#pedro pascal stepdad

[afictionaladventure16]

With build a home can we get like reader comes home from school upset and finds her mom isn’t home but then Pedro is home but she doesn’t wanna burden him but it ends in them having a movie night and falling asleep on the couch please

❤️

To Build A Home Pt. III (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Reader)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

A/N: Looooove this request!! Hope you enjoy it!! Requests for To Build a Home are open! send them in!!

Summary: Your past comes back to haunt you. You go home in hopes to find comfort in your mother but you are met with Pedro who tries his best to be there for you in dark times marking the beginning of a movement within you.

Word Count: 3,014

Warnings: Mentions of stalking

Waiting for time to go by was excruciating. The second hand on the clock moved slower the longer you stared at it, it was as if it knew you were anxious to leave this place; anxious to join the outside world and it liked the anxiety it got from you. 

You let out a deep sigh as you shifted in your chair, you had zoned in and out of today's lecture about World War II. Your history teachers had a voice that could easily be drowned out by any noise. He had no enthusiasm for any subject he taught and it showed.  

You directed your attention to your best friend who sat next to you, they had been doodling in their notepad for the past twenty minutes. You knew if your teacher had called on either one of you right now you’d be doomed. 

The sound of the bell ringing startled you, and you jumped in your seat. Your best friend caught sight of it and giggled, “Jesus,” you muttered under your breath as you packed up your backpack. 

“We still good for tomorrow?” They ask. You both walked out of the classroom and into the hallway. 

“I don’t know, my mom is still pretty pissed at me from the other day,” you commented. 

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” they muttered. “How is all that going anyway?” 

You shrugged, since the day Pedro took you to the aquarium a week ago, you had only seen him twice. He came over once to take your mother out on a date and for drinks after and he came over another time to cook dinner for your mother. Even though, he said he was making dinner for both you and your mother, you had found a way out of it. Luckily, you already had plans that night to go study with a group from class. You could tell he was trying to keep his distance, trying to respect the boundaries you have silently made. You respected that. You just weren’t sure how you felt about him still. 

Your mother, on the other hand, was angry with you. Angry that you were not being so easy on him and you were angry with her. Hoping she’d be more understanding with the situation. After everything the two of you had been through, you had hoped that she would be the most understanding out of everyone.  

“He’s okay,” you finally commented. 

“Just okay?” 

“I mean, what am I supposed to compare him to?” You sighed, “I don’t know him well enough to say he’s better than my dad or that he’s the best boyfriend my mother has ever had. So, he’s okay.” Okay was going to have be enough. For now. You were scared to say that he was great when in fact he wasn’t. Or to say that he was the worst person ever when he was a sweetheart deep down inside. His being an actor wasn’t adding to the equation. Every site you looked at, trying to find some type of dirt on the man always had something amazing to say. There was no way he was just Pedro. There had to be something. 

They gave you a nod, “I think any man would be better than your dad.” 

You shrugged, “I doubt that.” 

You had reached the front entrance of the school building, where parents picked up their kids and where some waited for the school bus. Your best friend scanned the cars, smiling as they spotted their dad waving at them, you couldn’t help but feel envious of her. They had an amazing dad that was always there for them, one that really cared for them and protected them. You looked around, hoping that you could spot a familiar face. Yes, you had a loving mother who was always there for you, but you were repeatedly missing something. 

“Let me know about tomorrow, yeah?” They said as they began walking away. You gave them a nod before waving them off. Watching as they hugged their dad inside the car, what you’d give to have something like that. 

You began your walk home. It was only a twenty-minute walk and you enjoyed being able to listen to music on your walk home. Just because you listened to music on your walk home didn’t mean you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings though. You were aware of the things that were happening around you, the cars that passed by, the people you saw, and where exactly you were walking. 

Meaning, that you noticed one car pass by you three times already within your walk. Immediately, you took note of the color of the car and model, hoping that maybe it was just a coincidence that you saw the exact same car three times, but it was hard to miss the big dent on the rear bumper. You doubted that there were three cars that were the exact same color, same model, with the same dent on the rear bumper that passed you all within five minutes of your twenty-minute walk. 

Feeling your heart beginning to race, you picked up the pace. You glanced behind you to see the car had pulled over, you could see that there was only one person in the car. The car inched closer, giving you a better look at who was driving. 

Your eyes widened when you realized who it was. Your father. He knew that you realized who he was, he put the car in park and got out of the car. 

“Y/N, sweetie,” he smiled. 

Don’t stop, you thought to yourself. You could hear him grunt as you continued walking down the sidewalk. Hearing the sound of the car door slamming caused you to jump slightly, you could hear the engine roaring to catch up. He slowly drove next to you, rolling down the window. 

“Sweetie, please,” he began, “how about we go for a drive and talk? Just like we used to.”  

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” you hissed as you kept your eyes forward, continuing with your walk. 

“Look, sweetie, the restraining order is just a piece of paper, it’s not going to keep me away from seeing my daughter. Just get in the car.” 

Your house was only a few blocks away, you could run it, but running it would risk him knowing where you lived. You needed a plan and you needed one fast. There were only a few options, run back to the school and seek help there; which was the most logical and sane option. Or you run and try to lose him. 

Running back to the school did have its risks with it now being further away than your house. 

“I miss you, sweetie,” He called out. “I need to see you and I can’t just let some piece of paper get in the way of that! Look, I’m sorry for everything that has happened but I’ve changed!” 

It was always the same exact thing. The same exact words that lost meaning years ago, but they still brought you anger. 

“Go away!” You yelled before sprinting down an alley. It probably wasn’t the best choice, but you knew this alley led to a small walkway towards your street and you knew this was probably your best bet in losing your father. Once you saw the street ahead of you, you stopped to make sure you couldn’t see his car before darting across the street to your house. 

Swiftly, you pulled your backpack off your shoulders before fumbling inside the pockets looking for your house keys. From the distance, you could hear a low rumble of the engine making its way down the street. “Fuck,” you muttered to yourself. Heart racing as you swore to yourself that you left your keys in the small front pocket of your backpack that was full of pencils, erasers, and random pieces of paper. You could hear the small jingle of the keys being pushed around, letting out a sigh as you felt them against your fingers. Pulling them out of your backpack and unlocking the door as quickly as you could, you made it inside just before your father's car made it past your house. 

Locking the door behind you, you ran into the living room, “Mom?!” you yelled in a panic. “Please be home,” you mumbled as tears began to fill your eyes, you ran up the stairs, “Mom!?” 

~~ 

Down the hall, in your mother's room, Pedro heard the door slam shut. For a second, he thought that maybe Yesenia's meeting had been canceled, which would’ve ruined his surprise for her. He let out a deep sigh, thinking that he could come up with some excuse as to what he was doing, maybe find something for her to do downstairs for the next hour. He got up from his position next to the pile of pieces of wood on the floor and made his way towards the door. 

“Mom!?” He heard a voice yell throughout the house, his hand stopped just before he grabbed the doorknob. Thankful that it wasn’t Yesenia, but now he was filled with anxiety. Does he go out there and greet you or stay inside the room? Staying inside the room would probably be the worst thing to do, but he knew you didn’t like him all that much and he wanted to give you the space you needed. Pedro shook his head, he needed to at least let you know that he was in the house. He let out a deep sigh before turning the knob and opening the door. 

“Mom?!” Pedro's heart began to race, something was wrong. He could hear the panic in your voice, and he quickly stepped out of the room. He could see you making your way up the stairs. 

“Hey, Y/n!” He said in a soft tone, you jumped a little as you got to the top of the stairs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Is my mom here?” you asked anxiously as your eyes darted around the house. 

Pedro took in how wide your eyes were and how pitched your voice sounded. “N-no, she had an emergency meeting at work, she won’t be back for a while.” You took in a deep breath as your hands shook, reaching for your phone in your back pocket. “If you’re trying to call her, it won’t help that she left her phone here.” 

“Fuck,” you muttered. You lifted your hands up to your head, taking in deep breaths to control your breathing. Pedro noticed your knuckles go white from gripping your phone, the way you appeared to struggle to catch your breath. He knew what was happening all too well. 

“Y/N?” He softly said as he took a step closer to you. You took a step back.

“I-I,” you took in another deep breath, and you began to fumble with your hands. 

Pedro took a few more steps until you were directly in front of him, taking hold of your hands, “breathe with me,” he instructed. Taking in a deep breath and holding it, you followed. “And out,” he let out his deep breath, he led you in taking a few more deep breaths before helping you down the stairs and into the living room. 

You took a seat on the couch, panic still trying to make its way in. Pedro took a seat next to you, he noticed your eyes darting around, “hey, hey,” he tried to catch your attention. “Deep breath,” he coached you through another deep breath. 

Everything you had thought about Pedro went out the window. Yes, you thought there had to be something wrong with the man, something that no one knows about. A dark history of some kind, but when he knew exactly what to do without asking, at that very moment, you thought maybe there wasn’t. 

Hesitantly, Pedro pulled you into an embrace, holding you just enough for you to stop trembling. He didn’t ask if you wanted to talk or if you were okay, and for you, it was what you needed. You allowed yourself to be okay in his presence, to feel safe. Slowly you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

Pedro wanted to jump up and down with joy but he remained calm, gently rubbing circles on your back until you had fully calmed down. The two of you remained in silence for about fifteen minutes, you felt your heart slowly regain its normal pace and your breathing began to normalize. 

“You ready to talk?” Pedro asked softly. 

You let go of the embrace, tears brimming your eyes once again. “I saw him today.” 

Pedro didn’t have to ask who you saw, he just knew by the way fear took over your eyes earlier. He knew it was a touchy subject, a subject that he didn’t know you would talk to him about. 

“H-he was at my school waiting for me,” A tear made its way down your cheek. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Pedro suggested. 

“Please don’t let him get me,” you pleaded as you looked over at Pedro. “Please.” 

Pedro’s heart broke into pieces, the terror that man had put in you, if it were up to Pedro that man would never see the light of day. Pedro placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, “I won’t.” He let out a sigh, “how close did he get?” Pedro asked. He knew the terms of the restraining order that was held against your father, knowing that if he got within 40 feet he could go to jail. 

You shrugged, “it was close,” you sniffled. 

Pedro sighed, he knew that what you needed to do right now was calm down. He wanted to call the police right away and get the man arrested, but he knew that that was probably not the best way for Yesenia to come home. Once Yesenia came home, he’d speak to her and they’d call the police, but for now, he had other things that needed his attention. 

 “how about we watch a movie?” He grabbed the remote from the coffee table. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” you finally said. You weren’t expecting Pedro to just stop everything and be there for you. If anything, you expected him to go back to whatever it was he was doing, leaving you alone to panic. If it were any other person, they probably would’ve done just that. 

Pedro looked at you puzzled, “I-I–” 

“I don’t get it,” you began, “You come in here and you act like you truly love my mother and I treat you so horribly. I do everything I can to get you to run for the hills but you’re still here. You even dealt with our mess and you’re still here.” You got up from the couch, “So why are you still here? Why do you put up with it?  

He placed the remote back down, “If I’m being honest… I don’t know. I have this immense love for your mother and I… I just can’t explain it. I’d like to be there for you if you’ll allow me to. I know I can never replace your father nor will I ever be like a father to you because you may not allow it, but I would like to be a part of you and your mother's life in one way or another.” 

You shook your head, “I don’t understand.” 

“You don't have to,” he got up from his spot on the couch. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, “this is new to me.” 

“It’s new to me too.” 

“It’s gonna be hard for me.” He nods, “I can’t promise anything.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” he said softly. 

“Alright.” You wanted to believe that you weren’t doing this for him, you were doing it for your mother. Seeing how much joy he brought her made you happy and that should be enough, right? Right. Yet, it was hard for it to just be enough. It was hard to let someone in after years of trauma, but if your mother could do it… then maybe so could you. 

“Movie?” He asked again as he sat back down on the couch. 

You gave him a nod, taking the spot next to him. “I hear Paddington 2 is a good movie,” you commented. 

Pedro couldn’t help but chuckle, “But we have to start with the first Paddington.” 

~~ 

Hours later, Yesenia walked into the house. Exhausted from the long meeting and anxious to see how many missed calls she had on her phone. She made her way to the living room, spotting Pedro a smile formed on her lips, “surprised to see you her-” she stopped mid-sentence as Pedro immediately shushed her. She walked around the couch, her eyes beaming as she saw her daughter laying her head on Pedro’s lap. 

“She fell asleep halfway through Paddington 2, that was like two hours ago. I haven’t had the heart to wake her,” Pedro whispered. He gently combed your hair with his hands. 

Yesenia sat on the coffee table in front of them, “want me to wake her?” 

Pedro shook his head, “She’s had a bad day, let her rest.” He then looked up at Yesenia, “Her father was waiting for her at her school, I was waiting for you to come home so we could handle it.” 

Yesenia’s heart dropped, this was one of her worst fears. “I’m sorry you have to deal with our drama, Pedro. I understand if-” 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he immediately responded. “I don’t want to break up, I don’t see that happening anytime in the future.” He sighed, “I can help.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” 

“I’m offering,” he looked down at you before looking back up at Yesenia, “let me help.” 

As much as Yesenia wanted to decline his offer, she knew she couldn’t do this alone again. She didn’t have it in her anymore, she needed the help. “Alright.”

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01  @tracynooks @cilliansangel  @change-the-world-someday @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @tracysnook @ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog @pcotato @scrappybear89 @dlwrish @what-ever-man213 @boiohboii @drowning-in-paragraphs @stoneredsword @xmurph7 @sleepylunarwolf @glossy01 @aot-task141-lover @uwiuwi

[talaok]

Daddy knows best

Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader

Summary: Joel has given you homework, and although you've never watched porn, one particular thing you see does pique your interest (this is part of a series but can be read alone)

Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence, dub-con, Perv Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| fingering, squirting, anal play, one lil pussy slap, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, allusion to oral sex (m), he takes a pic, and LOADS of daddy-kink (Joel is also meaner in this one)

This is a dark fic, so please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.

a/n: I am a very sick individual. dont read this. honestly. just dont

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2

"Hi daddy!" you smiled, shutting the door to your room to greet him at the entrance.

"hello sweetheart" he grinned at your excitement getting rid of his jacket and throwing it on the coat stand before his eyes traveled to you, and god was he thankful they did.

That tiny baby blue skirt he's bought you was a damn good investment, and your own touch of that little fucking white top was just as good.

There you were, on display for him, all for him... and you didn't even know.

"I like the outfit" he smirked, tilting his head to get a better look at your naked thighs, thighs he now knew from experience to be soft and just... perfect.

"thank you daddy" you giggled, smiling happily

"You know what you need to do sugar, go on" he gestured, his voice deep and almost strained at the thought of what was about to happen.

It had turned into a routine now, but his dick certainly never got used to it.

"of course" you nodded, obedient as ever, your hands going to the hem of your skirt and slowly, slowly bringing it up- up enough to show him your bare core.

Panties weren't allowed anymore.

He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about the fact that he had the power to make you do that, to make you show your whole naked pussy to him in the middle of the living room, in the way your eyes remained on him, patiently waiting for further instructions, pending from his every word, there was something about that that made him thank each existing god every single time.

He got his good look, and then with just a nod he'd made you cover yourself up again.

"good girl" he smiled, getting rid of his boots as you eagerly stalked closer to him.

"how's my favorite girl doing?" he asked, his voice sweet as he wrapped one arm around you, pushing you closer to him.

"good" you nodded "my exam went well today at school"

Your math exam, the same one he'd watched you study a whole week for, even "helping out" in his own way once or twice... a kiss down there for every right answer had become your new favorite study method.

"mhh, of course" he smirked, stroking your cheek "pretty and smart, now that's my girl"

You bit your lip at his words, that warm feeling traveling between your legs once again.

"a-and how did your day go?" you realized was your turn to ask once you got out of the trance his eyes made you spiral into every time.

"mh" he hummed, shutting his eyes for a moment as if to clear his mind of bad memories from his day "Not great sweetheart... but it would have been a hell of a lot worse if I didn't know I was getting you all to myself tonight"

Once again, heat shot to your cheeks at the flattery.

"you thought about me?"

"'f course I did" he spoke softly "couldn't stop thinkin' about all the ways I can help you out tonight"

"yeah?" your eyes widened, excitement piercing through your tone.

"oh yeah" he growled, kissing you as his hand squeezed one of your asscheeks.

You whimpered into his mouth, and he leaned away.

"did you do your homework sugar?"

"mh-mh" you nodded, "I didn't have a lot today, just English" 

A chuckle rumbled deep from his chest

He did that often, smiling and laughing at something you said, and each time, you were left confused as to why.

"not those homework, babygirl"

The sound of a choked "oh" came out of your mouth, and that smug, predatory smile he always seemed to have around you persisted on his lips.

"y-yes" you said finally "yes I-I was doing them now"

"yeah?" he grinned, his fingers on your ass trailing lower and lower... and then lower, until his digits connected with your pussy- your wet, drenched pussy.

"I can feel it" he chuckled, his fingers sliding into you for no more than a second, 

"daddy" you whimpered

"clean daddy's fingers" he shushed you, bringing the proof of your arousal to your lips, and watching you closely, as you obeyed his command.

It was salty, saltier than his come, you noticed, licking his fingers clean.

"you were in your room?" 

you nodded

"let's go then"

__ __ __

Your room was the same as always, pink everywhere, filling every inch of the space, your curtains were drawn, but some light still soaked through them, and the lamp on your bedside did the rest.

You walked before him, as he had instructed, and when you both entered, he closed the door behind you.

You were moving to the bed where you'd left your laptop, when Joel's voice stopped you.

"What's that shirt doing on the floor?"

"oh I must have left it there when I changed" you explained, crouching down to pick it up 

"not like that" He tutted "Bend down, keep your legs straight"

You frowned, but obeyed nonetheless, feeling cool air hit your core

"stay like that" 

"w-why?"

"'cause daddy's gotta take a picture," he said, pulling out his phone and doing just that, a damn good view in front of him.

"w-why are you always taking pictures?"

he rolled his eyes at your need to question him.

"cause they help me keep track of how healthy you are" he lied through his teeth, walking to you until he could place one of his hands on each of your asscheeks, stroking lazily.

"for example, right now your pussy's very healthy" he drawled, one hand leaving your ass to land a quick slap to your core.

You jolted forward, gasping at the feeling.

It stung, but it also felt kinda... good

He chuckled softly again

"got it?"

"y-yes daddy" you gulped, as he helped you get up, groaning lowly at the feeling of your ass meeting his hard cock.

he turned you around, moving some hair out of your face.

"take off your top"

You did.

"now your skirt"

Again, you did,

remaining completely naked before him.

"good girl" he breathed, his index fingers traveling from the valley of your breasts to your navel, his eyes following suit "Now show me what you found" he nodded to the computer,

He sat on the bed, back against the headboard, and then placed you onto his lap.

He smiled at what he saw on your laptop.

"I-I went to the site you told me" you breathed, your voice no more than a whisper.

"so what do you think of porn?" he smirked

"I-I" Although you were naked, it felt a thousand degrees in that room, and his hands stoking your thighs and your nipples certainly weren't helping "I like... some of it"

"Which ones?"

"the ones that don't feel f-fake" you swallowed thickly 

He just grinned

"and did you find a favorite one like I asked you?"

You bit your lip as you nodded, tapping on your computer to switch tabs

"this one"

It was an amateur one, not in hd, the camera not even straight, but the couple... you really liked them

"play it"

with a tap of your middle finger, soft moans started filling the room, as the man in the video started pleasuring the woman with his mouth, grabbing at every piece of her with his hands, as if he couldn't help it, as if he wanted to devour all of her.

You didn't even notice your hips starting to move on their own accord, trying to grind onto something- anything, as your thighs squeezed shut.

Joel chuckled behind you, his eyes not on the screen but on you.

"what do you like about it?" 

His lips met with your shoulder as his fingers pinched your nipple, and there was nothing that could have stopped the moan that escaped you from doing so.

"T-they just look so... happy" you whispered, trying not to cry because of how desperately needy you felt between your legs "so in love"

This time, Joel managed to bite down his laugh

"a-and I like-"

you stopped, too embarrassed all of a sudden

"what?"

"n-nothing"

Joel shook his head, his mouth to your ear

"You're drenching my pants, sweetheart, it ain't nothing"

You almost moaned at just the sound of how deep and hot his voice sounded

"I like that" you confessed, urging him to look at the screen

"you like that?"

he didn't even sound like himself anymore, just a wolf, a wolf holding a defenseless bunny.

"y-yes"

"you like that she's on top of him" he taunted, "that she's riding his cock" he murmured "'s that right darlin'?"

"y-yes daddy" you cried, turning your head to look at him, to beg at him "Please" you whimpered "please daddy do something"

It wasn't just heat now, it was burning flames of need pooling between your thighs.

"what about the other part of the homework?" he didn't mind your pleas

"I- I couldn't daddy" you whined, real tears now stinging your eyes "I couldn't do it, not without you daddy- please"

"aw baby" he cooed "my dumb little baby" fake concern filled his features "Show me what you were doing"

"no please daddy just- you do it"

You were going crazy, literally crazy because of how utterly desperate you were.

"stop whining and do as I say" he ordered, his voice colder "or I'm done helping you out"

As if, he laughed in his mind

You obeyed immediately.

You needed him to help you out, there was so much you still had to learn, and you couldn't possibly teach all that to yourself, you couldn't even masturbate for god's sake.

"lay on your back and show me" he said again, as he got up.

He closed your laptop and set in on the floor as you positioned yourself in front of him.

You slowly planted your feet onto the mattress, spreading your legs.

His ravenous gaze fixed on your core.

"go on"

So you did,

One of your trembling fingers traveled to your core, and slowly- oh so slowly- you pushed it inside of you, whimpering lightly.

He didn't say anything, and so you started moving it, trying to mimic what you've seen him so countless times now... and failing miserably.

"I-I can't" an unsatisfied whine fled your mouth

"'f course you can't, not like that" Joel smirked devilishly "Put another finger in"

"b-but"

"just do it"

You tried, you really tried... but you were so scared, it just felt like too much, like you couldn't handle all that

"I-It doesn't fit- it's too much" you cried "Please daddy help me- please please please"

God, but did you ever stop whining?

And so partially because he wanted you to stop, and partially because he just wanted to, he grabbed your waist, pulling you to the edge of the bed, and dropped to his knees.

"It doesn't fit?" he mocked, your fingers pulling out of you just in time for him to plunge two of his own in.

You gasped and moaned and cried all at once.

"Then how come this little pussy can take my whole cock?" he didn't even wait for you to adjust, to stop squirming, before his index finger thrust inside you "How come I can fit three of my fingers in here?"

Real tears fell from your eyes as you moaned and arched your back like a cat.

You tried shutting your legs, but he spread them apart mercilessly, gripping your thighs as his fingers thrust in and out of you at a scathing pace

He'd never been like this, so fast, so mean

You didn't know if you were breathing, you didn't know if you were alive, if you had fainted, you didn't know anything besides how good you were feeling, how much pleasure he was giving you after you'd been starved so long for it.

"is it too much now?" he mocked, watching you fall apart in front of him "because it looks like it ain't" he growled "it looks like i could fit all my fingers in here and it still wouldn't be enough"

You moaned, you moaned so loud your throat hurt.

"'s that what you want, you want to be completely filled like a little slut?"

slut

he'd never called you that- why did he call you that? Why did it make you clench around him? why why why-

"no please daddy" you moaned "'s too much"

"three fingers is enough for this little pussy?" he teased 

"yes daddy yes- I-"

It was like making a deal with the devil, if you weren't specific enough...

"what about this other pretty hole?" he smirked, his fingers slowing as two of his fingers from his left hand reached between your asscheeks, grazing your other hole 

"d-daddy" you just stuttered

"I think we need to start stretching this one darlin'"

You gasped, as he used your moisture to wet his middle finger and trailed downwards

"I- b-but daddy"

"daddy's gonna fuck it one of these days" he interrupted "and we don't want it to hurt do we?"

You tried to calm your breathing as you answered

"y-you mean you want t-to-"

He chuckled, his fingers pushing into your g-spot making your mind just a big dumb mess.

"I mean I'm gonna fuck your ass babygirl" he explained, his finger pushing more and more at the entrance "it's another lesson, you see" he murmured "but I need to prepare you for it- I need to stretch you out real good for my cock"

His cock. Inside there. How on Earth was that gonna happen?

"That's why you're gonna be good and let me put this finger in here" he emphasized his words by pushing slightly "aren't you sweetheart?"

"I-is it gonna hurt?"

"not if you relax" he cocked a brow "are you gonna relax for me?"

"y-yes" you surrendered "yes daddy"

And that was that.

He pushed his finger into you, slowly, even though there was nothing he would have liked more to just thrust it, and hear your shocked cry.

But the moan you let out- oh the moan you let out was worth every moment of his painful self control.

It wasn't particularly pleasant at first, but then... then it was like fire spread through you, and when the fingers in your pussy started moving faster it was like gasoline dunked onto the flames.

it didn't just feel good, it felt... new.

It felt like heaven and hell altogether, and then it felt like... it felt like you needed to pee.

"d-daddy!" you gasped, your hips grinding shamelessly onto him "daddy's not right- I-I"

tears rolled down your temples, and your belly twisted into knots as your walls tightened and tightened around him.

"Shhh" he shushed you "let go" he said, "let go darlin'"

And so you did.

A rainstorm of pleasure putting out all the fire inside you. Pure, divine bliss took over you as you looked at him, crying out and squirming uncontrollably, until it was all over... until you realized what had just happened.

Whatever that was

"o-oh my god" your eyes widened, taking in his drenched shirt, his wet mouth and chin which you didn't even notice he'd put on you as you soaked him to get a taste "I-I'm so sorry daddy- I- I don't know what-"

He was on you before you could blink.

"sorry?" he laughed "what are you sorry about?"

"I-I-"

"you squirted" he grinned "ain't there nothin' wrong with that... the opposite actually"

"S-squirted?"

"that's right"

"and you're not mad?"

"why would I be mad?" he asked, amusement and thrill glossing his eyes "It's just like when daddy comes all over your face babygirl" he explained "You like that, don't you?"

"mh-mh" you nodded

his cock twitched at that

"And I like when you come all over mine baby"

"oh"

"yeah" he chuckled, kissing you deeply "I'm gonna make you squirt every fucking day from now on sweetheart"

You could only smile before he kissed you again

"now how 'bout we do that thing you saw?" he asked, "you wanna ride my cock sweetheart?"

"yes" you nodded eagerly

"then let's get to it, shall we?"

He gave you one last kiss, before he leaned back, undressing completely.

He chuckled as he caught you eating him up with your eyes, but said nothing as he laid on his back.

"c'mere" was all he said, grabbing your waist as you sat on top of him, your core inches away from his cock.

your hands raked his chest, stroking and admiring him, before you looked at his hungry gaze, and asked:

"what do I do?"

His eyes fell to where his cock sat on his belly

"take my dick in your hand"

You did as instructed, mesmerized by how big and beautiful it looked.

"now raise your hips a little, and slide me into you"

You did what he said, but just as he started entering you, you froze, the feeling foreign and not... good.

The woman in the video seemed to enjoy it so much, why can't I?

"you gotta relax" Joel explained, his right hand going to your clit "Let me in" he murmured, drawing circles on your bud "it'll feel good babygirl, just let daddy in"

And so, slowly, slowly you started sinking onto his manhood, whimpers and moans fleeing your throat with every inch added.

Util finally, you had done it.

"o-oh my god" you choked at the feeling.

He was deeper than he'd ever been, that you ever thought possible.

"good girl" he smirked

You didn't even have time to think about what you were doing that your hips were already moving, grinding onto him, bringing heaven to your core.

"O-Oh m-my"

"bounce on it darlin'"

Your hands sat on his chest as you obeyed, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as you raised and lowered onto his cock, moaning as you threw your head back.

now you understood that woman, It felt amazing

And so you started doing it again and again and again, clawing at his chest as groans rumbled from it.

"good god" he grunted "f-fuck"

"it feels so good daddy" you breathed, your lungs burning for oxygen

"yeah? You like riding me, baby?"

"yes" you cried "I like it so much daddy" 

"like having my cock so deep inside ya?"

"god yes" you whimpered 

"yeah?" he mocked, raising his hips to meet yours and forcing a roar out of you

"daddy! I-"

"you're coming already?"

"y-yes daddy I-"

He cocked a brow as he watched you

"think you deserve to?" he asked, "after acting like that before?"

"please" you begged, your voice nothing but a thread "please daddy let me come"

he remained stoic, and you were so close...

"please daddy, I'm sorry I'll be better, I'll be good- I promise"

He smirked now

"you promise?"

A nod, that was all you could offer

"No more questioning me when I'm trying to help?"

"n-no" you shook your head "I'll do whatever you tell me, whatever you want"

That's all he needed

"come on my cock sugar" he ordered "come like the good little girl you are"

You swore you blacked out after that, the pleasure was so deep and so strong it knocked you out.

The next thing you knew, you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his come leaking out of you.

he'd already told you you needed to tell mom you wanted to take the pill

The words were out of you before you could stop them.

"Y-you were a little... mean before-" you swallowed "when you were using your- fingers"

He groaned internally

"I know babygirl" he cooed, caressing your arms soothingly "but you were acting like a little brat, and I just- I ran out of patience"

"o-oh" 

"I'm here to help you, so it's hard for me when you act like that, understand?"

God how stupid you had been.

He was doing you a favor, and you were acting like a child.

"I-I'm sorry daddy" You pouted, leaning up to kiss him "I'm really sorry I won't do it again"

"thank you sweetheart" he smiled "but I think there's a better way to use that pretty mouth of yours to apologize"

You gulped, as you followed his gaze to his cock

"I'm kind of tired daddy" you murmured

"I know you are" he cooed "but daddy knows best, baby"

"You made me really mad sugar" he explained "And if you want to apologize real good... you're gonna need to suck daddy's cock"

And just like that, you were ascending down his body.

[pascalswift]

BURNING DESIRE

STEPDAD!JOEL x F!READER

SUMMARY : after all Joel did marry your mother, but she was oblivious to the motive behind it. Not silly love, it’s was you. It was always you, His sweet little stepdaughter.

WARNINGS : age gap (reader is early 20’s Joel’s late 30’s), dark!joel, perv!joel, step-cest, oral (f receiving), boob play, pet names, fingering, overstimulation, daddy kink, manhandling, mutual pinning, established relationship, (This is Short, sorry my loves )

JOEL MILLER WASN’T A EVIL PERSON, NO. HE WAS JUST CALCULATED. A very smart man, seemingly very stoic but once you break past the multi layered concrete you’d find someone that you’d never want to leave. Maybe that’s what enthralled your mother to jump into marriage so quickly, she truly believed he was deeply in love with her and she was he. She believed that she just happened to meet a professor at your college whom was single and yearning for the domestic things in life, but she was so utterly wrong.

To Joel miller, well he had found an in. One that allowed him full access to you, free to stare, free to do whatever he imagined without having to worry about a college or a student noticing the way he seemed to linger on you. After all, it was no accident that day when he and your mom “crashed” into each other.

So here he was now, arms crossed over his chest, Dress shirt screaming at the push from his large arms. The older man staring sternly at you as you sat on your bed promptly ignoring him. “I told your mother we’d meet her there.” Joel persisted and you huffed rubbing the heel of your palm over your eyes.

Your mother wasn’t your favorite person, she was money hungry, and self absorbed. She tried to claim she loved you, even more attempting to smother you after your father desperates this life a few years ago but time after time her true colors would peer through the blinds. So sitting at a dinner with her and her husband wasn’t something you’d like, especially if your step fathers brother/business partner was gonna be there. Your mother seemed to love his company…

Joel wasn’t dull he knew his wife likes his brother. But he also knew his brother wasn’t like that.

“Why can’t I just stay here? Tommy’s gonna be there and he’s good company.” You shrugged and Joel’s jaw clenched as he dropped his arms. “But I want ya’ there sweetheart.” Your heart raced as he walked closer to you, doe eyes looking up at him as his rough hand gripped your jaw angling your face upwards. “You just want attention huh?” Joel cooed before he bent down pressing his lips against your plush ones.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You mumbled as Joel pulled away, his brows raising as he crouched in front of you. He tossed the sheet off your legs angling your legs to the side of the bed, Your knees level with his neck. He tilted his head placing his hands on your knees as you were only in a pair of white cotton shorts with a tiny pink flower in the front center right under your belly button, and a plain pink tank top. He eyed the way your nipples imprinted the fabric of your thin tank top.

“Y’know what I mean baby.” Joel stated, his voice a bit lower. “If ya didn’t you wouldn’t be reactin’ like you are.” His hand slid up grazing your clothes nipple and you sucked in a breath. “If I give you somethin’ you promise you’ll get dressed after?” He was smirking, because he knew how to make you comply. You demeanor had changed from refusing to go to nodding with vigor whilst looking at your step-father.

His large rough hands slid up your thighs leaving goosebumps in its wake as his hands reached your shorts. He stood up hands grasping your waist as you tossed you further up the bed, a light giggle escaping your lips that made him smile as he climbed between your legs. Your heart rate was through the rough as he pulled your shorts and panties down in one go tossing them somewhere around the room.

He watched as your chest heaved and he yanked your tank top down letting your breast spring free and he groaned as he ground his hips into the bed to relieve some pressure. He leaned up taking a nipple into his mouth and your head lulled back with a whimper that turned into a light moan when his teeth grazed it. He pulled away pinching your other nipple before he lowered himself between your legs. Groaning at the mess of slick in your folds.

“Baby’s already wet f’me.” You nodded as he kissed your inner thighs, so close to wear you want him. “Word’s.” Joel muttered biting your inner thigh before soothing it with his tongue. “Just f’you daddy.” It escaped your lips and Joel nearly moaned at the way you said it, his hips moved on the mattress getting some relief as he finally flattened his tongue and licked a thick harsh stripe up to your clit.

You hands pulled at his hair as you moaned. Joel had quickly lost himself between your legs, it was supposed to be a little treat but it quickly just became a frenzy. His tongue dipping into your tight hole as You writhed. His arms were locked under your thigh pushing your stomach down not giving you much room to move. “s’good- mmgh”

Joel sucked your bundle of nerves harshly before, letting his tongue trace it before his hang slipped lower and his thumb pressed on your clit pulling up lightly, watching as you held onto your breast absentmindedly pinching and pulling at your nipples, before he returning to sucking and you felt tears brim your eyes as your abdomen felt hot. “D-daddy.” You whined as his other hang slid up between your boobs and both of your hands grabbed onto his larger one.

“I know baby, your bein’ so good f’daddy.” He mumbled as he used the pad of his tongue to lick down towards your weeping hole. His free hand that you were holding coming down as he poked at it with his index finger. Your hips jerked and you whimpered. “Gotta get you ready for later princess, ya’ want that hm?” You nodded eagerly but moaned loudly when you felt his thick finger enter inside you. Joel himself moaning at how warm and tight your walls were, barley just accepting his one finger he could only image what his cock would feel like inside of you.

He was so tempted to just fuck you after this but he didn’t wanna raise any flags. His finger pumped in and out of you and he already felt the way you clenched down on his one finger, your cries only spurring him on. Without warning he pushed his middle finger inside of your hole that was pouring arousal. The stretch was a sweet burn but quickly became just sweet as Joel’s mouth went back on your clit and his fingers pumped deeply inside of you.

He curled his fingers upward and you let out a particularly loud moan as the coil tightened in your stomach and heat slowly started to build up. “P-please- mgh. Daddy I’m g-“ Joel only sped up watching as your face contorted into pleasure. Mouth open with harsh breaths and brows furrowed. He curled his fingers up and sucked on your bundle of nerves watching as your orgasm hit you.

As he fucked you through your orgasm you were sure you blacked out for a minute. The pleasure washed over your body making your head push further into your pillow as you babbled incoherently. When you finally came down from jumping multiple feet in the air you felt Joel’s mouth still on your clit, his fingers still inside of you and your thighs attempted to close. Only to be cut short by his strength. “Daddy s’to much- m-“ you were unable to form a coherent sentence as Joel kept going, seemingly In a trance.

Tears started to fall down your cheeks as you yanked on his hair attempting to push him back but not outwardly telling him to stop, the pleasure being to enjoyable. “Gimmie one more baby.” His voice was raspy as he lifted his head only for a second before returning back to his place between your thighs pulling his fingers from your slick full hole. His fingers covered in your arousal as he smeared it over your clit, hearing your whimper of emptiness.

His hand slid up your neck and his finger tapped your bottom lip letting you taste yourself while he used his tongue to make you cum again.

Before you reached dinner you had already came three times, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle later.

thanks for reading <333

if you wanna be tagged just lmk and message me with requests I’m happy to write mostly everything <33

[toxicanonymity]

Clock

1750 words, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad master SUMMARY: Morning after your first time, you and Joel are still in bed and don't get out during this part. PWP CAN READ ALONE. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, horny fluff, very connected, unsafe P in V, begging, massive creampie, swaddling, light pulling of Joel's hair, implied possible tears, avoiding real life.

A/N: yes app possibilities were limited for this one LOL also this one goes out to @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog .

Just as you're falling asleep, you hear Joel sniffling softly. "What's wrong," you whisper. You put your cheek against his and it's still damp. 

"Nothing," he says. "Just feel lucky." He kisses you on your forehead then scoots up a little on the bed to nestle your head under his and hug you tighter. You don't say anything, just drift off in his arms.

—-

After just a few hours of sleep, you wake up with Joel’s muscular arms shifting around you.  You’re both naked and you’re still facing each other on your sides.  It's as if you barely moved since going to sleep.  One arm is over you and the other is under your pillow, under your neck. He's holding you and hasn't let go. When you register the shape of his warm, hard cock pressed upright against your thigh, your clit twitches. 

You’re not sure he’s awake.  For a minute, you watch his face and listen to his breathing, fighting the urge to  reach down and put him back inside you. You want to see how he acts before you make a move. You're afraid he’ll freak out once he remembers what the two of you have done. 

Joel lets out a short, “Mm” and his cock jumps against you. You peek under the covers,and your breath hitches at the sight of his arousal, stiff and weeping.  You close your eyes and brush your nose against his to wake him up. He sniffs at the contact, then sighs your name. Fingers spreading out, his hand on your back begins to roam and he hums a longer, more awake “Mmm,” as his hand slides down to your ass, then pulls you close against him. “Fuck,” he whispers into your cheek and kneads the plush of your butt cheek.

He thrusts against you and breathes, “That was everything.”  He slowly grinds into you, sucking in a deep breath through his mouth. “Everything I wanted.” No regrets detected. Relief washes over you and happiness pulls at your tear ducts. Joel groans weakly as his cock ruts against you, impossibly stiff. He adds, “But now I just want more" and tightens his arm around you, pulling you closer. His dick twitches against your thigh and stiffens more. 

"Me too" you sigh, and lean your forehead against his. 

He takes in a deep breath.  “Christ,” he exhales.  “You felt like heaven.” 

He shifts his hip so his hard cock unsticks from your thigh, then he pins it up against your mound and groans. Your elbow is hanging over his side and you’re tracing the muscles of his back.  

You hook your knee over his ass, tilting your hips up so your dripping seam slides along his throbbing manhood. You want him inside you even more than you wanted him last night, if that's possible. Some foolish part of you thought you wouldn't ache quite as desperately for him once you had him. 

“God damn, I want you,” he breathes, then his voice becomes more gruff. “Want you all for me.” He rubs up against you and your body needs him in you, so bad. "Need you, baby," he whispers with another thrust against you. "Need to have you." 

He shifts his hips and his cock finds your entrance.  Your cunt catches his tip with a tilt of your hips and you gasp at the first prod of his swollen tip into your ample wetness. You pull your face back just enough to look at him, with his cock-head just inside you.  His eyes are a little watery, still sleepy, a bit puffy from last night. His pupils are blown wide.  He reads your face, looks at your mouth, , then his eyelids slowly fall and his face drifts toward yours.  Your lips connect softly as he pushes his cock in your needy warmth. 

His shaft slides into you snugly, and he uses his grip on your ass to bottom out with an “Mmm” into your mouth. He stays there, all the way inside you, just like the night before. He groans like he couldn’t bear to take even an inch of himself out of you.  You would love to wake up like this every day. 

“I could just live here,” he says hoarsely, and your heart jumps. 

“Here?” you ask softly. 

“Your body,” he whispers and the words rush through your blood, puckering your nipples, wrapping your leg tighter around him, squeezing his cock with your walls. You use your leg to pull yourself tighter against him, wanting as much of him as you can have. You kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth. He takes it hungrily, sucking it in, feeding your mouth his own tongue. He draws back his cock, then plunges to the hilt with a grunt and stays all the way inside again.  He latches onto your neck and sucks. Still sucking your neck, he moves his cock in short pulses. He wants to be all the way inside. He wants to live there. But his hips can't help but move. 

His lips release the delicate skin of your neck and he murmurs, "Nowhere I’d rather be." His cock slowly retreats then slides all the way in again with a sigh.  The next time, he doesn’t hesitate as much.  The pursuit of friction, the need to feel every ridge of your cunt massaging his shaft overtakes the need to occupy every inch of your body. The arm under you flexes as that hand comes to your hair.  He cradles your head. 

His hips settle into a slow rhythm, with his thrusts smooth and powerful.  He savors every inch of you every time, sighing as he bottoms out.  He breathes heavily and grunts. “Fuck, baby.” He feels like a dream. This perfect cock feels like a dream. All his skin against yours. For a moment you pray it's not a dream – his showing up in the middle of the night, giving you what you wanted. Doing it again in the morning with no need to discuss.

He moans as your walls hug him with his every move inside you.  "This is real, sweetheart," he musters as though reading your mind. "We're –ohhh–doin' this,” he says to himself. “Fuck, thank god,” he adds, leaving no room to wonder whether he thinks it's a good thing. His thrusts pick up power and his moans strengthen. 

He breathes vocally, slowly burying his length in you with a hand on your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh. His fingers dig into you so desperately it might bruise. The way he moves tells you he's hell bent on keeping your bodies as close as possible. Tension is coming to a boil in your gut.  He breathes louder, and his breath is hot against your cheek. He stays deep and grinds, making your clit twitch, grunting with every small push of his hips. 

"C'mon, sweetheart," he growls in your ear. "Ohh, god."

Your hips grind into his and you moan, "J-Joel–ohhh, Joel, I'm–"

 “C'mon, baby," he breathes. "need to fill you—ohhh–fill you up,” he pants. "Oh god I need to, baby—mmmgh" 

The sound of it has your climax in reach. One more grind into him and you're there. 

"Jo-ohhhh," you sigh as the tension snaps and pleasure washes over you. You spasm and jerk into him and can’t form words, you can only whine. You want it bad. You want his cum. 

He pants, “Can I–uggghhh–can I do that, sweetheart?” His cock twitches as he bottoms out again then pulls back. 

You fist his hair and moan as you pulse. “Joel,” you whine and begin to gush around his cock–"ohhh,” gently pulling his hair.

“Can,” he pants, “Can I come in-ohhhh–nngg inside,” he whines. "Please." You pull his head back and his eyes glisten. 

You’re nodding and manage to sputter out, “Y–yeah,” then a sigh, "God, do it."  You're so full of his cock already and you ache to feel him cum. You repeat, “do it, Joel,” more forcefully.

"God, yeah," he breathes, then his lips sloppily find yours.  As his tongue gently breaches your mouth, he grabs your ass and slams into you with a guttural "Mmm" into your mouth.  His other hand holds your head, pulling your face into his as his hips thrust him into you at just the right angle. 

His cock throbs massively, pushing against your walls.  In huge bursts, he releases an unfathomable load.  He continues short, slow thrusts of his cock deep inside you. With a grunt and a burst of warmth every few seconds, it seems to last forever. It must be as much as he came last night. It feels like more with it inside you. It's dripping down his cock while he's still cumming. It’s already overflowing. He sighs your name with his last pulse. 

He stays inside. He sighs your name again. "You feel like fuckin' heaven, (a pained sigh), I swear to God." You're full, you're spent. With his cum filling you all the way up and also coating your inner thighs, you fall back asleep. 

You wake up to Joel's phone ringing. You don't even remember seeing his phone last night, but apparently it's on the floor. You pull your sticky thighs apart and begin to roll over to reach for his phone on the floor and he protests, "no," as his cock slides out of you. "Ugh," he sighs. He scoots toward you and pulls you back into a spoon, stopping you from reaching it. "Not worried about it," he sighs into your neck as it stops ringing. 

He really doesn’t want this to ever end.  Neither do you, or you’d be in the shower by now.  You settle back into him spooning you, hugging you. Your skin is hot with feelings.  Eventually, you fall back asleep.  

—----

When you wake up again, Joel is still dead asleep, borderline snoring, but in a cute way, not obnoxious.  Your phone is on the other side of the bed, but his arms have loosened enough that you're able to roll away and reach down to check his phone for the time. As you roll over, you can feel some of his cum trickling out of you.

You pick up his phone, turn on the screen, and see It's well after noon.  The call was from Tommy.  The lock screen is a picture of you, Joel, and your mom. But the photo is positioned on the screen in a way that only you and Joel are showing. 

-----

THANK YOU for reading and engaging ! I could really use the morale boost of your comments and reblogs, it helps a lot with my writing energy! Love you guys. You can always follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications to be notified of new fics. You have to have youru phone allowing tumblr push notifications.

-----

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret

[grnherbs]

been thinking so hard about stepdad!him and showing you off and humiliation lately

cw: stepcestish, but no direct mention apart from a mild daddy kink? cockwarming,

the way he'd pat his lap and pull you in as you go to grab him a beer, play with your shorts and slowly grind you against him, right in front of all his friends.

"gone all shy in front of ya daddy's friends huh? not so shy when you were dripping on my cock earlier on" he chuckles out, "think I'll keep you right here, why don't you show everyone how good you can warm my dick baby?"

he pulls your shorts to the side and unzips his trousers, taking out his hard cock and sinking down on it, already soaked from the teasing.

"there we go, good girl, just keep daddy's dick nice and warm for me, don't move and maybe I'll fuck you so good on the table, show everyone how good you sound" you nuzzle your head into his shoulder, arms wrapped round his neck and he lets out a moan when you clench around him gently.

[fanfictilltheend]

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

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

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

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

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

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel grins.

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

***

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

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

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

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

Joel’s face flattens.

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

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

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

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

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

You smile to yourself.

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

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

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

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

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment. 

***

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

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

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

You nod off.

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Typical.

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

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

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

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down. 

God, you are so fucked.

***

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

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

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

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

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

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

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

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

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

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

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

The butterflies in your chest howl. 

***

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

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

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

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

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

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

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

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

“Jeez,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

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

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

You look into Joel’s eyes.

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

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter. 

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

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

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

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

You blush. 

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

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

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

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

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

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

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

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

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

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

“Right here.”

***

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

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

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

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

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

***

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

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

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

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

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Max frowns ever so slightly. 

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

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

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

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

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

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

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

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

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers. 

That makes you feel a bit better. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Max never loses. 

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

You know it’s over then.

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

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

You shiver and Max positively cowers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel flinches.

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

He stares at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too,” you giggle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

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

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

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

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

He snickers. 

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

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

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

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

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

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

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

Joel looks flabbergasted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering. 

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

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

You grin, but then your face falls. 

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

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

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

You shiver.

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You happily fall backward. 

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

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

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

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it! 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

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

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

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

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

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

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

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

inside your body.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Joel does stop for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When your words come back you reply,

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think about it for a second.

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

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART 1

PART 3 (coming soon)

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

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@paanchusblog   @prettystrangething @untamedheart81 @kotourasan123 @valkyreally

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[anchoeritic]

i usually Do Not like the stepdad trope but i never knew stepdad!joel was something i needed,, i need corruption kink/dumbification kink stepdad!joel

stepdad!joel humiliating you in front of his big boy friends when you step out in your tiny lil pajama set to bring them a couple of beers. some whistle, the others stay quiet and laugh to themselves. you were a beaut, there was no doubt about it. his friends wished they could have a piece of you, just for one night, and joel knew that would never happen. not on his watch. maybe he’ll let them take a peek, just this once. “c’mere, sweetheart’.” you hear him call out for you from a few feet away as his fingers signalled you to step closer. smiling, you walk over with an opened bottle of beer in hand, ready to serve the others. “hi, joel,” you feel his hand snake around your waist, pulling you right on his lap.

“how’s my darlin’ girl?” he asks you, taking the bottle from your hands. “lookin’ pretty today,” he continues, taking a swig of his beer, “daddy’s buddies even think so.” you glance shyly at the men sitting around the bonfire, waving at them with warm cheeks. no one had ever complimented you the way joel does, he tends to sound extra… sweet? made you feel all blushy and bubbly inside. “t-they do?” you stutter out, “thank you..” their eyes are hot against your skin, as if they’re peeling your clothes off. they looked ready to devour you whole.

“mhmm… pink looks great on you, princess.” he says, flipping your skirt up to show the other men. you gasp at his words, forcing your skirt back down in an instant. the group tucked their chairs in closer to try to get a better view, almost salivating at the tiniest showing of lace. “j-joel, what are you doing?” you try to cross your legs, only for him to spread them back open with his hands, slipping one down to cup your cunt. “feel you achin’ down there, sweetheart. let daddy and his friends take care of you, okay? mama doesn’t need to know about our fun, hm?”

[devilmademewriteit]

Joel Miller & Javier Peña Headcanons (Drabbles?) Part 3!

another smutty edition<3

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [both receiving], fem penetration, masturbation) so 18+ only content; afab fem reader; mentions of hair pulling; bratty!reader; violence (slapping, choking, threats); mentions of pornography; description of a panic attack; step-cest; pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, darlin, hermosa, cariño) dubcon/non-con (age gap, power dynamics, coercion, just a bunch o’ shady shit in general imsosorry)

No use of y/n.

Hello! In honour of 2K followers (woot woot!!!) here is yet another work of absolute FILTH. These just get more and more insane idk what to do w myself. Your requests r gonna send me straight to hell. Anyways, I love u all so much. Don’t forget to join the taglist, you can find the other drabbles on my masterlist, & part 3 of Salvatore coming soon!

-em<3

—

Javi loves when you take charge—God, it just makes him laugh. He watches you, faithful that you’re in control while you ride him, fingers coiling weakly around his neck. “Gonna come for me, Peña?” He lets your imagination run wild until he grows impatient, sitting up to crush you between his arms, fucking up into you at his signature brutal pace. “Where’s all that tough talk now, hermosa?” He sounds so soft, so gentle compared to the thrust of his hips—snapping to bruise against the supple skin of your thighs. You never know how he manages to last so long, only that by the time his hot seed is leaking down between your legs, you’re barely conscious, barely human, and squirming away from those fingers—that cock—stealing non-stop orgasms from your core. He’s only satisfied once you’re reduced to his personal little plaything.

“Where you goin’, baby? I’m not fuckin’ done with you.”

Stepdad!Joel catching you and your boyfriend messing around in your bedroom; “Get out,” he growls, holding the door open as the young man scurries out, averting Miller’s violent gaze with his own downcast, darting eyes, hurriedly tucking himself back into his pants. Shame spreads like the wings of a Monarch across your heating cheeks. “Joel—I—” but he’s already too close, shaking his head in disappointment as he unhooks the buckle of his belt. “Didn’ think you were like that, baby…” and he’s pinning your shoulders down, covering your mouth with his calloused hand, muffling your protests to keep your little lesson private. “Pay attention, angel. F’you’re gonna act like a slut, you’re gonna get used like one, too.” Joel is huge, he stretches you far, far wider than your boyfriend ever could. When he bottoms out between your tight, silken walls, you can’t help your cry of surprise, of pain—of reluctant ecstasy. “Sshh, baby—don’t scream, don’t scream.”

“M’doin’ you a favour, see? Think you don’t fuckin’ deserve this?”

It had been ages since you’d last seen him. He’d gotten himself disciplinary leave—some shady business with an anti-Escobar group of vigilantes. But he’s back now (as your boss, no less) and so is that stupid-old-crush. And God, does he ever look good, sulking around in those navy fitted suits. Your heart had lurched when he’d recognized you—“Nice seeing a familiar face around here, ‘specially a pretty one like yours”—but working late tonight, finally on your way out the door, he commands it to a full stop when a worn-down, stressed-out Javier Peña calls you back into his office. “I-I don’t have a ride home, sir—I can’t miss the last bus,” as he dips down to brush kisses to the side of your throat, as his hands caress the valley of your waist, as he lifts you onto his desk, carelessly scattering confidential affidavits, narco-profiles, ball-point pens. “Oh, but you won’t last long, cariño—I promise,” and you believe him, because his thumb on that delicate, throbbing bud already beckons, pulls, drags you towards oblivion. Sooner or later, he would’ve had you like this—spread open on lacquered oak; thighs trembling in the cradle of his grip; fingers, helpless, tugging at his collar as his own curl inside you. You’re learning a new language: Javier’s native tongue.

“Not gonna say ‘no’ to your boss, now, are you, sweetheart?”

Slapping brat-tamer!Joel across the face after he spends hours teasing your dripping cunt; feeling him ripple with lust-soaked aggression when he finally pulls his damp cock from its drag-and-circle strokes against your clit. “Joel—fuck me, already,” and he claps the back of his hand across your cheekbone, yanks you down the mattress, settles himself to tower, cock in hand, right above your face. He wrenches your lips apart, slaps his length against your awaiting tongue—“Watch your mouth”—eyes alight with caution, irritation, warning. So, you respond, “Fuck you.” A big ol’ fist yanks you up by your hair—you know you’re being punished when he stuffs your filthy mouth oh-so-full with his length. “Yeah, fuck you too.” Every pained choke, the pressure of your hands pushing against the merciless, quick snaps of his thighs—it’s Joel Miller’s favourite kind of apology. He’s nonchalant, deceptively casual when he says it: “Nah, you don’t needa breathe—”

“—You’re gonna stop bein’ such a brat, or you’re gonna gag on an old man’s cock ‘til it fuckin’ kills y’a… whichever comes first, angel.”

On those rare nights he found himself alone, Javi liked to jack off, a glass of whiskey in his free hand. Sometimes with porn, most often without. When he did use the tapes, however, his go-to featured a dark haired man brutally fucking a girl into the dented pillows of a worn-in couch—God, she looked just like you. The real ‘you’ that was tough, incorruptible, a bit high-strung, and completely self-denying becomes a needy, cock-drunk mess at 6:12. Split wide open, taking it so rough, she whines, “You’re g’na m-make me come all—all over your c-cock.” If Javi doesn’t finish right then, he always does around the eleven minute mark, when her cheeks puff up around his fat tip, glassy eyes coming alive with that familiar, feminine devotion to male pleasure. When a forceful hand drags her lips down a long length of cock, that’s when Javi doesn’t stand a chance; he hangs off her every muffled, desperate word (and Christ, does her voice ever sound like yours): “Use me—please—use me, use me, use me.” In his twisted, sex-addled mind, he’s answering you, warm spend dripping onto thick, coiled fingers:

“I want to—fuck, wanna use every square inch of you, baby.”

The Jackson commune required all adults to take shifts patrolling the community; you’d been paired up with a far older, far more experienced, and far more… volatile partner. He rarely made conversation, but he got on with your dad, so it seemed like a good pairing, one that might teach you a thing or two—a rational decision. It wasn’t. Very quickly, you’d noticed his near tangible stares of hunger, the way his fingers clenched into white-knuckle-fists every time the weather warmed and your clothing got shorter—tighter. Soon, you’d made up your mind: you needed Joel. “Stop fuckin’ teasin’” he’d growled under the blood-orange glow of the southern sunset, grasping your flattened palm and moving it from its suggestive position on his chest, “M’not givin’ it to you.” Creeping in close, running your thumb across the sparse, silver-flecked hairs peppering his rigid jaw: “But I’ll be so good, Miller—I’ll listen, I can beg for it, too—please, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“S’exactly the problem, darlin’. Jus’ one touch n’ I’d have you doin the dirtiest things for me… Fuck, wouldn’t be able to look your old man in the eye for months.”

Bonus Fluff:

Thank God they’d managed to stop the outbreak. It had felt like the end, at first, with the government-mandated lockdowns, people hoarding toilet paper and Lysol, going stir-crazy behind closed doors. And thank God for your neighbour, Joel Miller, who’d become something like your rock throughout those terrifying weeks. He’d never been close with your emotionally distant parents (really, who was?) but you were friends with his daughter, so he’d always treated you like one of his own. Until one Friday night, when you’d fallen asleep watching TV with Sarah and woken up to the thrum of your heart pounding against your ribs, beige walls closing in tight, the beginnings of a panic attack cresting throughout your shaking body. “S’okay, s’okay,” and he’d been there, cradling you in those blue-collar arms, cooing wispy, gentle comforts into the crook of your neck. The memory was mostly haze—but you kept the ghostly caresses of his finger tips smoothing the tense muscles beneath your skin, the near-kisses he’d brushed to your forehead, throat, and cheeks, and especially his look of restraint as he’d replaced your restrictive clothes with his own oversized tee. The next morning, you’d come to in his bed, nose nestled into the crumpled folds of his black t-shirt. Heat blossomed across your cheeks as the sunrise brought realization’s dawn upon you. “You jus’ wouldn’ calm down—” Joel’s concern had overwhelmed his tone as his thumb traced the apex of your cheekbone.

“Jus’ couldn’t stand to see you so… upset, sweetheart. Holdin’ you’s the only thing that seemed to do you any good.”

It took months of dating before Javi had been willing to surrender any personal information, any vulnerable thoughts to you. Christ, just learning his father’s name had felt like cracking the Da Vinci code. Instead of talking, whenever he got sad, angry, or upset, he soothed himself by stripping you down, shoving you onto all fours or holding your mouth open between his thumb and index—either one worked just as well. Somewhere down the line, you’d learnt that splitting you open left him more inclined to open up, himself. “Why is it always rough when you’re… unhappy?” It��s a timid question, posed with your cheek laid against his shoulder. First, he asks if you really want to hear the answer. Then, he responds with his eyes closed, shy strokes up and down the length of your spine. “Guess I like the control—feel so fuckin’ out of it when shit gets to me.” You go silent, startled by his honesty. “Does it bother you?” and he sounds nervous, concerned. “No,” you say passionately, ardently. “I like knowing I can help.” Smooth and quick, Javi cups your cheeks, pulling you up to straddle him and laying a fierce kiss at the altar of your swollen lips.

“You single-handedly brought me back to life, baby. Got no fuckin’ clue how much you do for me, every damn day.”

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @pining-and-tired @inkedells @stardust-chords-enthusiast @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @bookofbee @liviloo12346 @anyas-stuff @readingsunshine97 @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal @supernaturaldean67 @razrsharpwhiteteeth @peqchsoup @corrodedcherries @hawsx3 @monboudoir @theonewithacrush @pono-pura-vida @sallymilkweed @fruitcupsworld @mads-grace4 @ayehomo

(The rest of the tags will be in a reblog—I don’t want this post to crash b/c of the amount of tags lol).

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

"Daddy Please" Murder Daddy Kinktober 2023 Day 3 Stepdad!Dave York x Reader

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. This blog is a personal space and I write predominantly smut, with some dubcon and other Dead Dove Do Not Eat level content. I will always pre-warn for anything triggering and will always endeavour to include tw/cws in the tags, and warnings at the top of my fics.  Please heed these warnings and the warnings put in place on each individual fic and chapter. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.  Specific Warnings: Daddy Kink, Sex Work, OnlyFans, Cam work, Infidelity, Step-Cest, Dave York(he always needs his own warning), Possessive!Dave, Men being sexist dicks on the internet, choking, degradation, rough sex, rough oral sex, exhibitionism. Let me know if I missed anything! Graphic made by me, does not convey shape, race, or hair colour of reader, the panties just looked so good, no use of Y/N.

Summary: Your hot stepdad Dave York catches you creating OnlyFans content. [Read on AO3] - [Ko-Fi]

Dave

“Honey? I’m home!”

Dave calls from the front door as he shucks off his dress shoes, hoping beyond hope that his wife was home and his stepdaughter – you – were not. But silence is all that greets him, neither of you it seems are home. He sighs to himself and heads straight for his basement, or his man cave as your mom calls it.

He descends the stairs slowly, fatigue making his body sag, frustration making his neck ache from strain. He’s been gone two weeks on a business trip in Hawaii, to you and your mom, it was some tax scandal for a congressional race in Arizona. In reality, it was a hit on some one-percenter who had fallen on the wrong side of a cartel.

Money can’t buy sense.

He thinks to himself as he throws his suit jacket and briefcase down on the tan, L-shaped sofa in the middle of the basement. He flicks on the TV to check the news and as expected, his hit was on every channel. He smiles morbidly to himself at his anonymous infamy. He groans and stretches as he looks around the bare, dark wood panelled walls, he really needs to remember to decorate this space someday.

The TV runs as background noise as Dave steps into the small office to the right of the basement. He strips bare, his clothes pooling at his feet as he locks the door behind him. This room is more his own, a double bed with crisp white sheets dominates the room. A desk and computer with multiple monitors squeezed into the right side of the room, and a door leading to his ensuite. A small dresser acts as a nightstand wedged between the wall and the bed.

The small space comforts him, one door in, one door out. No windows, no surprises. He lets out a long, heavy sigh of relief as he lets himself relax for the first time since he left two weeks ago. Dave pads into the bathroom and showers, brushes his teeth, and shaves the two weeks of stubble from his face.

Suitably refreshed he throws on a pair of sweatpants and flops down into his leather office chair. He wakes his computer from sleep and pulls up his VPN, scrambling his IP manually before logging into a private browser. Some of it is habit, some part of it is to make sure his wife never sees his browsing history. He doesn’t bother with headphones, no-one is home, and he probably won’t last long anyway.

He almost feels ashamed, sneaking around like a teenager, but when your mom refuses to so much as touch Dave when you’re around, he feels like he has no other choice. The video starts and the streamer is nowhere to be seen, her usual purple sheets are made neatly, her blackout curtains drawn as always. But there’s something new, something that Dave feels uneasy about.

A string of bumblebee fairy lights; hung over her headboard. Double layered in a rainbow of colours that pulse and fade like fireflies in the Summer. Something about it is too familiar, something he feels like he should recognise. He shakes himself out of it, turning to the comments to smirk at their desperation as the stream officially starts with her usual greeting.

“Hey there Daddies, you miss me?” The sweet lilt of his favourite OnlyFans streamer, Princess Luna, is like music to his ears as he feels his cock hardening before she’s even on screen. Comments flash up in the live chat straight away, and Dave chuckles to himself.

He never comments, he just subscribes on his private credit card, tips generously, and almost never misses a stream. Especially when it’s her. He feels superior to the others, never begging for attention, just admiring her in a way he feels no-one else can. He knows he’s being more than a little delusional, but he doesn’t care.

Moments like this, he can forget about how miserable his marriage is.

ImUrDaddy: Oh baby where’ve you been? Daddy’s cock has missed you.

StepDadz129: Fuck Princess, come on let us see you. Daddy needs you.

PDaddy1$: Stop teasing me Luna darlin’, show me that tight little cunt.

The messages keep on coming but Dave isn’t looking anymore, all he sees is Luna sliding into view. As always, Luna’s face is covered with an elaborate masquerade mask. This one is a deep burgundy with black lace forming a veil over her mouth, with gold filigree in swirling baroque floral patterns around her eyes giving her a mystical air.

Her dark red lace panties and bra compliment the mask as she settles on her knees in the middle of her bed. He slips his cock out of his sweatpants and takes himself in one hand, sliding over the soft foreskin languidly as he takes in her breasts. Salivating at the way they swell over her lacy cups, begging to be freed.

“I’ve missed you Daddy, been so tense these last few days, missing my step daddy so much.” She continues and Dave groans audibly at the taboo pet name, his cock already fully hard.

“He’s been away for two whole weeks, and all I want is him to stuff me full of his fat cock until he spills his load in me.”  

Dave tries to push the nagging feeling in his mind away, something is off, but he grits his teeth as he focuses on the beautiful woman on screen, her hands already pulling her lacy bra down over her pert nipples. He slowly pumps his cock, desperate for release but he’s not going to let himself go. Not yet. The shows only just begun.

~*~

You

A knock at the front door startles you, your two fingers are deep inside you as the stream begins to heat up.

“Shit,” You curse to yourself and quickly spring up from the bed, “Sorry Daddy, I’ll be right back.”

You hear the comment notifications go wild in your wake and you silently bless whatever distraction has come up. Your viewers are going to be so thirsty for you once you get back. You shoulder on a black silk robe embroidered with white cranes and loosely tie it around you.

You hurry down the stairs, eyes glued to your phone where you watch the comments come in on the stream.

PDaddy1$: Baby! Come back you were doing so good for me!

ImUrDaddy: Aw baby don’t be a brat, I know there’s no-one there!

StepDadz129: Bitch!

You roll your eyes, clicking the mute button on the one comment before you hop down the bottom step. You check yourself out in the hall mirror for good measure, modest enough to answer the door but slutty enough to raise an eyebrow. You grin triumphantly and open the door wide, clinging to the edge of the door to greet them.

~*~

Dave

Rage courses through Dave’s veins as he sees the slew of abuse popping up on the chat the moment Luna disappears. He hates it when the entitled pricks come out to play.

His head snaps towards the basement stairs when he hears the sound of someone in the hall upstairs. Immediately Dave switches into work mode, ripping the desk drawer almost off the runners as he snatches up his pistol. He snaps in a mag and stuffs his achingly hard cock back into his pants.

He stalks back up the basement stairs, breathing slow, regulating his heartbeat as he prepares to face the intruder. He cracks the basement door open and sighs with relief as he quickly flicks the safety on his gun before stowing it in the back of his waistband.

It’s just you.

He thinks to himself as he eyes you from behind, the basement door has a perfect view to the front door, and more importantly your bare legs. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the silk robe hugging your curves so beautifully. He hears your flirtatious giggle and if he wasn’t already hard, he knows he would be just at the sound of it.

Get it together, that’s your stepdaughter.

He scolds himself internally, but thinking it only makes him ache more. Isn’t that exactly what he was just watching on OnlyFans? He shakes himself out of his dark thoughts just as you finish signing for the parcel.

“Thanks dude, have a great day!” You call to the delivery driver and Dave makes his exit hastily. He closes the door without a sound and creeps back down to the basement.

Only once he’s back in his chair, watching abusive comments piling up in the live chat does he let out the breath he’s been holding. He stows his gun once more and waits for Luna to return.

She steps back into view with her phone in hand, black robe with embroidered white cranes on the hem. She’s texting in earnest before throwing the phone back down on the bed. A notification comes through on Dave’s phone and if he wasn’t already joining the dots the confirmation makes him almost come in his pants. The text comes through, from you.

Hey Dave, package for you on the kitchen counter, can’t wait to see you later! Xx

His heart is in his throat, surely it has to be a coincidence, some fucked up twist of fate. That can’t be you? You can’t be Princess Luna, surely?

“Sorry Daddy, a parcel came for you, left it on the kitchen counter for you.”

Then he hears it clear as day, you alter your voice a little, maybe you use software, or are just that fucking good an actress. He honestly can’t tell.

But the moment the robe drops from Luna’s shoulders he just knows.

“It’s you.”  

~*~

“So where were we Daddy?”

You ask to the webcam, mask secured, and panties pulled to the side, aimed directly at the professional camera you have mounted on your desk. You pull your phone back up to check the messages once more.

A litany of abuse for leaving too soon from your lowest tier supporters, typical. You have to have thick skin in this line of work, so you just mute a few before a familiar username pops up. Your eyebrows raise in surprise, it’s your favourite customer. The faceless, voiceless patron of your works that simply pays your highest tier, tips often, and not once has he given you abuse.

DukeSilver09: Hey there hon, don’t listen to these pricks, you’re doing a great job for me Princess.

Your cheeks heat up at his kindness and for the first time, you’re not just getting off to your own fantasies.

“What’s your story then Duke Silver? Fan of Parks and Rec?”

DukeSilver09: Yeah, my stepdaughter recommended it to me for when I’m travelling.

Your brows furrow for a second, trying to remember if you’d recommended it to Dave, or if it was just some crazy coincidence.

“Good taste, you fuck her yet Duke?”

You feel your orgasm building as you work a third finger inside you, rubbing your clit frantically as you imagine it’s Dave on the other end of this conversation. God, you wish. All you’ve wanted since they got married last year was to get him in your bed.

A girl can dream.

DukeSilver09: Not yet, but I think I’m about to get lucky.

“Good for you Duke, fuck her like the good little girl she is.”

You’re vaguely aware of the other men in the chat, some loving this interaction between you, some jealous, some angry, but you don’t care. All you care about is this stranger bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

~*~

Dave

Unbeknownst to you, Dave is leaning against the wall opposite your bedroom, waiting, phone in hand as he continues to watch you. He has headphones in to make sure he can still hear you without alerting suspicion. Dave types out a reply instantly.

DukeSilver09: She’s no angel, trust me, I know she’s filthy. I see the way she fucks me with her eyes at dinner.

Dave watches as you convulse on the bed, fingers working into your wet pussy, the squelching almost audible through the door. But maybe that was just his imagination running wild.

“Oh fuck, yeah? Well make sure to make her pay for being such a slut, sounds like she deserves to be punished.”

He groans aloud at that, and you freeze on the screen, Dave curses under his breath as he clamps his mouth shut.

This was stupid, fuck get out of there.

“Daddy?”

Dave looks down at the screen and sees that the livestream is muted, the sound hadn’t come from his headphones. He looks up and watches in disbelief as you open the door, robe on, mask off. Looking at him with a knowing look that would make even the toughest man flinch.

But Dave’s no ordinary man.

~*~

You

Dave stands there for a moment, frozen in place, but his face is anything but shocked. His one eyebrow is cocked, his plump lips curved up into a smirk, making his cheek dimple.

“Hey there Princess, what’re you doing in there? Got a guy over? You know how your mom feels about you having the door shut if you have visitors.”

“Nope, no-one here but me, Da- Dave.” You falter, already the taboo falling too easily from your lips.

It can’t have been him? Surely not, this is just some fucking weird coincidence, right?

“Then you won’t mind if I come in? Check on those fairy lights?”

“I don’t think-!” You start but Dave has already crowded past you, you suddenly realise he’s only got sweatpants on, his body heat rolls off onto you as you take in the painfully obvious erection straining against his pants.

“Well, well, this is what you’ve been up to.”

Dave purrs, picking up the mask you were just wearing, turning it around in his deft fingertips as he looks at the livestream. He’s just out of camera-shot as he grins at you wickedly.

“Dave please, don’t tell mom.”

“About which bit?”

You give Dave a confused look, breathing becoming laboured as panic sets in.

“What do you mean?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper at this point, and you feel compelled to shut the door behind you.

“What don’t you want me to tell her?” He asks, one long stride and he’s got you backed against the door, his free hand circles your neck, gently, a promise more than a threat, “That you’re whoring yourself out to dirty old men online?”

“Dave please, I can-!”

“Or that you’ve been waiting for me to stuff you full of my fat cock until I spill my load inside you?”

Your brain short circuits as you realise it is him, there’s no doubt now, he’s been watching you for months.

Did he know it was me?

“Dave please, it was all for show, I promise.”

Dave clicks his tongue in disappointment, but his hand tightens around your throat as he uses his thumb to nudge your jaw to the side. He leans in, pressing his rock hard, aching dick against your bare stomach as he rubs his cheek against yours.

“You sure honey? Because I’d be mighty disappointed if that was the truth.”

You moan, the sound escaping you before you can even think to stop it, you roll your hips up against him and wrap your arms around his neck before turning to face him. Your noses press against one another as you look up through your lashes into his hooded, lust-drunk eyes.

“You mean it Daddy?” You breathe as you brush your lips against his, your whole body vibrating with arousal as his breath fans against your skin, foreheads pressed together as you try your hardest to hold back.

“‘Course sweetheart, how could I not? You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“But what about-?” You begin to protest, and whatever you were about to say is lost as Dave’s lips crash into yours.

His free hand drops the mask before pinning your hip to the door. His broad hand sears against your skin as he grinds down into you. You moan into his mouth, giving him access before he even asks, letting him lick into your mouth with a hunger you’ve never known from a partner.

He dominates you, claims your mouth in a ravenous need that has you whimpering as you spread your legs for him, hitching an ankle around his leg, pulling him in closer as you run your fingers through his hair. You tug firmly and the growl he makes almost has you coming right there and then.

“Dave the stream.” You pant as you both come up for air, but a darkness falls over his vision. You already know what he’s going to ask before he says a word.

“You got another mask I can borrow?”

Your stomach flutters as you realise what he’s suggesting. You’re about to fuck Dave for the first time, on live stream for fucks sake. Your viewers are going to fucking love it.

“Stay here.” You breathe against his lips, taking control for a second and your heart flutters as Dave’s eyebrow raises in amusement. You’re filing that reaction away for later.

You bend over, making sure to brush up against Dave’s rock-hard bulge as you do, and pick up your mask, re-seating it before heading back into view of the livestream. The sound of comments firing in the background makes your stomach flutter in anticipation. You rifle under your bed for your box of props.

“Here you go Daddy.” You purr as you prance back to the doorway.

“Fuck.” Dave rasps as he twitches in his pants. He puts the black and gold mask on, smirking down at you as you bite your lip at him.

“Follow my lead, yeah?”

“Sure baby, it’s your show.”

You lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. It’s an oddly intimate act and you almost regret doing it until you see the lazy smile spread across Dave’s lips.

You turn to go back to your stream and before you’re even back in shot you feel the sharp slap of Dave’s palm on your ass and you yelp. You look back with a playful look as you roll your eyes at him.

“Hey there Daddies,” You say with a soft, sing-song lilt to your voice, “Sorry about that, I almost got busted! Daddy came home and I had to pretend to be a good little girl.”

You chuckle giddily as you watch the comments flood back in, all positive, begging for you to continue.

The violent banging on your door startles you and you yelp.

“Luna what the fuck are you doing in there?” Dave roars, loud enough for your viewers to hear and the comments go absolutely wild.

“I’m not dressed please don’t come in!” You feign as much panic as you can, pretending to fumble with the computer controls.

“You got a boy in there? I’ll fucking kill him.” Dave roars as he rips the door open. You stand up and clutch your discarded robe against your chest.

“Please, it’s not what it looks like, please don’t tell mom.” You mimic your terrified tone from earlier but both of you now know it’s just an act.

“What the fuck?”

Dave steps into view and you all but whimper as you see the murderous look in his dark eyes. He looks from you to the computer, and back again. His chest heaves and you take a step back, you’re not sure if you planned to or not but the intensity is more than you expected.

“Please, let’s just talk about this.”  

You plead as he crosses the short distance to grab you by the throat, harder than before and you audibly gasp as he takes off his mask. You watch as his eyes scan the stream, making sure he’s only visible from the neck down.

“You wear these fancy masks to hide your whoring from the world huh? Give me one, I’m not about to get caught fucking you on some sick little porno site.”

You make a show of turning to the camera, lace-covered breasts front and centre as you pretend to grab something from the shelf behind. You turn and tilt up onto your tiptoes to replace the mask on Dave’s face. You pout a little. As much as you know it’s necessary, you want to see him, all of him, when he fucks you.

“Good girl, now,” He growls, shoving past you to sit on the end of the bed, “Convince me not to tell your mom, show me if you’re good enough to keep a secret for.”

He’s a fucking natural, lined up perfectly in shot so that you can sink onto your knees in front of him. The notifications are going wild, the cheesy sound bite of a cash register opening and closing as your fans tip you firing faster than you’ve ever known.

“What if it’s too big, Daddy?”

“You’ll make it fit Princess, I know you will.”

You nod slowly and peel down the waistband of his pants and gasp at the sight of him. He’s uncut, thick, and a nice size. A Goldilocks dick, not too big, not too small. You salivate at the sight of him and look up to see his hungry gaze locked on you.

You pull his foreskin back gently and mewl at the sight of his pre-come smeared over his angry red tip. You lap gently at the mess and hum at the salty, bitter taste of his come.

“Good fucking girl, knew you’d be good at sucking dick, bet you’ve had hundreds of cocks stuffed down your throat.”

“Nuh-uh,” You say loud enough for the microphone to pick up, “Only you Daddy.” His dick twitches wildly at that and he looks down at you in shock, you see the real fear of this being your first-time flash behind his eyes and you subtly shake your head. He narrows his eyes and nods imperceptibly in understanding.

“Fuck, been saving yourself for me Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

You punctuate it with a short, wet suck of his exposed tip and he groans, fisting one hand in your hair, shifting slightly on the bed angling it so that the stream can just see your profile as you suckle on his tip.

“See fellas, this is what you get when you’re nice to her.”

You whimper and feel the slick dripping down your legs as you sink lower onto Dave’s gorgeous cock. It’s so smooth, his foreskin making it a dream to sink down onto. He hisses as your lips and nose press into his pubic hair.

“Good fucking girl.” His voice is ragged, and you look up to see his plush lips parted, veins in his neck bulging. You bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks out as you flick your tongue against his head every time you come back up his shaft.

“She’s got such a fucking pretty little mouth, don’t you think?”

He shifts on the bed again until he’s standing, you have to sit up on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His face is out of shot, and he looks down at you with care in his eyes. He mouths down a “You ok?” At you and you smile, nodding as you take him deep.

“Shit, look at you.”

Dave’s Hand in your hair becomes possessive as he rolls his hips slowly into your mouth, you gag a little and tears spill from your eyes as you try your hardest to keep it together.

“Doing so well for me baby, making Daddy feel so good.”

You whine at the praise and his willingness to call himself daddy. He lets you take his cock for a little longer before he rips you off with a snarl.

“Need to fill that little pussy up, c’mere.”

Dave pulls you up into his arms and kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, tasting himself on you with a moan as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sits down on the edge of the bed once more before turning you in his lap, his cock sliding between your clothed folds as he holds your back flush against his chest. One hand is wrapped around your throat as his other trails down your body to your soaked panties.

“You been saving this for me too?”

He slowly peels them away to the side, exposing your wet heat. You arch your back as he glides two thick fingers through your folds. It feels so much better than you could have imagined. His calloused pads rake through you, teasing at your hole before gliding back up to your clit, rubbing slow, intense circles around your swollen bud.

“Yes Daddy, want you to be the only one, want you inside me. Daddy, please?”

You squirm in his lap, rocking your hips so you coat his length with your slick as it glides through your lips.

“Slow down baby, not going to last if you keep doing that.” He whispers in your ear, chuckling slightly as he nips a warning into your neck. You hum and slow down, but you don’t stop.

“Please Daddy, can’t wait any more, need you.”

It’s only half an act. You’ve dreamt of this for months, desperate to have him. You watch how your mother spurns him, how she hides her phone when he’s around. You know she’s not being good to him.

“As you asked so nicely.”

You’re caught off guard as he notches himself at your core and with one hand on your hip, the other tight around your throat, he drags you down onto his cock.

You cry out in ecstasy as you feel every inch of him pressing into you, every ridge and vein as he forces you down to the base. You’re grateful that you worked yourself open with three fingers earlier or this would have been way too much.

“Look at that baby,” Dave hums against your skin, looking into the camera over your shoulder as he tilts your head down to look at the screen, “Look at how pretty you look all stretched out on my cock.”

You pant heavily as you get used to his girth, it’s blinding. You’ve never had someone fill you just right like this, like you were made to be split open by him. You whine impatiently and a hard slap comes down on your right ass cheek. Dave’s cock twitches up into you as you yelp and mewl at the painful pleasure rocking through you.

“Naughty girl, so eager to get fucked, what would your mother say if she could see you like this?”

Dave taunts you as he moves both hands to your hips, pulling you further back into the bed so he can brace his feet on the sheets, holding you up for the camera to see you suspended above him. You know it’s for show, you know it’s all a fantasy, but in that moment, you lose yourself to Dave.

“Touch yourself baby, need you to milk this fat dick until you’re full of me, y’hear me?”

“Yes Daddy, want you to fill me up, fuck your cum deep into me.”

“Good fucking girl.”

Dave snaps up into you without warning, his pace brutal as he fucks you just right, kissing your g-spot with the head of his cock as you swirl your fingers aggressively around your clit. You feel your release building like a crescendo. The symphony of Dave’s hungry, aggressive grunting as he fucks you harder and harder with every thrust; and the staccato of desperate moans that escape your lips are all you can think about.

You’re about to come as Dave pushes you forward onto your hands and knees, he fuses his hips to yours, not letting you go for a single second as he pushes your head down onto the edge of the bed.

“Fuck yeah, let them see you, how fucking drunk you are on my cock, dirty little slut.”

“Fuck yes, Daddy, fuck me deep, fill me up with your come Daddy.”

The words fall from your lips without prompt or encouragement, you’re coming so hard you can’t keep your eyes open any more, your legs tremble and your arms feel like lead as pleasure rocks through you like no other orgasm you can remember.

Dave keeps fucking you as you whimper and shake from exertion and overstimulation. You let him use you, let him fuck down into you with such force you swear you’ll feel him for weeks. But you don’t care, pleasure ebbs through you like a heartbeat, stopping only as Dave’s hips snap into you one last time as you hear him groan in your ear. He falls against your back, holding you close to him as he releases inside you, pinning you to him as he pants and whines in your ear.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He rubs his nose along the column of your neck and suckles your earlobe into his mouth.

“All for you Daddy.”

You eventually ease off of his lap and turn the stream off without your usual sign-off. You don’t give a single shit about your viewers right now, all you can think about is Dave and the blissed-out look on his face as he watches you, propped up against your headboard.

“So, that was something else.”

You say with a giggle and the smile that spreads across his face has butterflies exploding in your chest. The love, the affection there is something more than just some kinky fantasy.

“Yeah,” He wheezes as he rocks up onto his feet and scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, “Let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

His whole demeanour has changed, gone is the dominant Dave who just fucked you within an inch of your life, right here the Dave you know so well. Caring, soft, yet still so fucking hot.

“Ok.” You mumble into his chest as you flop against him.

~*~

Hours later and your mom still isn’t home, Dave still hasn’t left your bed.

“We don’t have to do this again y’know.”

You eventually say what you’ve been trying to bring up for hours. You’re snuggled into Dave’s chest, under your freshly made sheets, watching some shit on Netflix. He sits up immediately, pulling you up to sit next to him.

“Is that what you want?”

There’s a vulnerability on Dave’s face that makes your heart clench, a myriad of emotions floods through your system. You dip your head, avoiding those soft brown eyes that you adore.

“No, I just, you’re married to my mom.”

Dave’s calloused hand cups your cheek tilting your head up to look at him.

“And where do you think she is tonight? Where she’s been the last six weekends in a row?”

Dave’s eyes are deadly serious, there’s an edge to his tone that arouses you, it’s possessive, frustrated, but most of all passionate.

“Do you want to keep, uh, seeing each other?” You ask as your eyes drop to his lips and you can’t imagine not kissing them again, not feeling them on your skin.

“Yes.”

Dave’s answer shocks you, not for his admission but for how firmly he says it, how much passion and surety he can pack into a single syllable.

“Good.”

You respond in turn before pulling Dave down on top of you, crashing his lips into yours as his hips slot between yours like you were made for one another.

What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

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[chaotic-mystery]

and what if I said I have Stepdad!Javi P cooking on low on the backburner...

[afictionaladventure16]

Could you do meeting stepdad! Pedro for the first time? Please and thank you!😭💗

To Build a Home (Pedro Pascal x Teen!Reader)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

A/N: I feel like this one was too short but I've been having writers block and this is the best I could do! I hope you enjoy it!! <3

Word Count: 2,880

Summary: Your mother decides it is time for you to meet her boyfriend of six months, you are defensive at first, but you think you could get used to the idea of having this one around more often.

This is fine. 

Everything about this situation is okay. 

No need to panic. You thought to yourself. Watching your mother frantically cook in the kitchen as if her life depended on it. You have never seen your mother this frantic since the day your grandmother decided to do a surprise visit. 

“Mom?” you quietly said, walking around the counter. 

“Honey, can you grab me some garlic, it should be next to the bananas… bananas… shit! I forgot to make dessert!” She groaned to herself as she handled the hot pan in front of her. 

You sighed, grabbing the garlic and setting it down on the counter beside her, “Mom,” you said a little louder. 

“What, honey?” She quickly gave you a glance before taking notice of the garlic you had placed on the counter. She grabbed it, taking it over to the cutting board. 

“Can you look at me for a moment?” You asked desperately. 

She sighed, putting down everything before turning to give you her full attention. “Si, Cariño?” 

“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.” You regretted the words as soon as they had left your mother, seeing the reaction on your mother's face. How her eyes watered and her mouth frowned. 

“But, Cariño, you told me you were ready. We had a whole discussion– I don’t understand.” 

You sighed, “I know, I–I think I’m nervous ‘s all.” 

“Nervous? Sweetie, how do you think we feel?” You shrugged, “Pedro has been messaging me all week about how he wants to cancel because he’s nervous.” She sighed, “Honey, you’re not the only one that is feeling this way.” 

“So, we should cancel?” 

She shook her head, “It’s time for you to meet Pedro.” You feared that she would say that. It only meant one thing. One thing you truly feared, she was deeply in love with him. That what they had was something serious and it could lead to them becoming more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. It meant that you would now have to share your mother with someone and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. 

Especially with how the last time ended. You still had nightmares from when your father was around, images in your head that never left. What if Pedro turned out to be just like your father? 

“Okay,” you felt defeated. Your mother was a person who didn’t budge. Once she had made a decision it was final. 

“Now you either help me cook or you get out of my kitchen,” she stated, turning her body to face the counter once more to busy herself with the garlic in front of her. 

For the longest, it had always been you and your mother. Your father had no visitation rights since you were eight, so for the past five years, you and your mother picked up the pieces and started a new life. A better life. 

Your mother focused mainly on work in the filming industry and eventually, she was able to afford a nice house for the two of you. That’s what it was, just the two of you. You never imagined that one day, it could potentially be three of you. That your mother would one day want to find love again. 

“Do you love him?” You hesitantly asked. 

Your mother stopped everything, letting out a deep sigh, “I’m afraid to answer that question,” she admitted. 

You were afraid she would dodge that question, but also you were sad that she had. You had hoped that your mother wouldn’t tip-toe around the subject with you. Maybe she could be honest with you about a topic that wasn’t common in this household. 

“Be honest with me,” you reassured. “Do you love him?” 

“Love is a strong word,” she whispered. 

“And your daughter meeting him is a big step.” 

“Yes,” she admitted. “I do love him.” 

You gave her a small nod, “Then that’s enough for me.” 

She gave you a smile before walking around the counter to pull you in for a hug, “Thank you.” 

“But this doesn’t mean that I’m not going to give him a hard time, I still don’t trust the man.” You grabbed one of the potatoes that were on the counter, grabbed the peeler, and made your way over to the trash can. “Don’t expect me to call him dad,” you said jokingly, referencing to the movie Stepbrothers. 

Your mother giggled, “I don’t expect that at all from you, amor,” she smiled. 

The hour quickly passed, and you anxiously sat on the couch, your eyes not peeling away from the clock on the wall. Your foot bounced against the wooden floors, creating a gentle but persistent thud. The sound echoed throughout the room and for a moment you were glad your mother was busy in the kitchen, distracting herself with the neatness of the dining room and kitchen and if she had enough time to whip up something quick for dessert. You could hear her muttering to herself about whether Pedro would enjoy a bar of chocolate for dessert or if that was stupid. 

It was any second that Pedro would walk through those doors and your life would change for either the worst or the best. You didn’t know which and you were afraid to find out. 

“Sweetie, are you going to wear that?” Your mom asked as she walked into the living room.

You looked down to see what you were wearing, it was what you had worn to school, a plain tee, flannel, and some jeans. It was casual wear for you, “Um, yes?” She raised her eyebrows, “would you like for me to change?” 

She sighed, “Would it be fucked up for me to say yes?” 

“Kind of, I mean, if he really liked me he wouldn’t care what I wore right? But, on the other hand, I can change to make you feel less anxious.” 

Your mother stood there for a second, thinking about what you had just said. Giving you a small nod, “Don’t change,” she stated. 

You smiled, knowing you had won, “Alright.” 

Your mother's head whipped towards the door at the sound of the doorbell, “Oh my god, that’s him.” She let out a deep breath before looking over at you, “is it too late to cancel?” 

“Hey, I tried earlier but you said it was too late.” 

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, “What the fuck am I doing? I mean, are we even ready for something like this?” 

You sighed, getting up from the couch, “Ama, I think you’ve been ready for a while, you’ve just been scared, but I’m no longer a little girl, Mom. You deserve happiness.” 

She gave you a soft smile, placing a hand on your cheek, “Cuando creciste?” (When did you grow up)

“Cuando no estabas mirando,” you smiled. (When you weren’t looking) 

“Alright, let’s do this,” she whispered. You trailed behind her as she walked towards the door. You stood back, watching as your mother opened the door. She deserved happiness, no matter what. Even at the cost of yours. She deserved it. 

After everything she had been through to protect you, it was the least you could give her. You saw the way she had been these past few months, the after-dates smile, and how she grinned from ear to ear the day after. He made her happy and it scared you, but you couldn’t tell your mother that. You couldn’t ruin it because somehow seeing her so happy made you happy, even if you were weary about the man who was causing it. 

Your mother's voice was muffled as she greeted Pedro on the other side of the door. Meeting him meant a lot of things, it meant that it was no longer the two of you on adventures, that he would more than likely tag along. It meant that eventually, you would have to get used to your mom always being with him. He could be here for breakfast some days and you know what that meant. He could be here for dinners on other days and it also meant expressing boundaries. 

She deserved this happiness. 

“Y/N,” your mother called for you as she stepped aside to let Pedro in. There he was, with a nervous smile playing on his lips and a bouquet of flowers in his hands that you knew was for your mother. “I’d like for you to meet my daughter, Pedro.” 

He let out a nervous laugh, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, your mother speaks so much about you.” He held out his free hand for you to shake, and you gently shook his hand. 

“Nice to meet you too,” you gave him a hesitant smile. 

“Oh! I got you these, your mother said you loved sunflowers and well,” he nervously chuckled, “I hope you like ‘em.” 

You gave him a surprised look, glancing at your mom who grinned from ear to ear, “For me?” He gave you a nod, “T–thank you, I–I don’t know what to say!” Pedro handed you the bouquet that was beautifully displayed sunflowers with a few purple flowers here and there and baby’s breath surrounding them. “They’re beautiful, thank you, Pedro!” 

Pedro grinned from ear to ear, he relaxed a little. He had been nervous all day about handing you the flowers, afraid that you’d reject them. Maybe this dinner wouldn’t be so bad and maybe he could bond with you after all. He knew some things about you from what your mother had said, but it was only some things. He did know the struggles you and your mother had gone through, knowing very well that this transition wasn’t going to be easy for you. Pedro is determined to try his best to get you to trust him because all he wants is to be a positive influence in your life, it was the way he was. His heart broke to hear what you had been through at such a young age and he wished there was something he could do. Something he could do for you and your mother. 

“Well, dinner is ready,” your mother states, “let me show you to the dining room.” 

“I-I’m gonna put these away,” you say as you walk towards the kitchen. You set the flowers on the counter, staring at them for a second. This was the first time anyone had gotten you flowers. Your first time getting flowers were supposed to be meaningful. A moment you’d remember forever and for a second you were afraid he had just ruined that. For just a second and it was gone, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the bouquet. “Don’t,” you whispered to yourself. The sound of your mother's laughter coming from the other room. This all felt too good, it would all soon come tumbling down and you knew that, but you did not know if you could handle it. 

You took in a deep breath before joining your mother and Pedro in the dining room. You sat across from Pedro at the table, “smells good,” you commented as you began piling food on your plate. 

“Thanks, mija,” your mom smiled. 

“So, Y/N, your mother tells me you are in the drama club at school?” You gave him a nod. 

“She’s thinking about starting auditions for actual films soon, right, mija?” 

You shrugged, “It’s still a big maybe.” 

“For film? I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try.” 

“Maybe Pedro could give you some pointers,” your mother suggested. 

You cleared your throat, “So, how many siblings do you have?” 

“Y/N,” your mother warned. 

Pedro chuckled, “It’s okay, Yesenia.” For a moment you forgot your mother had a first name, you were so used to just calling her mom. “I have three siblings.” 

“Pedro, you don’t have to answer her questions, she does thi-” 

“How many sisters and how many brothers?” You asked. 

“Two sisters, one brother.” 

You nod, “Please stop interrogating him,” your mother pleaded. 

You gave her a small glare before looking over at Pedro, “Where are you from?” 

“Chile,” Pedro smiled. He found this amusing and cute. You were protective over your mother and he loved that you were. “Next question?” 

“When did you move here?” 

“That’s a long story.” 

“I have all night, it’s a weekend.” 

“Y/N,” your mother warned. 

Pedro chuckled, “It’s okay.” He looked back over at you, “Long story short, my family moved here when I was very little but we had to go back when I was a little older when I was old enough I moved back on my own to pursue acting.” He gave you the cliff notes of his life, leaving out the personal details that were still hard for him to talk about, but enough to keep you satisfied. Your mother gave Pedro a sincere smile and he smiled back. She knew the longer version of the story and she was grateful he was answering your questions to his best ability. “Next question?” he asked. 

“Do you want more kids?” 

Your mother rolled her eyes, “No,” he chuckled.

“No?” 

“Yes, he said no and I don’t want more kids either, Y/N,” your mother stated.

“Why not?” you directed the question towards Pedro.

“Because of my schedule mostly, but I also never saw myself having kids. I’m already almost fifty and I don’t think it’s fair on the kid to have a parent that old, you know?” 

“Plus, your mother can’t have any more kids and if she could she wouldn’t because childbirth is no joke.” 

You rolled your eyes this time, “Alright, last question.” 

“Hit me with it,” Pedro stated. 

“What are your intentions with my mother?” 

“Y/N!” your mother warned.

Pedro chuckled, “I love your mother and I love spending time with her and right now I would like to get to know you because I know you mean the world to her. I know you both have…” Pedro hesitated, “I don’t intend on hurting your mother in any way. I see myself spending a lot more time with her and hopefully, one day, growing old with her.” 

You watched as his eyes never left your mother, the way they idolized her as if she were the only thing that mattered. He really loved her and you could see it in him, but could you trust him? You didn’t know. It was hard to know. You barely had any trust, to begin with. 

You remained quiet the rest of the dinner, listening to the two of them laugh as they joked around and told stories about some of their dates or their time together on set. He was an actor, he’d be on the road a lot and your mother knew that yet she was okay with it. She was okay with everything about him. 

Your mother got up to answer a phone call, leaving the two of you alone. 

You pushed your food around with your fork, “You okay?” 

You glanced up at Pedro, his eyes showing concern, how you hated that they did that. “Yeah.” 

He sighed, placing his fork down, “You don’t have to like me.” 

“You got me flowers,” you whispered. 

“Your mother kept mentioning how you loved sunflowers, and it felt like the right thing to do.” 

“No one has ever gotten me flowers,” you stated. 

Pedro sighed, “I’m sorry if I stepped over the line or–” 

“No, you didn’t… just taken back ‘s all.” 

He gave you a small nod, “Do you like them?” 

“Love them,” you corrected. Giving him a small smile, he smiled back. “I just… I always kind of dreamt that my dad would be the first person to get me flowers, you know?” 

He nodded, “I’m sorry, I probably should’ve–” 

“It’s okay,” you reassured. 

He sighed, “I’m not him, you know.” You stayed quiet. “I know, you don’t trust me because of him, but I am not him and I’m willing to give you all the time you need in order for you to allow me in your life. I love your mother, Y/N and I hope that if you get to know me and I get to know you… we could develop a sort of bond… would that be okay?” 

There was a little voice inside your head that was screaming yes, she was shouting it so loud that it gave you a headache. Yet, your mouth never moved, seconds passed and you sat there wondering if it would be okay. The little voice argued with the bigger one. One was more naive than the other and one was more hurt than the other. 

Your mother stepped back into the dining room, “I was thinking while on the call, maybe the two of you should hang out together sometime soon? Without me there, get to know each other you know?” 

Pedro smiled, “Sounds good to me, what do you think, Y/N?”

You shrugged before giving your mother a nod. 

She clapped in excitement, “I’ll plan it out for you guys! It’ll be great!” Would that be okay? His voice trailed inside yours for the remainder of the dinner. You wanted it to be okay, but you couldn’t give him an answer, not just yet anyway.

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @Sophieelizabeth01  @tracysnook  @cilliansangel  @change-the-world-someday  @graciegoeskrazy @oggystine93 @t-stark35 @twkobii @picklehat3r @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @white-wolf-buckaroo @steadydragongalaxy @rooting4theantihero @soupinasock @Ilovehotdadsandshit @dzaga890 @marantha @emmasauger @marysucks-blog @pcotato @scrappybear89 @dlwrish @what-ever-man213 @boiohboii @drowning-in-paragraphs @stoneredsworld @xmurph7 @sleepylunarwolf @glossy01 @aot-task141-lover @uwiuwi

[not-a-unique-snowflake-blog]

I made this GIFt for my emotional support Joelkemon NightWalks Joel😍♥️ @toxicanonymity could you pls show it to him in the brothel?🙏 I tried to capture his BDE and I hope he likes it!🍆🧎🏼‍♀️😵‍💫

And thank you for the new nightwalks coded Ghostface!🔪😮‍💨 Love you!💕💖💗

[toxicfics]

new stepdad!Joel: 🔥 tinder

Summary: After everything that happened on Thanksgiving Day, Joel tries unsuccessfully to pull back. Joel messes up and is desperate for you to forgive him. You have a date with Jacques and Joel tries to interfere.

Tinder

Stepdad Master List

tagging here since i'm shadowbanned on main. All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst

[toxicanonymity]

ring doorbell 🚪

5400 words, stepdad!Joel x f!reader

stepdad master

Summary: Joel holds it together at a Christmas party, only to show up at your apartment later. WARNINGS: I8+ stepcest, toxic fluff, f masturbation, party-typical alcohol, angst, reader dacryphilia, grinding, unsafe P in V INTERCOURSE FINALLY ❤️‍🔥 (he's clean, I tested him myself), pulling out (this time), big mess of cum. A/N: dedicated to @gracieispunk 🤍 (bc he's always been her #1) and all of stepdad's fans ✊💦

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Note: not a big deal but white elephant gift /party explanation if you don't know

This is the wk before Xmas week like 12/16/23 yes the whole fic is mildly in the future lmao the exorcist comes out this October.

-------

You still haven't snapchatted Joel back. After he sends nothing one day, you think about it a lot. You want to send him your own, but you can't decide what to send. You never used to overthink it, but after all this, whatever you send feels like a big deal. The next day, you're lounging on your bed thinking about it when you get a notification.  

[Snapchat: J. has shared a photo with you] 

You've gotten yourself off to Joel's snaps so many times  that as soon as you get the notification, you're throbbing.  You’re also relieved–after going a whole day with nothing from him, you were getting anxious.  It's a rainy day and you're doing nothing, so you get out your silicone Joel but it’s dead.  You change the batteries, silently thanking Joel for his foresight, and fold a towel under you.  Before you open his Snapchat, you get yourself close with nothing but your imagination. 

You imagine him showing up at your door, eyelids red, cheeks still wet with tears, unable to speak he's so desperate for you. Latching onto your lips as he barges into your apartment, hands cradling your head, pulling your face into his. Kissing you like he's starving.  Taking off each other's clothes on the way to your room without a single word spoken until he's on your bed and rasps "I fuckin' need you right now" as he gets between your legs. Tangling your fingers in his hair as his bare chest hovers over yours and his cock hangs heavily onto your mound until he reaches down and puts it where you need it.  His lips on yours again. His tongue pushing into your mouth as he pushes his cock into you.  Your legs wrapping around him as your body swallows his length. Joel pounding into you, moaning that moan you've heard so many times now, his skin against yours, thrusting into you, approaching that moment where he'll give you the biggest load you could imagine. 

At this point, you open the snap, and it's not what you expect. 

Photo: Close-up selfie of his face and bare shoulders. His shoulders are so muscular and tan that it takes you a moment to realize his head is resting on your pillow, in your room (at their house). His eyes are large and his brow is furrowed. He looks tired. Caption: Hope this is okay.  

A lewd snap could follow any minute, but the first one makes you cum.  Just the sight of his face, the face that would be right up against yours with that big, hard, beautiful cock finally inside you. Fuck. You keep staring at his face the whole time you cum.  You almost kiss your fucking phone.  This has gotten that out of hand.  You leave it on read.  It's sweet how he's being careful, almost timid.  But at the same time, bold to go into your room.  Hope this is ok.  You fall asleep, and when you wake up, there's another photo from him, just four minutes earlier. 

Photo (82 min after the first one): Close-up selfie on his side, hair is tousled. Arm looking huge. Eyes weak. Hugging one of your pillows.  The corner is covering his chin and mouth. Caption: Good nap.  

He just wanted to take a nap in your room? Your heart flutters, which is a little uncomfortable, like it's easier when he's just nasty. But you can't deny you like this sweet side of him. He doesn't know it, but you basically just took a nap together.

—------

The next morning, Joel sends another Snapchat.

Video: He's in your bed again, laying on his side shirtless with strong shoulders, muscle cleavage, and sleepy eyes as if he slept there all night. His voice is hushed. "Mornin', beautiful” (he yawns) “So about tonight . . .I'm not gonna make it weird, ok? I'll act normal."

Video (less than a minute later): He's in the same position but holding his phone further out and at an angle and your covers are pulled down so you can see a lot more of his torso. He says, "Hope you're still comin'." 

Later that day

Photo: Mirror selfie in a red and white fair isle sweater and a mostly straight face but his eyes are a little sad. Caption: See? Normal. 

There's a family Christmas party, and you're anxious despite Joel's assurances. Can you act normal? You haven't tried in person since that night with Jacques. If Joel is finally as willing as he seems, for some reason, that makes you nervous. For months now, you've been trying to break him down, often thinking it might never happen. Even with his dick pressed right up against your leggings on Thanksgiving, it felt far away. Now after weeks of no physical contact, it feels closer than ever. And as much as you wanna make your move on Mr. Cant-believe-he-ever-turned-you-down, you're unexpectedly anxious. 

—------

When you get to your cousin's house, both Joel’s SUV and your Mom's car are there.  A small mob greets you at the door.  One of your aunts takes your white elephant gift off your hands. Joel is nearby, quietly sipping a drink.  Looking over another aunt's shoulder as she hugs you, you can see how the sweater hugs Joel's biceps and has polar bears in the pattern.  Does he have to be so cute? As you finish hugging them hello, Joel puts down his drink and tacks himself onto the end of the hug train. 

He looks you in the eye with a subtle smile – sad but hopeful.  He lifts both his arms, meaning this is a full hug and your arms will go around his waist. As you get closer, his scent hits you and you have to physically stop your eyes from closing in pleasure as you inhale through your nose. When you first touch, there's a literal spark. Static electricity. You gasp and he chuckles. Not to be deterred, his scruff brushes your cheek as his big arms wrap around you and squeeze.  This brief moment might be the coziest you've felt all winter. You loosely embrace his waist, and when you pull back, he lets you go. You share a loaded glance, his eyes falling to your mouth as he wets his lips. An aunt comes to beckon you to the kitchen. 

When you glance back over your shoulder, Joel adjusts his glasses and awkwardly hovers near the door. He’s wearing khakis, and his sweater is bunched up above his ass.  Your aunt turns to say something to you and you whip your head back around and say "sorry."  

In the kitchen, your Mom says she feels like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “Sorry I didn’t get to meet Jacques. Joel said I just missed him.”  Joel comes and stands in the door frame, drinking out of his solo cup. 

“That was weeks ago,” you say, not feigning warmth.  

She asks if Jacques is still in the picture, and you shake your head no.  When you glance at Joel, he looks about as satisfied as you expect. He helps change the subject by asking your uncle about golf.  

One of the kids yells from the other room, "Uncle Joel! play Mario Kart with us!" And Joel leaves.

You overhear Joel say, "No cryin' when I beat ya this time." 

Followed by an outraged, "YOU DIDN'T BEAT ME!"

Then Joel says, "Oww!" 

—------

About an hour and a half later, you go outside alone to the deck for some air. The yard is dark. There's a trampoline and a treehouse. You’re leaning back against the wood railing, facing the house.  A lot of the adults are drunk now and the kids are being put to bed.  You want to leave, but the white elephant exchange hasn’t happened and you don’t need everyone asking after you, wondering what happened, whether you’re okay.  You’d rather serve the time at the party. Preferably without being social.

You figure no one will notice if you go up into the treehouse meanwhile. You climb up and use your phone light. There’s a lantern up there.  You turn it on.  There are papers scattered on the floor with crayon drawings of monsters and people including a stick figure with what appears to be a huge dick pointing straight toward the ground and he's urinating on a crowd of smaller stick people.  On another sheet, there’s a snowman with stick people for arms and they don’t look happy. 

The treehouse smells like cedar chips and melted crayons. You can hear the murmur of the party which grows louder as someone opens the door. You sit and scroll your phone, confident no one saw you go up there. You think about snapchatting or texting Joel but wouldn’t want anyone to see it if he’s too drunk to be discreet. 

—--

A twig snaps in the yard.  A few seconds later, the ladder to the treehouse shakes under weighty footsteps and Joel appears in the little door frame. 

"Thought I might find ya here." Fair enough–you weren’t anywhere else. He seems only a little tipsy. "It's almost white elephant time."

You look at each other in silence. His hair is messy. He’s so hot. You can't help but smile. He stays there in the doorframe with his big hands gripping the top of the ladder. 

You break the silence with crude teasing about how he stopped sending you lewd snaps. "What happened yesterday, you didn't nut?" 

He chuckles and looks down shyly.  "Takin'' a break, I guess.  And, uh. Wasn't sure you wanted that stuff.” He looks at you again. “Cause you never reply, so." It doesn’t sound like a complaint, it just sounds a little sad. “Guess I got in my head.”

You nod in understanding then rest your head against the wall again. “Guess I didn’t know what to say.”  

He asks, "But you like it?"

You raise your eyebrows, impressed, and slowly nod.  You say, "I guess practice makes perfect, 'cause damn." You take a deep breath and spread your legs, a symbolic gesture since you're wearing pants. 

He groans softly, making you tingle.  "Christ . .Don't get me hard while I'm on this fuckin' ladder." 

You reach forward and extend your hand to bring him in and out of view of the door. His hand engulfs yours for balance, but he holds his own weight as he crouches into the small structure. Unable to stand, he gets down on his hands and knees and looks around and asks,"Think this thing is stable?" 

"You're the expert." 

He laughs, then it fades and you both seem to realize he's on all fours between your legs. He clears his throat and sits back on his heels. He looks at his watch. 

"Do you, uh, wanna talk? We've got a minute." 

You shake your head. 

"I mean, we prolly should," he says softly,  then clenches his jaw and his eyes seem to weaken when you break eye contact. Ugh, he's so hot and pitiful. You rise to your knees and knee-walk toward him. He lowers his voice, "But we don't have to talk . . .right now." When you've closed the short distance, you watch his eyes glisten and smell the egg nog on his breath. “Maybe later,” he says even softer.  He swallows then cups your face in his hand and looks at your mouth.

After a final glance to your eyes, Joel softly presses his lips into yours and you meet him with the same softness. It makes you lightheaded.  You’ve never kissed each other tenderly before, but it turns you on just as much as if he had ravished you. Because it’s real. He’s really into this, and he’s stayed into it for weeks without taking out any of his self loathing on you, IF he even still hates himself for this. 

Joel's tongue brushes your lips, then you hear the sliding door to the house open in the distance. Your uncle yells "JOEL???" and you pull away.  Joel pulls you back in for a few seconds with one hand behind your ear and another hand on your ass. His khakis press into your jeans and your heart jumps when you feel his cock begin to harden. 

"JOEL! YOU FIND HER?"

You pull away again. He takes a deep breath, looks you over, and adjusts himself as he turns away. The uncle goes back inside.  Joel exits the treehouse first then helps you down the ladder.  As you brush off your knees and butt, he says, "shoulda told me you were comin' out here." 

“Why?” you ask and he brushes himself off as well. 

He hesitates and his face falls.  “I dunno.”  His eyes look more like his sad videos, like his cool facade is cracking.  “I was lookin’ for ya.”  His Adams Apple catches your eye as he swallows.  He puts his massive hand on your back for a moment, ushering you toward the house. 

—---

Your Mom gets too drunk and goes to sleep in a guest bedroom halfway through the white elephant game. Not the first time this has happened. 

You're in a chair and Joel is sitting across the room on a sofa, manspreading. He rests his hand on his inner thigh and your breath hitches. You cross your legs, clench your thighs, and try not to stare, but you feel him looking at you from time to time.

Your cousin’s husband Barry opens the gift you brought.  It’s a sweatshirt that says Cutie. He holds it up to himself and spins around for laughs. Joel glowers. Joel steals it when it's his turn and smiles when everyone laughs. No one steals it from Joel. At the end of the game, you hug everyone goodbye. Your hug with Joel is brief. 

—----

In the middle of the night, your phone wakes you up with a Ring doorbell alert. It’s Joel. He’s wearing the stupid cutie sweatshirt. He adjusts his glasses. He rakes his hand into his hair and looks around in a way that makes you wonder if he might regret coming. You lie there for a minute or two watching the Ring feed, but he just stands there waiting.  He braces his arm on the doorframe. His biceps stretch the sleeves.  You turn your lamp on the dimmest setting and get out of bed. 

You open the front door silently and he steps back as you open it.  His eyes are a little red.  He looks dead serious.  He puts his hand back on the doorframe and the sweatshirt rides up enough to expose a sliver of skin.  His Adam's Apple bobs and he asks hoarsely, “can I come in?”

You look around outside then step back and let him in. 

“I can’t sleep,” he says as he walks into your dark kitchen.  He shakes his head. “can’t sleep after seein’ you.”  His eyes glisten. “Can we talk?” 

You feel your heart rate rising and wonder if he can tell how nervous you are. You’d prefer to break the tension physically, but apparently he has something to say and you’re gonna have to hear it sooner or later.  You turn and walk into your bedroom.  You stack pillows and lie down face up.  If he's not willing to get on your bed at this point, you're not sure if you wanna hear what he has to say after all. 

At first, he stands at the foot of the bed with his hands behind his head, elbows bent forward in distress. Your eyes drift to his exposed happy trail and the way his joggers hug his groin.  “I dunno what the hell’s wrong with me.” He looks toward your window and chokes back tears. Then he kneels on your bed. “You’re never gonna know how sorry I am.” 

“Joel, I know,” you say softly. “C’mere.” You offer space next to you. Instead, he gets between your legs and your heart skips a beat. He lies face-down, with his feet hanging off the bed. His armpits rest on your upper thighs with his elbows and forearms on either side of your hips and torso.  It turns you on of course, yet he doesn't seem to be making a move sexually. 

“I am so, so sorry,” he says. 

“I know,” you say again. “We can move on. I don't wanna keep talk–”

“But,” he says, then pauses and swallows.  His eyes are big and watery.  “I dunno if you get it. How sorry I am.” a tear rolls down his cheek. He wipes it and takes his glasses off.  You reach out your hand to take them and put them on your nightstand. He whispers, “thanks,” as he dabs his eyes with his fingers which only sends the tears to his cheeks.  

“I know you’re sorry, Joel, I get it.” 

“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t think you get-” He puts his face down on you for a second like he’s dabbing his cheeks on your PJs, then he lifts his head again. While choking back tears, he blurts out, “I’m SO fucked up over you." He blinks and looks away and another tear escapes his eye. "can't even fuckin' sleep except in your bed." He buries his face in your thin cotton PJs.

Now you’re turned all the way on. You take a deep breath as your ache for him deepens.  When you don’t respond, he whispers, “I’m sorry,” then puts the other side of his face down on you, his mouth below your belly button. His tears are dampening your PJs. “I dunno why I’m here,” he mumbles into the bottom hem of your tank top.  Your hips lift into his upper chest once, as though adjusting your position.  He ignores it and continues, “FUCK, i’ve been tryin’ to give ya time.” He looks up at you. “Tried to act normal tonight.” He shakes his head and his brow furrows.

He presses his eyes into your tank top one by one to dry them without using his hands.  “Then i show up in the middle of the fuckin’ night,” he laughs softly at how pathetic this is. It’s taking all your restraint not to rock your hips into him. You’re wet, so wet. 

—-

“Stop. Just c’mere,” you say quietly and open your arms. You lift your hips again. He looks up at you and the distress on his face dissolves.  As he crawls up your body, his big, sweet eyes begin to darken.  He puts his forearms down on the bed on either side of your chest and your eyes connect for a moment. Your lips part.

“You’re so. . .fuck,” he sighs, then presses his lips into yours. Your mouth warmly accepts him. His lips move against yours and he licks into your mouth slowly at first, like he’s savoring every brush of his tongue against yours. Then it becomes needy at a sensual rhythm. 

With your mouths still connected, he shifts his body. The warm bulge in his joggers meets your clothed heat, and then, oh god,  his cock hardens against you.  He softly hums, "mmm" as your mouths move together and he swells harder against you. You're throbbing, aching.  For a second, you wonder if you're having a wet dream (you're not).

There's a different electricity between you now. You can both feel it – He breaks away for a moment and looks at you, breathing heavily, and you can see it in his eyes. He's not crying anymore.  He looks at peace.  He rests his weight on one arm, and his opposite hand slides onto your breast, slowly palming it as his lips move with yours and his growing arousal digs into you. It’s the first time you’ve had his whole body against yours. And fuck, he feels good. It’s the first time you’ve been on a bed together.  That one time on your couch, he said it was dangerous being alone.  This time, he's not stopping, not even slowing down.

He didn’t regret it last time you hooked up, but now there’s a different buzz inside you now. If he ends up regretting it this time, you could get hurt. His rejection never deterred you before, but this time, you feel like it could crush you. You're not even sure why, but you have to somehow acknowledge it before he puts his head between your legs, or whatever he has in mind. 

“You’re sure you wanna. . . do stuff,” you begrudgingly say and inwardly shame yourself for the tremble in your voice. 

“I’m so fuckin’ sure, sweetheart.” 

—--

That's all you need, because you can feel it in his body, too. There’s no part of him that doesn’t want you. Your mouths embrace again and only come apart for heavy breaths and moans as your hips and lips move in rhythm.  His cock grows even stiffer and his hand moves from your breast, down your side. His hands are so big and masculine, but gentle. There’s nothing hesitant about his movements. He grabs your thigh, and you bend your knee. He hikes up your leg and pushes himself harder against you where it counts.   

He slides his hand down your thigh and into your soft sleep shorts, his fingers getting closer and closer to the pool of desire that's begging for him. When his fingertips reach your cunt, you arch your back and whine, pulling your lips away as your head tilts up toward the ceiling. His mouth comes to your breast and dampens your cotton tank top as he tongues your nipple through it. 

"Fuck," you say between heavy breaths.  You've never wanted anyone–or anything–so bad in your life. It's a need. 

You run your hands over his hulking back, feeling the muscles flex on either side of his spine, and curl your fingers under the hem of his sweatshirt.  He takes it off in a flash, his white t-shirt coming with it. He takes off your tank top, then his lips return to yours, his cock grinds into you, and you sigh.  

He breaks the kiss and pauses. His tan shoulders look huge the way he's hovering there over you. 

His voice is weak and hoarse. "Don't want ya to think I came here just to–"

"Shhhh," your hips lift and you moan at his hardness. 

"Ohhh, God," he rolls his hips into yours and sighs your name. He dips his head and noses your neck, then murmurs into your skin, "didn't come here to fuck ya, baby."  His scruff brushes your cheek on his way to look at you again. 

"I know," you say.  God, you need him so bad. 

"Okay," he whispers, then covers your mouth with his again, kissing you hungrily. 

Your lips break away, then you meet his eyes and tell him, "but that's what you're gonna do."

Joel reads your eyes for a moment, breathing heavily.  Then he nods silently and a surge of arousal runs through you.  "Yeah," he nods again. "I am."   

You pull him down so his bare chest is against yours. He kisses you hard with a little bit of tooth, making your lips buzz and your nipples harden against him. He sucks your neck, and his rock-hard cock presses against your clit rhythmically. You throb violently.  Then he whispers in your ear, "'m'gonna fuck ya, sweetheart," drawing a moan from you. 

"Now," you beg. You lift your shoulder blades off the bed, pressing him up with your breasts and stomach.  You reach around to his back and hook your thumbs into the waistband of his joggers. 

"Yeah," he breathes.  You tug down his joggers. He kicks out of them and you observe the massive tent in his boxers with a pang of need from your core through your heart.  He urgently pulls off your sleep shorts, then says "fuck," and takes his boxers off, too. 

You take a deep breath as you stroke your clit and spread yourself open for him. He moans softly at the sight of your fingers at your glistening cunt. He wets his lips as he reaches between your legs. His hand replaces yours, and he sharply inhales.  He spreads your slick around your folds and gently rubs your clit. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

He gets in position and hikes up your leg again. His head falls, putting his messy head of hair in your view.  He watches himself align his cock with your entrance, and your breath hitches at the first touch of the smooth head of his cock.  He begins to push inside with a moan, opening you up with his swollen tip.  Your clit twitches. His hips push forward, giving you more of him, and his mouth falls open as he watches it happen.  You both moan as his cock parts your insides. It’s happening smoothly, without effort, and the stretch is delicious.

Joel pries his gaze away from where your bodies are joined. He locks eyes with you, then plunges to the hilt and shudders as he bottoms out. God, the way his cock fills you up. His eyes glisten and his face looks like he’s in pain, but he’s not.  You catch yourself holding your breath, and you exhale with a whimper. Joel stays all the way inside with his swollen balls against you and closes his eyes, his chest expanding with air. “Jesus, fuck,” he whispers. His chest is heaving.  He opens his eyes and tries to speak. “You feel – god damn. . . you're. . .(a vocal sigh). . you–" 

You cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. He twitches inside you and you both moan. 

After a moment, he slowly pulls his hips back, then pushes in again. "Mmmm" he moans into your mouth. All the times you’ve imagined this, you never counted on the contact of your bodies and faces together.  You could never have dreamed how full you’d feel. Even after having him in your hand. In your mouth. This feeling is new for you. It’s like he’s shaped just for you. He pulls back, then bottoms out again and groans against your cheek. How is it already the best you’ve ever had? He retreats, then slides all the way in with a punch of his cock as he bottoms out. 

"That okay?" he asks like he doesn't wanna hurt you. 

You nod urgently, "Give it to me."

He thrusts into you harder, working up to about once per second, at first. Breathing heavily, grunting, moaning, vocalizing constantly in one way or another. He kisses your lips, sucks your neck, and lightly bites you as your cunt hugs his cock just right.  He steals downward glances at your body and groans as he watches his glistening cock disappear into you again and again. He gradually ups the pace and intensity until you're whining.  

"Fuck," he sighs, and you whimper. "Too much?"

"Don't hold back," you shake your head. "Don't you dare hold back."

"Oh, baby," he says, then slams into you with all his weight. You asked for it, but you're really not prepared for the other realm he sends you to.  "Fuck MEee," he moans. He pounds into you, grunting each time he buries his cock in your dripping core.   He snaps his hips and kisses you sloppily. Your mouths are half connected and half moaning into each other's cheeks. 

You moan, “Jo–” but stop yourself. 

“S'okay," he pants. "You can say it.”

“Fuck, I–”

“Say it, sweetheart”

“Joel,” you whine.

"Oh, Christ," he pants.

"Fuck, Joel, uggggh–your--"

"Oh, Fuck"

"Feel so–"

"Yeah," he breathes, slamming into you with his weight behind it. “Fuck, baby–yeahhh”.

You feel the pleasure building in your gut and core as he fucks you.  Your sounds must seem increasingly distressed, and so do his. They tumble out of the back of his throat. The tension in your belly tightens. He lowers his chest against yours again. Your arms are around his neck and his forearms squeeze your sides. He manages to fuck you so deep and good, even while he's flat against you. His hips move like a mating animal. 

It hits you like a ton of bricks: This is it. Every other man is ruined for you. How could anything compare? Your own eyes prickle with tears.

Joel tries a few times to say things, but every time it devolves into a moan or guttural sigh. He makes sounds you haven't heard before. 

"Ohhh, fuck," he moans. "I dunno if I can–" 

You open your eyes and the agonized look on his face puts you all the way on the edge. He must be close. 

"Give it to me, Joel."

He pistons into you harder, all his muscles flexing.  You whimper as your thighs tremble. 

"C'mon, baby," he whispers, then he grunts. He growls, "Soak me, baby–ohh–Just fuckin'––nnngh"

You sigh vocally and start to clench around him.  You moan his name, long and drawn out as pleasure seizes you. 

You flutter around his cock and he gasps, "oh, fuck." You gush and groan, your hips lifting into him, mouth hanging open, breathing and whining at once.  

He pants, "Fuck–(a low moan), I wanna fill–ohhhhh, god (heavy breaths). Sweetheart, i really wanna–ahh, shit." He bites his lips together, his cheeks puff out, and his neck vein flexes. You’re still cumming. He grunts from the back of his throat as he pulls out and slaps cock down on your mound. He presses his body against you so his cock rubs your still pulsing clit. 

His cock is nestled between your bodies, and he’s grinding into you when he erupts massively with a shudder from deep in his chest.  His pulsations drag yours out as his cum coats your mound and lower belly. He groans as he slowly, wetly grinds against you. He breathes and gasps for air, still cumming. His cock pulses so powerfully, a hot rope every couple of seconds. 

With the movement of his hips and sliding of his cock, the warmth of his cum spreads around your skin, settling into your navel, and he’s still cumming. The obscene mess between you is sticky and growing.  Then, even after his balls have emptied, he stays on top of you, hard cock pressed against you, empty pulsations waning for what feels like minutes.  He's so warm and wet and hard. He lies there with his weight on you and dips his forehead to your pillow, resting his temple against yours. You both have aftershocks against each other as you try to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," you pant softly. Once he rolls off you, you're already sticking to each other near the edges of the mess where it's drying. 

—--

All you can do is breathe heavily. His lips find yours. He kisses you deeply, then pulls back and hovers over you. He brushes tears you don't realize you're crying off your cheeks and his brow furrows.  

"Shit," he says as his thumb brushes your cheek. His eyes are wide. "You okay?" He swallows and studies your face. 

You nod confidently and look him in the eyes. He bows his head with relief, then gently kisses you again. You're terrified he's gonna come down and regret it. Your wet skin begins to feel cold. You look down. "Oh my god." It's so much cum. You're covered in it. It's all the way up to your breasts, at least. It's all over him, too.

"Oh shit," he says with a small laugh. "Gimme a sec." He gets out of bed. 

-----

Cleaning both of you up takes multiple warm washcloths. You really need a full shower, but you're so tired and just want to be held. 

You move to  the dry side of the bed. You'll deal with it all in the morning. He turns off the lamp and gets under the sheets with you. You face each other, and he wraps his arms around you. 

You ask, "What time do you have to leave?" 

"I'm not worried about it," he says. 

There's a long silence, during which he strokes your shoulder with his thumb.

Then you whisper, "What now?"

"Mmm….We do it again, and again, and again. . ." 

You look up at him. "Are you mocking me?" 

He kisses you.

"I'm trying to have an adult conversation," you mock back.  

Then he whispers, "let's go to sleep" and kisses you good night. 

—-------

His Xmas party look 😍😍😍

Distressed stepdad art 🥹🥹🥹

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Your comments and reblogs mean a lot!!!! I love you guys. You can follow @toxicfics to turn on notifications. make sure your phone has push notifs enabled for tumblr.

If this is the first one you've read, I strongly recommend reading the series (it's not long like prob <15k total). there are references to it in this.

------

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

[604to647]

Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 1

Happy NYE! 🥳🥳

I read so many wonderful, hot, gut-wrenching, unforgettable, inspiring Pedro Pascal character fanfics... and I haven't been reblogging them 🫣 (it's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me). Don't hate me please - reblogging gives me so much anxiety, and I'm not even sure I could articulate why if I tried - and I see a lot of the discussion/discourse/posts re: reblogging and I truly understand all perspectives although it just seems to elevate my nerves about even more.

However, I understand the impact and moreover, I want to do it for the writers that bring me so much joy and inspiration, so I endeavour to try. I want to make it clear that this is a personal hang up of mine, and I have 100% absolutely no comments on how anyone else engages here; reblog/comment/like or don’t per your own preferences and you have nothing but love from me 😘

So it will be a 2024 personal goal of mine to be less shy about reblogging, but while I work up my courage/practice, I wanted to go back and compile a list of some of my fave Pedro boy fics; I think of each and every one of these fics often and have revisited them all (i.e. Exactly the fics I should have reblogged when I read them). I went deep in my likes so some of these fics are quite old; you may have already read them all! If you have or haven’t, I hope you love them as much as I do!

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)

Boxer!Din AU by @djarinsbeskar (Boxer and his masseuse, who relaxes him in more ways than one. I've mentioned before that this is the first Modern Din AU I ever read and it's cemented itself as one of the best. Making Safest with You Din an ex-boxer is my humble homage.)

Freu(Din)an Slip by @saradika (Is there space porn in the SW universe? Yes.)

Bare by @charnelhouse (part of an AU between Din and bounty hunter!reader; other favourite instalments include Come and Conquer and Din's Ex)

A Bond to My Soul by @whiskeynwriting (King!Din and reader, with a battle just outside the doors)

Mine also by @whiskeynwriting (Jealous Din, no need to say more)

Beloved series by @groguspicklejar (Din falls in love with Cyare; mind the tags - the writing is rich and the emotions deep)

Courting by @writerlyhabits (another Mandalorian tries to court you and Din's having none of that)

Hold me down by @starlightmornings (Din as your weighted blanket)

Be Mine by @spacecowboyhotch (Glove kink)

Save a Speeder, Ride a Mando by @sprout-fics (I love fics where Din is jealous of Cobb)

Helping Hand and Did you miss me? by @mellowswriting (Din smut and fluff; they're in love, okay?)

Fix you by @roguetonorth (Comforting Din)

Rough Day by @no-droids (I think everyone knows about this fic; Sweet Girl!Reader holds a special place in my heart)

Take me to Church by @frannyzooey (Western AU; seriously one of the hottest and most romantic series I've ever read. I cried several times 🥹)

Flowers & Sex by @221bshrlocked (Din and innocent!Reader)

Show me by @moralesispunk (A bounty gets mouthy)

Patience by @oscarseyebrow (Starts with cockwarming)

Close Quarters by @absurdthirst (One bed/bunk)

Reunion by @heybluechild (Breaking in the N1)

Significant by @softlyspector (Din calls Reader "Riduur"; I love, love, love Mando fics with lots of Mando'a; so much care is always taken by the writers to translate and weave the words into the story)

Din takes out his frustrations by @ourautumn86

Javier Pena (Narcos)

Burn for Me by @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis (Reader teases Javi; it backfires)

Use me by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Javi is frustrated)

Needy by @wheresarizona (Reader is going to be late for work 🤭)

Reader brings Javi dinner at work by @forthetears

Joel Miller (TLOU)

Bad Girl by @seventeenpins (The first in a hot stepdad!Joel Miller series)

The Boss' Bunny by @talaok (The first in a series about QZ criminal boss Joel and his insatiable bunny)

Help! I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter (Oof! Father-in-law!Joel Miller and his OF daughter-in-law; 2 in the series so far)

Stripped by @thot-of-khonshu (Mr. Miller goes to a strip club)

Stay in Bed series by @psychedelic-ink (Neighbour Joel, pre-outbreak)

A Man Like Him by @valerinaswriting (No one should question Joel's abilities)

Mine by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Reader wears Joel's shirt on accident)

You Are My Cinema by @itgetsdark-x (Camgirl!Reader)

An Afternoon with Your Dad's Best Friend by @elvinaa (I mean, it's in title 🤭; I actually always secretly wish for a sequel to this one)

Come and get your love by @sunflowersteves (Sunshine!Reader)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)

Kinktober 2022 - Erotic Photos by @moralesispunk (Reader gifts Frankie a Polaroid camera)

Thirds by @haylzcyon (Reader visits new boyfriend Frankie at work)

Grass is Greener by @haylzcyon (Frankie mows the lawn)

Kinktober 2022 - Overstimulation by @flightlessangelwings-updates (This was my introduction to pussy eating king Frankie)

Cabin in the woods by @guess-my-next-obsession (The cabin is spooky but Frankie is there to take care of Reader)

Double Feature (and all of the Box Set Universe) by @frannyzooey (Frankie and Reader love movies)

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

Little Red's Shadow by @littlemisspascal (Werewolf!Pero 🥹)

In my dreams by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Princess falls for a mercenary)

Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion, all 48 seconds)

A Sight for Sore Eyes and Sir by @ozarkthedog (Semi-public sex)

Anything you say can and will be held against you by @jksprincess10 (Workplace rivals)

An Important Appointment by @boliv-jenta (Sex worker!Reader)

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

A present by @radiowallet (Lingerie prompt; Cat writes some of the best Marcus Moreno fics on here imho. This one is my personal fave)

First Date by @absurdthirst (Workplace FWB)

The Date by @wardenparker (Professor!Marcus but also Marcus on a motorcycle)

Part 2 of list

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Living in My Head

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.  Specific Warnings: Male masturbation, inability to come, Allusions to childhood abuse, Mommy issues, Parental abuse, Coersion, drinking, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, angst, heartbreak, stepcest(in bold, this is *again* heavy on the issues around this),Manipulation/gaslighting, traumatic childhood, parental neglect, angst, grief, regret, depression, Allusion to violence/past SA, abusive relationships, Strained parent-adult child relationship. Let us know if we missed anything! Thank you again, as always to my co-author, @angelofsmalldeath-codeine - This would not be the series it is without you.

6.7k words.

AO3 link <- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

Nancy returned from helping Danielle to an empty home. Dave’s car is gone and you’re not picking up your phone, but she’s already over it by her second glass of wine. She sits at the kitchen island, brightly manicured fingers drumming on the polished countertops as she looks over the glossy photographs the PI sent across.

She’s pouring her third glass of wine as the frustration prickles under her skin. She knows it can’t be later than six, but she doesn’t care. She needs this drink, and the two that came before.  

“So,” she asks, annoyance clear in her tone as she looks them over, “What am I looking at?”

“My guess? A lover’s spat, maybe he forced himself on her and she bolted? But there’s some high emotions there. Poor girl’s crying her eyes out.”

“Well, it’s a start,” Nancy sighs, she was expecting something a bit more titillating than this, “Keep up the good work, Philip. Let me know if you get anything good.”

“Yes, Ma’am, happy to help.”

The line goes dead and Nancy lifts one of the photographs to study it closer. Your eyes are red and puffy as you scream something from the passenger side of a car Nancy doesn’t recognize. Your cheeks are wet and you’re angry.

There’s a small, quiet part of her brain that pities you, makes her feel bad for whatever it was Dave did to upset you. But it’s quickly glossed over, forgotten, as she hears the front door open and close. Her lips curl up as she hears Dave’s voice from the hall.

“Hey, honey, I’m home.”

“Hey, babe, I’m in the kitchen.”

Dave saunters in, perfectly practiced smile on his face as he approaches her. Immediately he senses something is off, from the photographs on the table to the smirk on Nancy’s face. It’s obvious something big is going to go down.

“Care to explain these?”

~*~

You pace the small length of Ash’s spare room frantically as you wait for her to come home from work. It’s been a month since she took you in, and you realize you really need to come clean to her. About everything. You’d told her about the cam work the morning after she’d picked you up. Like the super star she is, she’d taken it incredibly well. So, you’d kept working, making more content than ever.

Yet there’s another reason you need to have a chat. You’ve finalized the rental of an apartment in the city, so you’re moving out. But you feel like you owe Ash an explanation, she hasn’t so much as pushed the issue since you arrived. Besides the initial ‘Did someone touch you?’ ‘Are you hurt?’ ‘Do I need to call the police?’ Ash had let you grieve, wallow, and recover at your own pace.

She only had to make you shower once, and that was in the first week, when everything was just too much.

You hear Ash before she’s even through the door, singing Wham!’s ‘Last Christmas’ at the top of her lungs as she struts through the apartment building. You roll your eyes, it’s not December for another week, but there’s no arguing with Ash over it being too early.

Your phone vibrates and you snatch it up, a small part of you hoping to hear from Dave, but you’re glad it’s not. As much as you can’t admit it out loud, you miss him, and you’re regretting the call for radio silence now. The fact that he’s still respecting your boundaries only makes you ache even more for him.  

Mom: Hey, sweetheart, I’m just checking in again. I’m worried about you, please just let me know you’re alive.

You shake your head as you pocket the phone, you’ve been posting on your socials, and she follows you on every platform she knows about. She knows you’re alive, she just wants you to cave, to give in to her pestering. You focus back on the issue at hand as you hear Ashleigh announce herself from the front door.

“Hey, bitch, I’m home!”

“Hey, good day?”

You ask as you take a steadying breath, trying to quell your nerves as you step out into the modest open plan space of the kitchen-diner-living room. Ash is mid-flop onto the sofa as she looks up at you, whatever she was going to say lost to the way she’s now frowning at you.

“It was fine, what’s wrong?”

You wince as you take your place next to her on the threadbare sofa, you’ve never been able to hide your feelings from Ash.

“I’ve got something I need to tell you,” you start, knee bobbing up and down as you try – and fail – to get comfortable, “about Dave, my stepdad.”

“I know who Dave is,” Ash’s tone is guarded, you can almost hear the gears grinding away in her mind as she stares you down, “What did he do?”

“He didn’t- I mean, that’s not how it went down-,” you fumble, caught off guard by the judgement in Ash’s tone.

“So, what did happen?”

“We fucked.”

You blurt it out, covering your eyes as you wait for the verbal abuse to start flowing. You feel your gut twist in knots as you brace yourself for the shame, the disappointment you know is coming.

“Well, shit, that explains a lot.”

Ash says finally and you look up to see an incredulous look on her face. No anger, not even a hint of disgust. She just looks like Ash always does when she’s figured something out. A satisfied smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“What do you mean?” you ask, lips pinched together as you track every move Ash makes, watching for sudden movements, changes in body language.

“That night, the one where you went home with that douchebag, was it then?”

“God, no! He’s NOT like that, Ash, he was just doing what any good guy would do,” you shrug, knowing how unconvincing a statement that is.

“Hey, chill, it was just a question,” Ash raises an eyebrow at you, “So he picked you up, and he just took you home?”

You nod slowly, chewing your lip as you take a beat to compose yourself.

“Did he at least kick that guy's ass?”

Ash’s tone is a little defensive and you look up to see her jaw clenched.

“I think he beat the ever-living shit out of him,” you smile despite yourself, “but I was pretty out of it, the guy did a number on me and I’m pretty sure his friends would have helped themselves if I’d stayed.”

“He beat on them too?”

You shake your head, you hadn’t really thought about it until now, but Dave must have really fucked Tristan up for the other two to have stayed put.

“No, they backed off when Dave carried me out of there.”

It’s still so fuzzy but you remember flashes of Tristan’s crumpled form on the floor. The way his friends looked like they’d seen something horrific.

Maybe they had.

“Jesus! Is he some kind of James Bourne?” Ash says with a scoff and you both laugh at the ridiculous nature of it. Dave, a super soldier government assassin.

“So, he’s been looking out for you, when did you guys fuck? Was it just one time?”

“Three times,” you say as heat prickles under your skin, from embarrassment but also from the memory, “and it’s been almost two months since the last time.”

“Is it more than sex?”

You hesitate, too long really to deny it, but you still can’t say it aloud.

“It can’t be,” you mutter as you look down at your shoes.

“So, that’s a yes,” Ash says with a sigh as she grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you in for a tight hug. You flinch at the contact initially, but you lean into her strong embrace.

“It’s so fucked up, Ash,” you shudder as you weep into her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she hums as she continues to hold you, her tone musing, “but we don’t always get dealt the best hand, right? I mean, this is probably one of your healthiest relationships to date.”

“Ash!”

You pull back, trying to sound angry as you know she’s not wrong. You can’t even recall a single stable, remotely healthy relationship.

“If you could remove your mom – figuratively – from the situation,” Ash asks as she rubs the edge of her jaw, her thinking face on, “Would you pursue him?”

“Yes.”

The word is out of your mouth before you can stop it and the realization sinks in. You finally allow yourself to admit to the feelings you’ve been shunning for weeks.

I have feelings for him.

“I like him, Ash, more than just for the sex. I asked him to halt contact, and he has, and he even stopped watching my streams.”

“He watched your streams?” Ash is back on offence now, concern twisting her face into a scowl.

“He didn’t know it was me,” you say, and you cringe as you hear it aloud, “He’d been watching for months before he found out.”

“He let you keep streaming after you fucked?”

“Let me? Come on Ash, I thought you’d be more open minded than that,” You can’t help but scoff at the notion of Dave letting you do anything, “Dave has been nothing but supportive, he made sure I knew it too.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to get a read on this man. This is a man who jumped at the chance to fuck his stepdaughter,” you cringe at how blunt she’s being, but Ash keeps going, “You can’t expect me not to think there’s some coercion here, some manipulation or shitty attitudes towards this kind of work.”

“I love that you care about me to worry so much, I really do,” you shake your head, “But Dave isn’t like that, he respects me, my boundaries. I hate to say it, it’s so fucking cliché, but he’s not like anyone that came before, Ash. He actually gives a damn about me beyond sex. He’s not once tried to control or dictate my actions. In fact, he goes out of his way to make sure this is on my terms, always.” You take a long-overdue breath and Ash looks at you, eyebrow raised as she waits for you to continue.

“The stepdad thing is just,” you pause, trying to find the right word, “unfortunate.”

“It’s more than unfortunate, you idiot, it’s a fucking Greek Tragedy. God, you really are into him, aren’t you?” Ash smiles, her face softening as she shakes her head.

“Yeah,” you feel your shoulders slump, a tension you hadn’t realized was there finally easing.

“What a shitshow.”

“Yeah, and you’re right, it still ranks up there as one of the healthiest relationships I’ve ever had.”

You meant it as a joke, but it hangs in the air between you. Ash knows everything, she’s been there through everything. There’s a pregnant pause as you both mull over the conversation, neither of you quite knowing what to say.

“So, what are you going to do?”

You go to answer when your phone buzzes continually and you know who the caller is going to be before you even look.

“Let me guess,” Ash sighs, “The Wicked Witch of Central Texas?”

“Of course it is,” you sigh, declining the call, “I need to at least text her back, she’s becoming more persistent.”

“Just don’t say anything you’ll regret,” Ash shrugs.

“I’ll answer it later, there’s something else I needed to tell you.”

You throw your phone back down and take a deep breath.

“Fuck, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“No!” You say panicking, the mere thought of it making your insides twist.

“Nothing like that, I’m moving out.”

“Ah shit,” Ash sounds genuinely disappointed, “I kind of liked having you around.”

“I love living with you, your shitty singing aside, but I need to do this, for me.”

Ash sneers at the singing comment but you can see the genuine sadness in her eyes at the news.

“When do you get the keys?”

“Monday, going to need some help getting my shit from Nancy’s,” you say, hoping that Ash gets the hint.

“That’s the first time you’ve called her by her first name,” Ash says, nothing but observation in her statement but you realize it’s a big deal.

“I guess it is.”

You sit on that for a moment, not sure how to feel about it when your phone buzzes again. This time another text. You look down to see one from your dad too and a twist of guilt in your gut makes you bite your lip.

“I gotta look at this or she’s going to be calling me all night.”

 “Alright, well I’m hitting the shower, don’t let her sink her claws back into you or get you involved in whatever current MLM she’s pedaling.”

Ash kisses you on the top of the head before getting up from the sofa and stretching out dramatically.  

“Is there a difference?”

Ashleigh doesn’t respond as she heads into the bathroom at the other end of the room, the door clicking shut behind her as you hear her start to sing once more. This time it’s Mariah Carey’s ‘All I want for Christmas is You.’

You open the text from your dad, and you roll your eyes. Your guilt is assuaged as you see the clear evidence of your mom making him text you.

Dad: hey, your mom told me you’re not returning her calls. She said you left the house, no note, nothing. What’s going on? Are you ok?

You’re just surprised it’s taken this long for her to enlist him to her cause. Usually, she’s under his skin much sooner than this. You open your mom’s conversation thread and sigh. There are over thirty messages there. Ranging from guilt tripping sob stories, to angry ‘Where Are You?’s’ and incoherent gibberish from where she was clearly drunk at 8pm and desperate.

Mom: Hey darling, I’m really sorry you felt you needed to leave the house. Dave won’t tell me what he did, he says you just needed space. Space from what, honey? What did he do? Do you need me to come and get you? I’m just so worried about you, please just let me know where you are and that you’re safe. Just a text would be enough, please?

I love you, honey, and I would do anything for you, you know that right? Xxx

You sit for a while, trying to convince yourself to ignore her but you’re tired of the incessant messaging, the constant pressure to respond. Then you think of Dave, of how he’s not contacted you once, not logged into Cam Dolls for the whole time. You bite your lip as you make the decision to call her.

You pad back into Ash’s spare room and shut the door. She answers on the second ring. You sit down at the foot of the bed as you brace yourself for the spiel you know too well by now.

“Oh, baby is that you? Are you ok? Where are you?”

“Hey, mom,” you sigh, already pinching the bridge of your nose as you try not to sigh outwardly at the fake concern lacing her tone, “I’m fine, I’m with Ash, I’m safe.”

“Baby what happened? What did he do to you?”

You clench your jaw at the insinuation, but you try not to let it bleed into your voice as you respond.

“Nothing, mom, I just needed space, things with you and Dave are too weird for me right now.”

“What do you mean weird?”

The fact that you keep pushing the angle that he forced himself on me for one. Doesn’t exactly scream marital bliss.

You think to yourself as you flop back down onto the modest single bed. You’re already exhausted by her shit, less than two minutes into the call.                                                                                                                                        

“I know there’s something going on between you, it’s been clear since I moved in.”

You confer if you’ve been too forward as your mom goes uncharacteristically silent on the other end.

“We’re having issues yes, but we’re working on them.”

You fight the urge to scoff as you nod along.

“I think me being there makes it awkward,” you say as you nod to yourself, “You and Dave need your home to be yours, especially if you’re working on stuff.”

“You’re always too selfless. You know that, kiddo?”

“I’ve been told.”

There’s a silence as you have genuinely run out of things to say, you’re bored by the predictability of your mom’s behavior.

“I was thinking,” your mom breaks the silence, uncertainty clear in her voice, “Would you come to dinner tomorrow night, just so we can talk about all of this, so I can make things right?”

Your first thought is whether Dave will be there, but you don’t press the issue, there’s no point raising suspicion now.

“Sure.”

You agree too quickly, but you know it’ll buy you her goodwill. She’ll back off if you can survive one evening in her home. Eating her food, being provided for.

“Really?” Your mom cries out, clearly expecting you to decline.

“I said yes, didn’t I?”

“Don’t be like that,” your mother’s tone changes to scolding, “You don’t have to be a bitch about it, don’t come if you don’t want to-,”

“Mom,” you snap, not willing to put up with her speaking to you like this, “I said yes, I’ll be there. What time?”

It’s almost comical how quickly she changes her tone, brightening up like she hadn’t just flipped her lid on you.

“Come round for six, I’m cooking a roast.”

“Wonderful, see you then.”

You remove the phone from your ear and as you’re hovering over the End Call icon you hear it:

“I love you, darling.”

You hang up quickly, not wanting to say it back, but you hope you can play it off as having hung up just as you heard her. You drop your phone onto the bed, not bothering to look at the message that comes through, nor the next. You’re already emotionally spent as it is. Your thoughts drift to Dave and you realize you need to let him know you’re coming. You know for sure Nancy won’t tell him.

~*~

Dave bolts wide awake, the sounds of Panama City’s nightlife weaving through the humid air. He looks down at his cock as it tents his sweatpants, and he groans. He frees his throbbing length and slowly jerks himself off. Trying so hard to just reach climax but like every other time, something holds him back.

He’s covered in sweat and panting profusely by the time he finally gives up. His dick leaking and sore as he lets it flop against his bare abs. He can’t stop thinking about you, and it is making him distracted. In his line of work, it could get him killed. But he’s worried about you, worried that he’s hurt you and jeopardized any chances of something ever happening between you two. He just needs to know you’re ok, safe, happy.

He pulls out his phone and opens your contact, no photo, just your number and the contact's name: Princess🌙.

He sighs, locking his phone before tossing it on the nightstand. You told him not to contact you, so that’s what he’s doing.

He rolls out of bed and pads into the shitty hotel bathroom to turn on the faucet. He can’t even count on a cold shower here, so a lukewarm one will have to do. Eventually he manages to calm down enough to try and sleep. He flops back on the bed, and he crosses his arms over his head as he stares without looking at the impotent ceiling fan as it idly rotates above him. His head throbs and his chest aches as he tries and fails to get some sleep. It’s not the first time this has happened.

Every time he dreams about you, which is painfully often, he wakes up with a raging hard-on and a guilty conscience.

It’s been almost four weeks since he last saw you fleeing from his home. Fleeing from him. He can’t get you out of his head. He’s plagued by the grilling Nancy gave him after she got the photos back from Resnik, or Philip, as she knows him.

“What did you do to her, Dave?”

Nancy had cornered him on the Wednesday following your departure. He was still dazed from the concussion and fumbled through excuses.

“I didn’t do anything, Nancy. She was upset, I tried to make her stay. Have you talked to her?”

Nancy paused, shock on her face at the question. Clearly the answer was no.

“Did you touch her? Force yourself on her? Is that why she left?”

“Jesus Christ, Nancy, no! Of course not!”

“Then what was she yelling at you about huh?”

“She told me not to call her, to leave her alone, that she needed space!”

Dave hadn’t even tried to keep his temper in check. His head still burned from the concussion, his mood sour from the mission he had just been assigned. He just wanted to come home, have a beer and go to bed. Not this shit.

“And why does she need that, huh?” Nancy was up in his space again, just like that night when she struck him. Dave could feel the rage simmering under the surface as the smell of rosé invaded his senses.

“I don’t know, Nancy, maybe because she heard you hanging our prenup over my head? She is a lawyer; she knows how serious of a threat that is. But maybe, just maybe, it’s because you forgot her birthday, because you rushed off to spend time with Danielle on her birthday weekend. Maybe because every time you’ve addressed her since she’s been home it’s like you’ve been speaking to a child. She’s thirty years old, Nancy, she deserves some goddamned respect. Or could it be that she had to drag me, bleeding and unconscious, to the hospital after you hit me? Maybe she just needed to be away from this broken fucking home.”

It all came out in a surge of bitter hatred, so unlike him, so unlike the man he wants to be. But everyone has their breaking point.

“How dare you?” Nancy spits and Dave stands his ground as she tries to square up with him.

“She covered for you that day, she took me to the hospital and lied for you.”

That shuts Nancy up, her eyes wide as she takes a step back.

“Yeah, she made up a fake cat, said I fell down the stairs tripping over it.”

“She’s a good daughter, of course she’d defend me,” Nancy mumbles but Dave’s heard enough. He’s already walking away, heading down into the one room in his house that still feels like his own. Not another beige, soulless room. Nancy calls something after him as he goes but he’s just not paying any attention to her anymore.

He locks the bedroom door behind him, the cramped space is practically the only place he sleeps now, sleeping beside Nancy was out of the question. Hell, she might even try to smother him in his sleep if he did.

He opens his safe, checking the temperature controls are correct as he makes sure the candlestick is still there. Wrapped up in a sandwich bag and kept at the right temperature. The first thing he had done before stumbling into your arms was secure the evidence. Later he made a copy of the security camera footage, which sits in another safe in the garage. He wasn’t going to take any chances with this.

The moment Nancy comes for him – legally speaking – as he knows she will, he’ll be ready.

The buzz of his phone on the nightstand brings him back to the present as he rolls over and picks up his phone. He’s waiting on a lead for the hit he’s pulling down here, but what he’s greeted with makes his mouth curve up into a fond smile.

Princess🌙: Hey, sorry it’s late, or early? Not sure if you’re home? Mom’s having me over for dinner tomorrow, just wanted to let you know.

Dave groans, he needs to talk to you properly before you see your mom again. To his luck another text comes through, details of an address two streets over followed by a message from Ari.

A: Target is enroute to airport, will be at location in twenty minutes. We Green?

Dave texts back “Green” as he springs out of bed, throwing on his clothes as he snatches up his go bag. Before he leaves the room, he texts you back.

Duke🎷: I’ll be touching down in Houston in a few hours, can we talk then?

To his surprise you start to text back straight away, but he doesn’t look, stowing his phone as he storms out of his dingy hotel. He fastens the silencer to the end of his pistol and pulls on his lucky black beanie. He has a job to do.

~*~

You’re getting dressed for dinner when Dave’s call comes through. You’d agreed to talk beforehand and as much as you had been anticipating it, you feel nerves jostling around in your chest.

“Hey,” you say, your voice breathy and full of unwelcome unease as you try – and fail – to keep your cool.

“Thanks for reaching out, I appreciate it,” Dave says with a softness to his voice you’ve only ever heard a handful of times before. It’s calming and scintillating all at the same time. You want to feel his breath on your skin as he talks to you like this. You shake yourself mentally as you focus on the reason you agreed to talk.

“Thought we should be on the same page for tonight,” you say with a shrug, even if you know he can’t see you.

“So,” Dave takes a deep exhale on the other end of the line, and you hold your breath waiting for what comes next, “I told your mom that you left because you needed space.”

“I mean, that’s pretty much it.”

“Yeah,” Dave chuckles low over the line and you find yourself smiling despite yourself, “She asked if I touched you.”

“Fuck,” you wheeze down the phone as you look at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your makeup for the millionth time tonight, “You denied it, right?”

You almost laugh, finally seeing the angle your mom has been trying to play the whole time. She knows that if you so much as confess that Dave harmed you, prenup or not, he’ll be screwed if she files for divorce. You never thought she was looking out for you; you just assumed it was some weird jealousy thing. But now you see it clear as day.

“Of course, and the way she framed it, it didn’t come across like she was asking me to admit anything shy of me outright assaulting you.”

You actually laugh now. Humorless and bitter as you try not to think about your mother’s previous partners. About how they could flirt and eye-fuck you, how they would linger a little too long in their hugs and kisses. As long as Nancy never caught them doing it outright. As long as it was never obvious enough to bring out her jealous streak.

Where was this probing inquisition then?

“I’m not surprised, but I have your back Dave, always.”

“Hey?”

“What?”

“I didn’t do that, right? I didn’t force myself on you?”

You take a moment to reflect, searching your feelings before you speak.

“Never,” you say in a hushed whisper as you feel a tension easing in your chest, “I never felt that way with you Dave, not for a second.”

“Not even when I fucked you on stream? Threatened you with outing you to your mom?”

You pause at that, really considering the scenario in your head before answering.

“It wasn’t an ideal way to start things, but you were playing to the scene,” you sigh, “But no, you didn’t take advantage of me Dave. I knew what I was doing, and I keep private recordings of all my streams, for posterity and for when I need to plug content. If I wanted to fuck you over, I could have.”

“What are you saying, exactly?”

“If you had made me do anything I didn’t want, you’d be fucked Dave. Fucked so hard.”

There’s a pause before Dave laughs aloud on the other end of the line and you can’t help but smile at his reaction. You’ve missed that sound. Missed him.

“You’re a fucking clever woman and I’m glad you’re looking after yourself.”

You don’t know how to respond to that. You want to take the praise, take the win, but there’s an unease to it all. You’ve only learned to protect yourself because you’d done it all on instinct. You know that no-one else will look out for you if things go wrong.

“It’s all I know,” you say as you take a deep breath, tears threatening at the corners of your eyes, “But I need to finish getting ready.”

“Of course, I won’t keep you.”

You almost hang up then and there, sever the connection before it has chance to take root once more. But there’s something you can’t continue to ignore.

“Thanks for giving me space, Dave. It meant the world to me.”

“No need to thank me.”

“Yeah, ok. See you soon?” you say, hesitation making you linger on the line, you don’t want to stop talking to him, not after so long with no contact.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The call drops and you feel a hollowness to your bones. Like hearing Dave’s voice after so long had ripped open a half-healed wound. Your fingertips burn and your chest heaves as you set your phone down on the bed. You look at yourself in the mirror and try to hype yourself up a little.

You’re in a loose sweater and jeans, low heeled boots, nothing fancy. You just want to get through the night with as little drama as possible. Turning up in anything but something comfy would only set your mother off, you just know it.

“You ready to go?”

Ash asks as she leans against the doorframe, arms folded across her chest as she looks at you. You know she wants to say something, disapproval written all over her face.

“Yeah, let me just get my purse,” you respond, stowing your phone and slinging your bag over your shoulder. You check that you’ve got your key to the apartment and your wallet before nodding feebly to Ash.

~*~

Dave jumps up from the sofa as he hears the doorbell, his heart thundering in his chest as he hears Nancy open the door. He stops himself at the bottom of the basement stairs when he hears a masculine voice in place of your own.

“Hey there, Nance,” Dave bristles at the nickname, Nancy never lets him call her anything but her given name. Something about the stranger at his door immediately has him on edge. He heads back into his office to check the porch camera.

A mousey looking man, maybe ten years his senior stands at the front door, wringing his hands before stepping in to hug Nancy just out of frame. He immediately checks the rest of the security cameras are working as expected, tracking Nancy and the mystery man into the kitchen before making sure the feed is being recorded and backed up to the cloud.

“Oh Andy, you know I hate that nickname,” Nancy giggles and Dave almost scoffs at the playful flirtatious tone.

“And you know I hate Andy just as much. Kiddo here yet?”  

“No, she’s due any minute. Dave, stop sulking and help us lay the table,” Nancy hollers down the hall.

Dave rolls his eyes and does as he’s told, even if he already feels like something is amiss. He doesn’t like surprises and he pulls out his phone. He tries to call you, but it goes straight to voicemail. He types out a quick text.

Duke 🎷: Some guy called Andy’s here. Just wanted you to know.

The doorbell rings a second time just as he hits send. His stomach drops when he hears Nancy ask Andy to answer the door. He’s taking the stairs two at a time in an attempt to cut him off, but he knows he’s too late as he hears the door open.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Andy’s voice is softer when speaking to you, more familiar.

Then Dave hears it, a word that takes his breath away like he’s been winded.

“Dad?”

~*~

The whole ride to Dave’s house had been filled with tense silence, your stomach doing flips as you tried to mentally prepare yourself. But what you hadn’t anticipated was your father being the first person you see. He looks good, short hair a shade lighter, fewer greys and more white hairs streaking through.

“What are you doing here?”

Ash is still parked at the end of the drive, waiting for the signal for her to leave. You turn over your shoulder and you see her peering out of the window to assess the situation.

“Good to see you too, sweetheart,” he chuckles as he tries to pull you into a hug. You step back, throwing your hands up defensively as you shake your head.

“I think I made a mistake, I’m sorry.”

You’re already backing up, mouth dry and heart threatening to burst from your chest when you hear Dave say your name. Your eyes dart up to see him, standing at the top of the stairs to the basement, he’s deathly pale as he lingers there. His dark eyes are wide, filled with horror laced with compassion. A ghost in his own home.

“Shut the damned door, you’re letting the heat out,” your mom huffs as she comes to see what the fuss is all about.

“Oh honey, come on in, you’ll catch your death standing out there like that.”

She pushes your father out of the way, and you feel like your body isn’t your own as she ushers you inside. The hollowness inside you grows, a dark, dank maw threatening to tear you apart as you hear the door shut with a thud behind you.

“What can I get you to drink? Some wine?”

Your mother guides you to the kitchen, practically pushing you into the stool as she heads to the fridge. She pours you a glass of rosé and you take it without thinking. Your ears are filled with a droning buzz, saliva pools in your mouth as you feel panic rising in your throat. You want to scream, to get the fuck out of there. But all you can do is comply.

“Sorry, I need to hit the bathroom,” you mumble as you get up on shaky legs, your wine untouched as you practically run upstairs.

“Dave,” your mother’s voice grates on you as you hear him screech at him, “Where is that man?”

You know where he is, you’re looking at him, leaning back on the wall. Eyes locked with you as he shakes his phone at you. You nod slowly as you ascend the stairs, fishing out your phone as you hurry towards the room you once called your own.

You unlock your phone as you close the door behind you. Three unread messages from Dave.

Duke 🎷: Some guy called Andy’s here. Just wanted you to know.

Duke 🎷: I didn’t know, I’m sorry.

Duke 🎷: Are you ok?

You bring up his contact and hit call. You don’t care about anything else right now, you just need to vent, and texting just won’t cut it. You lock the door and sit down at your desk, logging in by sheer habit as you wait for Dave to pick up. You hear him shout something about a work call to your mom and you allow yourself to smirk. You know she’ll hate that he’s taken a work call in the middle of her all-important dinner.

“This is risky,” you hear Dave growl down the line, but you don’t care about the risk, not right now.

“What the fuck is going on, Dave?”

You hiss down the line as you pull up your browser out of instinct and the homepage is all wrong. You should have saved folders on the bookmarks bar, links to your online banking, your social media links. But it’s all gone.

“I told you I didn’t know,” Dave grunts as you hear him flop down with a sigh, presumably at his desk.

You’re only half-listening to him now, your fingers typing furiously as you bring up an app on your computer. You’d installed it back when you started cam work, a tamper-proof software that tracked logins, provided antivirus protection amongst other things.

“I can drive you home if this is too-,”

“That fucking bitch,” you snap, not listening to Dave anymore as you read through the logs. Over the last four weeks your computer has had over twelve incidents of failed login attempts. Next to every failed attempt there’s an attached image. Every time it’s a picture of your mom, brow pinched, thin lips set in a hard line.

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s been trying to access my computer, Dave.”

There’s silence on the other end of the call, too long for it to mean nothing but you’re already taking screenshots and attaching them to emails. You’re documenting everything you can, yet another learned behavior kicking in, protecting yourself from her.

“She’s been snooping in your room a lot lately,” he says, guilt evident in his tone.

“You knew? How?”

“I have motion sensors and security cameras all over the house, my job makes it necessary.”

“You’ve been spying on me?”

“What? No,” it’s Dave’s turn to get defensive, “I only have them on main access points, the kitchen, hallways, the kind of stuff to make sure no-one is intruding without being… Intrusive.”

“Why didn’t you tell me she was doing this?” You snap, shutting down your computer before turning to look around your room. If she’s been on your computer she must have been snooping around the rest of your space.

“You asked me to not contact you,” Dave reminds you with a sigh, but you’ve already moved on, you’re not really mad at him.  

“She’s been through my prop box,” you groan as you pull out the plastic container from under the bed, two of your masks are missing, along with your favorite vibrator.

“How’d you know?”

“My vibe is missing, two masks too.”

Dave hisses down the phone in anger as you hear your mom hollering downstairs and you know you’re on borrowed time already.

“Your mom is calling me.”

“Go, I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Hey,” Dave’s tone softens and makes your heart ache, “I’ve got your back tonight, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” you want to say more, but you stop yourself. You don’t need to make tonight any more awkward than it already is. But it’s there, the treacherous thought, the ghost of a word you can’t dare think, let alone say aloud.

The call ends and you gain your composure with a cough and a roll of your shoulders. Your emotions are threatening to spill over, hemorrhaging from the gaping hole in your chest. Anger, betrayal, sorrow, love, loss, despair. They strain like water assaulting a sluicegate after a flood.

But it’s time to face the music, so you stand up, smooth down your sweater, and prepare yourself for whatever hell awaits you downstairs.

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