#stepdad!

[msfantasy-taboo]

Karma Hits Tenfold

Summary: After enduring years of abuse from your mother, you find a very successful outlet to get her back for all those years of horror.

Warning: Please be reminded that the below story is a dark fantasy and is not a representation of a healthy relationship. The story contains dark themes including abuse, mental abuse, mental health issues, step-cest,step-father seduction, depictions of sex. Do not read if these themes make you uncomfortable. This is your final warning.

Taboo: Step-cest + cheating

“What the actual fuck is she doing here?” your sister spits, her voice low but venomous, her lips pulled taut into a sneer. A far cry from the easy grin she wore mere seconds ago.

You scramble to the window, heart hammering in your chest as you pray that it isn’t who you think it is. But the moment your eyes land on her, your stomach plummets.

There she is. Your mother.

You’re yanked from your thoughts by the sound of ragged breathing.

Your head snaps towards your sister. Her chest heaves, her hands trembling mid-air. Her eyes are locked on the figure outside, wide with horror. “S-s-she’s going to ruin it.” The words scrape out of her throat, her face flushing crimson as tears brim hot and fast. “She’s going to ruin my wedding!” The scream tears from her and her knees buckle. She crumples to the floor, and you drop with her, arms wrapping tight around her shaking frame. Bridesmaids rush in, crouching, grasping her hands, gripping her arms, anything to ground her, to keep her tethered.

“She’s not going to ruin anything, sis,” you murmur, forcing calm into your voice, holding her against you while her breaths come in wild, shallow pants. Knowing full well that your mother probably has 10 methods in her mind on how to ruin your sisters special day.

“She’s ruined my life before!” she sobs, voice breaking. “She’ll do it again!” Her mascara smears with every tear, black streaks running down her face.

“No, she won’t. I’ll get rid of her.” Your own resolve sharpens, seeing your baby sister fall apart so quickly. You’re ready to rise, to cast the beast out before she ruins her day just like every other time.

But your sister’s grip tightens on your hand. “No—wait! Don’t let Remy meet her!” Her voice is frantic, pleading, her words jagged with terror.

You squeeze her trembling hands, pressing a fierce kiss to the back of one. “Remy isn’t Michael. He won’t betray you—”

“She slept with my boyfriend, Y/n!” she wails, every word a knife through her. “I wouldn’t put it past her to try my fiancé!”

Her body goes limp against you, wracked with sobs. Around you, bridesmaids whisper frantic comforts, their hands smoothing hair, rubbing shoulders, clinging to her like anchors.

All of them fighting to pull her back into the moment her day, her joy before her mother poisons it too.

You’re torn between the urge to storm out and rip into your mother, and the aching need to whisper a thousand affirmations into your sister’s ear until she believes them.

Your chest burns with indecision. Feet frozen in place as your mind fails to make a decision.

Then sharp knocking jolts you from your spiral.

“Darling, are you in there?” Remy’s voice filters through the door, steady and warm. The room freezes. Even your sister’s sobs, suspended. “I saw this woman… she looks like—well, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

And just like that, a weight lifts.

“Don’t come in! I’m hideous!” your sister wails, scrambling toward the table scattered with make up.

“No one could ever outdo me in hideousness,” Remy replies without missing a beat, his voice teasing. “Not even when I dressed up in Santa Maria for the costume party—remember that?”A laugh bursts from your sister, broken, but it’s a laugh all the same. “And yet,” Remy goes on gently, “you stayed with me anyway, didn’t you?” Her laughter grows lighter. “Tell me you’re alright, darling, and I’ll wait for you at the altar. If you’re not… then I’ll wait right here. And hold you, if you’ll let me.”

Your sister steps toward the door, her palm pressing flat against the wood as though reaching for him through it. “I don’t want you to see me, Remy.”

“I won’t look, I promise. I just needed to hear you.”

Her throat tightens around the words. “I’m scared, Remy. She’s not supposed to be here.”

“I know, my sweet angel…” His tone softens, low and protective. “I thought that was her. I’ll make her leave—”

“No!” The cry rips from her, raw and panicked. “Don’t go anywhere near her!”

Silence presses on the other side of the door. Remy stills, his breath audible, as if weighing her terror in his hands.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to angel.” Remus deep steady voice echos through the door. “but I also don’t want your day ruined with her presence. Tell me what you want sweetheart— I’ll support whatever decision you make.

Your sister stares at her own reflection, before her eyes flicker to yourself. She takes a steady breath in.

“If we kick her out— she’ll make it the centre of drama. Just leave her, let her watch me be happy without her— in spite of everything her mother has done.

“Then I shall wait for you at the alter okay? I love you.” Remy calls out and your sister can’t help but laugh, her heart full of joy.

“I love you too!” She yells back. And just like that, the room was filled with light and joy once again.

The ceremony kicked off without a hitch.

Your mother and the man accompanying her were lost amongst the crowd. A sea of people concealing the unwanted.

Even if they were spotted, the bride and groom were too enraptured in the moment to notice. Eyes only lingering into each other. Hands clasped, kisses shared, infectious smiles that would even convince the most cynical people that soul mates are real.

As soon as the union was complete, the masses exited the venue, ready to move to the next location to celebrate their marriage in food, drinks and horrible dancing.

The wedding was glorious. The bride and groom perched on a long table, far from your mother’s grasp.

You’re not even sure if your sister remembers her untimely appearance.

But you sure do.

You eye the vulture stuffing her face all whilst the man departs their table and to the bar. Once he was alone, you approached him.

“So you’re our mother’s latest victim.” You announce. The man lifts a brow, turning towards you as you stand beside him.

His suit is freshly pressed, not a single wrinkle in sight. His cuff links are heavy, yet eye catching, his jawline sharp and his hair styled effortlessly, yet flawlessly. The cologne emanating off him was oddly intoxicating. If you were any more inebriated, you might’ve just pulled him in by his collar and take in a deep breath.

“Husband.” He corrects. His voice is so deep it almost rumbles. The kind of voice that’s woven with confidence and absolute authority. “I must say I’m quite surprised at how we were received today.” He hints and you merely shrug.

“If you haven’t noticed you’ve married a heinous woman by now, then I’m sorry to say the fault sits with you.” You say back. You look up at him through your lashes, and you don’t dare to miss the smirk growing across his face. The lack of defensive remarks tells you everything you need to know.

“So,” he begins, “what did she do that caused both of her daughters to hate her so?” He asks, tilting the crystal to his lips and sipping the whiskey.

You take a deep breath, leaning against the bar. “Our mother made it her personal mission to sleep with our boyfriends— she finally succeeded one time.” You look up at him, half expecting him to look indifferent, but, to your surprise, he grimaced.

“That’s a down right shame your girls endured such behaviours. I can understand why her daughters don’t talk to her anymore.” You hum in agreement.

“Tell me stranger, why’d you go ahead and marry her?” You ask, unable to piece together why someone so objectively handsome and seemingly put together would settle for some chaos magnet.

The man chuckled at your question. “Stranger huh?”

“Well I don’t even know your name.”

“Major Miles Evans.” He introduces himself, grinning at your surprised reaction.

“She always did have a thing for men in uniform.” You mutter. Looking back at him, “but you still haven’t answered my question.”

“It’s hard to say. I know there was a reason. I remember feeling like she was the one and only woman for me…” he says, eyes flicking down to his glass.

“But?”

“After we tied the knot it all fell apart after that.” He says, taking another swig of his drink. “She’s not the woman I fell for—“

“She probably got tired playing a character.” You finished, Miles nodding along like you hit the nail on the head.

“Something like that.” He mutters, placing the crystal down.

“My mother was always talented at finding treasure, but she was never good at keeping it.” You say.

Miles pauses, looking over his shoulder before turning his gaze to you.

“Treasure?”

“Yes major,” you laugh airily. “Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown two heads?”

“Never thought of myself as much of a prize.” He joked back, your hand falls onto of his. Hand still clutching the crystal like it’s a life line.

“You’re a major in the military, fit, handsome, well dressed, polite, kind, and you smell so good I’m half tempted to clutch you close like my personal candle.” You tease, biting down your lip, attempting to suppress the grin growing across your face at his reaction.

“Don’t go saying such sweet things to me now.” He says, but his hand isn’t moving away from yours.

“I’m just saying, Miles, if you were mine— I’d never let you go.” Miles leans in, as if entranced in your gaze. “Or at least, I’d give you a night you’d never forget.” You whisper.

Miles leans in just a little bit closer.

“Don’t tease me.” He says, his voice stern, dripping with want and you lean in closer than what would be appropriate.

“It’s only teasing if this goes no where… come to my room.” You coax and Miles inhales a sharp breath. “Please?” You ask, hand now trailing up his arm.

He looks over his shoulder one last time before looking back at you.

“If we are doing this… it’ll be over for your mother and I.”

You shrug, not giving a damn about how it’ll affect her.

“Do whatever you want Major— but I need you now.” You whisper back.

And just like that, he was yours.

The hotel door slammed shut behind you, your back hitting the wall with a thud as he caged you in, one hand cradling your jaw, while the other skimmed down to your hip, dragging you closer, fingers digging greedily into your flesh. He barely let you breathe before his mouth was on yours. Desperate, passionate kissing. His lips tasting faintly of whiskey and wedding cake.

The taboo nature of it all working you up more than you realised as you tug at the buttons of his dress shirt, frustrated when they refused to give fast enough. He groaned into your mouth, a sound equal parts amusement and impatience, and shoved your hands aside to rip the fabric open himself—buttons scattering across the carpet like confetti.

You laughed breathlessly against his lips, the sound muffled when he tilted your chin, kissing you deeper, rougher, until your knees wobbled. The world outside that room was the sounds of a union. The wedding, the music, the champagne-fueled chaos blurred into nothing as your focus turns completely to the mercy of Miles.

He picks you up by the back of your thighs. Unable to help but squeal at the sudden sensation of being airborne. He carries you the bed, dropping you carefully onto the crisp sheets as he cradles you close.

His hot kisses moving away from your mouth as he kisses down your neck, sucking slightly at your skin when he passes a spot that causes you to mewl. His hand sliding your brides make dress up your leg until it’s pooled around your stomach. You wait impatiently for the inevitable sensation of his hand caressing your core. Only, he must’ve been the world’s biggest tease as his hand sits on your hip like a weight, reminding you that it’s so close, yet so far.

You shrug the straps of your dress off, exposing your chest as his lips latch on to your mound. Writhing underneath the pleasure as your body can do no more but twitch and shutter at the sensation of is mouth working up your nerves. Your thighs joining together, rubbing as you feel the heat pool where you want him most.

“Miles…” you moan out, feeling slightly embarrassed at the implication of begging him for more.

“I got you.” He reassures, not making you dare beg for more. His fingers loop through the side of your panties as he pulls them down your legs. His palm sliding up the inner side of your leg, prying your thigh open as his hand slides closer and closer to your heat. His mouth latching to your neck once again, right onto the nerve that makes you moan, his tactile fingers gliding between your dewy folds before his finger slides in without warning, you moan you, your back arching off the bed as he plays with your cunt like an instrument. Each nerve pulled is like a string to your vocals.

“That’s the spot isn’t it.” He states, knowing full damn well that he’s found your g-spot in little to know time. So damn confident. Your hips lift from the bed, as you grind into his hand absentmindedly, your body completely lost in the thrill his hand is giving you right now.

“Yea-yeah! Right there!” You moan out, head tilting backwards, the coil in your stomach turning to a taut knot ready to snap at Miles as he fingers you with effortless resolve. You can’t believe you’re seeing stars already, your mind going blank as the Majors fingers continue to slide in and out of of soppy cunt as you come undone. “Mh— cumming!” You moan out and you can do nothing but grip his arm in ecstasy as you come completely undone. Your pussy gripping his fingers into place before fluttering at your release.

You pant in bliss, shock and bewilderment.

You’ve only just started and you’re already feeling incredibly fucked out and all it took with his fingers fucking you.

“Look at you.” He coo. Already sitting up, pulling at the belt locking his tented pants. “You look like a goddess and sound like one too.” He praises, pulling his large erection out. The heavy, stiff member slapping onto your stomach as you can do nothing more than dumbly part your knees further. “I’m just getting started.” A shiver shoots down your spine at his words, his cock head sliding up and down your folds, coaxing your essence to lubricate his mushroom head.

“Condom.” You mutter dumbly, unable to form proper sentences.

“No, I want to feel your cunt directly on my cock.” He says, still sliding between your folds as you can do nothing more but hum in submission. Not giving a damn at this point.

His tip catches your hole, he begins to slowly slide into your pussy, the stretch slightly uncomfortable, but your organ quickly adjusting to accommodate his size. Miles releases a heavy sigh as he sinks to the hilt, not leaving a single inch outside you pussy.

He grabs you by your hips as he begins to slowly rock into your cunt. The slow and intentional drag of his cock, touching every single nerve.

“Fuck!” You moan out, watching his dick disappear in between your legs. “You feel really fucking good.” You whine out, half wishing him to slam into you senselessly, half wishing he continues this slow, mind numbing thrusts.

“Yeah— you like that?” He teases, knowing full damn well you like that. His pace picking up ever so slightly as your mind struggles to keep up with his thurst. “You like your step-dad’s cock?” He asks and you just nod stupidly, your fingers weaving into the sheets.

“F-feel so good—more.” You beg, and you were sure what ‘more’ you wanted. Faster? Slower? Harder? You didn’t know, you wanted it all.

“I got you.” He whispers, maintaining his speed but slamming a little bit harder as the sounds of wet clapping fills the air. His fingers reaching down to your chest as he pinches are the hard buds. “I can feel you’re close already. Why don’t you just cum on be pretty girl.”

“Kiss me.” You beg, he leans down, capturing your lips in a heavy wet kiss, your arms snaking around his neck as he continues to slam into your spasming cunt. Your legs locking tighter around his waist as he begins to suddenly slam into you at an ungodly pace. His tip kissing your cervix.

“I’m going to cum inside you pretty girl.” He warm, and your pussy begins to grip him like a vice. Demanding he unloads nowhere else.

The walls come crashing down as he slams into you a final time, loading completely into your pussy as he groans out.

You just lay there panting. Barely registering the sounds of a door slamming and the sounds of feet pattering down the hall.

But you’re completely distracted by Miles unspoken threats. He pulls out of you, already crawling down the bed, between your thighs, as he licks a long stripe right between your folds.

Your eyes crack open in the sun filled room.

Completely naked, feeling nothing more than an ache between your inner legs, a sticky tacky mess left behind. Evidence from last nights endeavours.

You look to the other side of the bed, seeing an empty space.

“Good morning.” You hear Miles hum.

The man looks like a glorious titan.

Crystal water droplets sliding down his chest, the steam of a hot shower rolling off his skin, his muscles well defined in the morning light.

“I ordered you some breakfast.” He announces, nodding towards the food cart, holding up a silver tray of assorted items. “Your sister sent this bottle up.” He says, nodding towards a bottle of champagne with a note attached.

Miles strides closer to you, sitting down next to you as you sit up, grabbing the note strung to the bottle.

‘Karma is the best wedding present’

You grin at the note. Throwing it back onto the table.

“So,” Miles begins, “now that you’ve got your revenge, are you satisfied?”

You shake your head. “You’re the best sex I’ve ever had.” You say, making Miles chuckle at your praise.

“Good, cause I don’t plan on letting you go.”

[betweentimeand42]

I got a new phone case and my stepfather immediately asked, before I opened the package, “So did you get one with stars and spaceships, or one with old rock stars on it?”

It has UFOs on it and it pains me how predictable I am

[betweentimeand42]

My stepdad put on a Simon & Garfunkel CD to listen to while we ate dinner, and the line "I'd rather be the hammer than the nail" came up in a song. Instantly my stepdad said, "But if you were the nail you'd be sitting securely in one place, and if you were the hammer you'd be used all the time." It was... too much. We ended our dinner by arguing in a friendly manner about the future of AI, with my stepfather saying "We're going to end up as their pets" and me saying "But there's such a thing as coexistence!" He tried to scare me by saying "machines will be making music too before you know it," but I said "and I welcome that!!"

[betweentimeand42]

Stepfather: Have you named the Echo (my car) yet?

Me: Well, I was calling it Blue but that doesn't make sense... its name is Blue Monday because that would be the name of my child except I'm not having one.

Stepfather: You mean you're not having one at this point in time or never having one?

Me: Never... ever... EVER...

Stepfather: Okay, I get it.

[betweentimeand42]

My stepfather was reading The Robots of Dawn at the same time I was reading Foundation and Empire and when I went outside to read he greeted me by holding up the book and saying "On page 113, psychohistory is mentioned!"

[betweentimeand42]

My stepfather: Today I saw a movie that you were talking about earlier [Rogue One], and I found out there was a robot even more annoying than C-3PO. Me: D: ... I LOVE THAT ROBOT.

[betweentimeand42]

My stepfather is KILLIN' it this week. This is his birthday present to me. Yes, that is a photo of my giant stuffed hippo and my Baymax, wearing sunglasses, on the hammock in our backyard. On a shirt.

[betweentimeand42]

So I renamed my smol stuffed robot Calliope. (They have two names- Calliope and Colin- because of a backstory I gave them.) I introduced them to my stepfather last night, and tonight at dinner he played a tape of miniature Wurlizter organ music in Calliope's honor. (Where does he get these oddities? We just don't know...) The organ was named Little Otto and the tape was billed as "The Happiest Music On Earth." And y'know what? IT IS! Listening to it brought so much delight and joy to my heart! Until my stepfather tried to play the other side and the tape player malfunctioned, which in his words means that "we'll never hear Little Otto again."