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#I cAn FiX hIm
ldr-is-my-life · 2 days
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i keep my lips red
to seem like cherries in the spring
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Peace Offerings Pt. 9
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Series Summary: Joel makes a bad impression on the reader when he cuts in front of her at the radio station in the QZ. Abe, a father figure to her and an informant of Joel’s, informs her that the two have something in common: A brother in Wyoming. Joel reluctantly follows Abe’s wishes when he asks him to take the reader along to help find her brother too. As the journey goes on, she finds that despite his best efforts to make her think so, Joel isn’t a complete asshole, and maybe even a little… attractive?
Series Warnings: Slow burn, Age gap (reader is 34, Joel is 56), 18+ Minors DNI, Sexual Themes, Violence, Injuries (depictions of blood, bruising, broken bones), Cursing, Grumpy!Joel, Minimal depictions of reader's appearance (hair color/length.)
Chapter Warnings: Beginning of the Jackson au!!
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Part Nine
After we said our goodbyes and thanked the older couple, we started back on the road. A few miles from the cabin, we came across sounds of running water and hurried up the bank. A huge reservoir, still turning out water gushed before us. “A dam… and it’s still running.” I remarked. Joel came to stand next to me, his eyebrows knitted together as he took in the potential sign of life. “Might not mean anything.” He said before looking down at me.  “It’s been 20 years, Joel. You expect a dam to be running this smoothly after being untouched for 20 years?” I argued. He turned his gaze back to the rushing water before shaking his head and pursing his lips. I rolled my eyes and pushed past him to continue onto the trail along the reservoir. 
When we rounded the reservoir, we came across a larger river and began to climb a hill. The sound of voices and hooves pounding against the ground stopped us in our tracks. Before I could even flinch to grab my gun, a group of people on horses had come out of the treeline and surrounded us. Joel grabbed my hand and practically threw me behind him. Each of them had a gun pointed straight at us. “We ain’t looking for any trouble, we’re just passing through.” Joel called out with his arms raised. His signature greeting. “Drop the gun.” The closest guy called out. Joel obeyed, slowly and cautiously.  “Girl, take five steps back.” The man demanded. I began to take slow, shaky steps back from Joel, having to pry his hand off my wrist. “How about we just talk this through.” Joel said calmly. “How ‘bout you shut the fuck up.” The guy suggested sternly. “Ok, ok. Easy.” Joel kept his hands raised as the man approached him. “You been near infected?” The man asked. “No infected around here.” Joel answered. “The hell there ain’t.” Our attention was directed to the sound of a dog barking, and we turned to see a man struggling to keep his grip on a huge german shepherd. “Last chance for a bullet. If you’re infected, he will smell it and  he will rip you up.” The man’s voice sounded far away as my heart pounded in my ears. I was pretty sure I wasn’t infected, neither was Joel, but the mere possibility of the dog ripping us apart was terrifying. 
I held my breath and closed my eyes as the dog approached. I felt it’s warm breath on my leg as it sniffed me. Nothing. I released the trapped air from my lungs, and dropped my hands to my sides. “You just bought yourself ten more seconds.” The same man said, “What are you doing out here?” Joel answered, “Just looking for our brothers. That’s all, nothing more.” Once those words left his mouth a woman with long, dark dreadlocks rode forward from behind the man calling out, “Hey! What’s your name?” “Joel.” She eyed the both of us, “And yours?” I eagerly told her my name. Her face dropped in realization, and she then ordered the men to lend us their horses as we rode back. One man gave Joel his horse, and I rode with another man from the group. I gripped the man’s jacket tightly as we followed the others along their path towards giant wooden gates in the middle of a long stretch of tall fencing. One of the men on the horses raised a red flag, and the gates began to open. 
My jaw dropped at the sight. It was as if the town hadn’t been touched by the tragedies that the rest of the world were touched by. There were people laughing and talking as they stood along the streets outside of shops and houses. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I looked at Joel and watched his eyes searching for his brother, and I was brought back to the reality of the situation. Please let them be here. I begged. We rode a little further into town, passing more people who were now staring at us. All of a sudden, Joel called out, “Tommy!” I raised my head up to see if it was really him, not even knowing what he looked like. I caught sight of a man quickly descending the stairs of scaffolding on the side of a house. A look of pure disbelief was painted on his face as he stared at Joel. I could see the resemblance between the two. Joel stepped off the horse and enveloped his brother into a bear hug. The biggest smile I’d ever seen stretched across his face. They shared a long embrace and a few hearty laughs. Soon after, Joel came back over to help me off of the horse and introduce me to Tommy. I smiled at the man as my feet hit the ground, and introduced myself as I reached out a hand. He repeated my name back to me with a warm smile, and shook my hand firmly. Joel came to stand next to me, and as they talked I couldn’t help but notice Tommy’s eyes flitting back and forth between us. I stepped away from Joel, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. 
Through all the fuss of the brother’s reunion, I heard my name being called from a distance. My eyes widened and my chest filled with excitement. I stood on my toes to see over the men’s heads, and I finally caught sight of him. I smiled and pushed past Joel before jogging to hug my brother. He looked the same as the day he’d left Boston, except for the beard. “Matthew.” I sighed as we finally embraced. “You made it.” He said before placing a kiss on the top of my head. “Barely.” I joked as I pulled away, “You can thank him.” I said as I gestured to Joel. “Who’s that?” He questioned. I bit my lip, “Uh, his name is Joel. He’s Tommy’s brother. We found out both of you were here and he offered to let me travel with him.” I could see Matthew’s jaw clench before he let out a deep, “Mhmm.” I studied his face, wondering why he seemed to have an opinion about Joel before even meeting him. 
Matthew and I caught up as Tommy and Maria did the same with Joel. They’d brought us to the restaurant in town and Maria gave him and I two plates of food. My eyes widened and my mouth watered as I eyed the first square meal I’d seen in years. “Where did you get this stuff?” I asked as I stabbed a piece of fresh broccoli with my fork. “We have some crops. We managed to get some seeds through a trade.” Maria explained. I nodded in understanding, my mouth too full to give a verbal reply. As he and I scarfed down the food, I noticed my brother staring at Joel, who had sat next to me. “So, Joel, things go well on the road with my sister?” Matthew asked as he crossed his arms. Joel’s eyes left the plate and traveled between Matthew and I. I gave him a reassuring look, hoping it would encourage him to answer. “As well as they could go.” Joel said before shoving a bite of food in his mouth. I bit my lip nervously, hoping Matthew would just take the answer and end the interaction. “And what do you mean by that?” He questioned. “Matthew, please.” I blurted, unable to stand the tension any longer. He pried his accusatory gaze off of Joel and back onto me, “Can I talk to you outside, sis?” I eyed the other witnesses of the interaction. Tommy sat with an eyebrow raised, and Maria’s face was stone cold. I huffed impatiently and got up from the table, not bothering to push in my chair. 
“What is your problem, Matthew?” I seethed as he pulled me around the corner of the restaurant and into the alley. “I’ve heard things about that man,” He whispered, “He’s killed people, sis. A lot of people. He did all sorts of illegal shit in the QZ. Did you have any idea who you were travelling with? Did he hurt you?” The words left his mouth in a panicked flurry. “Where did you hear those things?” I asked. “Nevermind that. How stupid can you be to travel across the country with a dangerous man like that?” He prodded angrily. I stared at him for a moment, unable to believe the fact that I’d travelled across the country to save him and I was being yelled at about who I chose to do it with. “I travelled hundreds of miles to find you, and all you can think to say is this shit?” I scoffed. “He’s dangerous.” He said after taking a deep breath. “He may be, but who isn’t, Matthew? Who hasn’t killed to survive these days?” I argued. “He killed for the wrong reasons. He’s a smuggler, a raider.” I shook my head, “No. You’re wrong.” My brother’s face dropped in realization. “You didn’t…” He muttered in disbelief. “Didn’t what?” I asked panickedly. “Please tell me that you didn’t fuck him. I swear to god I will kill him right now.” His face reddened with rage, but I pressed my hands into his shoulders, “No, Matthew, I didn’t. I swear. Nothing happened between us. All he did was make up a plan to get us here and he protected me when I needed it. We barely even spoke to each other the whole time. Now will you please calm the fuck down so I can go finish the first meal I’ve had in months?” I begged. The tightness in his shoulders eased after hearing my explanation, and he nodded, “There’s nothing going on between you two?” He asked, needing my reassurance once more. I shook my head, “I promise.” I lied. 
Before Matthew and I could move to go back inside, we heard the door to the restaurant bust open. It was Joel, storming out of the restaurant. He caught my eye and paused for a moment, but kept walking off towards what looked like a stable. The urge to follow was tugging at me, but there was no way Matthew was letting that happen. I followed him back into the restaurant and finished my meal silently as he had a hushed conversation with Maria and Tommy at the bar. 
Later that night, after being shown around more by Matthew, we neared the front porch of the house he’d been living in. “This is it.” He said proudly, “Fixed it up myself.” I followed him into the front door and felt as though I’d walked into a thrift store. Not one piece of furniture went with another. “When did you get your interior decorating degree?” I smirked before plopping down into a red bigham armchair. He rolled his eyes as he reached into the fridge, “I didn’t have much to work with. Beer?” I nodded and reached my hand out to grab the cold can from him. Cracking it open and tasting the malty liquid was a feeling I never knew I missed. 
“You owe me an apology.” I said after swallowing a huge swig from the can. He pressed his lips together as he plopped down onto the hideous floral patterned couch, “I do. ” I sat up, resting my elbows onto my knees, “Three weeks, Matthew. Three weeks without a fucking word from you. I thought you were dead.” He took a sip of his beer then knitted his fingers around it, “We were told to stop contacting outsiders. That they were threats to us.” I flinched, “Threats?” He nodded, “We had too much traffic around the perimeter. Maria decided it would be safer if we kept outside communication to a minimum.” I stared at the floor, unable to look at him, “Your own sister, a threat.” He sighed, “Look, I tried my best to contact you.” I stood up off of the chair, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to be over. “Not hard enough.” I spat as I stalked to the front door, slamming it behind me. 
My mind reeled as I walked aimlessly down the street, my way being lit by hanging lights and trash can fires littered along the blocks. I looked around, attempting to find any building that was familiar from earlier in the day. I spotted the stable I’d seen Joel rush into earlier and figured it woud be empty at this time of night. I neared the door and unhooked the latch before opening it slowly, not wanting to spook the horses. With the tiniest bit of light shining through the door, I caught sight of a beautiful chestnut horse with a white stripe down its face. It reminded me of the horse my uncle owned on his farm. “Hi there,” I whispered as I offered it my hand to nibble. 
I’d been so deep in my own head that I hadn’t noticed the sound of voices traveling from somewhere outside the stable. Itching with curiosity, I stood on a hay bale and put my ear up to a hole in the wood. “I don’t want to hurt her, Tommy. After Sara, after Tess… I can’t do that to her.” My heart sank when I realized it was Joel. Who was Sara? And Tess? “It’s safe here, Joel. If you stay, you’ll have the opportunity to start over… like I did. I’m gonna be a father in a few months. And to be honest I’m scared to death. But I don’t know… I think I’d be a good father.” Tommy said. “I guess we’ll find out.” Joel sighed. Tommy clearly didn’t like that response, “I guess we’ll find out? Maybe you think your life stopped when Sara died, and believe me, I thought mine did too, but I found a way to start it again. You can too.” Joel scoffed, “It won’t be as easy for me. You’ve never lost a child.” The men’s voices became more intense, “I lost her too. I was there, Joel, remember?” Tommy grunted. I gasped quietly, the realization that Joel had a daughter, maybe even a wife before all of this. It all made so much sense now. 
I’d been so focused on the conversation that I hadn’t noticed the hay slipping out from under my feet. Before I could regain my footing, my boots lost their grip and I tumbled to the ground. I couldn’t stifle the shriek that escaped me as I felt the pain in my ribs all over again. “Shit.” I grunted through clenched teeth. The men’s voices turned to silence, and I heard footsteps outside of the barn. I tried to get up, but was dizzied from the pain in my abdomen. The door creaked open, and a flashlight shone in. My name left Joel’s mouth as he caught sight of me. “The fuck are you doin’ in here?” He grunted as he placed his flashlight down and pulled me to my feet. I swallowed. My mouth felt like it had been filled with cotton. “I uh… had a fight with my brother. Just needed somewhere to think.” He looked at me through the light peeking in through the door. “The hell did you do? Your nose is bleeding.” He said before reaching up to my face. I pulled away and pressed the sleeve of my shirt to my nose. “I’m fine.” I insisted as I used the wall to pull myself up. “You’re obviously not.” Joel grunted. “Joel? What was that?” Tommy asked as he appeared in the doorway. Joel and I’d heads snapped to look at the figure. “Everything alright?” Tommy questioned again. “Yeah, I just… tripped over something in the dark.” I said. “Well what were you doin’ in the first place?” Both of the men looked at me, then Joel turned to his brother and said pointedly, “She had a fight with her brother. Needed some peace and quiet.” Tommy shook his head and shrugged defeatedly, “A congratulations would have made things a whole lot easier.” I stood there awkwardly as the two men shared a tense look, and finally Tommy disappeared from the doorway after huffing angrily. 
“I’ll walk you home.” Joel said as we exited the barn. “I’d rather sleep in the stable.” I scoffed. He looked at me, seeming annoyed at first but his face quickly twisted into concern. “Jesus, your nose is bleeding like hell.” He breathed as he reached into his pocket to try and find something to wipe it with. His attempts were fruitless and he dropped his hands to his side. He looked to be struggling with something internally as his eyes shifted between me and the house we were standing in front of. I waited patiently, holding my hand to my nose to stop it from dripping onto my shirt even more. He sighed, “Dammit,”  and grabbed my arm before leading me into the house. “Joel, you don’t have to-” I tried to argue, but he pushed me onto a chair at the island in the small kitchen. He stalked over to the sink and wet a rag, then pulled a chair over to sit in front of me. “You’re always gettin’ yourself hurt.” He grumbled as he pressed the rag to the base of my nose. I winced at the contact, and his eyebrows furrowed as he focused on cleaning up the blood. “‘S probably broken.” I didn’t respond. Between the lightheadedness from the pain and the feeling of Joel being close to me again, I didn’t have much to say. For the first time, I didn’t feel patronized by him helping me, didn’t feel like it was some sort of peace offering. He wasn’t doing it because he had to, he was doing it because he wanted to.
I couldn’t help but watch him intently as he focused tending to my nose. He subconsciously leaned closer and closer, and I was able to feel his warm breath on the bare skin of my chest, causing goosebumps to rise there. All of a sudden, Joel froze. I’d been so distracted I hadn’t noticed my hand moving up to rest on the forearm of the hand that he was using the rag with. My first instinct was to pry it off panickedly, but that wasn’t what this moment was about. It wasn’t about instinct. My instinct was always to run away from the uncomfortable things, and it seemed like that was Joel’s too. It was about facing our fears. Joel had pushed his fear of caring for someone aside, and it was my turn to push through my fear of intimacy. 
My eyes didn’t leave his as I pushed down on his forearm, lowering his hand to the table. His face was inches from mine, and soon milimeters away. I hesitated, but was encouraged by a hand on the back of my head pulling me into a gentle kiss. He pulled away and looked at me in a way that seemed like he was asking for approval. I answered his question by standing off of my stool and pressing my lips to his once more. His hands moved to grip my waist as our lips began to move together, our desperation for each other taking over once more. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he pulled me closer so that I was standing between his legs. His hands slid underneath my shirt and traveled up my back, his fingers gently gliding across my skin sent shivers up my spine. His hands continued up onto my neck, lingering there, then tangled in my hair and pulled at it lightly. I bit his bottom lip as I pulled away and looked into his eyes. They were staring at me hungrily, and widened slightly as he felt my hand press up against his firm length through his jeans. I felt him twitch against me and watched his face as I began to rub him gently. His eyes closed and he let out a long, heavy breath. His obvious pleasure fueled my fire and I leaned in to close the gap between our lips again. He met me with just as much hunger. I pulled lightly on his jacket to get him to stand, and pushed him backwards towards the couch. He stumbled backwards, drunk with lust, and sat down. He practically worshipped my body with his eyes as I stood over him. I straddled his legs and sat down, pressing myself against his excitement. His hands slid up the sides of my thighs and onto my hips as I instinctively grinded against him. He breathed into my ear as I leaned down and pressed gentle kisses into the scruff on his jaw. My hands traveled down to the hem of my t-shirt and I began to pull it over my head, but Joel caught sight of my bruise again and was pulled back to reality. “I think that’s enough for tonight.” He gently pushed me up and off of him, “I think.. you should get some sleep. I’m sorry, I lost control.” He stood and adjusted himself through his pants. I couldn’t help but feel rejected again. “Was that another mistake?” I scoffed. He glared at me, “You know it wasn’t.” I sat all the way up now, facing him, “Then why did you stop?” I pressed. “I didn’t want things to get out of hand.” He said as he plopped down on the couch and slid his hands down his face. “What does that mean?” I questioned again. “You know…” I rolled my eyes, “Joel.” He groaned, now fully backed into a corner. “I just don’t want you to get attached.” He finally said.            There it was. The familiar feeling of my stomach dropping. Of course. Of course he would find a way to ruin this, just as we were connecting further. “You don’t need to worry about that.” I spat as stood up walked towards the door, and as my hand gripped the doorknob he finally spoke, “Where are you goin’?” I turned around and hooked my hands onto my hips, “To sleep in the stable in the hay. Like the baby Jesus.” He rolled his eyes at my attempt at comedy and stood up off the couch, “You’re not sleepin’ in a stable.” I straightened my back as he approached, “What do you care? I thought we weren’t getting attached.” He placed his hand on the door frame above my head, “You’ll annoy the horses.” I saw a smirk threaten the corner of his mouth, and a full smile stretched across mine. For the first time in months, I almost laughed.
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Author's note:
Hi all! Sorry for the wait! Finals are coming up and I've had a lot of school work to do, but I've been trying to work on the fic as much as possible. <3
Taglist:
@demonsasss @ayamenimthiriel @ashleyfilm
Masterlist
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“his hand so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face”
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broyi · 2 days
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maicenaconmate · 2 months
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scene from S1 C4
So yeah, just a sumary of Naruto's plot, and spoiler: he does fix him.
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celluifleur · 4 months
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fictional men: *murders millions and is a literal war criminal"
tumblr girls: "i can fix him<3"
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poltoreveur · 4 months
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“He’s a villain! You only like him because he’s hot.”
Okay and?
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unfruitenhiver · 9 months
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This took five hours :p
I might make it into a print
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venusbyline · 8 days
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i can fix him (no really i can)
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orochiposting · 2 months
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“I can fix him dw” [drill sounds] {screaming} [chainsaw revving]
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weeinerville · 2 months
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hi does the disco elysium fandom accept me
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ldr-is-my-life · 18 hours
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strawijuice · 3 months
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If bad why hot 🛐
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midnightsslut · 10 days
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religion is one of the most prominent recurring themes on the album, and it has been present in some capacity for quite a few records now. taylor previously compared love to religion: her saving grace, her belief system, and a fated divine intervention (false god, cornelia street, and cruel summer are the best examples of this). ‘sacred new beginnings that became my religion’ and ‘we’d still worship this love even if it’s a false god’ are two of the defining statements about her philosophy on the lover album.
taylor doesn’t want to leave all of that behind on ttpd, at least not at the beginning. the first supernatural force she mentions is the spaceship on down bad, which she compares to a skylight of freedom in the epilogue. *something* has finally come to save her from her life of suffering. she doesn’t care if it’s a force of good at first; if anything, she’s just fine being taken away by aliens. she views this man as her destiny. it isn’t until guilty as sin? that taylor starts to ponder the moral implications of what she’s doing. is she guilty as sin for wanting to leave her previous religion and relationship behind? she comes to the conclusion that, even if she rolls the stone away and gets resurrected/redeemed, she cannot avoid the fallout. she is okay with the thought of having to wait, as long as both lovers vow to be together forever, just as she once did with someone else in false god. ‘I choose you and me religiously’ finishes the bridge of the song in a direct callback to cornelia street.
the next mention of religion has murkier imagery. she claims that she does not need the Lord’s help to save this man. she sees the halo that he has, and she can fix him herself. now that she feels free of her prior cage, she isn’t looking for divine intervention anymore. she wants control. she is their route to salvation.
when the relationship falls apart, she retreats back into the position of a believer rather than a divine figure. she compares him to a Holy Ghost who promised to save her and take her to heaven. instead, she is in hell in every sense of the word: she’s down bad and feels guilty for digging up the grave. he was a jehovah’s witness who promised that she could break free of the cage imposed by love without changing her religion altogether; she would’ve just had to switch denominations. she could still have a marriage and kids! she could still have a blue tortured poet! the man was different, but not the dreams they had together. the story of the first part of the album ends here. her faith has been broken, and she has only found any semblance of sanity by refusing to mention these belief systems altogether.
side b/the anthology blends the christian imagery of side a with goddesses, sorcerers, and prophecies. she bargains with these powers to let her have the future she wants (the prophecy). she doesn’t sound like someone believing in salvation. if anything, she feels cursed. she decides that the concept of divinely ordained timing will never work in certain relationships (‘the goddess of timing once found us beguiling / she said she was trying / peter, was she lying?’). this disdain extends onto her perception of other people’s faith (‘bet they never spared a prayer for my soul’). she does position herself as a prophet in cassandra, but even then, she admits that the role has hurt her. perhaps the pain in thank you aimee was meant to be, or perhaps she was just strong enough to build a legacy in spite of it, boulder by boulder. is she a martyr? does she want to be? or did she save herself?
the only real love song on this half of the album makes no mention of fate or any divine forces. it wasn’t meant to be. it’s not a supernatural invisible string or lightning in a bottle. she is just in love.
the album ends with the manuscript, which revisits an old story of a defining, formative heartbreak. as she sings ‘at last, she knew what the agony had been for’ while describing the legacy of her writing, she seems to revert to thinking about the purpose of trauma. the only exception is that, in this case, she is the one who found meaning in her pain by turning it into a manuscript. writing is her belief system now, and she proselytizes by telling her stories and thus giving up the manuscript.
ultimately, her belief in destiny has chewed her up and spat her out. she so desperately clung to her existing belief systems that she was fooled by a conman, which left her feeling cursed. religion is supposed to be with someone even in their darkest moments, but the album explains that taylor often felt abandoned. the only constant in her life was, well, herself. she’ll be okay, but her pen will be her saving grace.
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eraenaa · 13 days
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I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
Inspired by the song "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" by Taylor Swift
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Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.
Warnings: Substance Use, Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Mention of Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Choking, Boobjob, Filmed Sexual Relations, Not Proofread 
Word Count: 2,372
A/N: Sorry for being MIA finals week was rough and I was kinda burnout hence the almost month long hiatus but Taylor's new album revived me, so maybe expect more works inspired by TTPD songs!
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You sat quietly as Rafe rested his warm hand on your thigh. You waited for him to finish his drink as he laughed around with his boys at the bar. Their voice echoed through the establishment, garnering curious glances from the other patrons present. You feel him squeeze your thigh tighter, his little signal that he wanted some affection, maybe a kiss or a touch from you. He turned to you, pupils enlarged from the little pill he took, “Are you bored?” He asked, and you quickly shook your head, placing your hand on the back of his head, and ran your nails gently against his skull. “No, baby,” You murmured and moved to kiss his lips, tasting the brandy on his tongue. Rafe parted from your kiss, looking intently into your eyes to see off you lied; he seemed satisfied enough and returned to his conversations with his friends. 
You hear the offensive joke that Rafe said a bit too loudly and held your breath. Placing your hand on his shoulder, hoping it would snap some sense into him, it usually did. You feel pitying and feared glances pointed towards you. The bartender to your left shook their head and muttered, “God help her,” when they realized you were with Rafe. A man who was notorious for his rage and ill temper. He was often perceived as rash and maybe even psychotic. Perhaps their judgment of him was true… but that is what attracted you to him anyway. You could not help but be intrigued by him and his imposing and reckless demeanor. You were certain you could tame him. You said to yourself, “I can fix him; no, really, I can.” 
He drove the both of you home. A bit of a misjudgment on your part, seeing how intoxicated he was, but there was something thrilling about him taking the reigns while still addled with dopamine and alcohol. There was something seductive in the way his hand would trail upward and upward on your thigh as he raced down the streets of the Outer Banks. But there was something different this night. There was tension in him that did not come from the lust you and him were succumbing to. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking hold of his arm, caressing it in a way that made gooseflesh rise on his flesh. You bit your lip as his hold on you was tighter; you were certain it would once again leave his mark. “Everyone in that bar was looking at you… they were looking at what’s mine.” He snarled and pressed flat on the gas, making you speed down the streets so carelessly, but you could not find care as that elicited a wave of want in you. “They were only looking…” You trailed, testing to see what reaction it would garner from Rafe. 
You watch him shake his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. “They were looking at what’s mine. They were practically undressing you with their eyes— imagining stealing you from me,” He gritted as you were nearing home. You voiced your disagreement, but that only seemed to enrage him more. “You enjoyed it, didn’t you, huh? You fucking enjoyed their attention.” Rafe accused, and your eyes darkened at his words. Just as the rage in him burned quickly, it died in a snap. You removed his hold on your thigh and stole away your touch on his arm. You did not wait for him to open the door of the passenger seat for you but instead got out of the confined space you were trapped in and left him. “Baby, wait, I—“ Rafe called, any irritation in his voice gone the moment he realized he had offended you. 
You were nearing your bedroom door, ready to lock him out for the night and repent for his offense, but he caged you in his arms, pulling you close to him. Burying his head at the side of your neck, he offered his apologies. “I’m sorry baby… I just don’t wanna lose you,” You hear his muffled boys. Smirking to yourself as you actually got an apology from him. From all the stories you heard of Rafe, ranging from his family to his friends and even his past flings, not one of them got an apology or anything that resembled half of it from him. But here he was, saying sorry over and over again, waiting for your reply. You kept silent for a while longer, and you felt him move over to the front of you, trying to kiss your lips, but you moved your head to the side. You bit your lip as you hear him puff, surprised by his following action. You watched Rafe sink down on his knees and hold you tightly against him, burying his face in your abdomen, his apologies spewing out from his mouth as if you were a god to whom he offered his prayers, pleading to be heard. You sighed and ran your hand through his hair, hearing him soothingly hum and burrow his head deeper into your abdomen.  
You were about to urge him to stand, but you were rendered frozen, and your breathing hitch when you feel his fingers take hold of your dress, hiking it higher. “Rafe,” you called as his lips trailed kisses on your exposed skin, his breath teasing your core that had already been aching for him. “I’m sorry,” He said once more, and you could only sigh as he placed a kiss between your thighs. You held tightly onto him as he lapped your folds, showing you just how sorry he was. “Rafe… Fuck, Rafe,” you called as he inserted a finger, but you were already on the verge of an orgasm by just the way his nose burrowed into your nubbin. “Do you forgive me, my baby?” Rafe asked, and you could only moan out your agreement and hear him hiss as you pulled on his hair and came down hard on his fingers and face. 
You hummed as you woke the next day with Rafe tracing hearts on your face; he had been watching you sleep. You gazed at him through the hazy sight of the fresh morning, “You look so pretty when you sleep,” Rafe said softly, and you smiled up at him. Gone in his system were the substances that were his ruin, but he could not deny. You quite liked him in this state, but you knew he would rather have his mood be altered by opioids and any other drugs that he believed would aid him. It won’t. And you just need to change that outlook of his or at least find another drug that would not be his ruin. 
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“You’re mine,” Rafe gritted in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he realized every bastard at the party was staring at you. “I’m yours,” You repeated to calm the rage in him. He did not consume anything harsh or damnable per your request, but you were starting to rethink your decision because apparently Rafe, without his usual pick me up, was rather more paranoid and frantic. Every little interaction you have with the opposite sex pushes him closer over the edge. “Rafe,” you sighed as he stepped away, challenging a guy whose gaze had been flying to you the whole night. “The fuck you staring at, huh! Do you want a fucking fight, bro?! Stop staring at my gi—“ Rafe screamed, and you pulled at him with all of your might for him to face you and save the innocent man from being beaten up to a pulp. You turn to Rafe’s friends, urging them to help, them being the able-bodied ones to escort Rafe outside to calm down. 
You stood before him as he sat by the ledge of a planter box. His head was in his hands as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. You stood silently as he took out a box of cigarettes and hastily lit a stick. “Stop looking at me like that,” Rafe spat, and you furrowed your brows at his words. “Like what?” You asked, and Rafe shook his head and took a long drag of a cigarette. “Like you’re disappointed! I know that look all too well,” He scoffed, and you took in a deep breath, stepping closer to him. Squatting down to meet him at eye level, placing a kiss on his cheek, and your hand found home at the back of his head again, running your fingers through his hair, noting how he would lean into your touch. “I’m not disappointed,” you say in earnest, but Rafe scoffs at your words. “You are. Don’t lie to me.” He gritted and threw the bud of his cigaret onto the ground, the glowing embers slowly dying down like the rage in him. 
“I never lie to you,” You say softly, placing your hold on the side of his face. “I’m yours, Rafe,” you say softly. “You’re mine.” He answered back. “Exactly. Then why are you trying to fight those others who are completely insignificant to us?” You ask softly, brushing your thumb across his brow, watching as his eyes fluttered close and a sigh left his lips. “Because I know what they want. I know they want what’s mine.” He gritted, tensing in anger once more, his fists clenching and warning danger. “But they won’t get to have it, won’t they?” You asked and stared deeply into his ocean eyes as they opened once more. “No. Never.” He swore, and you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. 
Kissing you was the greatest high Rafe felt. The high he now realized was the only one he’d want to chase. Nothing chemically and artificially induced could compare to your lips. “Let’s go back inside,” Rafe said after your kiss had sedated his rage. “On one condition,” You said and stood your ground as he tried to pull you back into the direction of the party. You pulled him to you, flushing your bodies, and returned your hand to caress his troubled head. “No more invoking fights? Stop glaring at those guys?” You asked and watched as he frowned at your words. “I… I can probably do no more fighting— but baby, come on, they keep staring at you and—“ You shook your head and interrupted him. 
“Be a good boy tonight, and later… I’ll do what you’ve been asking me to do since last month,” You hindered your grin as you watched Rafe’s jaw turn slack, his eyes now intoxicated and dilated with the thought of you. “What do you say?” You asked, batting your lashes at him, trailing your fingers against his forearm, your eyes already catching a glance of the dent in his trousers. “I’ll be a fucking angel if you want.” He almost growled. And you let him usher you back to a party with a smile beaming on your face. 
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Rafe kept true to his word. There was practically a halo around his head for the rest of the night. Foregoing his pilled and powdered remedies, even tossed out the intoxicating liquid in his glass. You thought miracles never happened, but Rafe even let you join your friends on the dance floor without him. You saw as he reigned in the hellish thoughts in him as men around danced by your side. Instead, he stood still in his spot, his mind on the thought of heaven you’ll present him if he played nice. 
You, too, kept true to your words. You were on your knees, your hands pushing your tits together, and in between them was Rafe’s cock. A video camera by your side as Rafe had been begging you almost everyday for a home video together. Reasoning that ‘it would be a reminder of you when you are away.’ And the thought of you is the only thing that gets him on. “Fuck, baby— god, you’re so good. How are you this good?” Rafe groaned as you fucked him with your tits. It was the best reward for him, you rarely gave him head, and this was the first time you ever fucked anyone this way. Rafe fisted the sheets as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock again. He moaned out your name as you took him deeper into your mouth, the sound of you gagging on his cock spurring him on. But before he could come, before he could reach a different and higher level of high he always sought, you pulled away. 
“Baby… oh, baby, please, you can’t do this to me,” he almost begged, his eyes in a daze at the sight of you messy from sucking his cock. You crawled upwards and hung from his lips, him already expecting a kiss. “Fuck me in the shower,” Was all you said before you hastily dispread to the bathroom and turned the faucet on. It took a few moments for Rafe to process your words, but once he did. He quickly stood, took the camera, and positioned it to point toward you, who was already soaking wet. 
Rafe was quick to push you against the glass shower door, already excited to watch the video of you and your tits against the glass. “Yes… oh, god, like that,” You cried as Rafe mercilessly pounded behind you. He gathered your hair and gripped it back, eliciting a burning yet pleasurable sensation. “You’re always so prim and proper… but looked at you, you fuck like a whore,” Rafe gritted, and your eyes rolled back as he positioned his thrust to hit the spot that made your words incoherent. “You like that, huh, baby? You like it when I fuck you, dumb?” He asked, not expecting a reply but rather your moans. Rafe relinquished his hold on your hair and instead gripped your throat. Pounding harder into you as he felt you clench tighter around him, your body shaking and on the precipice of orgasm. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” Rafe gritted out as he, too, was close. “Yours. All yours, Rafe.” You cried as you came around him. Panting his name as he clung in the high that was you. 
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I screamed when I first listened to the song that inspired this fic, bc Rafe was the most prominent thing that it conjured in my mind.
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littlepinksapphire · 8 months
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People can make the “I can fix him” joke about Astarion girlies all they want, because you know what? You CAN fix him! In a world of unfixable men, Baldur’s Gate 3 is a haven for the broken, the beaten, and the damned
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