone to take care of you, someone devoted to nurturing you. Your eyes locked on Rafe’s and you felt his palm against your bottom, fingers traveling beneath the fabric of your panties. You kept your head tilted up as he leaned down, pressing lips that were softer than could’ve ever imagined, against your neck.

You melted against him.

Vanilla and strawberry swirled in the air, strong but gentle hands caressed you, and your tears started to feel more like a release than a burden. He kissed the spot on your throat that had gone sore from all tears.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” He whispered and you felt it everywhere.

After removing your bra and panties, he helped you into the bath. Quickly, the blood and tears seemed to leave your skin, as if you’d imagined them. He touched you in a way that more natural, human, than expected. With deliberate care, he moved his hands over you, an act that felt practiced.

Everything dissolved there in the warm bath, the heaviness of the entire night. Bubbles clung to your skin, and your fingers moved lazily over the surface of the water. Rafe washing you, moving a soapy washcloth over your skin, should’ve felt strange but were left in that hazy place where things were simple.

“This is how things are going to be,” You heard him say, “We’ll make it work, okay? You get to be yourself and I’m the one who takes care of you now. I’m your Daddy.”

You’d never said that word out loud. Daddy. It was a faraway concept, a dream …just like the cloud you were floating in right now. You hugged yourself, mind wandering to that soft bed with all of your plushies.

“Say it, princess,” you turned your head to him, mouth parted, eyes curious.

“Say what?” You asked in a whisper, an innocent haze in your eyes.

He smiled. You had done something right. You gave him a soft smile too. He leaned closer, “Say ‘Daddy’,” He commanded softly, “Please, princess.”

Part of you hesitated, knowing you were giving away something precious. The other part wanted to please him, after all, he’d brought you this sense of peace. And maybe the sooner you made him happy, the sooner he’d tuck you into your warm bed, and let this long day finally end.

“Daddy,” You tested out the word on your tongue and though it sounded fragile, his eyes seemed to light up, “...since you said please.”

Nothing could smoulder that spark of satisfaction in his eyes. The look made your heart flutter, a sharp contrast from before when it felt like exploding.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Your cheeks warmed and you turned your face to hide from him. You couldn’t take it when he looked at you like that. That look made it feel like everything was okay.

“I made a mistake,” Your voice came out in a whine. Rafe ran the warm cloth across your back, a reminder of that peaceful bubble he’d created around you.

He shushed you, “You didn’t,” He assured you, “You’re a good person, a good girl. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”

His words made you sink deeper. The soft strokes of the warm washcloth, the vanilla-scent against your skin, and the pressure against your most sensitive areas. You felt the tension in your body melt away further.

Slowly, gripping your knees to your chest, you turned your face back towards him, “You can’t tell anybody, Rafe,” You whispered.

“Never,” He said, leaning closer, “Pinky swear?”

Rafe reached his other hand toward you, his pinky finger extended in front of you, moving like he was carefully dismantling some fragile, like a bomb. You stared for a brief movement, surprised and warmed by the gesture. You had no idea Rafe was capable of being so gentle. You unwrapped yourself a little bit, bring your closest pinky towards his hand. Your smaller finger wrapped around his and you were tethered together.

“There, I promise I won’t tell anyone, princess,” He looked at you deeply, “Okay?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, your hand falling gently back into the water, “Let’s get you out of here before you wrinkle up,” He decided and you watched him cross the room to grab your towel hanging from the back of the bathroom door. He walked back with a quiet confidence and his grip was completely sure, deliberate, as he helped you from the tub, “I’ve got ya’.”

He’d wrapped one arm underneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, lifting you gently. You imagined pressing yourself into him but a towel soon separated you. You shivered, and instinctually, you wanted to dry yourself but Rafe took responsibility of that as well. He was so close, so protective. It was awkward at first, being able to take care of that mundane task but not having to. You leaned into it, letting your body be soothed by the ritual.

You kept sinking.

“Arms up,” He’d said after bringing you back to your bedroom. He chose an oversized purple t-shirt, designed with small pictures of cartoon pandas. For your underwear, he chose a light blue pair decorated with rainbows. Your eyelids grew heavy and after your first yawn, Rafe lifted you onto the side of your bed, “There you go. All set.”

You crawled into your cocoon further, settling underneat your quilt. You watched Rafe as you settled there, as he moved across the room. Your sleepy eyes widened for a moment, realizing his shirt was gone and that he was fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

It was a threshold you’d never expected to reach, with Rafe or anyone else. The lights flicked off and the bed dipped beside you, your nerves sparked. You grabbed ahold of your lamb stuffed animal, letting that bring you a familiar comfort. Rafe nestled closer to you, his body at ease, relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you.

You did your best to do the same, trying to lean into that same vulnerability you felt when he was bathing you. Warm skin against yours, strong hands on your waist, warm breath against your ear, it was overwhelming, “I-Is this okay?” You asked, breaking the silence.

Looking for reassurance, you turned your head until your noses were almost pressed together.

“Yeah,” Rafe spoke low and smooth, “You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nervously, “I’m okay.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to your forehead and you took a deep breath, letting the feeling sooth your anxiety, “I’ve got you,” Rafe’s fingers ran down your arm then to your waist. He held you there, feeling your flesh there, squeezing, “Daddy’s got you, baby.”

He touched you in new ways, gripped you hard in some places and softer in others. The kiss on your forehead turned into a kiss on your nose and then he placed soft lips against your cheek, “Relax,” He whispered in your ear, “I know you’re sleepy. I’ll do all the work.”

In your state of mind, his words felt like a riddle. What did he mean? You knew you liked his touch and that you wanted to sleep. Rafe knew more than you, clearly, maybe that’s what makes him a good Daddy. You should trust him.

You closed your eyes as you let him press his face into your neck. He kissed you there, finding the most sensitive spot on your skin, and it made your lips part in a soft moan, “Call me Daddy,” He spoke against your skin, “Please, baby? Just say it and I’ll make you feel good.”

“Daddy,” You whispered back hesitantly and Rafe groaned, “D-Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Rafe cursed, grabbing a handful of your bottom, “That’s exactly what I want from you.”

You felt hardness pressing against your upper thigh and you gripped your lamb tighter. You leaned into sleep, letting Rafe move your body as he pleased, only moving your lips to whisper, “Daddy” in Rafe’s ear. He seemed please and you felt a warmness in your center that you wanted more of.

Soon he was on top of you, your legs spread as he sat in between them. He rubbed you there. His rhythm was perfect, his accuracy impeccable, so much that you didn’t have to even move your hips to get the friction you needed. You panted and when you reached your peak, Rafe swallowed your moans, putting his mouth on your lips.

It didn’t fully register to you when Rafe pushed your underwear aside and started to push inside of you. He was so gentle and you were so tired. He pulled your arms to the side, pressing his front against you, but you kept one hand wrapped around the arm of your stuffed animal, “Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy”

You winced when you felt all of him, and instinctively, you pushed at his heavy arms, “You’re okay,” He said, and his voice was louder to you than his heavy breathing or the sound of his skin hitting against yours, “You’re doing so good. Daddy’s almost done. You’re gonna make me cum so fast, Y/N. Shit.”

The satisfaction and pride in his words brought almost enough warmth to mask the pain of being stretched by him. You slowly grew used to the feeling but the feeling was so intense and you had so little energy to withstand it, to take all of him.

“Daddy,” You mumbled, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

His thrust slowed but his weight kept you pinned there. He grabbed ahold of your chin and you blinked up at him with sleepy eyes. His mouth was parted, his eyes holding a darkness that you thought had gone away, “Jesus, baby.”

As he shifted to his side, all you could muster was to turn away, pulling your lamb close to your chest and allowing your eyes to flutter shut. Rafe nestled against you once more, his hands gripping your hips until your bottom was pressed firmly against him. You felt the warmth of his lips against your hair, and then his sleepy voice whispered, “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Reblog and comment if you enjoyed, would love to know your thoughts!!

#dark fic #rafe cameron #little space #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader

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coldfanbou · 5 months ago

Text

Affection

Welcome to this piece for the week, which I used as an example of what you can expect for kinktober as we have some stepcest going on. I hope you all enjoy the love these two give you.

Length 2.4K

Chowon X M reader X Jeewon

You breathed a heavy sigh as you continued to snap pictures of your stepsisters, Chowon and Jeewon, as they performed their cheer routine. You held the camera in place, not even looking through the preview window to see what the camera was taking pictures of. Their uniforms shifted as their breasts bounced, and the wind blew at their skirts, lifting them. Your mind was elsewhere as you pressed the button, trying not to think about what you saw. They walked over to you once their practice was over and asked how the pictures turned out. You handed the camera over to them, letting them peek at the images while you stared at the field. They felt satisfied with the first few as they looked them over, “What about this one?” Jeewon said, full of excitement.

“My eyes are closed.”

“But look at your smile; you look so cute!”

“Alright, we can use that one.” Coming to an agreement, the pair continue looking through the pictures, sweat running down their body as they check each one—the pair glance at you before turning to each other and whispering. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you don’t care too much and continue to look out at the field, hoping that you get to go home soon.

“I didn’t know he was that much of a pervert,” Chowon said quietly as the two took a few steps back. “Just look at this picture.” Chowon moved on to the following picture; it was taken mid-jump when her skirt was up, and her panties were clearly visible. Jeewon pursed her lips as they continued looking through the photos. While many of them were safe, there were more than a few that were erotic.

Jeewon glanced at you and back at the camera, seeing a picture of herself bending over. The shot showed off her and Chowon’s cleavage. She mulled over a few thoughts before turning to Chowon. “At least he’s being honest in a way.” Jeewon looked at the pictures again; something about your interest in her body turned her on. It put thoughts in her head to be seen in that light.

“Jeewon!” Chowon shouted quietly while slapping her elder sister’s shoulder.

“What? I’m just saying.” The older of the two smiled and continued looking through the pictures; Chowon looked over her shoulder, lightly slapping Jeewon’s back when she paused at one of the more lewd shots. “C’mon, just look at it,” Jeewon giggles. The longer this went on, the more Chowon began to see Jeewon’s point of view. As they finish going through the pictures, Jeewon hands back the camera, saying she liked the photos you took. She leaned down and grabbed your hand, leading you to the car. Chowon walked behind you and Jeewon, noticing her sister's behavior.

You wiggle your hand free from Jeewon’s grip, and she holds onto you again. “What? Embarrassed to be holding hands with your step-sister?” She teases you.

“I just want to go home,” you reply as you reach the car. Jeewon pouts at your answer and lets go of your hand, letting you get in the car and drive home. When you get home, you rush to your room, letting your step-sisters talk amongst themselves. Jeewon’s mind was slowly filling with thoughts of you; since you had become family, she had always thought of you as cute. Now that she thought you were interested in her sexually, Jeewon began thinking of you in a similar light. Every incident she had taken as innocent at the time she thought of in a new light. She grew flustered, thinking you had left many signs that you needed her. Her cheeks burned as more thoughts flooded her head.

Chowon looked at her sister, knowing nothing good could be going on in her mind. Still, she let it go for the moment, trusting it would pass. As the sisters went their separate ways, Jeewon took her chance to bathe first. She slipped into the tumble, allowing the water to wash over her until it settled into a pleasant calm. Jeewon’s thoughts continued to slip toward you, remembering when you accidentally walked into the bathroom as she stepped out of the shower. Jeewon could feel her body heating up as she thought about it. She cupped one of her breasts, squeezing it while her other hand moved down her stomach toward her slit. She pushed her fingers inside, moaning your name as she imagined your lips on her body, begging for her. There was a part of Jeewon that knew it was wrong to think of you like that, but she couldn’t resist the temptation. In her mind, Jeewon’s fingers were your cock, sliding in and out of her. The taboo of being family, even if unrelated by blood, turns her on.

Jeewon cooed as she pumped her fingers deeper inside, curling them and hitting her G-spot as she imagined you all over her. She pulled her nipple taut and came as she flicked her clit. As her body cooled down and her mind settled, Jeewon concluded she would make the first move since you weren’t willing to. She slowly climbed out of the tub, wrapping a towel around her body and drying herself off before heading to her bedroom. Jeewon would act on her thoughts soon enough.

The day continued as any other, with you none the wiser about Jeewon’s plans. A few weeks had passed since that day, and her imagination had grown stronger; Jeewon dreamt of you and needed you more than ever. She made her way to your room, tiptoeing around the house before slowly opening your door and shutting it behind her. Her heart beat quickly as she looked at you; Jeewon could feel herself growing wet. She walked up to you, pulling back your blanket before straddling. You began to wake up; your eyes took some time to adjust to the dark. All you could hear was Jeewon’s voice. “Don’t worry, your big sis is here for you.” She said softly before pressing her lips against yours; her tongue invades your mouth, stopping you from responding. She moves your hands to her large mounds, letting you squeeze them through her shirt as she grinds against your crotch. Jeewon reaches down, pulling your cock out of your pants and stroking it. You groan into her fervent kiss. “I’ll take care of you; you don’t have to hide your feelings anymore. I know this is wrong, but I want you too.” Your will to struggle against Jeewon slowly disappears as her palm rubs against the head of your cock. You squeeze her breasts, earning you small moans as she lifts her shirt, allowing your hands to sneak under.

Your thumb runs over her hard nipple, flicking it as you squeeze the soft mound. This forced Jeewon to break the kiss; her heavy breathing filled the room as she lifted off her shirt, letting her breasts go free. She leaned down, kissing you again. Her breasts swayed, moving across your chest as her hand continued to stroke your cock. Precum began to leak out, coating her hand. “Ah, your big sis will make sure you have nothing left.” For nights Jeewon imagined you pumping her full of your cum, breeding her, impregnating her with your child. “I’ll make sure you get every part of my body.” She mumbled, moving herself down your body. She lifted your lower body and placed your cock between her tits. You watched as your step-sister squeezed her breasts together; she moved them up and down your shaft slowly. As precum dripped from your cock, it coated her breasts, and in time she began moving faster.

You moaned Jeewon’s name, struggling with the pleasure she was giving you. “It’s okay if you cum on my tits. I know you have a lot more cum where that came from.” She said, speeding up her movements. You struggled, watching as her tits jiggled while she stroked your shaft. Unable to hold on any longer, you came, coating her neck and tits in your cum. The smell flooded Jeewon’s nostrils; as she came to a stop, she looked at her painted chest and scooped a fingerful of cum before eating it. “You taste so good.” She whispered before massaging her breasts. “Let’s keep going.”

You nod along, watching as she throws away her shorts and panties, leaving her naked. Jeewon pulled away your pajamas and straddled you once more, rubbing your cock against her folds. “You’re so big,” she moans, feeling the tip push against her entrance. “We’re finally going to be together,” Jeewon says with a smile before dropping herself on your cock. You feel her tight walls hold onto your cock as she impales herself on you. “Mm, fuck, you’re hitting my womb.” Jeewon places her hands on your chest, staring into your eyes as she adjusts. In a few minutes, she begins moving, rising and falling on your cock. You watch as her tits bounce as she drops onto your cock. Noticing your stares, Jeewon pulls your head to her chest, “Go on, suck on them. I don’t want there to be anything between us.” You suck on her tits, your tongue swirling around her nipple as she bounces on your cock. You both feel a strong connection; you wrap your hands around Jeewon’s waist, guiding her.

Every bounce brings you both closer to cumming. Jeewon holds you tightly, biting her bottom lip as she feels your cock begin to throb. “I’m cumming, Jeewon,” you grunt.

“Cum inside me. I want you to cum in my pussy.” Jeewon cries out, planting herself firmly on your cock as she cums. Her walls tighten around your cock and force your orgasm; her cunt is flooded by your cum. You fill her completely. Jeewon feels the warmth of your cum spread across her body; she lets go of your head and rubs her belly. Smiling, she says, “There’s so much.”

As you stare at Jeewon, the door to your room opens; on the other side is Chowon, watching as you pump her sister full of cum. Jeewon smiles at her younger sister and waves her over. “I’m glad you wanted some too. There’s more than enough to go around.” Jeewon gets off you slowly and stands in front of the bed. Your cum runs down her legs as she walks over to Chowon and hugs her. “It’s the best Chowon. You won’t regret a thing.” Chowon was more stunned than anything, having watched her sister get creampied by her step-brother. Jeewon brings her over to you. Chowon’s eyes are glued to your cock; it’s covered in Jeewon’s nectar and your cum. She should be disgusted by it, but something attracts her to it. She doesn’t realize she’s inching closer to it until Jeewon tells her. “Pretty big, isn’t it? Have a taste, Chowon. There’s nothing like it.” Chowon opened her mouth, her tongue reached out, and she dragged her tongue along your shaft. She shut her eyes; it felt right to her. Chown wrapped her lips around the tip, swirling her tongue around the head of your cock as she began bobbing her head. Jeewon clapped quietly. “I bet it’s better than your boyfriend’s, huh?”

Chowon pulled back slowly, letting you out of her mouth with a pop. “Much better,” she said with a smile before leaning back down and sucking your cock. You felt Chowon’s tongue along the underside of your shaft as she stuffed herself. Glancing at Jeewon, you saw her fingering herself to the sight of her younger sister sucking you off. You place your hand on Chowon's head, pushing her to the base of your cock, her nose rubbing against your pelvis. Still sensitive from your earlier climax, your cock began to throb in Chowon’s mouth. She knew what was to come and started pulling back. Chowon tightly wrapped her lips around your cock, bobbing her head quickly until you came in her mouth. Chowon drank your cum as it came, filling her stomach with the salty liquid. Jeewon smiled and moved behind her sister, stripping her of her pajamas.

“I think it’s time for you to ride it,” Jeewon whispered, helping Chowon straddle you. You looked up and down Chowon’s body, taking it all in. “Go ahead, touch her,” Jeewon whispered into your ear. “We were made for each other.” With Jeewon’s encouragement, you reached up and groped Chowon’s tits, dragging out a moan from her between her lips. Your touch sent a shock through her system. Jeewon helped work over Chowon, getting behind the younger woman and groping her other breast while rubbing her clit.

“Jeewon!” She moaned, struggling with the influx of pleasure.

“How does our step-brother feel?”

Chowon pauses, “Big.”

“And you haven’t even put it in yet. He’ll put that boyfriend of yours to shame.” Jeewon moved Chowon up and grabbed your cock, stroking it as she aligned you both. She pushes the younger woman down. Chowon moans as she feels your cock move inside, stretching her cunt. “He feels so good, right?” Chowon nods quickly, her moans filling the room as you begin thrusting into her cunt. Jeewon continued to play with her sister’s body, pinching her nipples and kissing her neck as she rode you. Chowon's mind warped; she hadn’t intended this outcome, but the pleasure was too much. She became like Jeewon, imagining no future other than one with you. She bounced on your cock, moaning your name as you pushed her toward her climax. Every thrust moved deeper into her cunt until you were knocking on her womb. “I’m cumming!” Chowon whined, her walls clamping down around your cock as you cum inside her. You pump Chowon full of cum just like you did Jeewon. It felt better than any other thing you had ever done. Chowon collapses on top of you, her chest heaving as you press your lips against hers. She smiled and returned the kiss as she felt your last spurts of cum flow inside her. Jeewon snuggled beside you, kissing your cheek as you drifted off to sleep.

You managed to keep your secret from everyone as you began life with your step-sisters. You moved away with them, finding your own place and getting the privacy you needed to go at it at all hours of the day. You cut off contact with your parents and Chowon did the same to her boyfriend. You were all dedicated to each other now and kept the fact you were step-siblings hidden from everyone, appearing as nothing more than regular lovers.

As you sit back and relax, feeling their tongues move across, you look down to see their growing bellies. Jeewon and Chowon shine bright smiles at you, more than happy with this outcome as you paint their faces with your cum.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #lightsum smut #cignature smut #chowon smut #jeewon smut

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perlelune · 8 months ago

Text

Dollhouse | Rafe Cameron | i.

The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Pogue!Reader, Stepcest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Jealousy, Drugs, Drinking

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You peek from your hiding spot, beneath the lavishly decorated long table. Mom looks pretty. She’s wearing a fancy white dress that likely costs ten times the rent you used to pay. Perhaps more. The diamond earrings she dons, a wedding gift from your new dad, (Your new dad, your mind still cannot grapple with that reality-altering piece of information. You have a dad now, a stepfather), glimmer as they catch the glow of the fairy lights overhead.

She’s laughing. So loudly you can see all her teeth and her eyes are crinkly. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Mom laugh like that. No. You have never seen Mom laugh like that. Not ever. In the eleven years she’s raised you on her own. There have been sad times. Very sad times. Happy times too.

Still, she’s never looked as happy as she does today.

Like she’s on Cloud Ten. Not on Cloud Nine. Cloud Ten. Because there has to be a level above that fully captures how overjoyed Mom looks right now.

All because of this man. Your gaze swings to him. He’s wearing a suit, a white wedding suit, because Mom insisted they match and she always despised - despised not hated - bland wedding tuxedos. Bland anything really. So she picked his suit herself. Just like she did everything for the wedding. Her dream wedding. Something she’s constantly reminded you for the past month.

That this is her moment. Her big moment. One you shouldn’t ruin.

Which is why you’re hiding here. You can’t ruin anything from underneath a table. A silent observer. Quiet as a mouse.

That way Mom can have her moment while you bask in the shock that she’s a Cameron now. And so are you.

“Hey. Why are you hiding at your own mom’s wedding?”

You gasp, startled by the voice beside you. Your head turns. A blond-haired boy is crouched next to you, his neck crooked from having to fit his tall frame in the small space. His blue eyes are wide and curious as they rest on you.

“I-I’m not hiding,” you stammer, shocked that someone found your secret spot. Everyone’s focus is glued to the new Mr. And Mrs. Cameron. Even your new stepsisters are cheering from the circle around them. Sarah’s the loudest. Her thunderous clap and megawatt smile is a cheering squad all on its own.

This is their day.

So you figured your existence must have been forgotten by now. You tossed flower petals across the aisle, just like Mom asked. You smiled for the family pictures. You hugged him, that man, your new dad.

You awkwardly greeted your new siblings. Well, mostly waved from a safe distance.

You assumed your disappearance would go unnoticed amidst the bubble of joy keeping everyone trapped in its spell. But someone slipped away from it for a little while, it seems, broke the spell. Long enough to notice your absence.

He nods and says, “Really? Come out then, since you’re not hiding.” When you dig your pink ballet flats into the grassy dirt, refusing to move, the teenager chuckles.

He plops onto the floor.

“Or we can stay here.”

Your brows knit. We. It sounds strange. Alien to your ears. It’s always been you and Mom. The two of you against the world, jumping over every hurdle life stuck in your path together. There’s just so many kids now. And based on Mom’s recent announcement…there’ll be another one soon. The final knot binding your two families.

Thinking about it makes your mind spin. Overnight you went from being an only child to having three siblings. Well, four in some months.

Saying your world has been turned upside down is an understatement. Everything that used to be up is now down. And the house! Tannyhill is nothing like the tiny apartment you and Mom used to share. The one where the lights used to go out sometimes. It has all these big rooms. A gigantic yard. A pool.

JJ even made fun of you at school because he said you’re a Kook now.

A Kook. You wanted to punch him…and you did.

You will never be a Kook. It doesn’t matter if Mom makes you change schools, forcing you to attend the one on Figure 8, if she buys you new clothes, moves you to a new house.

You’ll always be a Pogue. A fact the kids at your new school make sure you never forget.

You tuck your knees against your chest.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do what I want,” he replies with a shrug.

He brings out a piece of cake from behind him.

“Do you want some?”

You make a face.

“Not hungry.”

He laughs and takes a spoonful of the three layered chocolate cake himself.

“What kind of kid refuses cake?”

“Why are you here?” you retaliate, growing more annoyed.

“Because you’re my new sister,” he states with a shrug. Your eyes round. “That’s what my dad says anyways.” He sighs. “Gotta look out for you and all that.”

“I don’t need it.”

“Well, little sisters are a pain in the ass. Didn’t ask for another one.” His brows furrow. “Didn’t ask for a new stepmom either but…here we are, princess.”

“Princess?”

“It’s what you look like, with your pink ribbons and all the bows,” he says, waving his hand in front of you.

You open your mouth then close it. Mom did go overboard with the pink and the bows. But she wanted you to look cute in the photos. She wanted all the girls to look cute. Adorable, as she said. So you and your stepsisters ended up with those big, embarrassing, fluffy pink dresses.

“Anyways. I’m your brother now. Deal with it, okay?” He scratches the back of his neck, placing the cake on the ground. “Pretty sure if I let anything bad happen to you my dad will kill me.”

You look ahead. Mom’s dancing with the girls now. She pauses momentarily, glancing around, but quickly returns to the dance. She, Wheezie and Sarah bounce in a circle, giggling as they tap their feet to the music.

Your eyes swell with tears.

This is how long it took Mom to replace you. A few seconds.

Rafe’s voice laces with irritation.

“Are you crying?” His harsh tone only drags more sobs out of you. You grip the hem of your fluffy dress to wipe the snot pouring from your nose.

The boy rolls his eyes.

“Girls are so annoying, always crying for no reason.” He plucks a tissue from the back pocket of his dress pants and dabs it against your eyes. He does it rather aggressively which startles you out of your meltdown. “Here, stop.” You blink at him. “I’m sorry, okay?” His blue eyes soften. “I promise, we’re not so bad.” He scrunches his nose. “Well, except for Sarah who’s a spoiled brat…but you get used to it too.”

You sniffle and duck your head. Almost as if reading your mind, he assures softly, “Your mom will always be your mom, so stop crying, okay?”

You raise your head, gaping at him.

“T-Thank you, Rafe,” you mumble between your abating sobs.

He shrugs. “Whatever.”

As he continues wiping your face, your tears slowly drying, you start pondering. Perhaps having a big brother won’t be so bad.

Cheers and applause explode around you as you blow the last of the sparkler candles. It took several tries before all the flames flickered out, plunging the room in total blackness. Your sisters giggle beside you and a contagious smile creeps onto your lips.

“Make a wish, make a wish!” your family chants around you.

You shush everyone which draws more laughs, especially from Mom and Dad. “Guys, quiet. I need to focus.”

You suck in a deep breath.

You close your eyes and make a silent wish. Your smile broadens. It’s easy. You wish for everyday moving forward to be as perfect as this one, as wonderful. A happiness untouched and crystallized like a butterfly in amber. Its paper-thin, delicate wings never shriveling. Its vibrant colors never dimming. Its beauty never waning, never yielding to the fickle whims of time. Every year onwards, you wish to be surrounded by the same love and support you’ve gotten to experience for the last eighteen years.

You wish to always be with family.

When your eyes open, you beam brightly. The fact that familiar faces stare back at you fills you with warmth and comfort. Sarah, your sister, offered to throw the flashiest, biggest party of the year for your birthday. She even made a vision board for it. It was quite impressive actually. She planned on making sure her little sister celebrated eighteen years on this earth with a bang. But you staunchly refused. Not only did you hope to avoid more organizing drama between Sarah and Kie, you wanted something discreet and casual this year. You had no desire to be surrounded by vague acquaintances from the Island Club or the snobbish classmates who only stopped calling you names once they realized Mom was more than Dad’s mid-life crisis.

Despite the twenty-year age gap between them, you’ve never witnessed two people more in sync than your mom and dad. You know every woman on that side of the island has wished for their marriage to fail. You wouldn’t flinch if you learnt there was a voodoo doll of your mom in one of those women’s closets. People figured they wouldn’t last. After all, they are so different. Mom used to be a cocktail waitress at the country club Dad is still a faithful member of to this day. His wife Rose had recently died and they bonded over fishing and sports. In many Kooks’ eyes, Mom will always be beneath them. You can see it in their eyes. Their pinched smiles. Their forced pleasantries. A veil of unbelonging will always cling to you and your mother. Deep down, despite living in this big beautiful house for seven years, you’ll always be Pogues. Not that you’ll ever tell Mom. She lives in a pink-colored bubble of her own making. One you wouldn’t dare pop lest she land in a cold puddle of harsh reality.

Still, you’re happy for your parents.

Even after all these years, they love each other deeply. They still find ways to surprise each other, to make the other feel special.

Alice and Ward Cameron are what true love looks like in your eyes. What it should look like. Unless you have what your parents have one day, you don’t see yourself tying the knot with anyone. Your dad set that standard by being the best man you’ve ever met.

Willa bounces in front of you, displaying her gummy grin. She recently turned seven and her front teeth have yet to come out. It never stops her from smiling all day however.

“What did you wish for?”

You don a cryptic expression.

“It’s a secret.”

Willa pouts, folding her arms dejectedly. Dad chuckles and picks her up. He rubs her back to comfort her, explaining, “She can’t tell you her wish, sweetheart. Otherwise it won’t come true.”

Your little sister gives a reluctant nod. Willa abhors the word ‘no’. Setting limits for her is a problem as she’s so accustomed to Dad surrendering to her every whim. Ward Cameron is what some would call a ‘girl dad’ through and through. It never takes much effort from you and your sisters to convince him and whoever would dare hurt any of you should probably count their days…as your dad would likely have already picked a date and funeral plot for them.

The time for the gifts comes. You sit in a chair at the head of the dinner table as everyone gathers around you to give you their gift.

Sarah got you a coupon for a tattoo. While Dad is livid, she winks at you. The two of you mentioned getting matching tattoos before you leave for college. You’re glad to learn that she hasn’t forgotten.

Wheezie hands you a Sephora gift card. She’s very solemn, adjusting her glasses while giving it to you, which tears a chuckle from you.

“You just always say you don’t want anything, then everyone gets you a super cool gift,” she laments. Mom squeezes her shoulder.

“It’s an amazing gift. I love it, Wheezie.”

Her face lights up at your response.

Willa’s gift draws the biggest smile from you. It’s a handcrafted wooden box covered in seashells, glitter and sand. It has a silver lock with a little key. It’s just so cute and you already picture yourself placing it above your bed or somewhere on your desk in your college dorm. It’ll be a much-welcome reminder of home.

Mom and Dad’s combined gift sits in a square velvet jewelry box. The breath hovers in your lungs, your fingers shaking with anticipation as you open the box.

Your jaw drops.

A gold necklace with a single diamond charm shaped like a teardrop lies on beige satin.

Your hand flies to your mouth. This must have cost a pretty penny.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whisper.

“Do you like it, sweetheart?” Dad asks.

“I love it.”

A bright grin unfurls on his face at your swift response. He moves forward, collecting the necklace from the box.

“Can I…”

“Of course,” you reply, shoving your hair aside so he can place the necklace on you.

When he’s done, he takes a moment to look at you, his hands clasping your shoulders. “It suits you. Your mom and I picked it out…” His voice falters, unspilled tears filling his blue eyes.

You wrap your arms around him. He hugs you tightly.

“Dad, it’s okay,” you say.

He unleashes a watery laugh. “It’s just…you girls are growing up so fast.” He steps back and hastily wipes the tears in his eyes. Dad loathes crying in front of you. Well, showing any sort of emotion really. You don’t remember seeing him shed a tear since the day you called him ‘dad’. It just slipped out of your mouth one time. It just felt natural after a while.

Ward is the only father you’ve ever known, your mother having divorced your biological father when you were just a few months old. You’ve never met this man, though you’ve heard he has another family on the mainland. You can’t deny you’ve been curious about him at times. But your mother’s lips are sealed when it comes to that man. She rarely talks about that time but you always gathered that his absence in your lives is somewhat of a blessing.

You hug Dad again.

“It’s okay. I promise to visit a lot. For every holiday. And you guys can come see me too.” You try to lighten the mood as you note the sour faces. “It’ll just be four years. Then I can come home and work on getting my real estate license while working with Dad at Cameron development.”

“That’s my girl. Eyes on the prize,” he praises.

“Always.”

He sweeps an icy glance over Rafe.

“If only a certain someone followed your example.”

Your brother flinches. He’s been a bit more withdrawn than everyone else during the party. Besides singing ‘Happy Birthday’, he hasn’t said a word to you. You surmise he’s not too eager to see you leave either. Out of all your siblings, you are the closest to Rafe.

While he was standoffish when you first met, he’s warmed up to you considerably over the years. He’s not just your brother. He’s also your confidant. You can count on one hand the things you don’t share with Rafe.

“Come on, dad. That’s not fair,” you say, trying your best to dissipate the tension in the air. “He’s just on his own path.”

Rafe bolts from his seat, stomping out of the room and heading to the balcony.

Your shoulders slump.

“Not everyone has to go to college to succeed. You know that. And so does Mom.”

“You’re right.” He heaves out a weary breath. “But I’m not mad that your brother dropped out of college. I’m mad he doesn’t care about anything he can’t shove up his nose or get high with.”

Concern scrunches your mother’s features.

“Honey,” she says.

“Alice, he’s twenty-two years old. It’s time for him to grow up.”

Bereft of arguments to defend Rafe, and with your dad being stubborn as ever, you elect to join him on the balcony. The cool night breeze seeps through your clothes. Goosebumps break out on your skin as you shiver by Rafe’s side.

You decide to crack his shell with a lighthearted joke.

“So I don’t get a gift from my big brother this year?”

A smile breaks out on Rafe’s face. He turns to you.

“But you always say you don’t want anything because you already have everything.”

You give him a harmless punch in the rib. He pretends to be deeply hurt by it and bursts out in laughter.

“I’m kidding,” he admits. “I'll give it to you later this week. It’s something you’ve wanted for a long time, promise. There was just a…temporary shortage.”

You acquiesce. You let a comfortable silence hang between you and him for a while before speaking again.

You take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry about Mom and Dad,” you blurt out.

Shrugging, he scoffs, “It’s fine. It’s not like Dad will stop riding my ass all the time. At least Alice doesn’t have her foot on my neck 24/7.”

You grip his arm.

“They’re just worried about you. About your future.” Rafe’s jaw clenches, his blue eyes set forward. “You know Dad loves you. He’s just not very good at showing it.” Hope laces your tone. “Maybe try to stop by the office more? I’m sure he’ll appreciate you showing interest in the family business.” You shift closer to him, whispering. “Even Sarah can’t be bothered, just so you know.” This makes his hard gaze fall on you. Talking about Sarah never fails to make Rafe’s blood pressure rise. Even after all that time, the two of them can’t seem to get along. “You’re always talking about being proactive and all that. Then be proactive, Rafe.”

He studies you for a while before a slow smirk unfans on his lips.

“You know…that is actually not a bad idea, princess.”

“Of course it’s a great idea. I had it,” you jest, drawing a hearty chuckle from him.

The buzzing of your phone shatters the moment. You startle. You hastily grab it from the pocket of your cardigan.

“Just give me a minute,” you utter apologetically. You step away for a bit. Rafe’s eyes on you are sharp as you check your phone. The message you receive has you fighting a smile. You feel giddy that he remembered your birthday. You don’t even remember telling him it was today. Suppressing the goofy grin threatening to take over the bottom of your face, you return to your spot next to Rafe.

“Who was that?” he asks.

You lie with ease. While you love Rafe, he can be so overprotective. To a suffocating degree at times. No guy will approach you because the mere knowledge that Rafe Cameron is your brother and will surely dole out a severe beating if any guy so much as stares at his sister too long makes most of them steer clear. Some of your suitors have tried, the brave, reckless ones, but Rafe would scare each of them away.

There’s been a boy lately. One who eluded your brother’s relentless scrutiny. Familiar, but also kind of new. Rafe would blow a fuse if he knew who it was. He can’t find out. Not yet anyways.

You slap on a mask of nonchalance.

“No one.”

He gives a nod, licking his lips. He seems to mull over something before narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Are you hiding something?”

Your stomach knots. You try to keep an even, casual tone. You fail.

“I-I’m not. Why would you say that, Rafe?”

“I don’t know. You were acting shifty just then.”

“I’m allowed to have some privacy, Rafe. I’m not a kid anymore.”

His jaw ticks. He takes a small step back, as if your words hit him square in the face.

“But we never had any secrets for each other, haven’t we?”

“Yeah.”

His blue eyes trap yours.

“So who was it, princess?”

You shudder. Keeping things from him is near impossible. He knows you like a book he’s read every single page from. Again and again.

This is how you know your subterfuge can't be a complete success. Still, you stick to your story.

“Like I said, Rafe. No one,” you maintain.

He bends over you, seizing your hand and tucking it against his chest. Your heart skips a beat.

“You know I’m just trying to protect my little sister, right? That’s all I’ve ever tried to do, protect you.”

“I know,” you say, a small smile tugging your lips.

He rubs his thumb across your palm, squeezing your fingers more tightly than before. You wince at the pressure. It’s on the thin edge of pain.

“So…you’d tell me if there was anything new in your life, anyone?”

Your pulse quickens. The lie aches as it rises from your throat this time. Needles of deceit. You aren’t used to lying to your brother.

“Of course, Rafe. You’d be the first to know,” you chime, forcing a false, wobbly smile on your face.

He stares at you for so long that it grows unnerving. After an eternity, his grip on your hand slackens. You rub your pulsing fingers, a frown wrinkling your brow.

He crosses his arms over the railing, eyes fixated on the night as he mumbles under his breath, “Good.”

You don’t know how to answer that, a wave of unease, cooler than the night chill, passing through you somehow.

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #dark rafe cameron #pogue!reader

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cherryinchainss · 5 months ago

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♡ don’t cry baby ♡

word count: 0.7k

pairing: stepbrother anakin x fem reader

WARNINGS: NSFW (18+), stepcest, dryhumping, reader is drunk, stepbrother anakin being soft as fuck, i think that’s it???

plot: stepbrother anakin got mad at his stepsister and feels bad so he tries to cheer her up

a/n: short lil thing to test the waters. this is the first smuttyish thing i’ve posted in three years??? i can’t tell if i like this or hate it. anyways, enjoy. maybe more will come.

anakin couldn’t stand to see his step sister upset. he’d just chewed her out for the last hour when he caught her sneaking back into her bedroom via window after staying out all night at a frat house party. he lectured her about the clothes she wore or should he say “the clothes she wore that barely covered her fucking body” and the boys she surrounded herself with cause he knew what they were thinking, he could practically hear what they probably thought when she waltzed into that house.

he didn’t mean to make you cry, he would never do that. he cared about you too much and hated seeing you upset. it broke his heart to see your pretty face covered in tears. he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist, planting kisses along your forehead, nose and cheeks trying to get you to cheer up.

“no baby- please don’t cry, you know what it does to me” anakin said softly as he tucked your hair behind your ear and wiped a tear away from your cheek. he studied your face to see if he could see even a glimmer of happiness in your glossy eyes.

he knew the alcohol you consumed was probably a huge contribution as to why you were so upset. you not so gracefully stumbled through your bedroom window smelling like a brewery. but fuck, if he didn’t raise his voice you probably would be peacefully sleeping by now.

“i didn’t mean to make you angry ani” you said in between sobs “please don’t be angry at me” you looked down at your hands anxiously.

“i’m not mad at you baby” he said sounding defeated as he cupped your face, making you look back up at him in his eyes. “you just stress me the fuck out sometimes” he chuckled lightly, wiping another tear away. his thumb went down to your pouty lips, tracing them lightly.

anakin’s hands went down to yor hips, guiding you to grind slowly against him. anakin knew this was something he could always count on to make his step sister feel better. it wasn’t morally wrong because they technically weren’t having sex. but, maybe that was just something he made up in his head to push away his guilt.

“come on baby, i wouldn’t be doing this if i was mad at you” he said softly. you nodded your head in agreement, beginning to rock your hips on your own.

anakin let out a low grunt as your head leaned back in pleasure, biting your bottom lip in the way that drove him crazy in the best way possible. anakin placed his hand on your lower back to support you from falling backwards, his other hand snaked up to under your skirt, cupping your ass and giving it a light squeeze.

“ani- it feels so good” you whined, feeling the familiar sensation growing in your stomach, like you were at the top of a rollercoaster, about to swiftly go down the steep drop. anakin eyes widened at the way your face contorted, the way he’s seen too many times to count. he quickly grabbed you by the back of the head, tangling his fingers in your hair as he crashed your lips together to muffle your moans as your climax took over every sensation in your body, your brain becoming completely empty, the only thoughts being the pleasure washing down on you and anakin. your nails dug into his arms as your hip movements became sloppier against his stiff cock under his sweatpants, the overwhelming feeling fucking up your rhythm. his muffled moans matched yours as your climax pushed him over the edge, making him shoot ropes of cum into his pants. your legs went limp causing you to slow down your movements until you came to a complete stop on top of him, shaky and out of breath you pulled away from his kiss, looking at him with a light, tired smile on your face.

“baby, you know i love the sound of you moaning but shit, imagine if your daddy heard you cumming all over my lap.” he said in a whisper, a smirk growing on his face.

“feeling better?”

#tw stepcest #cherry writes!#stepbrother anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars smut #star wars

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deliciousangelfestival · 7 months ago

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The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 3

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You scoffed, “Are you willing to wait until school is over? As you can see, I have to teach my precious students.”

Bucky smirked. This was the first time you had seen him smile. You had to admit he was handsome. Victoria must be proud, as Bucky was way out of her league.

But you didn't want to get close to him since he was already your step-sister's fiancé. Perhaps he had the same character as her.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts, “You don't have to worry since the principal has given you permission to leave after this class.”

Unbeknownst to you, before he entered your class, Andre had brought him to the principal's office. Bucky had bribed the principal with cigars.

For the first time, Andre saw his principal, who usually wore a flat expression from the stress of dealing with delinquent students, laugh heartily as he picked up the cigars. “Haha… of course. Miss Sinclair needs a day off.”

Clueless about Bucky's deal with the principal, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting the principal to give you a day off so easily.

Half a day without dealing with the delinquents wasn't a bad idea. As you rose from your seat, you issued a directive, "Fine. Let's go."

You pointed towards the hallway and added, "And stick close to me. It's like a jungle out there."

As Bucky followed behind you, he soon realized the context of your warning. The students erupted in cheers, though the intent behind their vocalizations remained ambiguous, potentially constituting either catcalls or attempts to provoke offense.

"You've got a rich sugar daddy, miss," one student jeered, while another offered unsolicited advice, "Dude, run while you still have the chance."

A misguided attempt at physical interaction occurred when one student attempted to bump into Bucky, prompting him to sidestep, causing the student to stumble and fall.

"Dude, what the heck?" the surrounding students exclaimed in confusion.

"Pardon me," Bucky politely interjected as he maneuvered away from the scene.

Observing the exchange, you addressed the student, Mark, with a pointed remark, "That's what you get."

In response, Mark displayed a gesture of defiance, raising his middle finger, to which you reciprocated in kind.

Witnessing the interaction between you and your students, Bucky noted your lack of fear, interpreting your demeanor as assertive and resilient.

“RINNNGG!”

Break time was over, and it was time for the students to return to their classrooms. However, none of them made a move.

You understood the reason; they knew you were leaving.

Standing near the school door, you raised your right arm and held up three fingers.

“If I count to three and you guys are still here, I'll make all of you fail my class,” you warned them, your tone firm and commanding.

“We'll make you viral, b*tch! This is unfair,” Mark protested.

“Try me. One…” You began the countdown, your voice echoing through the hallway, your expression steely.

Before you could even say “two,” the students scattered, rushing back to their classrooms in a panic.

Bucky watched in awe, though he didn't verbalize it. Instead, he gave you an impressed look, admiration evident in his eyes.

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Like I said before, devil spawn.”

Bucky chuckled and held the door open for you, a gesture of respect and acknowledgment of your authority.

💋💋💋💋💋

He brings you to a luxurious café, seemingly inspired by Moroccan design. The place features intricate tiles, arched doorways, and rich colors. Elegant furniture, soft lighting, and comfortable seating create a warm atmosphere.

It had been a long time since you visited a place like this, reminiscent of times before you were kicked out by your stepmother.

Opting for the cheapest drink on the menu, you ordered a cold brew, not wanting to owe him anything more than necessary.

Your drink arrived promptly, and you tasted it. The taste of the coffee made you forget about the shitty cafeteria coffee you just had. Compared to you, who ordered a simple drink, Bucky's was unique.

His coffee was prepared right before him, with the server announcing, “We have prepared your coffee cup, sir.”

Bucky nodded graciously. “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome, sir,” the server replied before departing. “Enjoy.”

Bucky savored his coffee with an air of elegance, his movements precise and refined. You couldn't help but notice that he had been wearing leather gloves this whole time.

Taking a sip of your drink, you asked, “So… What do you want to talk about?”

Bucky set down his drink and met your gaze with his calm, cold demeanor.

“It's about last night,” he began, his expression unreadable as he spoke.

You grumbled, “Oh my god. Are you going to sue me for sexual harassment? I'm sorry. It's a bad habit of mine, doing something without thinking. Please don't sue me. I don't have the money to hire a lawyer.”

Bucky struggled to follow your rapid speech. “No, calm down. I won't sue you. It's just…” He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

Or did Victoria cry to Bucky and ask him to teach you a lesson? You couldn't help but wonder what he was going to say next.

“I have this disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). The symptoms include being overly sensitive to sensory input, including touch,” he explained, his gaze shifting to observe your reaction.

“No judgment here. I've encountered various cases of trauma from my students,” felt relieved a bit you reassured him, trying to offer some comfort.

“Thank you for understanding,” Bucky replied gratefully. “When someone touches me without my consent, I will vomit or I will faint.”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Shit.” Guilt washed over you as you began to fully comprehend the impact of your actions.

Bucky confessed, “The weirdest thing is, when you touched me, kissed me, my body didn't have any reaction.”

You lifted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“I went to different psychologists, tried many medicines, doctors, meditations, but none of them worked. Except you. A stranger that I've never met,” Bucky elaborated.

“Are you sure?” you asked, still trying to process the revelation.

Bucky then removed his leather gloves and called the waitress over. “You. Come here.”

The waitress approached, curious about Bucky's request. “Yes, sir?”

Bucky extended his bare hand. “Shake my hand.”

The waitress, unsure of the situation, complied and shook Bucky's hand.

In an instant, Bucky grabbed a nearby bucket and began to vomit.

The waitress and you were both shocked. Bucky, who had been calm and composed moments ago, now appeared pale and sickly in just a matter of seconds.

Could what he said really be true?

Bucky wiped his mouth and apologized to the waitress, his tone sincere. “I'm sorry. Please don't be offended. It's not because of you. I hope the tips my secretary will give you could cheer you up.”

The waitress, still unsure of what just happened, responded hesitantly, “Ah, thank you?”

Bucky's secretary appeared seemingly out of nowhere and began conversing with the waitress, diverting her attention.

Left alone with Bucky, he raised his hand again, as if asking for your right hand. Confused, you offered your hand, which he gently took and held in his.

You thought it might have been a mistake, but Bucky showed no reaction. He closed his eyes, seemingly waiting for something to happen. There was no rapid heartbeat, no sweating, and no urge to vomit.

He opened his eyes and saw you looking thoughtful. “Thank you for your patience and trust.”

You replied, “Ehm, glad to help.”

“My predictions were correct. You could be the answer to my disorder. I will make you a generous offer,” Bucky stated. His voice tone sounded like happiness is in it.

"Really?" You could ask for money for your grandmother's surgery. After you were kicked out of the house, you lived with your grandmother from your mother's side. After your mother died, your father stopped sending money to your grandmother.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious.

You hesitated. "Wait. Does Victoria know about this?"

Bucky shook his head. “Besides my parents, only you know about this.”

“Both of you are going to get married, and you didn't want to share the truth?” you questioned. Poor Victoria, the man she will marry, has a cold heart.

You were supposed to be the bad guy, glad that she would receive her karma. But why did this remind you of something?

He went silent. The thought of marriage with Victoria irked Bucky. He pulled on his leather hand gloves again and rested his hand on the table. He looks like he's discussing a business deal worth billions.

“The truth is, I saw this marriage as a business deal. I don't have the desire to have a heart-to-heart conversation with your stepsister. And from what I've seen of her, it's better if I don't talk to her about my disorder,” Bucky explained.

His tone was cold, sending a shiver down your spine. No wonder the Barnes family had been successful conglomerates for so long—they knew how to get what they wanted.

But there was something you didn't agree with. “I want to help you,” you stated.

Bucky visibly lightened up at your words.

You crossed your arms tightly, a frown creasing your brow. “But after what you said to hide it from your fiance, you reminded me of my father. A man of few words. A hero in business, but a failure in family.”

Your father, Jonathan, lived and breathed for money. He left everything about the household to your mom, while the families’ businesses thrived. But after your mother died, her family's business went bankrupt, and he didn't offer much help.

You didn't want to assist another man who reminded you of your dad.

Placing a dollar bill on the table to pay for your drink, you stood up abruptly. “I hope you find a cure, but I won't be the one to help you. Thank you and goodbye.” You grabbed your coat and started walking away.

Bucky hadn't expected you to reject him. And what's more outrageous is you're comparing him with your father. Bullshit.

He scoffed, his fingers tapping the table in frustration. No one had ever said no to him before.

He turned around and saw your back. “What if I raise my offer? Your childhood home and Velari into your hands?”

Your foot stopped before you reached the door. How did he know your deepest desire? The home you got kicked out of was the treasure from your mom. That beautiful home was designed by her; she was a designer.

And Velari, the fashion brand built by your mother, was now occupied by Celestial Enterprises, owned by Genevieve. It was your birthright to inherit your mother's work, but that other woman and her devil spawn were able to kick you out.

Lost in your daydream, you didn't realize Bucky was standing before you. “Do you like that deal?”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a hint of mischief in your eyes. A sly smile played on your lips as you reached out and gently took his hand in yours.

Bucky felt a sudden surge of heat as your fingers intertwined with his.

You lifted his leather-clad right hand and brought it closer to your lips. Gently, you pressed a kiss against it. "With an offer like that, I might just be tempted to give you more than just my hand."

The gesture made Bucky shiver, though he didn't feel any disgust. This feeling was completely different from what he experienced last night.

From this moment, he knew you're a natural seducer, and he was playing with fire.

Author Note: I had goosebumps writing the last part. I hope you like this chapter. 💓💋

Taglist:

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

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jokeringcutio · 1 year ago

Text

Stepdad!William Afton x Reader - Christmas Present (WARNINGS:SMUT)

Warnings: Creampie, taboo, stepdad x reader, secret s*x, Daddy kink, Christmas Dinner, Secret touching, Fingering, Behind your mom's back, Praise kink, dd/lg, Dark William Afton/William Afton is not a nice man, Mutual agreeance & consensual intercourse.

AN: I don't know what I did, but this just came out. Not beta read but I am going to sleep now and I wanted to share this with you all. For quick links and more, see notes below.

The soft glow of Christmas lights bathed the room in a warm, inviting atmosphere. You sat at the table with your mom, stepdad William, stepsister Vanessa, and her new boyfriend Mike. The scent of roasted turkey and homemade stuffing filled the air, while laughter and cheerful conversation echoed around you.

Vanessa and Mike animatedly chatted about their budding relationship, beaming as they recounted their favorite dates and shared aspirations. Their love was palpable, and they seemed eager to impress your mom and William with their connection. It seemed to work, your mom seemed smitten with Mike and William hadn’t said a nasty thing to him all evening – which you considered a win.

"Hey," Vanessa said, turning her attention to you, "when are you going to get a boyfriend?" Your heart clenched, and words failed to form in your throat. She didn't know what had been going on behind closed doors.

"Yes, good question," William chimed in. “Your mom has been dying to get a grandkid or two,” he said, feigning concern.

You nearly spat your drink out and tried to look away. Especially as beneath the tablecloth, you felt his hand snake onto your upper leg, fingers brushing against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine, the ghost of his touch haunting you.

“Dad!” Vanessa cried out.

“Well, it’s true,” William said matter-of-factly, and you could tell from the corner of your eyes that your mother blushed. “I just want to see all my girls happy and settled. So, when will you bring home a nice boy for me to meet?” His voice dripped with insincerity. Bringing home a date was the last thing he was waiting for. He didn’t want to see you date, or risk losing you to anyone else.

The fingers on your legs dug possessively into your skin, a silent warning that you were already claimed.

His.

"Uh, I'm not sure," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact. "I've just been busy with work, you know?"

"Sure, but there's always time for love," Mike added, oblivious to the undercurrents at play. He didn’t know what was going on – none of them did. He couldn’t see how your stepdad’s fingers traced up your Christmas over-the-knee stockings until they met bare skin.

"Maybe one day," you murmured, forcing a smile. As the conversation moved on, William's hand remained on your leg, a sinister reminder of the secrets you shared.

It became hard to focus on dinner like that. With his palm hotly upon your flesh. Memories of your stepdad’s mouth on your skin, his possessive grip on your hips, and his whispered promises to keep your liaisons secret washed over you.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the colorful decorations and warm atmosphere as everyone continued eating, trying to ignore the sick knot forming in your stomach.

God, how could you want a man like him so badly? When you knew it was so wrong?

"Delicious turkey, Mom," you said, attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy. Your mother beamed with pride, but all the while, you felt William's hand inching further up your leg, like a spider crawling toward its prey.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she replied, oblivious to the tension that was slowly strangling the air around you.

"Great job with the table setting too," Vanessa chimed in, squeezing Mike's hand as they exchanged loving glances.

Yes, great. Excellent, you sardonically thought as your stepdad’s fingertip brushed past the crotch of your panties. A wet spot formed where his fingers brushed past your nub, the now damp material seemingly spurring him on, for his fingers became more insistent. Even going as far as to hook underneath the elastics of your panties at one point to dip a fingertip between your soaked folds. You flinched, knee banging against the underside of the table, and whispered a flustered apology while William dipped his finger a little deeper inside your cunt – as far as he could go from where he was seated really.

You met his heated blue gaze as you looked to your side, saw the way he watched you intently from behind his aviator glasses. He pumped inside of you a few times, just to the second knuckle, and then his finger slid out again.

The now wet digit remained on your naked thigh for the remainder of the meal, only leaving when William had to pass food around. You watched with fascination as the criminal digit stroked past one of the bowls, how his fingertip glistened with your juices and accidentally tapped against some of the lettuce inside.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you picked at your food, each bite feeling heavier than the last. Your core was like a fuzzy ball full of wires that all got tangled. Expecting your stepdad to touch you - and hating the fact that you wished he would.

When dinner finally ended, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from work. You escaped to your room, away from your stepsister and her happy relationship, away from your mother and her bright smiles. And most importantly, away from him.

You slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin as if they could protect you from the reality lurking just beyond your bedroom door. Sleep was elusive, your thoughts racing and your heart pounding in your chest.

The creak of the door opening sliced through the darkness like a knife, and your breath caught in your throat as you heard your stepdad’s familiar footsteps approaching. He stood beside your bed, his presence looming over you like a shadowy figure.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I came to deliver your present."

He wouldn’t even flick on the light, but you could see him illuminated by the glow of the streetlamps through the window. He was already naked, a bow wrapped around the base of his already erect cock. He held it in his right hand, stroking himself and brushing his thumb past the head, the slit already weeping pre-cum that glistened like white pearls in the dark. "I've been waiting for you all through dinner." He stepped closer until you felt the bed dip with his weight, resting a knee next to you on the mattress. You could feel his breath on your skin, hot and tantalizing.

"Are you ready for your present?" he asked, the gravelly tone of his voice making your stomach flutter.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak, but your body betrayed you, nodding in submission. The tension in the room was palpable, both of you knowing what was about to happen. You wore a nightgown with nothing underneath. As always. Easy access for Dad. Like Daddy’s good girl.

His hands found yours, gently guiding them to the ribbon around his shaft. Your fingers trembled, but followed his lead, slipping beneath the fabric to pull it off. Your fingertips gently stroked past his fevered skin, feeling the ridges and the veins and how his member throbbed at the slightest touch.

"Beautiful," he murmured, eyes raking over your flushed form before he pushed you down on the bed again.

He wasted no time, reaching out to touch you, fingers tracing delicate patterns across your sensitive flesh. You gasped, hips arching involuntarily as pleasure bloomed within you. The suddenness of it all was overwhelming, your mind racing with thoughts of guilt and desire. Your nipples peeked underneath your nightgown, his blue eyes drawn toward them. He lifted your gown to reveal your stomach and breasts, wasting no time in tasting your skin with his lips and his tongue.

You writhed underneath him in pleasure while his erection bobbed against your hip. The wish to just put it in there grew stronger and stronger with each flick of the tongue and each nibble of teeth.

Soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips as he kept your arms pinned down, hovering over you like a predator eating its prey. His lips moved lower, just when it became too much, and then his tongue flicked past your stomach to your core.

A yelp escaped you, and wetness gushed forth between your folds, making your core glisten in the light of the lamps from outdoors.

"Quiet,” he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to your inner thigh. "Your mother might be waiting for me in our room right now. You don’t want her to find us like this, do you?"

It took effort to shake your head and mutter a faint no, because he was driving you wild. Your core pulsed with slick, too empty and aching to be filled. You were drowning in sensation, sinking deeper into the abyss of forbidden lust.

"Please," you whimpered, no longer able to distinguish between want and need.

"Shh, you want to be Daddy’s sweet girl, right?" He cooed, pressing his lips to your trembling ones. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

And so he did. His hands roamed, his mouth tasted, and your body responded with an urgency you had never known. The world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the symphony of your ragged breaths and whispered moans.

"William," you gasped, as he finally positioned his hard cock at your entrance. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into his sweaty skin. “Daddy, please,” you begged him. “I wanna be your good girl. Fill me up, please, Daddy. I wanna be good for you.”

And with a grin that made his teeth glisten in the dark, he entered you, filling you completely. His thick cock spread your pulsing walls wide, pussy fluttering helplessly around his size as he bottomed out. His balls slapped against your skin as he moved out and then in again, nudging his cockhead deep inside your core and making you see stars.

It was such a delight. How you had missed feeling him inside of you like this. To be filled so completely by this man that your mother called her lover.

If only she knew.

William filled you completely, satisfying a primal need you wished you had never known as it became an addiction. It was a sensation that both terrified and exhilarated you.

"Say my name again," he demanded, eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear it."

"Daddy," you repeated, more firmly this time, feeling a surge of power as he shuddered above you.

The love you made was sweet and tender, yet laced with a darkness that could not be denied. Whispers of ‘my sweet girl’ and ‘Daddy’s good girl’ were accompanied by a pull of your hair or a thrust so rough it made your teeth chatter. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. And when you finally tumbled over, it was as if the world had shattered around you, leaving only fragments of pleasure and pain. Your walls fluttered around his cock, forcing him over the brink with you. A loud groan filled your ear and revibrated through your entire body.

As you lay there, panting and spent, your stepdad slowly moved up on his elbows and reached for something on your nightstand. The light blinked on and you had to close your eyes because of the brightness, bringing an arm up to your head.

His warm body withdrew from yours with a slick squelch. And then you felt his strong large hands as he pushed your legs open wide. You slowly recognized he reached for his phone, capturing the aftermath of your union. The sight of white globs of sperm leaking from between your legs seemed to bring him immense satisfaction, and he held the camera up close to capture it. The way your pussy pulsed in the aftermath, the way his seed was slowly pushed out and then sucked back in again by your body - a wicked smile graced his features as he recorded it all.

Then, once he was satisfied, he put the phone aside.

"Best Christmas present ever," he declared, his voice heavy with pride and possession.

You smiled up at him, cheeks flustered and eyes tired. You slowly pulled your nightgown back down, covering the fresh hickeys, love bites and bruises your stepdad just gave you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said, heart swelling with satisfaction when William’s blue eyes twinkled at your words.

“Good girl,” he said again.

You watched as he slowly raised himself from the bed and bent forward to seek for the Christmas ribbon. Once he found it, he pumped his cock in his fist a few times until it started to become erect again.

“Help me with this, will you?” he asked, holding out the ribbon for you to take. You sat up on the bed on your knees to help him, feeling how even more of his sperm seemed to leave your soaking-wet core. You bit your lip as you tied the ribbon around the base of his cock once more, creating a lovely bow, then carefully glanced up at him.

William caught your look and groaned. “Oh, honey, don’t look at me with puppy eyes like that. Makes me just want to ravish you again.”

He bent over to capture your lips in his own, cock still in his hand, pumping himself a few more times. When he broke the kiss and leaned back you could see how his cock was now back on the way to be fully erect again, and you bit your lip in desire.

“Much as I want to fill you up a second time, I got to tend to your mom first. Promised her a Christmas present as well.”

He must have seen the way your face fell – no one wanted to be reminded of their lover having sex with someone else, especially when they were family. But you had known something like this would happen. He was your mom’s husband after all. Not yours.

A gentle brush of his thumb past your lip and your gaze softened.

“What will you tell her about the wetness?” you asked, shyly gesturing at his cock which was still coated in your mixed juices.

William’s smile turned into a devious smirk. “I’ll just tell her I lubed up,” and then his hand ruffled through your hair. “Don’t worry, baby. Your still Daddy’s favorite girl.”

He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. The gesture should have been comforting, but it only served to remind you of the twisted reality you now found yourself in. You watched as your stepdad left the room and then cuddled underneath the blankets again. A smile slid on your lips and you closed your eyes.

Your stepdad knew how to give the best presents for Christmas ever. ~ AN: Merry Whatever you Celebrate.🥳 If you like this kind of filth, I have a lot more of Stepdad!Afton x Reader and more coming up. I also write for other interesting bad men such as slasher characters. If you are feeling generous - as it is the season of giving - you can always leave me a little thank you on my Ko-Fi (: I'll post some quick links below to other works. My prompt box is still open, but I will be heading into the hospital at the end of December and depending on my treatment, I might have to close it in the near future. But I'll keep you up to date :) Quick links: ~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

#william afton #william afton x reader #stepdad x stepdaughter #stepdad au #merry christmas filth #william afton x you #william afton x female reader #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #matthew lillard x reader #fnaf smut #older man x younger woman #This is smut

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beheadedcousins · 5 months ago

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"I'm sorry. I want to be a good sister."

"You are not my sister."

#we are the tigers #watt #farrah watt #annleigh o'daniel #watt musical #cheer stepsisters #annleigh crawling towards farrah is my roman empire for this musical

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beheadedcousins · 5 months ago

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i love all of these!! my fave step sisters

can i ask for random headcanons for farrah and annleigh

YES

Farrah:

Before alcohol, writing was her escape. Like I said in the last post, she wanted to be a songwriter, and she would have been great at it.

RIP Farrah O’Daniel you would have loved Midnights by Taylor Swift

One of the reasons she has her hair in braids all the time is because that way it’s a lot easier to keep her hair out of the way while she’s throwing up at a party

She strikes me as the type of person to listen to the most sexually explicit songs despite being aroace because the irony is fucking funny

She has a rocky relationship with each of her parents

Doesn’t even like the taste of alcohol that much, but she likes that it makes her forget about her problems

Had she not died that night, she and Reese would have been the best of friends

She absolutely despised getting haircuts when she was younger, she always liked her hair long. Safe to say it wasn’t a surprise when she came out as trans when she was twelve.

Annleigh:

Bisexual and a demigirl (she/they), but doesn’t realize that until post-canon

On that note, a LOT of internalized homophobia/religious guilt regarding that

She was really close with her dad, and hit rock bottom after he died. She quit dressage because of it, and never really regained interest once she started healing.

She likes baking and is really good at it.

They’re always humming something under their breath

Has like 3 different Bibles because she likes to keep annotating them

Eva helps her with science homework, and she helps them with history homework

As it turned out, she didn’t actually have any romantic interest in Dane- she was just craving the connection and relatability that he provided since they were both grieving. They realized this once they started bonding over Farrah with Kate.

Both:

They both always dreamed of having a sister.

After Annleigh starts processing their guilt in a healthy way, she realizes that Farrah was trying to be a good sister and feels awful about it

Farrah would be really proud if she saw the person that Annleigh grew into after her death

Farrah always wonders whether her relationship with Annleigh would be different if they were born sisters

Remember the line “I have a cat, it doesn’t mean I like petting it”? That was Farrah’s cat, who got super attached to Annleigh for some reason. To this day, the O’Daniel family can’t figure out what happened there.

#we are the tigers #watt #farrah watt #annleigh o'daniel #farrah o’daniel #cheer stepsisters

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

Text

Pride | Promise | Price

[ modern! • Aemond x stepsister! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, angst, smut, kind of incest but not really, brat taming, violence, swearing ]

[ description: After their joint decision to be together, Aemond and his stepsister try to arrange everything to create as normal relationship as possible. The problem arises when Criston begins to suspect that his sweet little daughter has a boyfriend. The power of angst, ironic, protective, bitchy Aemond. Anon request. ]

Series & Characters Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had no idea what had crossed his mind to ask her if she would become his girlfriend − it seemed to him to be the most embarrassing and desperate question one could ask the opposite sex, but yet in that moment, as she lay in his embrace, his nose pressed against her hair, their hands and legs entwined together, he thought that he didn't give a shit.

That he really wanted her to be his.

His little girl.

Her answer and her complete lack of hesitation surprised him as much as the question he asked her; he couldn't get out of his awe at how lightly she approached it, that even if she was afraid of the consequences she enjoyed being in a relationship with him, and what's more, just like him she wasn't going to stop.

He was unable to understand why certain things came naturally to them − he figured that the fact that she wasn't forcing anything on him, that she wasn't putting perpetual expectations on him made him finally open up to what he himself wanted, and by some miracle their needs began to coincide.

Above all, neither of them talked about their choice, simply recognising that they had already decided and there was no reason to explain anything further.

He watched with satisfaction as he drove her to her classes how she greeted her friends knowing that none of them would touch her again because she was fucking his.

His little sister.

At that thought a dangerous grimace appeared on his lips that terrified him as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror; he drove off with a squeal of tyres, certain that she had turned over her shoulder to look at him.

What surprised him most was that he was focused on his lectures like never before − neither of them disturbed each other during their classes with messages with only a few exceptions when they were figuring out what they were going to do in the evening.

Her gentle, cheerful, warm character suited him.

She didn't run after him seeking his attention all the time.

She accepted when he needed to study in silence or just sleep off a day full of activities.

When they passed each other in the corridor, came across in the kitchen or the living room and there was no one around but them, he would draw her to him, hugging her waist and clinging to her lips, uniting with her in a warm, moist kiss − she would then throw her arms around his neck while the tips of their tongues teased and licked each other with a quiet click.

Usually that was enough to make him completely hard, and it was usually just then that they heard someone's footsteps, so they pulled away from each other, looking at one another with this type of gaze he had never shared with anyone before, filled with desire, heat and longing.

They fucked whenever they could, in his car, in his living room, in his kitchen, once in his bed and once in hers, waiting patiently for his mother and Criston to fall asleep; they would visit and throw themselves into each other's arms, exhausted from waiting all day to touch each other, experiencing hot, sticky, intense pleasure together.

Afterwards, they stroked their naked, sweaty bodies, kissed each other and involuntarily fell asleep, forced to part before dawn, before anyone realised either of them was not in their room.

On the one hand it was exhausting and drove him mad, on the other it made him want her more and more every day.

It made him miss her, even though she was in the next room.

They wrote to each other when they were at home almost all the time even when they were sitting at the dinner table together; they commented on what was going on, told each other stories, sent each other memes or decided what they were going to do in the evening.

Sometimes they would play games together or watch movies on his laptop and lock the door from his room so no one would accidentally see them lying down and embracing.

However, in his eyes, the turning point for him was the day he told her about Alys.

The subject was completely different at first − his stepsister was telling him about how she dealt with Criston's arguments with her mother, that she would leave the house for hours and have nothing to do with herself, hanging around the nearby park and reading books, not wanting to return home to a house filled with their perpetual resentments feeling that there was nowhere for her to go.

He never confided in anyone about what he had done.

"At first it was supposed to be a one-night stand. Just to do something against the will of my mother, with whom as a child I went to mass every Sunday and prayed nicely before going to bed like a little good boy." He snorted, shrugging his shoulders.

"But, I don't know, when I came back here I always felt that she was looking at me with those eyes begging for forgiveness, that she would fall to her knees in front of me if she could, but I don't want her apology. I just wish she wasn't a fucking hypocrite.

So I ran away, to Alys, and fucked her in every possible way you can imagine, the kind that I'm ashamed of now. I think I took it out on her in some ways." He muttered thoughtfully, running a trembling hand over his chin.

He was afraid to look at her.

He was afraid of what he would see in her gaze.

He shuddered when he felt her lay her head on his chest so that he could nestle his cheek against her hair, her hands embraced him instantly − he wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back with trembling fingers.

He knew she could feel how fast his heart was pounding.

"My dad believes I'm an angel too. He's convinced that I've probably never kissed a boy before. I know I'll be a disappointment to him, another one in his life, when he finds out." She mumbled, and he felt a squeeze in his throat at her words, his hand slipping into her hair, his lips kissing the top of her head.

"We don't live to fulfil our parents' expectations." He whispered and she lifted her sad, warm gaze to him, her fingers brushing his cheek before their lips joined in a slow, loud, sticky kiss.

He took her that night lying with her on her side, her thigh set high on his hip, her soft breasts pressed against his chest. He was rooting into her in a quiet, steady pace, teasing the spot inside her from which a sigh of bliss escaped her lips, their hands trailing over their naked bodies, stroking each other's shoulders, hair, necks, cheeks.

They kissed with their eyes closed, sucking and licking each other's lips, running their noses over the hot skin of each other's faces before their mouths connected anew with a wet click, his length stretching her throbbing, moist entrance with each of his deep thrusts.

He was horrified by what was happening to him then, how helpless and vulnerable he was, how much he needed her tenderness, acceptance and understanding, what relief he felt when she gave him more than he could ever hope for.

At last someone saw and wanted him as he really was.

That's why instead of being bored with her, their relationship went from being hilarious and ironic to something serious and surprisingly real.

He licked his lower lip feeling his cock throbbing hard as he read her last message.

While she never sent him naked pictures of herself like Alys did, she drove him crazy with pics of herself when she was dressed so that he could almost see her panties, buttocks or bare breasts.

It was only his pride that made him not beg her to send them to him more often, and apart from that he didn't want to sit with a swollen erection all the time.

He let out a loud breath, tightening his lips, feeling his cock get completely hard at the sight of her in the long, light-coloured sweatshirt and high woollen socks he loved to fuck her in, certain that she was now wearing no bra or panties.

Fuck.

He looked at his screen, but no more answer appeared on it. He licked his lower lip and, with a dangerous grin, left his room quietly, walking down the corridor past their parents' bedroom.

He walked inside her room without warning, locking the door behind him, staring at her for a moment − his stepsister was lying on her bed with a book in her hand, one of her knees raised, looking up at him with those big, warm eyes of hers.

He reached for the belt buckle of his trousers, looking at her like an animal watching its prey; he could see in her gaze that she knew what was about to happen.

"Take off everything except those slutty socks." He ordered coolly; he saw her swallow loudly as she put the book aside and with trembling hands pulled her sweatshirt over her head, with neither bra nor panties underneath, placing her hands on either side of her head. He chuckled at the sight, undoing the button and zipper of his trousers.

"Fucking knew it."

He walked over to her and knelt in front of her on her bed, taking her thighs in his hands, spreading them wide to the sides. She made no resistance to him, looking up at him with misty gaze, her pink lips parted slightly in quickened breath, puffy and glistening in the light of her bedside lamp.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? For your brother to come and teach you a lesson?" He asked dryly running his thumb over her hot, throbbing womanhood, sticky with her moisture, her whole body trembling − she nodded shyly at his words, as if she was ashamed.

"You're leaking, kid. Tsk-tsk." He shook his head disapprovingly, his hand with a sure, rough, short movement slapping her between her thighs − she flinched and squealed, but pressed her lips together immediately when she saw him furrow his brow.

"Quiet. Understood?" He asked coolly, and she nodded quickly.

"− I'm sorry −" She mumbled quietly. He sighed feeling that he wouldn't be able to hold out for too long, his fingers trailing around her puffy clit, not giving her what she needed.

"− good you're sorry − fucking brat − you've been looking at me all day with those big eyes of yours begging me to fuck you − yes or no? −" He growled and slapped her again, harder and louder, she stifled her moan and nodded her head quickly.

"− y-yes − please −" She babbled with difficulty, her breasts rising and falling in accelerated, raspy breaths, her hands clenched on her pillow on either side of her head, in her gaze the heat and pleading he loved, his heart pounding like mad, his fingers teasing her slit.

"− please, what? −" He hissed warningly and she swallowed loudly, already having obvious problems putting full sentences together, her thighs twitching before him.

"− please, big brother − I want you inside me −" She mewled writhing in front of him in impatience − he licked his lips looking at her in satisfaction and hummed under his breath, spreading her moisture over her folds.

"− good girl − come here − yeah, there you go −" He murmured, turning her onto her stomach and lifting her buttocks higher so that she hugged her cheek to the pillow, bucking her hips towards him, her entrance pink and throbbing, glistening from her juices.

He leaned over her and ran his tongue over her clit slipping his trousers lower, a quiet groan of delight came from his throat at how good she tasted − he knew she must have taken a bath before he came, her whole body smelling of feminine shower gel.

He saw her press her face against her pillow and stifled her loud moan with it, her hands clenched tightly on its material. He chuckled under his breath as he saw her state, squeezing himself several times with his hand in a quick motion, enjoying the view.

"− desperate? −" He sneered with amusement and she nodded, her whole body tensing as he guided the head of his cock against her slit − he pushed into her meeting resistance, her tight walls clamped down on him greedily, he could feel she was close to orgasm.

"− no − take it − all of it − that's right, there you go −" He exhaled with a sigh of relief, with a determined thrust of his hips forcing himself into her as deeply as he could, filling her whole, his hands clenched on her trembling hips.

He couldn't stop himself, he began to slam into her with quick, sure, sharp movements, his thighs slapping loudly against her buttocks − he could hear her quiet cries and sobs muffled by the fabric of the pillow she pressed her lips to.

"− be fucking quiet −" He growled low after a moment fucking her with all his strength, fast, brutal, loud − they were both panting involuntarily, they didn't stop even when they heard the door in the next room open, that someone had turned on the bathroom light.

He felt like they both sped up their pace even more at the thought that they might be caught, her hips responded greedily to his every thrust, her hot muscles clenched painfully hard against his cock wanting to keep him inside.

He clenched his eyes cursing in his mind, knowing he wouldn't last long, her muffled moans with each of his thrusts brought him closer to his orgasm.

"− baby − oh God −" He mumbled softly feeling the sudden fulfilment shake her body, she writhed and quivered beneath him like an animal, breathing loudly, her fleshy, hot wall sucking him inside.

He tilted his head back closing his eyes and just cum inside her, falling on top of her, pressing his lips to her sweaty neck trying to stifle his low groan, their bodies quivering and writhing beneath each other, unable to calm down.

"− shhh, little one − it's okay − shhh −" He hushed her in a soothing voice stroking her soft hair, kissing her tenderly on her temple, her cheek, her jaw − she turned her face towards him and their lips joined in a sticky, helpless, dirty kiss.

"− fuck −" He exhaled pressing his forehead against hers; they both closed their eyes intertwining their fingers together and lay in silence, their bodies rising and falling in heavy breathing.

They heard someone's footsteps and the sound of a light being turned off followed by a door opening and closing. They breathed quietly, his little sister hissing in discomfort as he slid out of her with a soft movement of his hips.

"I know, little one. Do you have tissues here to wipe yourself off? Bring you something to drink?" He asked in a whisper and she nodded, lying with her eyes closed completely without strength.

He covered her with a blanket, buttoned his trousers and ran downstairs to the kitchen to pour her some water; he took a glass from the cupboard above him and put it under the turned-off tap. He jumped back and doused himself, almost having a heart attack when he saw Criston right next to him.

He turned off the tap quickly − Criston scratched his head and grunted, as if he didn't know himself what he wanted to say.

"…listen. I know you and my daughter have been close lately. After what happened…you know…she doesn't trust me or confide in me. It seems to me that she has someone, that someone comes to her, I hear sounds from her room sometimes and I just − I just worry about her." He finished embarrassedly, rubbing his chin, lowering his gaze.

He stared at him with his eyes wide open and swallowed loudly, feeling his heart pounding hard.

She and he had talked many times about what they would do if someone caught them or asked them about it, but now that it had happened he was terrified of what he was about to do.

They had promised each other not to be like them.

That they wouldn't be cowards and liars.

He licked his lower lip, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

"Yes, she has someone." He replied coolly, taking a loud sip of cold water from his glass, looking at him with his heart beating fast.

Criston twisted uneasily in his place, looking at him uncertainly, putting his hands on his hips − he nodded, probably not knowing himself what he thought about it.

"Do you know who it is? Is it some boy from her studies, someone decent?" He muttered, running his hand involuntarily over his face in a nervous gesture.

He pressed his lips together before forcing out what he had wanted to say to his face for a long time.

"We've been together for almost two months."

Criston blinked, as if something in his sentence puzzled him, as if he had accidentally used a word incorrectly − his eyebrows arched in amusement, recognising it as an obvious mistake on his part.

"We?"

"Me and her."

The amusement disappeared instantly from his face; he saw that his lower lip twitched. He turned pale all over, his hand dropped as if without strength, he had the feeling that he was about to faint.

"This is not funny, Aemond." He said dryly, and he involuntarily chuckled under his breath, taking a deep sip of water, feeling suddenly confident again, knowing that he had him in his grip.

What the fuck could he do to him?

"That's my opinion as well. I take this relationship seriously." He hummed and Criston was suddenly right beside him − his fists was clenched on his sweatshirt, pressing his back against the fridge with a hard thud, his nostrils twitching in rage.

"Aemond, for fuck's sake, what are you talking about? Is this your revenge on me? Are you mocking me to show me how disgusted you are with me? You're entitled to it, but I swear if you touched her…"

"I love her."

Criston stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, then snorted with nervous laughter, shaking his head, his hands clenched warningly on the material of his clothes.

"What the fuck are you talking about? You fooled her and seduced her, took advantage of her naivety to get back at me? Hm?" He growled in rage while shaking him, an involuntary wide grin of superiority appearing on his face.

"I feel sorry for you if you think this is all about you. You and my mother can fuck as much as you want and beg for forgiveness like the true Christians you certainly are, I don't care. I don't give a fuck about you, pal. I want her."

Criston let go of him abruptly, running quickly up the stairs − he cursed under his breath moving immediately after him, remembering that she was lying under the blanket almost naked and that he had no way to warn her what was coming.

He heard her squeal and scream in terror as her father burst into her room turning on the light − she covered herself helplessly with the same blanket he had covered her with earlier looking at them terrified, breathing loudly through her mouth.

"What have you done?" Cole asked in disbelief, shaking his head. He moved suddenly from his place opening her wardrobe, pulling out her backpack, haphazardly packing her belongings into it − his mother appeared in the entrance to her room, rubbing her eyes, apparently snapped out of a deep sleep.

"Criston? What's wrong?"

"Get dressed. I'll take you to your mother." He said to her huskily; his daughter sat still, shaking all over and glanced at him with tears in her eyes. He swallowed loudly and looked indifferently at her father.

"She will stay with me."

Her father turned to him and looked at him with fury.

"Don't speak, brat, or I'll really fucking kill you!"

"Criston!" Cried Alicent, horrified and bewildered.

"What's going on here, how can you say something like that?" She asked spreading her arms and he pointed a finger at her son with a look full of accusation and pain.

"This little bastard is fucking my daughter to get revenge on me. He used her and he's fucking proud of it." He said clasping her backpack, his mother grabbed his arm, looking at him in disbelief.

"Aemond, what is he talking about?"

"He used me? I wanted it, Dad." She sobbed out in a breaking voice, and he felt a squeeze in his heart at the thought that she had not turned away from him, that she had defended him.

Her father shook his head, not listening to her at all, recognising that she was not thinking soberly, that he had manipulated her so much that she was saying what he wanted to hear.

"Get dressed." He growled and tugged on her arm so hard that the blanket slipped out of her hand exposing her breasts − she squealed and wept loudly, helplessly trying to cover herself again.

Seeing this he moved on him in involuntary reflex and pushed him away from her so hard that Cole hit the back of his head on her wardrobe.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!"

He fell to the floor, losing his hearing and sight for a moment when Criston hit him in the face with his fist − he heard her muffled crying and screaming, heard her quickly put her sweatshirt on and run to him, trying to help him up, her father pulled her to move behind him despite her crying.

Alicent looked at them with horror and tears in her eyes, pale, covering her mouth with her hand, Daeron stood beside her in his childish pyjamas not understanding completely what he was looking at.

"Mummy, what's going on?"

"− dad, stop, it hurts −" She cried all red with tears, breathing loudly, trying to get away from him.

"− you should have thought of that earlier −" He growled pulling her towards the door, but she resisted, finally biting his hand and he groaned, letting her go at once.

She escaped and ran to him, falling to her knees, hiding in his arms, with which he immediately embraced her tightly, panting loudly along with her − he looked at her father with rage, seeing the bruises on her arms, her body trembling in convulsions as she sobbed loudly, terrified.

Criston looked at them in disbelief and shook his head − he looked at Alicent as if he had suddenly realised something.

"Did you know about this?"

His mother looked at him as if he was mad.

"What, of course not, God, Criston!" She mumbled helplessly and burst out into a loud sob herself − Criston ran his hand over his face, walking with a quick, anxious step around her room.

He stood over them impatiently, and he felt his stepsister snuggle tighter into him, clasping her fingers painfully tight on his back, begging him silently not to let her go.

"Get up. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. That's enough fooling around, we're going to your mother's. Come on." He said a little more calmly, but met with no reaction from her − his large hands were stroking her soft hair and back, his lips placing a gentle kiss on her head.

Criston hid his face in his hands, holding back the urge to kill him in front of his mother.

"You won. Okay? You won. We'll move out, you'll get your house back, we won't bother you. You'll never see me again, I promise. Just let her go already." He said powerlessly as if he understood exactly what he meant and what he wanted.

Normally he would have been amused by this, but now all he felt was tiredness.

He was tired of them.

He snuggled into her tighter, pressing his forehead against her shoulder, burying himself in her soft, sweet-smelling flesh, feeling her hold him tighter, her nose and lips nestled into his neck.

He heard Criston move from his place after a long moment and laughed, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, walking out of the room, Alicent moving behind him.

"These kids are completely out of their fucking minds. I'm calling her mother."

He felt her flinch in his arms as she looked up at him in horror, his mouth forming a voiceless "We're leaving."

After five minutes they were both downstairs in front of his car − Criston hearing the front door open ran quickly down the stairs, looking at them in horror.

"…calm down, I know it's my fault, but you just have to…I know, I understand, like…fuck, stop, what are you doing? Get out!" He shouted loudly, furious to see her immediately get into the car, closing the door behind her, panicked. He got in from the driver's side and immediately started the engine, backing out of the driveway, moving forward with a squeal of tyres, leaving Criston and his crying mother behind.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye letting out a loud breath, shaking all over, her figure seemed even smaller to him than normally.

She sat curled up covering her mouth, her eyes clenched in pain, a sea of tears running down her cheeks, she was struggling to catch her breath.

He quickly grabbed her hand that was lying on her thighs in his, and she squeezed it in a panicked gesture.

"I know, little one. It was very scary. I know, breathe." He whispered in a trembling voice, trying to calm her and himself at the same time, looking in the mirror to see if by any chance someone was following them.

They did it.

They ran away.

They showed them the middle finger and fucking left.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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urfavlarry · 11 hours ago

Text

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

-modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. not proof read, swearing, might be OOC

part one || part two

‼️A/N. if anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this fic, let me know!! ‼️

'Taste me, you will see

'More is all you need..'

You were an art major with dreams of becoming a performer—a passion that stuck to you during your high school years. It wasn’t always a dream of yours; as a child, you’d imagined yourself as a ballerina or a doctor saving hundreds of lives but everything changed when the gates of high school and teenage drama opened up to you.

In your sophomore year, you and a few friends stumbled upon a shared love for music and decided to form a small rock band. Powder, your best friend, took the lead as the singer. Her stepsister, Isha, played the drums, while Ekko, Powder’s boyfriend, handled the bass. You took on guitar duties and backup vocals. The band quickly became a big part of your lives, and you weren’t half bad.

By the time you all made it to college—except Isha, who was in her senior year of high school—you were performing at local bars and small venues. The gigs didn’t pay much, but they weren’t a loss either, and your parents were proud of your dedication.

You got more of a recognition when the principal assigned you and the band to play some of your own songs or whatever covers you deemed fit for the occasion and even got an award which earned you the title of the ‘schools rock stars’ by most of the people who attended that day and it quickly spread and stuck until graduation.

The journey, however, wasn’t always just rainbows and sunshine. Learning guitar and perfecting your singing skills took patience, and there were moments of frustration.

Your forgetfulness and stupidity often kicked you right in the ass—or well, fingers— having to buy a new guitar pick every few days leaving your fingers bloody and sore. On a particular night performing at the Last Drop your guitar was left bloodied after you thought it would be an absolutely genius idea to play Metallicas ‘Master of Puppets’ which luckily went great! The crowd went wild however it did earn you quite a scolding from Vander as he carefully put band aids on each of your fingers. However he could tell by the proud look on your face that you thought it was worth it, people coming up to cogratulate you on your performance, suggesting songs or giving you sweets they bought as a sort of reward and all Vander could really do was laugh at his daughter’s best friends foolishness.

While you immersed yourself in music, Viktor—a double major in physics and engineering—navigated a completely different world. His close circle of friends—Vi, Powder’s older sister; Jayce, Mel and Caitlyn, Vi’s girlfriend—shared little in common with your bandmates, yet you crossed paths by chance from time to time. Viktor knew of you mostly through Vi and Jayce’s stories or from the few times he happened to see your band perform.

One such instance was prom, where he watched you take the stage with confidence. Another was a night at The Last Drop, where Viktor had ended up by chance when Vi dragged the group into the establishment for a few drinks.

Today the bar was as lively as ever. The dimly lit bar was packed, and the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses filled the air before the first note was played. “Are you ready?” You half screamed into the mic as a roar of cheers and claps bounced through the walls. You strummed your fingers along the strings of your guitar, gifted to you not long ago by your friends since your old one was pretty wrecked however it still had it’s place and on display in your bedroom as a symbol of where you first started while Isha got into the beat of ‘Can’t stop’ by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

You saw a few faces light up but most didn’t quiet recognize the song but still looked like they were enjoying themselves as the chatter slowly died down, all eyes and ears on your performance.

Viktor sat in the corner with Vi, Jayce, and Caitlyn, his attention flitting between their conversation and the band on stage. He wasn’t one for loud, crowded places, but something about your music intrigued him. He knew of the rock genre because of Jayce being quite a fan of System of a Down and many other bands he would need a whole notebook to name however Vi had a big part of the introduction herself but he adjusted to the change of genre he wasn’t quiet familiar with before he met his dear friends.

There was a passion in your performance that resonated with him, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

After the set, you stepped off the stage, sweaty and exhilarated. Powder gave you a playful nudge, her eyes twinkling with pride. “Killed it as always,” she said with a grin.

“Thanks, Pow,” you replied, wiping your brow. Your gaze swept across the room, catching sight of a group you vaguely recognized—Vi’s crew. As if on queue Vi averted her gaze from the group and caught your attention, waving you over, and though you hesitated for a moment before you all made your way to their table. “Hey, Rockstar!” Vi greeted, giving you a playful smirk. “Nice set tonight. You finally learned how to tune that thing, huh?”

You rolled your eyes at her teasing. “Thanks, Vi. You still can’t keep a beat, though, can you?”

The group laughed, and you found yourself pulled into their orbit. Introductions were made, though most were unnecessary—you already knew who they were. When it came to Viktor, however, there was an awkward pause.

“Viktor,” he said, offering a polite nod. You smiled and gave your name in response and decide to strike up a conversation with the man. “Thanks for sticking around! You don’t seem like the type for these kinds of outings.” You say truthfully and chuckle nervously.

“It was... impressive,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet but sincere. “You’d be correct on that last part. I don’t often attend these kinds of events, but your performance was captivating.” His accent was foreign to you yet it was a cute quality, making your stomach flutter with butterflies. The compliment however caught you off guard. You weren’t used to that kind of earnest praise, especially from someone who seemed like they’d be more of the jazz or pop type. “Thanks,” you said, a bit bashfully. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

The conversation shifted back to the group, but Viktor’s words lingered in your mind. Something about his quiet demeanor fascinated you, and you couldn’t help but want to know more about this mystery of a man.

That night when you all went your seperate ways once you got to the college dorms, Powder noticed how lost in thought you were; basically just lying on the bed and looking at nothing. “Okay, what’s with your teen spirit Cobain?” She chuckles at her own joke and you look at her with a ‘really?’ face, letting out a giggle of your own. “So many other jokes out there and that’s what you come up with?” You push her shoulder playfully and sit up from your bed, facing her. “Okay, okay.. enough shaming my stand up comedy, what’s wrong Y/N?”

“That Viktor guy from your sister’s group.. with the accent and shit?” You start as a smirk sneaked onto her lips, kicking her feet in the air as she lied on her stomach. “Yeaah?” “Well I don’t know, something about me just.. makes me want to get to know him you know?” You sigh, throwing yourself onto Powders bed, lying on her stomach. “He’s such a nerd though! From what Vi told me over the phone a few times he’s like a workaholic but ten times worse girl. And he looks like he has a couple conditions.. probably should get that checked.” She mumbled to herself, making you giggle. “Come on Pow that’s just straight up mean.”

“But look who’s giggling.” She flicks the side of your head and joins in on your laughter.

You remember the cane he had, the golden details and carvings and the way his under eyes were darker then the rest of his pale, almost sickly skin. His jawline was sharp with a straight nose and an almost unnoticeable underbite. He was pretty cute.. He was probably a cool person to be around so you wondered if you’d have the chance to maybe hang out with him.

“Do you think your sister would be up to hanging out? You know, our group and hers? We have that show next weekend we can invite them there and spend the rest of the night doing whatever!” You suggest and quickly get a nod of approval from your blue haired friend which only made your excitement rise.

Next weekend it is.. Maybe he’d be up to a one on one hangout once you have the chance to ask, maybe even over the phone if you’re lucky enough to get his number or socials. Until next weekend all you could do was practice and imagine every sort of scenario of how it would all go.

taglist: let me know if you want to be added

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

#ᯓ★ urfavlarry #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane season one #arcane x reader #arcane fanfiction #arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #viktor fanfic #viktor lol #viktor nation

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