That blurb u wrote like 4 days ago pls continue it where he's like mad when she gets home bc I NEED your writing ilysm random writer
helloooo, thanks for reading and ilysm!!! i fear this went in a completely different direction of what you were probably thinking, but this is what my brain came up with. i hope you enjoy nonetheless <3
pt. 1 here!
cw: incest, emotional abuse, restraints, manipulation, toxicity, degradation
It was hard not to take the shots offered to you in the car on the way to the drive-in. Your friends always had a way of persuading you, and you were eager to avoid answering their persistent questions as to why you were wearing full sweats when it was blistering hot outside.
You were drunk when you got to the drive-in, and it was so hot that you took your sweats off to reveal the original outfit you had planned. Your beautiful friends didn't say anything about the sneakers that took the place of your pretty kitten heels.
Lost in laughter and booze, you didn't pay much attention to the pictures that your friends insisted upon as soon as you got to the venue. The liquid courage had you posing in ways you never would, but your friends fucking loved it. Your best friend asked if it was okay to post the picture of her holding your breasts while she licked your neck, and in your drunken haze, you said yes.
That was a huge fucking mistake.
You stumbled onto your front porch hours later, trying your best not to make as much noise as possible. You struggled with getting your key in, and before you knew it, the door opened to reveal your clearly irritated brother.
"Are you seriously so drunk you can't even open the front door?"
You look up at him, his figure slightly blurry. You nod, hoping that he'll take pity on your disheveled state. You did not plan on getting this drunk tonight, and he was to blame. If he didn't pull that stunt earlier then you wouldn't have gotten that drunk, right? You don't know. Maybe you like the attention. Maybe he was right, and you are a slut. No, that's not who you are, it can't be. It was just one night.
He's just looking after you. He told you of all the stories of his friends taking vulnerable girls and using them, and he promised that you wouldn't end up like them as long as you trusted him. You trust him; there's no other choice. This was just a bad night, and this isn't like you. He has to understand. He'll understand.
"Isn't this the fucking outfit I told you not to wear? God, you don't respect me or anything I tell you. I tell you everything to keep you safe, and you disregard me? Do you even want me to help you? Do you want me to throw you to wolves?"
"NO! Please, I'm so sorry. It wasn't my choice, I'm so sorry," your breath catches and you can barely speak. You know of the stories he's talked about; you would not be a victim of that.
He comes back to you, taking your cheeks into his hand.
"I know, you've always been so good. Unfortunately, I have to teach you a lesson for being such a slut tonight. I told you what would happen if you didn't change, right? You knew this was coming. Did you want this to happen? Oh, you dirty girl," his pupils grow large as you cower against his touch.
He throws you over his shoulder and walks into your room. He tosses you against your bed, taking your hoodie, sweatpants, and purse away from you. He smirks as he eyes the sweat set in his hands.
Suddenly, he double knots your hoodie with your left hand to your headboard. He sees your eyes widen then does the same with your sweatpants to your right hand.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"God, wish I had something to shut your mouth with. You're so lucky I love your lips. They're like mine but smaller," he scrambles through your purse, finding your expensive pink lip gloss. His smile contorts into something ugly. He scoffs.
"So this is what you use to seduce other men," he takes the applicator out and turns it around in his hand.
"This color doesn't look as good as the lipstick I bought you. What was wrong with the one I got?"
He doesn't let you respond as he's too busy spreading the gloss all over your face. You grimace as the hours of labor that you spent to purchase the gloss goes disregarded as he sparingly smears it like a cheap product on a cheap canvas. Your head moves back and forth to evade him, but he takes your chin in his hand to steady you. His eyes stare pointedly into yours, warning you. Once you've settled, his eyes crinkle as he smiles. He pushes off of you and grabs the eyeliner that you left on your dresser.
He pushes your halter top upwards on your breast, barely concealing your nipple. He uncaps the eyeliner and begins writing on your stomach.
“What were you tonight, huh? Tell me.”
He sighs, pulling your chin down to force you to look down at your stomach. The word ‘SLUT’ is written crudely below your navel. Your jaw drops as you take in his script.
“Oh, now you can’t say anything? Guess that mouth is only good for sucking dick and swallowing cum. Alright, cumslut, you asked for it.”
He begins writing deliberately and slowly. CUMWHORE. CUMSLUT. FUCKTOY.
You can’t watch. You hate that his warm hand running up your side is soothing you while his other hand inflicts pain as he writes.
“I can’t believe you would let your so-called best friend post that picture of you two. Two sluts together, what, you gonna be in a threesome with her now? You’re showing yourself off to everyone but me. Do you hate me that much?” You don't hate him. Not at all, and that's the problem. How could he be so cruel to you when you're family?
He continues writing profanities across your abdomen. Eventually the hand that rubbed your sides moves to make room for more insults. CUMDUMP. WHORE. BAD GIRL. Somehow, seeing bad girl hurts the most.
Once he’s done, he pushes himself off of the bed and stares down at you.
“You hurt me tonight. Badly. It’s only fair I get to hurt you back. I hope you know you deserved this. You fucked up tonight, and this is your way of letting me forgive you.”
He unties your restraints and pulls you up to face the full body mirror. He wraps his arms around your shoulders as he forces you to look at yourself.
“I forgive you. Even through this, I think you still look beautiful. You know why? Because I’m the one who did this to you. I’m the only one who will ever care about you this much. You’ll never dress like this again because other guys will do much worse than what I just did. You needed a lesson. You know that, right?” He looks at you expectantly through the mirror. You nod slowly.
He kisses the top of your forehead. “Good girl.”
He releases you and you can finally breathe again. He says something about running you a bath, but the only thing you can focus on is rubbing the eyeliner off of your skin as fast as possible.
You decide you'll never wear those clothes ever again.
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p.s. the formatting on this one is kinda weird idk my post was too long so i had to do this lol yeah idk how tumblr works
