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star-girl69 · 5 months

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The Last Time

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

Part One - The Last Time

Part Two - Cowboy Like Me

Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)

Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)

Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)

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synopsis: the last night you spend with clarisse before she goes on a quest

a/n: had to put my own take on the clarisse leaving reader behind to go on a quest SORRY Y’ALLLLL this is like devastating fr tho i’m kinda sorry like 😭

The Last Time - Taylor Swift (Feat. Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol)

warnings: angst, like so much angst i’m gonna say it 5 times, angst angst angst angst angst, angst, hurt comfort and also hurt NO comfort bc i’m evil, kissing, cutesy until it’s not but it never really is, i felt like choosing pain, y’all should start calling me she-devil this is just so mean and evil, swearing, fighting, allusions to death, daddy issues lol, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

June 4, 12:08 PM

It’s a cold summer night. You sneak out of your bed, sheets slipping off of your shaking body, the same memories playing in your mind. It always comes down to this, the nights.

In the dreams, she doesn’t come back to you, and the nights without her are so cold, so lonely, so horrible you can stand it. They’re only in your mind, but they hurt just as bad. It’s not every night you slip into each others beds, but whenever you have a nightmare, you find your way to hers. Whenever she has a nightmare, she finds her way to yours.

You both have nightmares about the same things.

The usual cryptic prophesies, the various monsters you just can’t seem to kill, and losing each other. Demigods die. They die easily. You both know that.

Some people swear off love.

And Clarisse told you she wishes she could, she wishes she could pretend you aren’t her entire heart, but she never had a choice. You are her Achilles heel, her one weakness.

You couldn’t either. You took one look at the beautiful daughter of Ares and never looked back again.

Still, there’s a certain desperation in every demigod relationship. Touches are just a bit tighter, hugs a bit longer. Because you all have lost so much, and you all feel absence heavily. Every time could be the last time.

Your footsteps creek against the porch of the Ares cabin. You open the door only a crack, slipping in silently the way you always do, avoiding the creaky floorboards.

Clarisse is awake in her bed, the corner of the cabin. She’s staring at the moon fiddling with her fingers. You frown, but Clarisse turns to you.

You’re sure you look as wrecked as you feel.

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs. “C’mere, what happened?”

You always ask each other, but you both know.

You crawl towards her, sitting in between her legs, arms around her neck, head pressed to her chest. She holds you up so you don’t have to. You can’t, not right now.

She kisses your forehead and her hand smooths down your hair.

“You went on a quest,” you whisper. You miss the way she stiffens. “You didn’t come back.”

She doesn’t tell you she’s not going on a quest. She doesn’t tell you she’s going to come back.

“I’m here,” she says. “Do you feel my heart? I’m here, and I feel yours. It’s beating so fast, baby, you have to take a deep breath.”

Tears well in your eyes. You dig your nails into her soldiers.

“Oh, Gods, please don’t leave me,” you cry.

She doesn’t tell you she won’t.

“I’m here, I’m here right now. I’m here right now, listen to my heart, baby, listen to my heart.”

Clarisse swallows back the bile in her throat. She tries not to lie to you, she tries. But sometimes, on cold summer nights when you find your way into her bed, and she doubts you’ll remember this in the morning-

“I’ll always be here, Y/N. I’ll always be here.”

—-

June 11, 5:46 PM

If you thought the nights without Clarisse were bad, then the days are even worse. You miss her. You never realized how much she was there, silently, always watching, not until you told her to stay away from you.

You sit at the dinner table, the sun setting. Most of your siblings have left- but you’re here with May, sitting there as she watches you like a hawk and interrogates you.

“You haven’t been the same. Not since, like, last week. And something happened with Clarisse, it’s obvious. I gave you a few days because I thought you were just having a fight, but you’re not.” She sighs and grabs your hands. “What happened?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” you dismiss. She stares at you with such heartbreak in her eyes.

May is the sibling you’re by far the closest with- you like similar things, and people sometimes think you’re actual full-blooded siblings because you look so alike. She was the first person you ever met at Camp Half Blood, and after Clarisse, she’s the first person you run too. But now that Clarisse is leaving, and she’s already gone, May is all you have left.

You squeeze her hands. Your best friend, you want to tell her, but saying the words aloud makes them real.

She’ll find out tomorrow.

—-

June 8, 10:57 AM

She tells you privately, she smiles softly and leads you into the woods, she holds your hands and touches your face and kisses you like she’s not about to break your heart.

“Why are you bringing me out here?”

You know her like your own mind. You spend so much time with Clarisse, next to her, it’s like you have a window to her heart tattooed on your arm. You know, even when she doesn’t want you to.

“I just have something to tell you. And I wanted privacy.”

She doesn’t tell you it’s not a bad thing.

Your stomach sinks and you hold her hand tighter, and even though she’s about to break your heart she kisses your cheek and squeezes your hand.

“Just you and me, pretty girl. I just wanna talk, okay?”

She leads you to a clearing with a beautiful view of the strawberry fields and you smile, sitting down and letting your face feel the sun. You can feel her looking at you, but the beauty of this place and each other only blinds the two of you temporarily.

“Okay, what do you have to tell me?”

There’s stones in your stomach. Your heart is squeezing, you can physically feel the tension and anticipation in your organs.

You look in her eyes and you pray to every God that it’s nothing.

“I love you, you know that?”

Clarisse never says I love you, and your stomach twists more.

“Of course I know.”

She lays down on her back and opens her arms. She sighs when you lay your arm over her stomach, head on your chest. Her hands grip onto you tight.

She doesn’t speak for another minute, like she’s just soaking you and the sunshine up, like it’s the last she’s ever gonna get.

“Chiron… a week ago, I think, he called me to the Big House.” You hum, staring at the treetops. “Him and Mr. D… they… uh.”

“You can tell me,” you pretend you aren’t scared.

“A quest,” she blurts. “They have a quest for me.”

“Oh,” you mumble, stupidly.

A quest could mean a million different things. It could be an errand for Chiron and Mr. D, or it could be something preordained by the Fates.

She could have a choice or she could not.

“It’s three children of Ares. It’s about some sort of ancient blood feud between my father and- it doesn’t matter. But it- it doesn’t look good-”

You sit up. She follows you, eyes wide, hands splaying around where your body used to be on hers.

“‘It doesn’t look good’? Clarisse, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

She grabs your hands. “It’s dangerous, like any quest-”

“It’s not like any quest though, is it?”

She presses her lips together. “No. No, it’s not.”

“You didn’t accept it, did you?”

She stares into your eyes.

She looks so pretty today, her hair half-up half-down. Her eyes always shine so brightly in the sun- they reflect it. Sunny days with her make your heart squeeze, because it always looks like she’s got suns for eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I am-”

You tear your hands away from her.

“Why- why would you- Oh, my Gods, Clarisse, why would you do this?”

You cry, and she reaches for you, her face twisting into something painful. But how can she expect you to run to her when she’s the one hurting you?

“Just- just not right now. Not until the 13th, let’s just have this together, okay?”

“How, Clar, how?”

She grabs your hands and doesn’t let you pull away.

“My father asked for me, he asked for me. I have to go. I can’t refuse my father, Y/N-”

You rip your hands away. “He doesn’t care about you, Clarisse. But I do. I care about you.”

She rubs her temples with one hand, the other still reaching for you, eyes screwed shut.

“Please don’t be like this. Don’t be selfish, I have to this. He asked for me, Y/N. This is such a huge step-”

“A huge step to him loving you? He’ll never love you. Our parents will never love us, because they’re incapable of caring about us. But you have me, Clarisse. You have me, and I love you so much-”

“You don’t know that,” she whispers. “You don’t know they can’t love us.”

“And neither do you.”

She reaches out to touch the tears falling down your face.

“Clarisse, please,” you cry. “I’m here. I’m always here, and just- just don’t put your father over me, please don’t, not anymore-”

She grabs your face. “I’m not going to choose between you and him.”

You’re full on sobbing now, and Clarisse never cries, but just the look on her face at seeing you cry makes you cry more.

“But I’m here, Clar, I’m here, I’ve always been here, please-”

She shushes you and tries to hug you, but you can’t, not when your mind is spinning to fast, not when you want nothing more than to be in her arms because you know if she just holds you then you’ll shut up and forget. But you can’t, you can’t, not this time.

Not when all the pieces are sinking together.

The only time you see her is when you sneak into each others beds, dates in the woods, secret looks across the courtyard, pulling each other into the bathrooms or sheds or something to make out.

You needed her so bad you didn’t realize that you were never first. You didn’t care, but at least she was still there.

“Did you even think about me when you said yes?”

She tries to hug you again. You stand on shaky legs.

“Y/N,” she whispers, half-broken, half-disbelief. “Don’t do this.”

“I just need a day,” you say, but you both know what this means.

She laughs, runs her hand through her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Fuck, I know it’s not perfect, we’ve never been perfect, but I need you right now. Don’t walk away. Don’t be like that.”

“And if I asked you not to walk away? If I asked you not to be like that?”

“I’m not being like anything!” she yells. “You’re the one who’s being a selfish brat.”

You cross your arms and look at her. You want the ground to swallow you whole. You want to jump into her arms and never leave.

“Don’t, okay. Just don’t. Stay, and we’ll talk, I’ll try, you know I’m not good at this but I want to try, we have to try for us.”

“Clarisse, there’s no us anymore. You’re leaving.”

“Not until the 13th, Y/N. We could have something so good if we just… pretend.”

You could play pretend with her for hours. You could be married and you could live in a place where no monsters can touch you, where there’s no one to hide from. Where there’s no memory of her father, no axe hanging over you.

“I don’t want to pretend. I want you.”

But it’s Clarisse. It’s the girl you love, and you’re young so you believe you can fix this.

“Don’t go,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

You’re both glaring at each other, stupid teenage girls who fell in love too hard too fast, and now you’re scrambling at the world changes around you. You love her so much, but you finally realized that she doesn’t care about you, you’re her secret, and you haven’t had a backbone for so long but you will have one now.

“He asked for me. I already accepted. I need you right now, so stop being selfish and accept it.”

“How am I being selfish? How am I being selfish for not asking you to kill yourself? For asking you to put me first, for once?! You never put me first. I see that now. You never-”

She scoffs. “We both know that’s not true.”

“But I don’t, Clar. I don’t know that’s not true. So tell me, show me, make me believe it’s not true-”

She crosses the distance between you, even though it feels like a thousand miles, and plants her hands on your face. She kisses you, she kisses you like she loves you but not enough to stay.

But you kiss her back. You kiss her back, because she’s the love of your life. You’ll always come back like a kicked dog, like a ball on a chain. You’ll always come back to her like you go back to your bed each night- mindlessly, wordlessly, because it’s routine. Because you sleep in your bed and you need sleep to live, you need her to live.

She pulls back, breathing heavily against your lips.

“You are the only person who matters to me.”

Your grab her wrists and take her hands off your face. She tries to resist you, keep touching you, but it’s halfhearted because she’ll always end up doing the little things that you want.

“Only because the Gods aren’t people.”

“Y/N, stop.”

“Why do you go back to him? Why? Again and again, you go back even though he feels nothing for you- and you know it-”

She steps back, takes your hands off of her wrists.

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe, you see the hurt on her face. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t, it’s just, I love you-”

She blinks and stares at you like you just broke her favorite toy.

“I-I should go.”

You want her to say something, you want her to protest, you want her to kiss you again.

“Maybe you should,” she agrees. “Before we both say more things we’ll regret.”

Her face twists back into what she lets everyone else see, that hard mask of indifference, of cruelty and ruthlessness.

How can she hold you so tenderly and look at you like this? How can you pretend you’re still the girl she loves when the fog clears and you realize what you said?

“Yeah.”

You turn and leave the clearing, you can’t look at her hurt face anymore, tears streaming down your face. Clarisse stays there. You swear you hear the sound of muffled crying.

—-

June 12, 3:46 PM

Chiron announces the quest. It’s dangerous, that’s what he says, and he didn’t want to cause commotion in the camp by letting it come to light.

Are you horrible for wishing you had found out now? You would have had this untainted time with Clarisse. You would have loved her. You wouldn’t have had to pretend, because it would be real.

She’s selfish at every turn. She only tells you when it’s convenient for her to tell you, when she knows it’ll ruin it, ruin you, and lose this time together.

Her and her siblings stand next to Chiron.

She stares at you the entire time, and you don’t look at her once.

May hugs you when she hears, and you don’t speak, because how can you speak when everything is wrong? Everything is broken?

The mirror is broken, and what you thought you saw is no longer there. You only see your shattered self.

—-

June 13, 12:38 PM

You lasted maybe 20 minutes. You went to bed early, slept fitfully for a few hours, and woke up gasping about another nightmare- the same one you had the last time you slipped into Clarisse’s bed. You barely remember the nights you have nightmares, but you always know you go to her bed and she holds you, tells you it’s alright.

The dream, anxiously waiting for her to come back, spending your nights alone but warmed by anticipation and hope- and she just doesn’t. She doesn’t, and it all becomes dark and dull in the dreams and they turn into nightmares.

You cry and you scream and you curse the Gods for not bringing her back to you, but no one can hear you. You’re laying in your bed screaming and your siblings are gone, you know Clarisse is, and you feel so alone.

Feeling so alone it makes your bones shaking is terrifying. And you should be used to it. But you got used to Clarisse and her warm body. You got used to her touches, her words, the way she made you feel even just being in her bed- you could always sleep in her bed because she was there.

After she leaves, would anyone notice if you snuck into her bed? Would anyone notice if you laid your head on her pillow and pretended it was her chest? Would anyone notice if you slept in the shirts she left behind?

You last 20 minutes staring at the ceiling before you’re up.

You don’t care if Chiron will catch you. You don’t care if the entire camp will see you, you never did, but a private relationship was nice. It was yours and hers and no one else’s.

Private is different from secret.

Your feet sink into the soft grass, wrapping your arms around yourself, legs freezing in a cold breeze. You stop, looking at the Ares cabin.

The Ares cabin is just a house full of the best fighters at camp. Everyone looks at it and feels a little safer. You look at it and feel safer.

You’re filled with dread but you don’t care, because you know she’ll let you in, you know she’ll let you into her arms.

The door to the Ares cabin whips open.

Clarisse is there, feet turned left, toward you and your cabin behind you.

She stops and stares.

“Sorry,” you breathe. “It’s your last night, and I…”

“I know,” she says.

You step forward, all you want is to forget, all you want is one more peaceful night. As soon as you step up onto the porch Clarisse grabs you and pulls you in tight for a hug.

Her hands are spread wide across your shoulder blades, her body is pressed to yours, her head hooks over your neck.

“You’re so cold,” she whispers, because that’s all you can say when you don’t want to talk about the things that really matter. Of course she’s warm. She’s like your own personal heater, always warm and always comforting.

She lets go after a moment, hesitantly, but winds your fingers into hers. She leads you to your bed, you avoid the freaky floorboards better than her-

“I never have to be quiet in here,” she whispers. “It’s funny.”

You hum, she urges you onto her bed and climbs in behind you. You face the wall, breathing in heavily, shivering as she wraps herself around you. You didn’t realize how cold you were until she was holding you.

You didn’t realize how damaging this relationship was until you were so wrecked by it.

You didn’t realize how much you loved her until she was leaving.

You can feel her wanting to say something.

“Shut up,” you mumble, holding her hand.

She laughs.

“Okay, whatever you want.”

You remember this might be the last time you’ll ever hear her laugh.

This might be the last time she ever holds you.

“Don’t cry, please,” she begs, kissing the back of your head. “If I can’t talk you can’t cry, I hate when you cry.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, shoving your face into her pillow.

“Hey, hey,” she murmurs, flipping you around so you’re facing each other. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You don’t think she’s ever apologized this much in her life.

“It hurts me too,” she continues, you press your face into her neck and feel yourself exhale against her warm skin. “If it didn’t have to be like this…”

“It doesn’t,” you mumble. “It doesn’t have to be like this, so don’t let it, Clarisse.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she whispers, her voice cracking just a bit. So quiet only you can hear it because you’re pressed up right against her.

You want to just climb into her, make a home for yourself in between her ribs where you could always feel her heartbeat and always know she’s there.

“Can’t I just come with you?” you cry.

She grabs you a little tighter, like she’s annoyed just by the thought of you being in danger. “No, Y/N. No, you’re going to stay here at camp, and you’ll be safe. I made my siblings promise to look after you, you’ll be okay without me-”

Her siblings are the only ones who know, but that’s only because every once in a while Clarisse won’t let you leave and you’ll oversleep and they’ll see you in her bed.

She swears them all to secrecy and as their cabin leader and their sister, a fellow child of Ares who’s doomed to want someone they can’t have, doomed to hide in the shadows- there’s so many campers who sneak into the Ares cabin at night, and you all ignore it.

There is a certain desperation with demigods and love. Every time could be the last time.

You wish you could swear off love, you wish you could, but Clarisse has you so wrecked you can’t breathe without thinking about her. You run on her, like she’s coffee or sunshine, she’s the IV stuck into your arm, and you don’t want to imagine living without her.

You think of a future without her and it’s just blank.

She holds you tighter and let’s you cry, louder and louder, muffled into her neck. She says she’s sorry but she doesn’t mean it, she can’t, and you don’t care. You can’t care, not right now, not when this is the last time.

“But I’m here right now, okay? I’m here right now, so just listen to my heart.” You grab onto her, trying to keep her here with you- but she won’t. She’ll go. She’ll leave you, and there’s nothing you can do.

You realize with such a startling finality that this is the last time. How deeply you feel it in your heart, not a pain but just an ache, an emptiness- it’s almost beautiful how it washes over you like a wave, like your heart stops and you’re just left a shell.

You breathe in wildly, but you can’t catch your breath, not when she’s half-here, you’re stuck in this hazy reality. Fading in and out. Her heartbeat. Her breath. Her touch. Her voice.

“I’m here right now,” she says. “I’m here right now,” and it’s the last time.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

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DID WE HAVE FUN OR DID WE HAVE FUN?!?!??!??

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

699 notes · View notes

vamphrrr · 4 months

Note

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

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fanfictilltheend · 25 days

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

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

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

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

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

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel grins.

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

***

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

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

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

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

Joel’s face flattens.

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

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

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

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

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

You smile to yourself.

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

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

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

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

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment.

***

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

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

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

You nod off.

***

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Typical.

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

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

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

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down.

God, you are so fucked.

***

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

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

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

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

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

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

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

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

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

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

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

The butterflies in your chest howl.

***

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

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

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

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

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

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

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

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

“Jeez,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

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

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

You look into Joel’s eyes.

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

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter.

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

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

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

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

You blush.

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

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

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

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

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

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

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

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

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

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

“Right here.”

***

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

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

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

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

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

***

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

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

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

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

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Max frowns ever so slightly.

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

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

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

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

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

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

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

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

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers.

That makes you feel a bit better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Max never loses.

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

You know it’s over then.

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

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

You shiver and Max positively cowers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joel flinches.

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

He stares at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too,” you giggle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

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

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

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

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

He snickers.

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

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

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

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

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

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

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

Joel looks flabbergasted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering.

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

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

You grin, but then your face falls.

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

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

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

You shiver.

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You happily fall backward.

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

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

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

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it!

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

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

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

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

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

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

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

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

inside your body.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Joel does stop for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When your words come back you reply,

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You think about it for a second.

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

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART 1

PART 3 (coming soon)

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

Tags:

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

@denileisariver @lochnymph @mewantpeepaw. @fandomdaydreamer @r3dheadedwitch

@paanchusblog @prettystrangething @untamedheart81 @kotourasan123 @valkyreally

@lunpycatavenue

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chaosandmarigolds · 1 month

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you can skip this all u want but

I wanna know abt readers ex ngl

why does Ollie have attachment issues?

you seem like you could do soft angst, 👻

(I audibly giggled like a maniac when I opened this, because angst has my heart. it has my HEART- only when it ends in fluff tho, otherwise someone might as well just shove me in a ditch it feels the same- ahem, sorry, got sidetracked)

Let’s do a lil flashback and backstory to this whole…debacle shall we?

May 20th

“Annnn then we got get- got get, noo-no! Ister Riley no,” Ollie grumbles as he reaches over the block castle he had spent the last twenty minutes building to grab the toy Simon was holding- a tyrannosaurus, or as Ollie called him- The Superman. The little boy fixes the doll cape attached to the toy and then holds it back out, “Otay, is fix.”

Simon nods, “Good good, he needs to have his-his-“

“The cape gives him powers.”

“Oh!” Simon agrees and looks at the worn out toy, the cape like it would be found on an actual Superman toy but put on a dinosaur. He only looks back to Ollie as the boy goes on about grabbing the rest of the toys he thought they should have.

“Yeah, that what my daddy tell me. That-that my superhero cape make me have superpowers.” A short silence and he sets the toy fire truck down along with a tow truck, “It no give me power, but it does for Bo though.”

(Bo, the name of the T-Rex.)

Simon looks at the boy, watching his demeanor change and he holds how the toy, “‘ell your dad was right, Bo does have some super cool powers.”

To that Ollie takes the toy and then shrugs, “I guess. But my dad- he-he lies and you say lying is not good.”

“Ladd I’m sure your dad didn’t lie,” Simon returned, it was just a toy, and he couldn’t see the harm in letting a three year old believe in superpowers for his plastic T-Rex.

Ollie shakes his head, “But he do! He said he come back for-for my birthday and no come, he didn’t-he lie.”

“Oi, Olls, ‘m sure your dad wanted to come, he just couldn’t-

“My mom doesn’t like him anymore, I heard her talk to my Auntie Beth and she said my dad is lair and mean- so that mean he not good.”

Simon, upon a lot of other things, realized that little kids really did share anything that came to their mind. and that he should definitely do some more research.

July 2nd

“It is-“ you laugh out a sigh as you stumble into the entrance of Simon’s house, having left your umbrella outside, “Raining cats and dogs out there!”

Almost as it had fallen into some odd and domestic pattern, he helped you take off the coat and hang it off without much speaking and you then look to him as you take off your boots, “Thank you for watching him later, I didn’t know I would be working a double and it-“

“No problem, darling. Lil’ guy was out by seven.” He cut you off and hung up the coat beside Ollie’s on the rack, which hung beside his own, “You go’ dinner al’eady?”

You hum and stand back up, “Are you offering?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Dinner was a delicacy of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and oven cooked fries, matched with a hearty portion of sprite. And about an hour of what you would consider you yapping about your crappy day, and what he would consider it favorite part of the day- you finally faltered, leaning on the dinner table with a dull and lifeless laugh.

“I feel like…I owe you, god, I owe you my life or something.”

He furrows his eyebrows to that, “No’ why? ‘M no doing anything special.”

You give him a look, “Free babysitting for one. Not to mention the rides, you-you pay for him to go to soccer, and you go to the games and you buy him clothes and you love him and you care for him and-“ you cut yourself off and look up to stop the tears- which were threatening to flow, shaking your head, “I’m sorry. I’m…it’s just- no, it’s just been a day.”

Now, Simon was many things, a merciless killer and a solider was one of them but he always knew how to read body language. What really gave it away was how you messed with your ring finger, as if you were twisting a nonexistent ring, “What’s today?”

A glance up to him and you give a dull laugh, almost mocking yourself with your words, “I got married five years ago today. Wore the pretty dress and said ‘I do’ to a man that was a piece of shit but damn….i loved him. I did. I loved him so- and I’m, god, Simon you gotta tell me to shut up sometimes.”

He looks at you, and he knew you couldn’t read him, but there was sadness etched in his expression, “I never want you to shut up, luv.”

( That’s all the backstory you get for right now! Aka, I am doing this on my phone and my thumbs hurt…and all I’ve thought of rn- comments, feedback, and your ideas make my day!! Annnnyway that’s it! <33)

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spookyscaryjasper · 2 months

Text

the reason why I'm so in love with league of villains is pretty simple. they are all freaking losers

dabi:

- theatre kid

- has terrible skin

- embodiment of daddy issues

shigaraki:

- gamer

- has terrible skin

- and definitely issues with parental figure

toga:

- a little bit hyperfixated high school fangirl

- probably writes fics about herself and uraraka (and occasionally izuku)

- she has a good skin tho i give her that

- and mommy issues

twice:

- his character arc is build on the fact that he's loser

spinner:

- the guy is basically a lizard

- knowing his love for stain i would say that he has watch To Much of true crime

mr. compress:

- embodiment of old school gay man

- pretty stylish gay man i can respect that

kurogiri:

- Tired Guardian Figure (TM)

ngl i absolutely love some of the hero and support characters *intensive stare at hatsume* but those freaks speak with me in a whole new level

they're pathetic little fuckers and (not to be dramatic) i would die for them and their dynamic

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #mha shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #bnha dabi #dabi #spinner mha #toga himiko #twice mha #mr. compress #kurogiri

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fox-mulder-gets-pegged · 11 months

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Been spending my time lately thinking of a House MD au where, through a series of accidents and lies and a bet he didn't rly intend to win, House ends up as a registered foster parent (he's still addicted to Vicodin and his normal dickish workaholic self but for some reason he cleared the requirements and trust me he's as stunned and mildly concerned as everyone else is).

Through further Shenanigans™, he ends up accidentally getting handed fostership of not one, not two, but three hellish but brilliant kids:

1. This total smartass 16 year old named Robert Chase who yeah he's a bitchy teenaged boy and a former rich kid and Australian with enough mommy and daddy issues to reawaken Freud after his dad dipped and absconded all parental rights and his mom drank herself to death, but he's also got a nice car left over from his rich kid days and an eye for detail and weirdly enough his best friend/mortal enemy (some other teen named Eric Foreman) and his on again off again girlfriend (Allison Cameron, totally won't last if u ask House) both work at the hospital as a candy striper and after school in the cafeteria respectively so House can get all the inside gossip from Chase. Plus Chase has no problems breaking and entering into patient's homes which helps bc since he's not employed by the hospital Cuddy can't complain as far as House is concerned.

2. A 14 year old girl who only answers to Thirteen (House knows he could look her name up in her file but honestly it drives Chase nuts that she won't tell him her real name and that's good enough for him) and who's dad was declared unfit after the death of his wife to Huntington's devastated him. She's a total nightmare, snarky and quick witted and freakishly smart even tho she puts most of those smarts towards things like shaving Chase's entire head (eyebrows included) bc he's trying to grow a sucky teenage mustache, and trying to take House's wallet bc she keeps calling him Old Man and he informed her he's actually only 25 but the stress of fostering has aged him prematurely and she's like 95% sure that's a lie but she wants to check his license and make sure bc everyone lies. She loves tormenting Chase by telling him his best friend and/or his girlfriend is hot and asking if they're single.

And 3. This 6 year old boy named Lawrence Kutner who's weirdly cheerful considering his parents got killed in front of him. He's way too chatty and excellent at puzzles and the only morning person in the entire house and therefore frequently tries to make breakfast (he likes to be helpful and he hasn't burned the place down yet so House doesn't feel the need to stop him). Once he told House he was gonna build a Death Star in the living room and House said lol sure go ahead whatever, only to return home from work to discover Kutner called himself out from school and has a huge wooden frame made of broken furniture in the living room. House rly can't argue since he did say go ahead. Benefits of fostering a 6 year old are 1. The babes love it, 2. Free excuse to leave work early/come in late/not show up at all, and 3. Justification for buying juice boxes and Ritz crackers. The neighbor kid Taub is his go to babysitter bc his mom volunteered him forcibly and Taub is lowkey praying that babysitting Kutner could lead to an in at Princeton Plainsboro once he graduates high-school and finishes medical school (it won't, House doesn't believe in nepotism unless it benefits him).

The adventures of House and his Foster Ducklings mostly revolve around being a Found Family, but do involve frequent plots such as:

House fired his brand new fellows again (he tosses em every three or so months, he hasn't found The Right Team yet) and will sometimes bring his foster kids in, hand em doctors coats, and tell patients that they're just a bunch of medical savants here to consult yes even the 6 year old he's actually Harvard's youngest graduate ever.

House sends the kids to break into a patient's home. They refuse. House tells them the first one to find black mold or lead paint or a dead animal or whatever gets $20. They agree. Chase drops Thirteen and Kutner off at a bus stop across town and drives over himself so he can get an hour and a half head start (ultimate fuck them kids moment, however Thirteen did steal his wallet so guess who's paying for lunch and their taxi ride to the patient's house? Net loss.)

Cuddy demands House does his clinic hours. House sends his foster kids to do his clinic hours for him. Tfw you go to the free walk in clinic for a sore throat and a cough and your doctor is a 6 year old boy who keeps asking for help with spelling whilst filling out your chart.

Wilson babysits them one (1) time since House doesn't trust Chase not to throw a party or sell his foster siblings on eBay if left as the one in charge. He wakes up with a big strip of hair poorly bleached right down the middle. Chase crushed up stolen sleeping pills and mixed them into a juice box, which Kutner 'innocently' offered to Wilson. Thirteen was going to bleach and dye his whole head blue (for practice, she wants to dye her hair but she's certainly not gonna fuck up her own hair until she has the method down) but Wilson woke up pretty quickly due to years of House drugging him. Wilson has not offered to babysit again.

Anyways this is my House Foster Ducklings au which I'm thinking about actually writing. Thank u 🫡

#house md #greg house #robert chase #remy hadley #lawrence kutner #i just think Chase and Thirteen and Kutner are the most House's Actual Kids out of all the fellows #give that man three incredibly smart self reliant kids with issues™#i do imagine a plot where House does overdose of vicodin #and the kids find him #and they're in the hospital #and House has to contend with the fact that he either has to give the kids up to better homes #or make smarter choices bc it's unfair of him to be overdosing and almost dying when he has three traumatized kids relying on him #love when there's some middle aged guy whos like 'no im not a dad' but has a gaggle of kids following him around #feel free to message me about this au

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redrosesandcharmingsouls · 3 months

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“Alicent would be a conservative religious trad wife in a modern AU-“ WRONG .She would be a popular girl in high school who is too kind to be a toxic girlboss but does have a very weird codependent thing with Rhaenyra where she feels jealous of her but is still devoted to her and is afraid to step from her shadow ,whilist having a crush on her very controversial ex Criston ,and then they become besties after her and Rhanyra’s dramatic falling out which was showed when Alicent started to wear green (color Rhaenyra said they couldn’t wear on Monday) .Her and Larys have a lot of weird things going on like he is obsessed with her in a very weird way but he is one of the few who stayed after her falling out with Rhanyra and she kind of likes him and has compassion for him and they gossip a lot (Criston is invited) and he is helping her to become class president .Until something weird happens to Harwin (he doesn’t die tho) .She still has daddy issues and her dad is still pretty much grooming her into making a good marriage and choosing a career e that will help her make money (literature teachers don’t make money) and some brother angst as well (Gwayne feels sooo much jealousy towards her) and she is still a good Catholic girl who is defineteky not a bisexual who has very clearly pent up rage and trauma and really wants to stab people .

#alicent hightower #hotd #house of the dragon #modern AU #criston cole #Larys Strong #Rhaenyra Targaryen #otto hightower #gwayne hightower #I have thoughts of her as an adult but this AU was funnier #hotd text #viola.txt

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spongek-squidge · 3 months

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My Headcannons for which bachelor(ette) is the most intimidating on first meeting

90% self indulgent headcanons 10% canon, let me have my fun~

#1 Shane

We all expected this one

Gruff old alcoholic man is not a very trustworthy or comforting persona

Also he’s rude when first meeting people so that doesn’t helps

Only reason he doesn’t completely scare people off is cause he’s baby faced (this fact annoys him greatly)

#2 Sebastian

Emo boy who lives in his mums basement, smokes and owns a motorcycle?

He’s literally the kid everyone’s parents told them to avoid

No matter if you love that bad boy persona or not there’s still that intimidation around it, ya gotta admit!

#3 Haley

She’s very mean

Literally comes off as everyone’s Highschool bully when you first meet her

She’s also just intimidatingly pretty on top of that so…

Pretty much a tie with Sebastian tho, I only put her lower because pritty gurl

#4 Alex

He a buff mysoginstic boi!

He’s like chill when you meet him but the bias leaks off him like the sweat when he’s exercising in his bedroom

Literally just a highschool jock, you move into town and think Haley and Alex are gonna be the biggest asshat powercouple

In reality they’re just some confused queers with dual mummy and daddy issues

#5 Abigail

Goth gfs are inherently a bit intimidating ngl

Also she just has a lot of energy and an urge to fight, that’s a fairly intimating combination-

Also if she could drive a car she would have biggest road rage, she got those vibes about her

#6 Harvey

Okokok hear me out

Ik he’s a big sad wholesome man but he’s also a doctor and anyone who sticks with the education system that long is a bit intimidating ngl

Also he’s a very tall boi and if you combine that with my head canon of him being dad-shaped it can give off an unintentionally intimidating aura!

Also people just don’t like going to the doctors so that won’t help

#7 Leah

She works out and it shows

It’s hot af but also a bit intimidating ngl

But she’s too chill for that to put her further up the list so here she be!

#8 Elliott

He uses big person words that I don’t understand

Big people words intimidate me

Words are powerful

But also I could easily beat him in a fight so he’s lower down than Leah

#9 Maru

One of her favourite objects is radioactive ingots

Need I say more?

Most of her intimidation comes from Demetrius being an overprotective cockblock tho, so it’s not as much her as her father

#10 Emily

She gives off chill aunt/cousin vibes

However she is also high as a kite 24/7 and that level of zoned out can be a bit freaky, especially when she zones out staring at you

She’s fine tho, would never take drugs that make her act up in a negative way

#11 Sam

He is a golden retriever and you can tell from the second you meet him

Big smile constantly and no thoughts behind those eyes

Only intimidation he could ever possibly have is the skater boy stereotypes, but other then that he’s got no negative vibes whatsoever

#12 Penny

I’m sure we all saw this coming, but she’s really not intimidating at all

She’s a shy woman that just wants to teach kids and read her romance novels and I love that for her

If she needed to intimidate someone she’d have to summon her mum to do it for her, no chance she’s scaring anyone herself

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley headcanons #sdv harvey #sdv penny #sdv haley #sdv leah #shane sdv #doctor who #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv sebastian #sdv maru #sdv bachelorettes #sdv bachelors

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lucifers-rubber-duck · 2 months

Note

Hello, hope you’re doing well! Really loving the Hazbin posts you’ve done so far, they’re wonderful ☺️

If it’s alright, could I please request some platonic HCs with Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Sir Pentious for a slightly younger reader than the rest of the cast who’s on the shy and anxious side, very easily rattled in hell, but takes a liking to their fellow demon(s) enough that they feel comfortable around them to express themselves a bit more and start to develop a sibling/parental sort of bond with them?

Sorry if that’s a bit specific of a request, but thank you for reading!

A/N: I'm sorry for taking so long Anon but I absolutely loved your ask! Shy!Reader is so me tbh. Hope you enjoy it.

𖤓Charlie

• She's mostly concerned about how young you are, not that you're a teenager or something, but the age you died is concerning since you're younger than anyone at the hotel.

• She's an extrovert so she might not notice how shy you are at first because she's just so excited to have you around that she is already showing all of her hotel to you and wishing you a good stay.

• Even with that bubbly personality of her's, it's actually pretty easy for you to feel comfortable enough around her to express your feelings, she's just so sweet like that. You feel like you can tell her all of your problems that she would listen to carefully within a day of meeting her.

• She's the type to be a sister figure, she's always trying to make you open up more with weekly trust exercises and besides her looks wouldn't hesitate to put a demon in their place if they treat you badly. She considers everyone at the hotel family, but you're the one that needs most protection out of them, so she's going to be the best host you could ask for.

𖤓Vaggie

• She's the least chaotic of the people in the hotel, she likes to solve things calmly and sometimes with brute force but only when it's necessary. Your more timid demeanor is a breath of fresh air from all these sinners full of themselves.

• She's the one that gets more rational the moment she sees you're not dealing very well with the things around, she gives you space and time to be comfortable around the place, especially because she feels that you really want to change for the better. She also calms Charlie down when she's being too excited around you.

• She wants to help you be more sturdy tho, Hell is a dangerous place and you need to fight for yourself, so she gives you private fighting lessons on basic self defense, she can get a little too aggressive while training but if you actually get hurt she'll say sorry and help take care of you.

• The way she makes you feel welcomed is very different from the others, she makes you feel safe, she protects you from Angels comments and teaches you how to stand up, she's just like an older sister that wouldn't hesitate to kill for you and has a strong sense of bonding.

𖤓Angel

• He finds you almost adorable, he probably just enjoys having someone that kinda looks up to him as an example, you almost envy his personality and how easy-going he seems to be, he enjoys the attention and praise.

• Will eventually grown attached to having you around but he's very good a not showing it, he's an actor for a reason after all, but he can still be very sweet with you and sometimes even protective, not so much, but he'll tell a demon to suck a dick if they are mean to you.

• He helps you try and lose up more, be more extroverted, he takes you to drink on bars or go to clubs so you can try to make more friends. He can easily get distracted if Cherri is also there and might not notice if you get uncomfortable at first, but don't be afraid to tell him that you want to leave, he won't be mad at you and will do as you ask.

• He really makes you feel like you belong, especially when you two are just doing skin-care and telling gossips, he feels like a older brother and you appreciate how much he takes care of you.

𖤓Sir Pentious

• Daddy issues? Naahh, this man got child issues if that's even a thing. He craves for the feeling of having a child like it's something he misses deeply without even knowing why, so the moment he realizes that you, the shy one of the crew is looking up to him he's being all clingy with you.

• He tries to look cool, something that either he fails at or his Egg Bois do it for him, he wants to make up to your expectations towards him because you're one of the little people who treat him nicely. You mainly admire him because besides being a little timid like you, he's a very intelligent inventor.

• He makes you gadgets for your self defense and makes sure one of his Egg Bois is always following you to keep you safe, they can't do much but are very useful as bait so you can run while they get attacked.

• Expect a bunch of drama and dad jokes coming from him, that's his way of trying to sound cool and reliable to you, he wants to be a good father figure or whatever figure you need and that's what makes you feel so welcomed and cared for when you're around him. Make sure to give him a hug everytime he does nice things to you, he appreciates it.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #angel dust x reader #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie x reader #hazbin charlie #vaggie x reader #hazbin vaggie #vaggie #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious #hazbin sir pentious #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel imagine

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keis-slut · 8 months

Note

hi i love ur writing!!! can u maybe do a fnaf sb kink/fetish headcanon thing? all characters pls 🥹🤍

OH MY GOD??????⁉️⁉️⁉️

DOING IT RN YES???⁉️⁉️⁉️

i’m going to try my best to put EVERY detail i possibly can in this and explain as much as I can, just give you guys a feast LMFAO.

FNAF SB CHARACTER KINK HEADCANONS (NSFW)

GLAMROCK FREDDY

-fuck, y’all…

-i think he’s the most inexperienced of them all, but once you get him started, he knows EXACTLY what he’s doing for some reason. he just does it all right, and so good too???

- he’s oddly always horny though, but feels embarrassed when he does stuff to himself, and honestly isn’t a big fan of it

-he’s the sweetest in bed and mostly vanilla, but if you tell him what you’re into, he’ll immediately like it and do whatever you ask, he’s here to please you

-this even includes being nasty, mean, degrading you, surprisingly

-as much as y’all might roll your eyes at this next hc…uhm he be rolling his eyes back when you call him daddy, let’s be fr.

-he loves the idea of his “father figure” personality turning to a sexual thing as well and getting someone off.

-if you have daddy issues, freddy fazfuck is here to help.

-he loves being called daddy and seen as superior or in charge, never in an abuse of power kinda way, but a protective way, even though the idea does get him off.

-he loves receiving oral SO much, just watching the way his cock disappears behind your lips, he finds it so beautiful to look at.

-he finds you so beautiful to look at

-he also loves playing with your hair (platonic or romantic), like when cuddling, or holding it back prettily as you suck him off

-he’s obsessed with the noises you make, he loves hearing you moan for his cock, especially when you get so loud he’s forced to see the sight of your mouth being covered by his large hand.

-also he’s not the biggest possessive or jealous type, but he can’t lie and say he has never thought of possibly the others hearing you scream “daddy!” loud and clear from his greenroom.

-the vibrations of your moans on his larger hand almost makes him go completely feral, but he manages to keep his composure.

-he’s not very loud himself, but he does a lot of praise of how good it feels and he’s more of a talker

-telling you how well you’re taking him, calling you pretty names, always making you feel good

-“my pretty superstar, taking daddy so well…such a good girl”

-he’s does kinda grunt a lot though, he mostly just holds back on his noises so he could hear you

-he’s all top, you’ll never see him as a bottom and i don’t think you guys want that anyway

-you’d rather be calling him daddy as his fazcock stretches ur fazpussy

-he WILL beg you to ride him though, he’s obsessed with you in his lap, up and down on him, the way your hips move. reverse cowgirl is good too, still gives a great view of your hips.

-he loves your hips, GOD, he loves your hips.

-did i say he loves your hips?

-grabbing them with his big hands while you ride him, feeling you move and leading you as you take him.

-definitely a thighs kinda guy. hips and thighs.

GLAMROCK CHICA

-OKAY UHM.

-i feel like she comes off all cute, girly and innocent and everything, but she’s into A LOT.

-and they’re “weird”, maybe even taboo.

-cunnilingus at its finest, she’s in love with women, even tho i hc she’s pansexual.

-she’s also a switch but more of a massive top.

-she loves when you can surprise her sometimes and be top, she finds it so amusing, but will slowly melt if you keep going, letting you take control.

-LOVES BOOBS

-she’s so fun during sex though, she giggles a lot and jokes around, it’s the best when you can fuck, laugh, and fuck again like nothing happened.

-with her love for eating, and food, and her being used for food representation for literally ever, i have this small (reallybig) idea that she’s indulged in the feederism community to a degree.

-i just have a feeling she loves the idea of getting you drunken and sleepy on eating a lot, then fucking you all drowsy.

-this goes for aftercare too, she also loves just snacking a lot with you or even feeding you, giving you snacks to try etc.

-this also goes for her obsession with squeezing all the right places (like her loving boobs, she’ll squeeze them constantly) but even with thighs or hips/waist, like love handles, or if you have the cutest tummy. she loves tummies.

-the idea of you begging her to let you finish, omg, she’s so into edging she’ll keep you going all night.

-she praises alot though, loves calling you “good girl/boy”, telling you how good you’re holding up for her, as it’s been almost 2 hrs of edging

-she just loves admiring you while she makes you feel good

ROXANNE WOLF

-100% top, don’t fight me, im right.

-and she’s a lesbian LOL she loves pussy

-loves calling you pup, read my roxy smut RN.

-needs you to be begging for it.

-absolutely needs to be doggy style, no pun intended, she’s such an ass person, she has to see that RECOIL.

-rough as fuck, hard, fast, animalistic thrusts.

-she loves when your brain cannot keep up, she’ll call you her braindead little bitch.

-as you can see, she’s into degrading. her praise is extremely limited during sex, it’s very rare and when/if it does come out, it needs to be taken lightly, it’s all false sympathy.

-even though she’s extremely degrading to you, she needs you to praise her during sex. has you telling her how well she’s doing, how good she feels, who you belong to, etc.

-“tell me i’m the best, say it, now, filthy bitch” “you’re the best, you feel so good, fuck!”, “more please, im all yours! I belong to you!”

-“and this pretty pussy belongs to who? tell me, pathetic pup” “you! it’s all yours, roxy!”

-aftercare is very different, she uses sex to be absolutely disgusting to you, but she will do ANYTHING for you after sex to make you feel like a queen, she’s the sweetest and most caring ever.

-she knows that you know she means nothing she says to you during sex.

-she has every single toy you could think of, she’s a huge toy person. she probably has like 5 different sets of strapons and 20 different dildos.

-loves when you wear a remote control vibrator during a show and she can see you squirming right in the front row as she controls it, how you watch her perform, begging her with your eyes to either stop, or make you cum already.

-uhm she shows off a lot so she’ll leave marks all over you, more than likely using her teeth on your neck, so others know you belong to her and they know who’s marks they are.

-she’s not into choking much (unless you are), she’s more into grabbing a fistfull of your hair and pulling your head back while plowing you from behind. she needs you to arch your back inhumanely just for her.

-although, ironic, she does have a collar and a leash which is the closest you’ll get to being choked by her, using this is convenient since you’re more often going from behind. she loves the control.

-also never pull her hair. ever.

-she’s extremely possessive, she would never want to share you. you’re hers and only hers. don’t ever talk about being poly or having threesomes or anything. chicas joked about it before and roxy almost ripped her beak off. she’d never let chica join, or anyone for that matter. you’re hers.

-so she’d be more than happy to let anyone else watch her pound what belongs to her, and dream.

MONTGOMERY GATOR

-lord help me.

-prepare to be destroyed, just like his greenroom.

-he’s so into the idea of seeing how big he is inside you. like

-tummy bulge>>>>> ,uhm yes

-will fuck and overstimulate you into a screaming mess, he wants you to make a mess of yourself

-he’s into bodily fluids and stuff, i don’t even know if i should say it all bc i’m sure you know, but he wants you to let it ALL out. make a mess of everything, everywhere. and he’ll fuck you until it all comes out.

-and just like roxy, he’s also mean during sex, and degrades alot. he’s not as nice as roxy during the aftercare though, but he still cares alot. he’s big and scary but can be a big baby at times.

-he’s into noncon, also somnophilia, just the idea of taking advantage of someone so little like you.

-this includes size kink too, he loves how small you are compared to him.

-face fucking and head pushing !!!

-all of this is also ofc WITH CONSENT he’s really not actually an asshole, he’s respectful.

-he’s the type that would have a threesome, probably with roxy, the idea of both of them using you like that has him feral. (roxy only agreeing to this in a world where you’re montys and not hers, cuz again, she’d never share you)

SUN/MOON

-sun is submissive, moon is dominant, im just gonna start with that obvious point.

-sun is a begger 100%, and is always looking for attention, doesn’t matter how, but he will beg.

-SO good at finger fucking (it’s like the only thing he could rlly do tho, he can’t eat you)

-his slender fingers just curl and reach all the right places, and he loves praising.

-but his praise is a lil scary, it’s like overly happy praising, he’ll just be in complete awe constantly, thanking you over and over again for the experience and letting him touch you.

-lots of moaning, he’s so loud and won’t shut up.

-he loves when you take control and tell him what to do to you, yknow?

-also uhm call him a good boy for doing what you asked and see what happens.

-“put them in, now curl them-yeah, like that, good boy, sun, good boy”

-he’ll melt completely, he’ll giggle uncontrollably, his wires and gears clicking and twitching in excitement as you ride his fingers.

-he cannot ever keep his hands to himself like he’s always gotta be touching you, he’s OBSESSED.

-definitely obsessive type, clingy asf

-MOON, OKAY SWITCH THE PERSONALITY.

-some of sun is still the same with moon, like moon is definitely also OBSESSEDOBSESSEDOBSESSED with you.

-(like monty) somnophilia, next.

-this includes getting himself off to you asleep^ (consensually ofc)

-also good with fingers, same as sun, although is more driven by the look of the mess you’ve left on his fingers.

-always fascinated by seeing how many he can fit and how much he can stretch you out. and he thinks you’re so pretty down there, he’s a starer.

-he would most definitely try and keep an item of your clothing and always smell it, your scent never failing to get him off.

-into praise degradation, like calling you pretty, followed by something derogatory.

-his fingers, like i’ve mentioned, you’re both obsessed with them, not only when he fingers you, but he’s so into sticking them in your mouth and gagging you with them.

-fucking you in missionary, he loves watching your tongue swirl around his fingers, and when you suck on them

DJMM

-this is so funny i even have to say this but he loves having music on when having sex, there has to be music

-I also feel like you can never tell when he’s being jokingly flirty with you, or if he’s genuinely trying to be suggestive and serious.

-because he jokingly flirts all the time, this is the reason you have every word to “Careless Whisper” memorized, he loves randomly playing it to be a goof.

-because of how big he is, there’s an obvious size kink, but he’s extremely gentle with you. not like monty’s size kink and the idea of taking advantage of someone so small, his is more like in a cute way, taking care of you, ur so itty bitty.

-I saw this around and on other posts before and i cannot help but agree that since he’s much bigger there’s not much he can do, but so his whole body vibrates? like when you play music so loud in a car, the sound waves and bass makes the car shake and vibrate. yeah like that so uh, he finds great pleasure in watching you rut on his finger as he’s vibrating.

-he loves this so much, he’ll even start messing with you by pausing and playing the music to fuck with the vibrations

-almost like edging you, honestly

-he’ll do whatever it takes to prolong your finish, just so he could keep watching you come undone

-the way your tiny body bounces and rubs against literally any part of him to get off.

-watching this, he gets a great view of your boobs.

-since he can’t really touch you or do a lot to you, he loves when you put on a little show for him while you use his vibrating body.

-making faces, fixing your hair, changing positions, all because he’s watching. he loves to just watch you.

-also uhm he calls you beautiful nonstop???? his fav word to use for you

VANNY/VANESSA

-so vanny and vanessa i find different, almost like sun and moon but obviously vanessa is a person.

-i’ll start with vanny.

-vanny is very dominant, very cocky more than confident.

-vanny does not like being vulnerable at all, so she’ll always take control. this is because i feel vanessa uses vanny to be someone who’s stronger and better than how insecure she actually is, for explanation.

-during sex she refuses to take off her mask, but she’ll take off the rest of her outfit.

-with women, scissoring is a favorite. but she has to be on top, she has to be the one putting the pressure on you, thrusting into you, just be on top.

-more catering towards men (also women if strapon) she likes to ride if it means she’s still in that control.

-just, do not let her on the bottom.

-same goes for handjob (not blow since she refuses to take off her mask), she wants you to be a whining, crying mess for her to let you finish.

-so she’s literally the type of person to listen to whimpering and whining audios of guys LOL.

-same girl.

-huge tease too, she’ll make you actually feel shitty, but if you’re into that then you’ll like it in the moment, so who cares?

-big fan of JOI, she loves to just be bossy and tell you what to do. she’ll never let you take charge.

-also she’ll choke the shit out of you, way into choking/breath play, anything to have you lightheaded and gasping

-also if you ask her, she’ll tie you up too. more into handcuffs though secretly, since vanessa is a security guard type thing.

-so, yeah, vanessa now, uhm

-officer vanessa I-

-I believe you are a switch

-going for vanessa now, i think she’s still got some top in her if you get her riled up enough, she can definitely be a hot dom.

-maybe if you tease her when she’s had a bad day at work or in a bad mood in general, that’s when you’ll get dom vanessa

-and she’d love to be called mommy, oh lord, try that out.

-but that also goes for when she’s a bottom, she’ll whine and cry, “mommy! mommy…”.

-she’s very into oral too, more so into receiving, when it comes to girls

-when it comes to guys though, she’ll be on her knees, she is the headmaster (lol get it? head? master? yeaaahashahahah…)

-she’s like scarily good at giving head

-other than that, she’s quite vanilla, honestly

-she does like a little praise too, like calling her pretty and things like that, telling her how good she feels

-maybe a hair tug here and there

-also possibly the occasional security guard roleplay into sex

I HOPE THESE WERE GOOD‼️‼️

I tried to add as many characters as I could think of, but if there are any you guys would want to see specifically, just let me know!!

I like doing nsfw hcs LOL

#smut writing #wattpad #writers on tumblr #smut writer #writer stuff #fnaf glamrock #vanessa fnaf #roxanne fnaf #fnaf roxy #fnaf sb #fnaf moon #fnaf security breach #fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf headcanons #fnaf sun

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 months

Note

could you do hcs or just some specific scenarios, wtvr that means, about Avery and Jameson with Xander. I love this trio

avery, jameson, and xander head canons

of course! these three literally solo everyone else. not proof read, like always. this one might be shittier than my others cause my period is fucking killing me (and its making me unable to think properly), but i hope you like them<3.

jameson is always teasing them about how he's a year older and wiser.

xander makes them try the weirdest scone flavors ever for experimental purposes. they once ended up with food poisoning.

their interviews are chaotic. an interview once ended with the interviewer suspended from the ceiling doing aerobics. xander swears he had nothing to do with it (he started it all)

xander and avery plant fake spiders in jamie's room bc he's terrified of them. when he sees them he'll start screaming like a girl and jumping

xander and avery call jameson pookie for no reason

avery goes shopping for them because they literally don't own anything remotely fancy that is actually wearable (jamie's shirts are all ripped, and xander doesn't have the time to go shopping)

they hype the fuck out of avery. whenever she gets dressed up for an event, they will start whistling, jumping, and (sarcastically) begging on their knees for her to love them (she already loves jamie tho).

once a week, they watch movies and gossip. the maids and bodyguards at the mansion have a fuck ton of drama going on and xander knows all of it bc of the recording devices and shit around the house.

xander will flirt with avery to piss jameson off and it works (jamie knows xander's just her bhff, though, but he still gets annoyed)

in another post, i said jamie and xander will sometimes go live and it's always chaotic. avery will sometimes join too as damage control (alisa makes her)

when nash and libby have their first kid, the three of them are always competing for the child's attention. they're always trying to prove to the others that they're the favorite aunt/uncle

i said this in another post, but xander wakes them up by reading smut to them.

some weirder fans write fanfic about them and xander either sends it to avery and jameson or reads it to them in the morning to wake them up.

xander has an averyjameson fan account that he posts shitty edits on and uses to spam their accounts.

they were grayson's wing men/woman when lyra (ig) came along

they try to surprise attack/surprise max to get her to swear fr.

xander will buy gifts for avery and jameson and pretend that they're actually gifts from jamie to avery (or avery to jamie). they always get confused when they receive a gift from their 'partner' and its like a pair of boxers with the rock's face on them ("avery" actually gave jamie this once) (idk if this one makes sense)

when barbie's 'i'm just ken' came out, jamie and xander could not stop singing it around avery, begging for her love (which they already have and they know that)

they are so defensive of their opinions. they once started fighting over what toilet paper brand they prefer, and it ended with xander crying over his mommy issues.

when xander is feeling down or isn't acting like himself, they'll bake him scones and send them to him using one of his robots (xander feels really loved when people actually use his inventions)

i don't really know how to explain this one but they play games like 'at least i didn't try to kill myself once' and the other goes 'yeah, at least i didn't almost get bombed once'

xander and jamie are avery's biggest defenders. all of her haters get bashed, blocked, and reported.

they have hoodies with each other's faces on them

xander calls avery "mommy" and jamie "daddy" bc he's always thrid wheeling

they cannot take meetings seriously. they have a groupchat and send each other the most dirty, inappropriate shit you can think of. one of them always ends up laughing or falling off of their chair and alisa gets pissed.

they slap each other's asses. it doesn't matter if they're in public

xander gets really nervous when avery and jamie fight bc they both go to him for advice, and he gets stuck in the middle of everything.

they all have matching tattoos on one of their fingers

they have an obsession with beating guinness world records.

xander and jamie have asked avery multiple times who twerks better.

xander sends the stupidest memes on their gc (like my pain is chronic but my ass is iconic)

they will go around guessing if people are tops, bottoms or switches (avery barely participates but they still drag her along bc when she does contribute to the conversation, its hilarious)

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #avery grambs

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 6 months

Text

Hey.... Heyyyyyy.... How y'all doing.... take the Nimona headcanons that have been rotting in my notes app for the past four months

Ambrosius has kept track of the weirdest things he’s signed for a fan

At the very tippy top is a dinner plate a dog crate and a baby

And by baby I do mean living breathing crying baby

He tried really hard to find something else to sign but for some reason the parents were really insistent on it being their baby

And for some reason he did it

There are hundreds of photos of this infant with a signature on his forehead

And that kid to this day will whip out his baby photos and show people that he was that baby

Multiple knights (cough cough Todd) tried to recreate that situation but it didn’t have the same effect

I feel like Bal gets really bad migraines (which kind of comes with the territory of using your head like a bartering ram)

And when they do happen Nimona and Ambrosius do everything in their power to make sure that it doesn’t get worse

I feel like Ambrosius is stupidly good at video games

I have this little headcanon that books and games were kind of an escape for him

His own personal little oasis from being the golden child with a million expectations and responsibilities on his back

He's not very good at playing with other people tho because he was always scared people would figure out who he was just based on his voice alone (and he’s not wrong for thinking that)

Nimona is also really good at video games (I mean she’s also half of the reason they were invented but that’s a long ass story)

So because I’ve been away for so long I wanted to bless you with my friend's reaction to the movie

Just for some context tho it did take us months to finish because we all have work and school and we couldn’t see each other for a while so if I missed some stuff I’ll add it later

“Aw boyfriends” (When they were on the catwalk)

“Why are they so cute” “they’re literally my otp” and “they have cute banter” (The entire time before the knighting ceremony)

JB: “Oh she’s got Daddy issues huh” Me: “why do you say that?” JB “cause why else would she follow a man”(As they’re walking through the kingdom)

JB: “God what a fake fucking bitch I hate the way she talks” (As the director is scolding the knights)

“He knows him so well”(He hates freestyle jazz)

“It’s his boyfriend” “aw bae why’d you throw a smoke bomb at me” “look how frantic he is to find him” “he can’t shoot look at that face” (the entire subway/market scene”)

JB: “I think this scene is curing her daddy issues and yours” (the alley scene)

(Same scene) KO: “why is he acting like it’s hurting him more?” Me: “Cause that’s his kid” KO: “wow this really is healing your daddy issues”

JB: “What am I even watching?” “I fucking knew it she was such a fake bitch” (The squires video)

“Oh my god he’s so embarrassing” “is he really jealous of a kid” “oh my god the director really doesn’t give a fuck huh?” “He didn’t say that out loud” “but does she?” “No” (Ambrosius freak out)

JJ: “oh my god this is like Archane” Me: “shut the fuck up about Archane” (in my defense he kept mentioning Archane the whole time)

“If I could turn into a dragon I’d never turn back” “same I’d love to breathe cereal” (during the fight)

“He’s so embarrassing why is he dying that dramatic” (proceeds to make fun of Ambrosius' “death” the whole time)

“Did they really upload her confession to their version of YouTube” “is his account name really BalliSTAR?” “Why are they dancing?” “His username is Loins_of_gold? Why is he such a dork??”

JB: “Awe nachos are totally their thing” “he remembered he’s allergic he still loves him!”

JJ: “he’s a knight?” Me “have you been watching this movie with your eyes closed?”

And then we freaked out about Ambrosius saying I love you and Bal not saying it back

We said nothing when Bal pulled a sword on Nimona they kind of just sat shocked

JB kept mentioning the flashback and after it happened all I said was “you wanted the flashback there’s your fucking flashback” while she sat in sad silence

They also just kept saying in shock “that’s her? That’s Gloreth” while I laughed

We kind of spent the rest of the movie in silence until Bal and Ambrosius kissed at the end and then everyone collectively lost their shit

They lost their shit again when Nimona showed back up and JB went upstairs because even tho Nimona came back to life she was still sad

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honorthysalad · 2 months

Text

I'm too tired for a proper introduction. I don't like yoshiki's dad and how he's being portrayed in the manga.

Before ch25, the most we see of yoshiki's dad is from the hgsn light novel’s bonus chapter, wherein we get a lot of focus on the disparity between parental roles and how mothers are expected to care solely for the children while fathers are expected to work for the family. Like that's the problem with their relationship: Yoshiki’s mom wants her husband to *care* about their kids and Yoshiki’s father thinks that solely because he’s their father that the amount of care he’s showing (almost none) is acceptable. She goes up to him, asks if he thinks it's okay that Kaoru isn't going to school, and he just further pushes the responsibility onto her by telling her that surely as Kaoru’s mother she knows best. She presses more for his opinion, and he continues to refuse to think about it, becoming frustrated when she pushes back to the point that when the argument is done he’s hitting tables and slamming doors like a child because talking to his wife 'annoys' him so much.

And the thing is that Yoshiki's mom still currently works. She has a job and is expected to do all the housework and decision making for the kids on top of that, and Yoshiki's dad is the one who is stubbornly clinging to these typical roles because it's upsetting for him when it's pointed out that he's failing as a parent. His wife is practically begging him to care, and he just refuses.

(And it makes sense the disparity gets focused on here because Len didn’t write it.)

ANYWAY, looking at this, it makes perfect sense why Yoshiki doesn't want to talk to his dad. His dad doesn't want to talk to him, slams doors when he gets confronted with the idea he may have to *think* about his kids, and so, if Yoshiki's dad wants to be absent from Yoshiki's life, Yoshiki wants him to be absent too- in all forms. From the moles he's inherited to the supposed similarities between them, Yoshiki wants nothing to do with him.

(There's a misconception going around that Yoshiki's dad beats him. This is from a mistranslation of the light novel; Yoshiki's dad only hits objects. Feel free to write him however you want tho, I know I hardly stick to canon lol. I just wanted to preemptively avoid ppl informing me of that)

But if you’ve only read the manga, then why doesn’t Yoshiki like his father? He… knocked over a glass once maybe? Looked real pathetic getting yelled at? Grabbed Yoshiki’s arm and said some vague stuff about the unuki. In the past people told Yoshiki he was like him. That's what we got of Yoshiki's dad before ch25.

Then in ch25, Yoshiki's dad is some like... idfk? Pathetic little guy who wants to spend time with his family but he doesn't feel like he has a place to belong in the house :( I mean sure he's clearly in the house at a normal time when everyone else is in the house so it's not like he's working insane hours and can never see them, but didn't you know he's so scared of his wife :(((( and look he's actually not a bad parent cuz one time he read Yoshiki a book, and he's got an artistic side cuz he wanted to be a novelist, and he's such a funny little clumsy guy :) also he's got himself a little family tree with daddy issues of his own :))

I'd almost entertain that this is him putting up an act around yoshiki like yoshiki's mom says, but it's pretty unlikely from what we see of him in extras. Len wants us to see him as a person who just struggles to assert himself and that's what causing the breakdown of the family, not what the light novel presents where he asserts himself with his actions, and what he's saying he doesn't care about the family.

It's just kind of frustrating because I liked the examination in the light novel, highlighting the flaws in what’s assumed as a normal family dynamic in Japan, and I think it perfectly fits the themes HGSN explores with maintaining flawed traditions that only work on the surface. In turn what we’ve got in the manga is just… muddled and weird.

#I just really don’t feel that these two different versions line up #like I feel like light novel dad would’ve refused to answer Yoshiki and walked out of the room to avoid the conversation #Prompting Yoshiki to go around him to try and find information #Also how Len can give endless little details on Yoshiki’s dad but can’t even write the words #Grandmother and grandfather above the mom’s head #Hikaru ga Shinda natsu #hgsn #the summer hikaru died #HGSN spoilers #my HGSN shit

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clementine-writes-things · 1 month

Text

"Run Rabbit, Run!" pt.2 - E.N

Summary: After getting sent to Arkham, Edward requests to see Y/n Wayne. The visit is not what y/n expected at all...(this might not be entirely consistent with the first part, but just ignore those parts pls. I have exams soon so I'm balancing writing and college and running on like 5 hours of sleep each day 😭 I'm still rlly proud of this tho <3 I hope u like it)

Pt.1 here pt.3 here

Content Warning: 18+, explicit language, AFAB!Reader, she/her pronouns, egotistical!Edward, stalker!Edward, yandere!Edward, brief mention of suicide, mentions of rough sex, EXTREMELY graphic descriptions of sexual intercourse, sexual content, dirty talk, daddy issues, daddy kink, praising, degrading, choking, slapping, edward referring to himself as a fox and y/n a rabbit, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, mentions of guns, mentions of torture. (Edward is a freak in this. This is kinda like joker/harley dynamic except there is no abuse, it's just that Edward is so fucking charming that y/n is OBSESSED with him.)

Word Count: 7k+

Songs For Inspo:

YOU'RE TOO SLOW (Bonus) - Odetari

Freak Show - Punkinloveee, h3artcrush

I LOVE YOU HOE (W/ 9lives) -Odetari

She' So Nice - Pink Guy

Custer - Slipknot

~Read Below Cut~

Y/n sat on her bed, head in her hands as she wept. Bruce put a hand on her back, rubbing comforting circles. It was a huge blow to her gut. She had fallen in love with Edward over the months they had been friends. The two of them had gotten so close. And now, she had found out that he was The Riddler. The real humiliating part? It was right under her nose. Though she had suspicions, she never wanted to believe them, so she ignored every red flag she saw.

"I'm really sorry." Bruce said.

"Bruce, is it bad that I still care about him?" She asked, tears forming in her eyes.

He sighed.

"No, I don't think so. He was your friend."

She nodded, wiping away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Bruce frowned, pulling her in for a hug. After the whole incident happened, Bruce immediately went to y/n's apartment, outside of his armor of course. He knew she lived nearby and he wanted to make sure his sister was ok. Y/n had told him about the man she met in a bookstore, and from what she had shared with him, he was a good person. But, he should know better than anyone how easily one can hide their true self.

"I'm surprised he didn't try and hurt you. You're a Wayne and it seems like he has a grudge against our family."

"He has every right to hold a grudge against us!"

Bruce pulled away from the hug, confusion on his face. Y/n sighed, standing up and going to her nightstand. She opened it up and pulled out a file. Tossing it to Bruce, she crossed her arms over her chest. Inside was pictures of the old orphanage that was once Wayne Manor. Pictures of the living conditions, children, and even Edward were in there. Y/n had done some serious digging to get this information, though, it was easy if you were a Wayne of course.

"He lived in the orphanage, Bruce. His entire life. Our dad offered him a better life, told him that he could work for W.I."

"He did?" He asked, looking through the pictures.

"Yes, he did. Edward, he applied so many times to the Renewal project. But...dad and mom..." She trailed.

Bruce looked up at her, feeling his heart sink.

"...well, you and I were too young to take charge of anything. So, he was left to rot in that prison. He told me about the things he experienced there, Bruce. It haunts me that Wayne Enterprises let children suffer. We could have easily helped those poor children." She sniffled, holding back tears.

"Jesus."

"You think we're sad orphans, Bruce? Look at those pictures. Look at how they lived..."

He did. He saw all of it. The rats. The horrible beds that they had to sleep in, if they even could. Bruce felt cold just looking at the pictures. He winced as he saw one picture of a child, bite marks on their hands and fingers.

"When I was older, I found out about this. That's why I live out here, Bruce. I want to live like everyone else does. I donate to the orphanages, I do check ups to make sure everything is good, I donate to hospitals, I do volunteering. But, it was Edward who showed me how truly terrible this city is. Yes, he murdered people...but they were bad people Bruce. You know this. That's why he didn't go after me..."

"It sounds like you're defending his actions..." He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not! I'm just...he's not a bad person, Bruce. Sick in the head, sure. I'm just worried about him..." She mumbled.

"Y/n, he murdered people."

"And you go around beating people up in a bat costume! Maybe you belong in Arkham too." She spat.

"I don't kill people."

"Well, maybe if you did this city would be safer!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I-..I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm just shaken up. Frankly, I could give a shit about the people he killed, they were all scum. I'm just worried about Edward."

"Well, he's in Arkham, he's safe there. He can't hurt anyone and he can't hurt himself."

"I guess...not the most humane place though."

Y/n's phone rang, making both of them fall silent. Who could be calling this late at night? It had been an hour since Edward was apprehended, making it 1 A.M. She looked at Bruce before answering the phone.

"This is Y/n Wayne, who is this?"

'Ms. Wayne, this is Cap-...Commissioner Gordon.'

"Commissioner Gordon! Um, what's the matter?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

'It's 'The Riddler'. He's asked to see you in Arkham.'

"Oh, um...ok, I'll be there."

Y/n hung up the phone.

"It's Edward. He's requested to see me..."

"And you're going?" He asked.

"Well, of course I am. I need an explanation, some closure. He's still my friend, Bruce."

He sighed.

"I'm surprised he hasn't asked to see me. He seemed so obsessed with gaining my attention. Um, you're not going to tell him that I'm..."

"No, Bruce. I'm not an idiot. Can you drive me to Arkham, please? It'd be nice to have you there."

"Yeah, that's ok..."

When the Wayne siblings arrived, everyone practically worshipped them. Offering to open doors, constantly saying 'Ms. Wayne' and 'Mr. Wayne'. It annoyed the both of them a lot, though Bruce was the one who could hide the annoyance. Y/n, however, could not. Yes, she loved her family, but she didn't want to be seen as simply 'the Wayne daughter'. It put her on a high pedestal that she hated being on.

"Fuck, there he is." She mumbled, looking at him through the one way window.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. Um, I know there is camera in the room, but do they pick up audio too? I'd prefer for our conversation to be private."

Bruce looked at the security officer.

"Oh, um, no ma'am they do not pick up sound. They only serve as surveillance to make sure an inmate doesn't try and do something they shouldn't. Sometimes we hold therapy sessions in here too, so, legally we can't record sound."

"Ok, thank you. Alright, I'm going in."

"I love you, little sis."

"I love you too, big brother."

Y/n took a deep breath as she opened the door. Edward's gaze landed on her immediately, causing her to feel small. Yes, y/n had always been slightly intimidated by Edward, but even more so now. He did not look like a person who was capable of violence, and yet he murdered multiple people. It was startling. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she sat down in the chair on the other side of the glass.

"Mmm, I knew you'd come..." He hummed.

"You're still my friend, Edward. I care about you."

He chuckled, deciding he'd circle back to that topic later. Tilting his head to the side, he raised his hands up slowly so the guard didn't get jumpy. Edward pointed at the thing in their hands.

"What's that?" He asked.

Y/n opened up the slot underneath the glass. She slid the item into the box, closing the lid. It fell to Edward's side, and he picked it up. A small smile formed on his lips. It was y/n's copy of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. Y/n watched as he flipped through the pages, immediately feeling himself grow warm with happiness.

"I was going to bring you a blanket, but they said that it was a safety hazard. They said you could hang yourself with it." She grumbled.

"Well, this is still a nice present."

It fell silent in the visiting room. The only sound was the flipping of the pages as Edward skimmed through the book. He looked so nonchalant, as if he didn't just snipe Falcone less than 2 hours ago. Though, to be fair, his death wasn't that distressing. Y/n was just startled by how calm he was, especially with where he was.

"Edward, why did you call me here?"

"Hm, I'm not entirely sure...I suppose I just wanted to see my 'friend' again." He smiled innocently.

Y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Edward smirked, humming to himself like he usually did. His fingers rapped against the book, creating small tap sounds. Eventually, y/n just rolled her eyes.

"Look, if you aren't going to talk to me then I'll just go."

"Oh, you will? Ok then, go ahead."

Y/n looked at him, cheeks tinted slightly pink. He had that smug grin on his face, y/n had seen it a lot. Edward had that look when he won a game they were playing or if he stumped y/n on a riddle. But, this time it was more sinister. It sent chills down her spine and she stayed put in the chair. Edward chuckled, nodding his head slowly. He didn't have to say anything, they both knew he called her out on her bluff. Sighing, he looked at her with kind eyes, but his tone of voice was the complete opposite. He was so good at pretending to be something he was not.

"Y/n Wayne, you knew who I was for a while. Why didn't you say anything?" He questioned.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about, Edward."

"Hm, so you never saw the mask in my pocket that one night? You never saw the tiny dots of blood on my face ? The riddles never raised a red flag?" He asked, continuing to flip through the book.

Y/n was silent, looking down at her hands shamefully. Edward tutted, shaking his head. Coolly, he read a small part of the page he was on before looking back up at y/n. She nodded, admitting that she saw them all.

"Uh huh, so why didn't you say anything? I'm dying to know the answer..."

"I-It was because you were my...friend, Edward. I was conflicted."

He kept his face neutral as he looked at her.

"Mmm, there's that word again. Friend. I know you're lying about your answer, so I'll make a deal with you. I'll tell you a secret I've been keeping for a while, and you in return will give me an honest answer. Sound fair?" He asked.

Before she could answer, he started to talk again.

"I've been stalking you for months, y/n. Long before I 'met' you in that bookstore. Did you know that?" He giggled.

"What?"

"Did you really think I just happened to show up in your favorite bookstore? That I just happened to live directly across from you? I know everything about you, y/n. I've been watching you. Studying you. Like a predator stalks their prey."

"You're fucking with me, Edward. That's not funny." She scolded.

"Oh, I don't think it's funny either. I'm being very serious, y/n. Now, why don't you tell me the truth about why you never ratted me out?"

"What the fuck..." She mumbled.

"Well? I'm waiting for an answer."

She was taken aback by his secret, but it made sense the more she thought about it. Of course he had stalked her. She was just too fucking stupid to see it. The thought of Edward stalking her for months before they met scared the shit out of her. But, at the same time, it excited her.

"Y-You're a creep! I trusted you! I lov-..." She trailed.

"Aha, there's the answer I was looking for! Go on, say it." He cackled.

She sighed, looking at her hands again.

"I loved you, Edward. That's why I never said anything."

"Loved? Oh no, you still love me y/n. I know you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

"I do not love you! You're a psycho, a creep, and a murderer!" She spat.

"You knew all of those things before, yet you still were 'friends' with me. Isn't that right?" Edward smirked.

"W-"

"And don't act like you hate the idea of me stalking you. I know who you are, y/n. You're so easy to read."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about..."

Edward sighed in annoyance, propping his forearms up on the metal ledge. He maintained his neutral facial expression as he looked at her. Y/n felt small under his gaze and he knew it. He knew he had power over her. He always would.

"Tell me, doesn't the thought of me watching you from my apartment excite you? Waiting all night for even the tiniest glimpse of you? I know how much you crave attention from others." Edward suavely said.

"I-I mean..."

"Oh, precious Y/n never got the attention she so desperately wanted growing up. No mommy and daddy to tell her 'I'm so proud of you, sweet girl!'. Isn't that right, rabbit?" He cooed.

Y/n felt a chill go down her spine. He was right. Fuck, he was good at reading people. Sniffling, y/n nodded her head. How the hell was he doing this to her?

"Oh, the poor thing. You have such a kind heart, always giving and giving and giving. When has anyone ever given you anything in return? When was the last time someone praised you?" He asked.

Y/n reached up, wiping a tear from her eye quickly.

"S-So long..."

"That just won't do, will it? No, I don't think it will."

She looked at him, lips quivering.

"You know who is proud of you? Eddie."

He watched as she smiled softly. Edward loved seeing her smile so much. If he could just capture a picture of it and keep it, he was sure he would never feel sadness ever again.

"Y-You are?" She sniffled.

"Of course I am, sweetheart. You make me so proud. There are so many things you're good at that deserve praise. Your art, your constant donations to charity, your kind heart, my oh my the list goes on!" He chuckled.

Y/n was blushing like a school girl. To be completely honest, she didn't care that Edward had stalked her. Sure, it was a little jarring, but he was the first person to show her genuine love in a long time. Y/n was head over heels for him and there was nothing she could do about it. The heart wants what it wants after all.

"Oh, there's that beautiful smile. Such a pretty girl. But, y/n, I do have one thing I'm not proud of at all."

"W-What dad-...Edward?"

He smiled to himself at her near 'slip up'. If she had called him it, he wouldn't have minded at all. Actually, he would have loved it...

"You see, you lie to me a lot. You think I never notice, but I do."

"I-I'm sorry..."

"Do not apologize, y/n. All will be forgiven if you just tell me the truth about one thing."

"O-Ok!"

"That's my girl, now, the 'bad dream' you had earlier. I believe you didn't tell me the full story. Why don't you tell Eddie alllll about it?" He grinned.

"O-Oh...um, I-..." She trailed.

"You can tell me anything, rabbit. I'll keep it as a secret."

Swallowing a lump in her throat, she nodded softly. Edward kept his gaze on her. It was a good thing that the cameras didn't record audio, because he knew what was coming. Yes, he already knew what the dream centered around, but he wanted to hear her say it. He wanted to hear the filthy words leave her mouth.

"W-Well, I was honest about dreaming that you were the Riddler..."

"And you were right! You're so smart." He praised.

Y/n should have felt disgusted at how light hearted he was, but she wasn't. It was upsetting how in love she was with him. She was y/n Wayne and she was in love with The Riddler. But, the shame behind that brought excitement. It was a secret between the two of them, a forbidden love. Just like Romeo & Juliet.

"...but you um, you were frightening. A-And, I um...liked it." She mumbled.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Can you elaborate?"

"I th-thought it was hot...that you um, were making me scared. Um, you were being really um...rough." She stuttered.

Edward felt his dick slowly getting hard. He cursed the glass in his head and the cameras. If he could he'd reach right across and give y/n something to dream about for years to come. Groaning softly, he nodded his head. He wasn't going to be vague anymore. He was going to be blunt.

"Did I fuck you?"

"I-..no. I w-woke up before anything like that happened." She admitted.

"Mmm, so you got all worked up over a dream I didn't even fuck you in? You must have really loved what I was saying and doing in it, huh?" He teased.

"Yeah. I-I did."

"You say we're friends, y/n. But, do friends say they love each other in a romantic way? Do friends have wet dreams about each other?" He asked.

"N-No, they don't..."

"That's right. Mmm, I've had dreams of you too, rabbit. Filthy, filthy, dreams." Edward shivered.

Y/n shifted in her seat, arousal soaking through her panties. Edward could tell she was turned on. She couldn't keep still, thighs subtly rubbing together. He tutted and shook his head.

"Now, now, you better stop that. You don't want to get caught, do you? How embarrassing would that be to have your brother find out that The Riddler was making your pussy wet? I'd be mortified if I were you." He taunted.

She whimpered, ceasing the movement of her legs. Edward could see how much willpower it was taking her not to do it. Amused, he smiled and tilted his head. He was going to torment her, tease her until she was merely a puddle on the chair.

"Ever since I first saw you, I was fascinated. That fascination turned into love. And with most love, comes lust. And oh, my sweet rabbit, I have never wanted someone as badly as I want you."

"R-Really?"

"Believe me when I say that I want to ruin you, y/n."

Y/n whined, resisting the urge to dive her hands down her pants. Edward scoffed, resting his hands back in his lap. He grabbed his dick through his pants, adjusting it.

"I have much more to say, y/n. I suggest you do your best to keep your face neutral. But you can moan, just quietly. I would very much love to hear you moan. I've wondered what it might sound like."

She nodded, gaining her composure as much as she could. Sighing, Edward looked towards the ceiling. It looked as if he was collecting his thoughts. Y/n nearly trembled in anticipation.

"I've had so many dreams of you. Some of them are sweet. Those ones consist of us going on dates, maybe a park or a movie." He said.

"That sounds nice."

"It does, doesn't it?" He smiled.

"But the other ones, ohhh, they are filthy. They are so vulgar that I'm not sure I should let them fall upon your ears." He hummed playfully.

"N-No, I want to hear! Please daddy!" She blurted out, covering her mouth with her hand.

He smiled gently, his dick twitching underneath his pants. A soft groan left his lips. Edward was wishing a painful death the the guard watching their visit. He wished for the cameras to power down and for the glass to disappear.

"You sound just like you do in my dreams. I can't say no to how pathetic that sounded."

Y/n blushed, rubbing her thigh with her hand. It was out of view of the cameras and the window, so Edward allowed it.

"I've had dreams where you're on your knees, begging for me. You always look so desperate and needy every time. It's such a pitiful sight that I can't help but give you what you want. Do you know what you want in those dreams?" He asked flatly.

"W-What, da-" She paused.

"Oh rabbit, you can call me that if you'd like. It sounds so good rolling of your tongue..." Edward smirked.

"Ok, daddy...um, what do I want in your dreams?"

Leaning forward, he got closer to the glass. A cocky, toothy smile plastered over his face. His eyes were bright and happy, as if he was about to tell her a funny joke. Raising up his hands, slowly, he made a very subtle 'jerking' motion.

"To get fucked like a whore, obviously." He laughed.

Y/n whimpered. Her chest was tightening from how aroused she was. She took a deep breath, letting it out through pursed lips. Edward grinned, seeing how worked up he was making her.

"Oh, but you're not a whore. No, far from it. In my dreams I may fuck you like one, but you don't act like one. Once I'm done giving you a good dick down, you get so clingy. You're so dependent on me, never wanting to leave my side. It's so precious. I only hope that you're like that outside of my dreams too." He cooed.

"Y-Yes, I am! I-I'm here, after all. I missed you..."

"Oh, that's so sweet. I shoot and kill Carmine Falcone and the first thing you think of is 'I want Edward! Where's Eddie? I miss him so much!'. Is that right?"

"Well, not exactly."

"Hm?"

"I cried first..."

Edward felt a pang in his chest. It genuinely hurt his heart to hear her say that. He never wanted to make her cry, unless it was from pleasure.

"You poor thing, I never though about how you'd feel. I never wanted to make you cry, I just wanted to get rid of the scum that pollutes Gotham." He frowned.

"I know, I may not agree with the murdering...but I'm not saying I miss Falcone either. It just scared me. I was just worried about what would happen to you..."

"You were worried about me, rabbit? You don't need to do that. I can take care of myself, y/n." He smiled.

She nodded. Edward could tell that she felt sad. He did not want her to be sad, not at all.

"You know I love you, y/n. Right?" He asked.

"Y-Yes, I do."

"I did it all for you. I had different plans for Gotham before. I was going to do something far worse, but you made me change my mind. I just want you to live in a city where you can be safe."

Y/n smiled. It was a messed up way to show he loved and cared for her, but she hadn't been loved before. She didn't care anymore, she just was warmed that he wanted her to be safe. Even if he did it through murdering crooked and corrupt people. She blushed, looking down at her hands.

"No, no, don't hide your face. I want to see it." He asked softly.

She looked back up, faint pink dusted on the tip of her nose and her cheeks. Edward loved that about her so much. He thought it made her look so happy and gentle. He chuckled, clapping his hands together as much as he could with the handcuffs on.

"There she is, the prettiest thing in Gotham." He smiled.

"You're making me blush, Edward..." She mumbled.

"I know and I love it. I love watching you get flustered, it's so precious. If only I could touch you..." He sighed.

"Why do you want to touch me?" She asked.

"Well, I want to hold you and kiss you, y/n. That the first thing I want to do." Edward hummed.

"First? Wh-what are the other things?"

"The things I dream of, rabbit." He grinned.

"Tell me more about the dreams!" Y/n said.

He tutted, wagging his finger back and forth. Eyes were squinted as he disapprovingly frowned. He rested his forearms back on the metal ledge, smiling cockily.

"Now, that sounded like a demand. You aren't telling me to do something without asking nicely, are you?"

"N-No, I'm sorry! P-Please, tell me more Eddie." She corrected herself.

"That sounds much better."

He looked her up and down, sighing happily.

"Tell you more, hm? But there are so many dreams, so many fantasies. Though, one thing stays the same in every single one." Edward stated.

"What is that?" Y/n asked curiously.

He planted his hands on the cold surface, leaning towards the glass. His face turned into a very sadistic and comical expression. Dramatically, he emphasized his words.

"You take my dick like a fucking champ..." He smirked.

Y/n moaned, letting out a breathy sigh. Edward stayed in his close position, not finished with what he was saying.

"I'd fuck you so perfectly that nobody else's dick could even make you feel a fraction as good. But before I'd do that, I'd make sure you're on the brink of tears in desperation. You don't get dicked unless I believe you've earned it. I'd want you on your knees, begging, whimpering, groveling at my feet in hopes that I'll fuck your needy pussy." He chuckled.

Y/n's mouth was slightly agape, startled by how blunt he was. He looked like such a shy person, yet he was a total freak. Again, he was so good at pretending to be someone he was not. Everything he was saying seemed so out of character for him, but in reality, it was his true self. Y/n was just the only one who could bring that side out of him. Edward groaned, pointing at her mouth. He seemed irritated or frustrated, either one really.

"That pretty mouth, it's practically asking me to fuck it. Those lips look so plump and soft. Oh rabbit, open up, let me see your tongue." He asked, on the verge of pleading.

She hesitated slightly, but did as he said. Of course she did. No matter what, she would listen to and do what he said. She was his property, and they both knew it. None of them had to even say it. It was obvious that y/n was Edward's girl. Titles weren't necessary. She was simply his, as much as he was hers. Y/n let her tongue roll out and let Edward look at it for a bit. She did it in a way so that the cameras didn't see, and if they did, it just looked like she was yawning in a way. He covered his mouth with his fingers, doing his best to not jerk off at the brief sight of her tongue.

"Ffffuu...it's a blessing that I can't touch you. Your throat would be raw after I finish with you..." He groaned.

Y/n whined, spreading her legs open subtly. Edward looked down, seeing the obvious damp spot over her pelvic region. His tongue darted out and swiped over his lips. Her eyes were silently screaming 'Please, I want you!' and he loved it. Once again, he cursed the glass between them. He just wanted to devour her, taste her, eat her alive like a fox eats a rabbit. She probably tasted so sweet...

"I wish you could see how you look right now. It's so pitiful. You look like you want to be fucked so bad. Do you want to be fucked?" He groaned.

"Y-Yes, I need it daddy..." She shivered.

"Need? You desperate thing, tell me why you need to get fucked by me."

"B-Because I'm so w-wet...it aches..." Y/n whined.

"Poor rabbit, if he could daddy would bend you over and fuck you against this glass." He said flatly.

Y/n moaned softly, making Edward grip his pants. The sound was nearly enough to make him bust all over the hospital uniform. Not wanting to draw attention, Edward looked at the book again. He pretended to read it.

"You said you dreamt I was rough with you, yet I didn't even fuck you? Well, I can promise you that I'd never hurt you without your permission, I want you to know that. I love you too much to do that to you. I believe that trust and safety is important when doing things like that. So, do you trust me, y/n?" He asked, looking up from the book.

"Y-Yes."

"You believe I'll keep you safe?"

"Yes, I do."

"And you'd tell me if you were uncomfortable, yes?"

"Of course."

Edward looked back down at the book, once again pretending to read it. He was such an actor. It was almost sinful how easily he could hide his lust and vulgarity.

"So, if I shoved your face into your bed with my hand wrapped around your neck, would you like that? Would you like it if I made you choke and gasp for air?" He hummed.

"Fuck...y-yes..."

"Do you want me to pull your hair and skull fuck you until you're crying on my dick? I bet your gags sound so vulgar and erotic." He asked nonchalantly.

"E-Edward, please..."

He held up the book and slumped into the chair. Edward looked like this was the most boring conversation he had ever had in his life. His eyes lazily ran over the words in the book, y/n was half convinced he was actually reading it while he spoke those filthy words to her.

"I bet you'd like to get slapped too. Not too hard, of course. I wouldn't want to bruise that pretty little face. But, firm enough the make sure you don't step out of line. You seem like you love to be put in your place." He yawned.

"E-Edward, I don't know if I can handle this anymore..."

"That's too bad, you wanted to hear all of this, right? Now you need to sit and listen."

"F-Fuck..."

"You're filthy, rabbit. Letting a criminal and a murderer make your pussy wet."

"I-I know."

"That's good that you know. You're self-aware about how dirty you are. You must want dick terribly bad if you've resorted to someone like me."

"N-No, I l-love you!"

"Hmm, that's right. That doesn't make it any better though, rabbit. In fact, it makes it worse. Not only do you want to get dicked down by me, but you love me. For shame."

"B-But..."

"Oh, don't worry sweetheart. I'm not angry with you. I think it's lovely that you feel that way towards me, I feel the same to you. But, we better make sure no one else knows about this. Hm?"

"Mhm!"

Edward placed the book down, looking at y/n.

"Mmm, I wish I could just fuck the soul out of you. I want to make you writhe and squirm. I just know you'd feel so good around my dick."

She moaned a little louder, biting down on her tongue. Edward chuckled, leaning against the metal ledge again.

"You, rabbit, are going to scream my name." He smiled.

"Th-that's big talk f-from someone in A-Arkham." She stuttered.

Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Are you getting smart with me?"

"N-No...I was j-just..."

"No. I know what you were doing and I'm not amused. You don't think I'll find my way out of here? I will. And when I do, I'm coming for you."

Y/n blushed.

"When I get out of here, I'll be sure to rearrange those pathetic guts of yours. I'm all bark and bite."

"You can't even touch me, Edward. It sounds like a bunch of talk to me..." She huffed, getting annoyed with his cocky behavior.

"You want me to break the glass and fuck you right here? I could care less about being watched but I sincerely doubt you want the guards to see you get fucked stupid by me. Don't play with me." He spat.

"I'm n-not trying to play with you, daddy..." Y/n mumbled softly, looking down at her hands.

"Yes you are. You're mocking me and yet you sit before me, wet, pathetic, and needy. Isn't that right, rabbit?"

She nodded.

"You want me to protect you, hold you, love you, yes?" He smirked.

"Y-Yes..."

"My, my, you have terrible daddy issues, don't you? Hm. But, if you want that so bad, then why are you playing with me? Mocking me? Do you think I appreciate that? Do you think it makes me proud?" He scolded.

"No I don't, daddy." Y/n sniffled.

"Mhm, it was so rude of you to talk to me like that. Do you want to hurt daddy's feelings?" He frowned.

He was such a serpent. Oh, but he was so lovely, too. Y/n couldn't help it. It was as if she bit the apple from the tree of good and evil. Except, the serpent held the apple in his mouth after, taunting her as she begged for more. Edward was waving what she wanted in her face, just out of her reach. And he knew it. He was so sick that it was hypnotic. So dangerous yet so kind looking, a wolf in sheep's clothing. Y/n was getting too close to him, but she didn't care if she got bit.

"N-No! I don't want to!" She whined.

"Then what do we say when we hurt someone's feelings?" He hummed, cupping a hand over his ear.

Y/n swallowed a lump in her throat, practically choking on her desire. She placed her hands on the ledge, bottom lip quivering as she looked at Edward. He felt his heart skip a beat as he saw slight tears prick in her eyes. She looked so pretty when she cried, as demented as that sounded. A single tear trickled down her cheek before she wiped it away with her finger.

"M' sorry, daddy..." Y/n sighed.

"Oh, say it again, rabbit." Edward grinned.

She looked at him, blushing heavily. He raised and eyebrow, giving a sleazy smile. Y/n looked at the floor, feeling slightly humiliated. Why? She truly did not know. Maybe it was the way he was talking to her. He was so good at making her feel small.

"I-I'm sorry, daddy." She mumbled.

"An apology has never sounded so sweet..." He hummed.

Y/n figeted with her hands.

"You're just lucky I'm not able to get closer to you, rabbit. You'd be giving me more than just an apology." Edward stated flatly.

She whined, trying to picture what he was hinting at in her head. But, when she did that, she felt herself getting more turned on. That was the last thing she needed.

"I'd give you something too, but I don't know if you'd be able to handle it..." He laughed softly.

Oh, he was so demented. But, it was so hot to her. Y/n should not be so worked up over a murderer talking pure smut to her. Yet, she was. Her core ached and throbbed, pleading for her fingers, Edward's fingers, his dick, mouth, anything. She needed to be touched so bad. It was driving her crazy. She squeezed her thighs together, doing her best not to rub them together.

"That's it, back to being timid. You know you aren't the one in control here, y/n. I may be in chains in this hellhole, but don't think for one second that it makes me weak. I haven't touched you and yet I have you soaking wet, desperate to pleasure yourself while 2 cameras are pointed at you. I have you whimpering, whining, moaning, and begging for something that I can't even give you. Does that sound like someone with no power over you? No hold over you?"

"No, Edward. I-It doesn't."

"Exactly. And you love it."

She nodded and whined.

"I've got you eating out of the palm of my hand, y/n. Just like a rabbit. I wonder, if I give you a carrot, will you jump for me?" He snickered.

"I'm not a pet!" She spat.

"Then why are you so obedient to me? Why are you so dependent on me?" Edward asked, shrugging his shoulders.

"I-..."

He leaned forward, propping his elbows up. Looking at y/n, he spoke in a low tone.

"Admit it, I own you! My name is practically branded on your chest. If only...no, I don't want to scar that pretty skin of yours. But, maybe, I could just mark you...yes. Would you like that? My teeth digging into your neck? I swear I'll try to be gentle, but I'm afraid you might taste too good to be able to restrain myself...I bet your flesh and blood tastes like sugar..."

Y/n was shocked, completely thrown off by his sadistic words. Yes, she was trembling in fear. It was so disturbing to hear him talk about how he wanted to mark her, break the skin on her neck. But, yet again, y/n found herself drawn to him. It was sick, twisted, and vile. And her pussy throbbed.

"I-, b-but it'll hurt..." She whimpered.

"Well, I said I'd do my best to be gentle. All you have to do is tell me to stop! Though I so badly want to...rip you apart...I would never want to make you upset or uncomfortable, sweet rabbit." He smiled sadistically.

Y/n panted, feeling arousal seep onto her inner thighs. She felt so dirty...

"I already know the second you get home, you're going to play with yourself while thinking about me. Thinking about the things I could do to you. Thinking about how I could just..."

Edward banged his fists subtly on the table, maintaining a consistent rhythm. He kept eye contact the whole time, lips curling up into a sickly smile. He was a cocky little shit. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and he thrived in the actions he did. The sound of his fists banging rang in her ears and made her throb. Edward sped up the pace, watching as y/n's eyes closed, no doubt imagining the feeling and how it would look. Abruptly, he stopped, practically edging her in a way.

"...destroy you. Break you. Please you. Torture you." He smirked.

"E-Edward, you're a dick! You're tormenting me!" She cried softly.

"Yes I am, took you fucking long enough. I thought you were smart?" He mocked.

She shuddered, his cold gaze freezing her blood.

"It's a game to me, y/n. Yes, I love you, but I love making you crave me too. And you make it so easy..."

A knock on the glass startled y/n, making her turn around. It was most likely Bruce telling her that the visit was going on too long. She sighed, looking back to Edward. Y/n was upset, not wanting to leave, despite how torturous he was being to her. He too looked upset, his plaything was about to leave. His plaything. His. He'd have to make the last minute count. He lured the prey into security, and it was genuine security. But now, it was time for the mind games. It was time for him to strike fear and paranoia into her heart. He wanted to be in her mind for a long time to come.

"You said you loved how I intimidated and scared you in your dream, yes?" He asked.

"Yeah?"

"You'll never know when I get out of Arkham. Not until it hits the newspapers."

Y/n looked at him, unsure of what he was getting at.

"I wonder how long you'll be paranoid? How many times will you watch a dark corner, wondering if I'll walk out of it? How many times will you sleep with one eye open? How many times will you watch behind your back as you walk down the streets? I am still a criminal, after all." He smirked devilishly.

Y/n's eyes widened, feeling her skin turn to ice. It was then that she realized he truly was sick. But, why did she still love him? Oh, how conflicting a forbidden love must be. To want someone that should not be wanted. To seek approval from someone one should never seek approval from. His pupils looked dilated, staring deep into her soul. She felt exposed and violated just from his gaze. And she loved it...

"Lord, what fools these mortals be!" He shouted.

She shivered, standing up slowly from the chair. Edward picked up the book again, flipping to a certain page. He had memorized the entire book, as he had already read his own copy he bought at the bookstore. But, being Edward, he wanted to be theatric as he read quotes. He looked at y/n in the eyes, standing up abruptly, no doubt startling the guard, Bruce, and y/n herself. He placed his hands against the glass, a breathy laugh leaving his lips.

"I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell..." He trailed.

Her pussy throbbed once again, thinking back to when they were in the bookstore. She had told Edward that she would never accept anyone's love unless they confessed or expressed it through Shakespeare. And, he was doing exactly that, Although, he was doing it in Edward fashion. Ominous, eerie, and disturbing.

"...to die upon the hand I love so well." She finished.

The door opened up and Bruce came in, grabbing y/n by the hand. Edward laughed hysterically, pacing back and forth behind the glass. His eyes were crazed behind his glasses as he kept his gaze on y/n the entire time. Y/n could tell that he was being dramatic, just wanting to get a rise out of everyone.

"Thus I die. Thus, thus, thus. Now I am dead, now I am fled, my soul is in the sky. Tongue, lose thy light. Moon take thy flight..." He paused, slowly walking back to the glass.

"...Now die, die, die, die!" He cackled.

He watched as Bruce dragged y/n out of the room. She looked back at him, still worked up from their 'discussion'. Edward blew a kiss to her, further making the scene more demented. Y/n attempted to reach up and grab it, but wanted to be discreet, so instead she smiled at him. It was odd though, as she was still terrified of his tangent that he went on. The sight of him laughing and quoting Shakespeare was not something she thought she would ever be scared of, but it was. But before she left, she heard him say one last thing. It sent chills down her spine.

"Run rabbit, run! For I linger in the shadows and you will never know when I might pounce..."

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