#How to cope with cop out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neopuppy · 9 months ago

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Agora Hills (M)

pairing. step-dad Johnny x step-daughter female reader

genre. arrest me daddy officer AU, cop Johnny, angst, M/F, pwp, one shot

warnings. age gap(y/n: 18, Johnny: 38), y/n is manipulative(and has extremely unhealthy coping mechanisms), multiple hook ups, death mentioned, y/n dealing with the loss of her mother by acting out, peeping, boxer-brief snatching, side characters: Jaemin Jeno Jungwoo, this gets pretty nasty. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

word count. 16k+

now playing. Agora Hills//Doja Cat

smut warnings. dom/sub dynamics, masturbation, stepcest, loss of virginity, heavy on size difference, daddy kink/use of ‘daddy’ + pet names, dry(wet) humping, fingering, face fucking, face slapping, squirting, possessiveness, overstimulation, spitting, choking, handcuff use, multiple orgasms, sex in public, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, etc

—————————————-

There’s no denying how hard this year has been, each day feels more and more like a battle. It’s hard to wake up, hard to put a brush through your hair, hard to bother with putting away your laundry. Little things really, they feel meaningless, everything generally feels meaningless.

“Hey, it’s already half past noon and you haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Concern rings between each word, dragging your body to the side to blink your eyes open and peer over to where he stands. There’s those same eyes that droop at the corners, never bright or optimistic anymore. They used to hold a softness, love, adoration, never toward you romantically, but still enough to make you feel special.

You are special to him though, that’s why he’s concerned. Even when he has to look away, maybe because you remind him too much of her. Of the woman you both loved more than anything, the loss you both continue to suffer from.

“Not hungry.” You mutter, pulling your blanket on tighter as soft fabric rubs against your hips and sets off warmth between your chest.

He sighs, head knocking on the door frame. “You know, I won’t let you deteriorate, your mom would—“

“Mom’s not here.” You say, cutting him off. A small pang of guilt hits when he nods solemnly, chin tucked to his chest without looking at you again.

“Fine. Have it your way.” Letting go of your door handle, he shrugs and shakes his head. “I’ll leave my card and cash out on the counter if you change your mind and get hungry later. Have to get ready for work, I’ll be home late so don’t.. worry about me.”

You’d be lying if you said you won’t worry. You always worry. Always fear the thought of receiving a late night call that he didn’t make it, that he’s on his deathbed hooked up to life support leaving his fate in your hands. Instead you nod and barely raise your fingers out of your blanket to wave goodbye.

It’s always the same routine when he has these night shifts. Pester you about eating, about getting some fresh air, doing something productive with your free vacation time, just being a damn nuisance you don’t want to deal with. You have to get through it, act like you don’t care too much, keep up a calm facade despite the anxious way your heart begins to race.

It’s been weeks of planning, trying to figure out what it would take to make your sweet nurturing step-father finally snap.

Jaemin: Swing by to get you tonight around 10?

Yeah. That should be late enough, and from the clues you’ve gathered, you know exactly where to go.

The sound of the shower turning on from the master bedroom alerts your ears, jumping out of bed and into your slippers to tiptoe down the hall and twist your mom’s key through the lock to allow yourself in. It’s lucky you’d found it mixed in with a bunch of her items, making it easy to pocket and hide in case you’d ever need it.

He’s already inside of the shower by the time you’ve rounded the corner and crouched down by the connected bathroom door. It gets steamy, but the glass still clears up enough to take in his long muscular legs, sleek lean back, thick arms curling up to run shampoo through his hair.

It’s different today, having to cover your mouth to hold in your gasp when you spot him leaned back against the wall. His eyes are shut tight, sharp eyebrows furrowed together frustratedly, arm jerking furiously. The fog clears up along the glass with each hit of water, making the view of his large hand stroking up and down his length vividly clear.

To your surprise, he never brings anyone home. Many would consider him to be a young handsome eligible bachelor still, a good career, attractive face, fit body. You certainly wouldn’t be shocked if he decided to start dating again. The sad truth is you often find your step-father still mourning the loss you both took. He cries through the night, wakes up with swollen eyes and dark circles, he plays it off and puts on a smile for your sake but his pain is evident.

It’s hard to watch him struggle. The way he pulls on his cock seems painful, writing his internal guilt with each whimper and groan that squeezes from his tucked in lips. He doesn’t want you to hear him, he doesn’t want to experience pleasure through his pain. Doesn't think he deserves it.

You wonder what brought this on, what set him off enough to finally break the silent celibacy pact you assume he’s held himself accountable to. Today’s different from the way he barely touches his cock whenever washing suds off his body, scrubbing himself clean in such a robotic way without any expression.

Sliding onto your knees, you have to adjust the oversized boxers hanging from your hips, rolling them up tighter to squeeze around your middle. He hasn’t mentioned anything about his underwear going missing yet, hasn’t had the nerve to question you about the different items from his closet that he can’t recall seeing for weeks now. It’d be too weird to suspect his step-daughter of invading his privacy and personal belongings while at work.

Johnny’s always been too nice to ever think you could do anything wrong. Not you, not with the angelic side of yourself you grace him with. It’s almost too easy messing with him, rolling around on his freshly washed sheets when he leaves for work, spraying his cologne on your pillows to feel closer to him.

He won’t say anything even if he notices a familiar print of his underwear peeking out from your pajama bottoms.

“Shit.” You murmur, pushing back on your legs to inconspicuously crawl your way out before he can exit the bathroom. Too fast to sneak out to take in the evident failure pulling his cheeks down into a frown.

Johnny’s lonely, he’s real lonely, and you can fix that. You want to fix that.

A knock rasps down your door minutes later, halting your hand from traveling past the waistband of your stolen boxers after burrowing back inside of your bed. “I’ll be heading out now, if you need anything I’m only a phone call away.”

Staying silent for a moment, you decide to get up and listen at the door for his breathing. Keeping your movements light enough to not make the floor creak as you make your way over. His breath comes out evenly, fingers tapping a couple of times along the doorbed before he lets out a quiet sigh and turns to leave.

It’s better for him to believe that you went back to sleep, lessen any possible suspicion, cover your ass if you ever fuck up and accidentally leave evidence. He’s too good at his job.

The cop car stays parked across the street from your house most days when he’s working a lot, not helping the ongoing joke you hear about how your step-dad does that on purpose to ward away the men who want to date you. For the most part it worked too, living by his rules to focus on your education throughout high school and not waste your time fucking around with teenage boys.

Times have changed though, and with this year long break you both agreed would be best for your mental health, you have gotten bored.

Beyond bored.

Sneaking over to your window, you watch as he takes one last glance back at the house before getting inside of the car. He’s handsome as ever in that stupid pig uniform, the halster cinching his waist in further really accentuating his build.

Jaemin: Your step-dad’s not roaming the streets tonight by chance?

Watching his car drive off you reply with an angel emoji, exclaiming how excited you are to get out.

“I’ll see you later Johnny.”

—————————————-

“Didn’t think you’d ever agree to going out with me.” Jaemin grins from ear to ear. Rounding his car to get the passenger door opened for you.

“Don’t be so modest, you know I’m into you.” You say flirtatiously, settling into the car seat. His eyebrows raise, grabbing onto the roof of the car to duck his head inside.

“You seem to be into a lot of guys.”

That’s true, you can’t lie about that. Opting to offer him a coy smile, you shrug and tap the tip of his nose. “And you’re at the top of that list.”

Scrunching his nose back at you, he nods acceptingly. “Not only that, but your dad—“

“Step dad.” You’re fast to correct, clearing your throat. “He’s not my father.”

“Right, that, well..” Jaemin stands up straight, cooling his hands off on his jeans from the hot car roof. “Isn’t he like, a cop?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“Thought you told Haechan last semester that you’re not allowed to date..” walking around, he gets into the driver seat and reaches over to buckle your seatbelt. “Didn’t you say that’s his rule? Your step dad?”

“You sure do have a lot of questions, Jaemin.”

“I’m not trying to piss off a cop.” He chuckles, gripping onto the steering wheel. “Silly if you ask me. You’re 18, he can’t expect you to stay abstinent until marriage.”

“Well he does.”

“Oh.”

“And I don’t care.” Leaning over the middle, you grip onto his thigh. “Right now all I care about is you and me.”

Jaemin’s mouth falls open with a hidden smile, eyeing your hand inching up his thigh. “Someone’s eager.”

“Let’s go to Agora Hills.”

“What??” Snapping his head up, he stares at you with blown out wide eyes. “Oh I thought—“

“You thought wrong, let’s go.”

Slowly nodding, he releases the brake to pull out of your street. Shaking off his shock as he pulls onto the freeway toward the notorious spot up in the mountains. “Well, if I had known, I wouldn't have made a reservation for us at that new Italian pizza spot.”

“Not really hungry,” you shrug, gripping at his inner thigh. “Not for food anyway.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows raise all the way up, a grin spreading on his face as he steps down on the gas pedal and switches to the fast lane. “Don’t think I’ve ever made it out here this fast.”

Directing him to park off in the more secluded area, you smirk and push your way past him to the backseat. “Let’s not waste time.” You say with a wink over your shoulder at him. “I’m so wet already.”

“Fuck.” He practically howls, using the door to get out and climb into the backseat with you. “You really weren’t playing with me with all those slutty pictures, huh?”

“Want you so much.” You say huskily, climbing onto his lap before he can fully even settle into the backseat. “All I can think about.”

Jaemin’s state of shock can’t leave him fast enough, groping his palms up and down your sides. He grabs onto your hips and squeezes, hissing between his teeth. “Fuck, you’re so sexy. Been waiting for you to be legal ever since I saw you last summer at my little bro’s party.”

That’s when it all started. Last summer when Jisung invited you to his graduation party. The group of guys you’d come to know as his older brother and college friends couldn’t take their perverse eyes off of you. The appeal of your innocence had struck a nerve for every single one of them, desperate to stay in touch with the forbidden fruit they knew better than to dare to take a bite of.

“You’ve been so good,” you hum, grabbing onto his bare biceps. Gripping the smooth soft skin between your digits. “So patient, waiting for me like such a good boy.”

Jaemin’s head falls back against the seat, front teeth exposed between his plump pink lips. Thick eyelashes fanning heavily over his lust-filled gaze. “You still a virgin?” He questions curiously, sliding his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. “Never heard a virgin talk like that..”

“I watch a lot of porn.” You say cheekily, running the tip of your nose against his. “And I’m so fucking horny.”

Jaemin’s throat bobs, hips jerking up under yours. “Fuck, you’re seriously something.”

To reaffirm that, you roll your hips down against his. Building up a fast and hard rhythm against his crotch. “Didn’t Jisung tell you about me? I gave him his first blow job.”

Letting out a howling laugh, he cups over your bra and squeezes your breasts. “Of course you did, that little fucker can’t believe he never mentioned it.”

“So greedy, wanted to keep me allll to himself.” You moan, wrapping around his built shoulders. “Fuck, that feels good.” Grinding down your hips faster, you fall into a rapid bouncing motion. Assisted by his large palms clutching your hips to rock you up and down his clothed hard-on even faster.

“Bet you can cum like this, nasty slut.” He pants between his teeth. Hammering his hips up to meet your middle with each slam against his cock. “Fuck you’re really dripping baby.”

The flimsy pajama shorts you snuck out in hardly do anything to conceal the thin material of underwear plastered to your cunt. Soaked through and pressed directly against Jaemin’s sweats as your shorts move to one side and fully expose your panties. “Making a mess all over me.”

Biting down hard on your lip, you nod against his forehead and swallow down throaty whimpers. “More more, gimme more!”

Jaemin slinks down into the backseat more, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist. He pulls you to his chest and rams his hips up faster. The sound of your covered bodies slamming down on each other fills the car between groans and stuck inhales of breath. Digging your nails into his shoulders as the friction builds and rubs your underwear against your clit painfully. “Ah! T-that hurts!” You whine, not stopping your lower half from fucking dowm against the material of his drenched sweats. “You’re so big!”

“Fuck, ah yeah.” He grunts, reaching lower to bury his hands inside the back of your shorts and grab onto your ass. “G-gonna fill you up so fucking good baby. Make you take my cock like a real whore.”

“Ah, please please.” Scrabbling at his chest, you circle your hips down with rabid need. Pressing your clothed clit right against his throbbing length to reach your orgasm. Sucking at his bottom lip, he concentrates on rolling you up and down on his size. Jerking up each time your pulse against his cock.

“Fuck yeah baby, just like that.” He nearly drools, shoving your shirt up with one hand to place his palm against your stomach. “Faster!”

Getting his other hand on your lower back, he ruts you against him vigorously. Mouth hung open as pre-cum drips out of his cock and makes his boxers sticky.

“Ah!” Falling against him, you tremble and wrap your weak hold onto his thick biceps. “I’m—I’m—“

Jaemin sits the both of you up straight again, jabbing his cock between your ruined panties. “Good fucking whore.”

“Fuck, ahh!”

Shaky hands run up his shoulders to his neck. Latching your lips onto his for a kiss that turns hungry within seconds. Seeking out each other’s taste through your release spilling out onto his groin. He licks at every crevice, sucking your tongue to steal your moan as he continues to fuck your clothed cunt after you’ve finished.

“S’too—“

“Shut the fuck up.” He spits, more aggressive as he slaps his hands down on your ass and throws you down against his cock. “Make me cum, virgin slut.”

Lights blare into the rearview window followed by the sound of rubble and rocks under rubber tires coming to a stop nearby. The bang of a door and heavy footsteps play between the sounds of your heavy panting, mixed moans and tongues gliding against each other.

“Shit babe, stop. It’s the cops.” He says in a breathy panic, gripping onto your hips with extra strength to stop your grinding. “Fuck, what the fuck.”

“Open up.” A tap tap tap hits against the backseat window, freezing both of you in place. “Police.”

“Shit, shit, oh my God.” Shoving you off, he quickly readjusts his hardened length. Swiping a palm down his face to clean off the sweat dripping down from his hairline. Sitting up and clearing his throat, he rolls down the window with a shaky smile. “Officer.”

A familiar face pops into view, bending down with his arms rested against the car window. “Do you know that you’re on private prop—“

“Hi daddy.”

Johnny’s face goes near white when you sit up behind Jaemin’s broad frame. Speech cut off by his loosened jaw hanging his mouth open.

“Ah, fuck.” Jaemin whispers under his breath, scratching at his neck nervously. “Officer, I’m sorry, I didn’t see any signs.. it’s so dark out here.”

“Get out of the car.” Johnny points at you, directing you toward the door at your side. “Now.”

“Okay.” Hiding a smile, you press to Jaemin’s side to leave a kiss against his ear. “Sorry about this, I’ll text you.”

Too afraid to speak, he nudges you away and frantically nods. “Just go, oh my god.”

“Ugh.” Rolling your eyes, you slide out of the backseat to be greeted by your step-father half-sat on the trunk of Jaemin’s car. “Didn’t know you parole the hills too.”

“I don’t normally.” He says much too calmly for your liking. “Officer that usually does has been on leave because his wife just gave birth. That’s why I’ve been working more this last week.”

“Oh.” You knew that, of course. Having stood in the hallway sneakily while he went over his extra hours with his lead. “I had no idea this was private property.”

Pushing off the car, he hooks onto your elbow. “Let’s get you home.”

“What?” Ripping out of his hold, you shove him away. “I’m on a date.”

“It’s 1 in the morning.” Deep lines resembling whiskers appear on his cheeks, sucking at the backs of his teeth. “Now,” opening up the passenger seat door to his cop car, he tips his chin toward you. “Get in.”

“Such bullshit.” You mutter, plopping into the cop car petulantly.

“Language.” Slamming the door shut, he rounds to the driver side, tapping the drunk of Jaemin’s car. “Get out of here boy.”

“Yes sir!” He calls out, running back to the front of the car to get his engine warmed up.

“Pussy.” You scoff to yourself, turning your torso to glare at your step-father. “Thanks for ruining my night.”

“Last I checked, you’re not even supposed to be out this late.” Reaching over to click in your seatbelt, he begins to drive off. “Since when do you sneak out past curfew? Is this something new I should look forward to now that you’re an adult?”

Johnny’s jaw twitches, tapping along the steering wheel without taking his eyes off the road. Tension between the passenger and driver seat grows thicker by the second, forcing your hands to ball up into tight fists.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask quietly, keeping your gaze lowered to your balled up hands.

“No, I’m not mad.” He sighs, gripping the wheel tighter. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Clearing his throat, he hums and squints. “Are you dating him?”

“No.”

“Right.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.” He huffs, exiting the freeway that takes you back home. “You snuck out behind my back to meet some guy that isn’t your boyfriend, why would I be mad.”

“Well you have no right to be mad, you’re not my fath—“

“I’m not your father.” Johnny finishes for you, pulling into the same empty spot on the street out in front of your house where he always parks the cop car when he’s working overtime. “But I am your legal guardian.”

“I’m eighteen.”

“I’m aware, you haven’t gone a day without reminding me.” He smiles softly, turning to face you. “Listen, I’m happy to see you out of your room, living life. Even if it means finding you at Agora Hills of all places with some boy.”

“He’s 21.” You mention to annoy him, unable to catch any sign of change in his calm expression.

“Yes, I saw his drivers license.” He informs, tight-lipped. “You still live under my roof and therefore must adhere to my rules.”

“I don’t want to.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you slump into the passenger seat. “Your rules are dated and overbearing.”

“Okay, which of my rules would you like to negotiate to change?”

“A ten o’clock curfew is ridiculous, I’m not a child anymore Johnny.”

“It is a bit late right now.” Motioning to the time on the car's dash, he runs a hand through his hair. A anxious habit of tugging at the ends. “How about midnight?”

“That’s still too early.”

“That’s two extra hours.” He says firmly. “And if you’re going to be out at these late hours with 21 year old men, I’d like to meet them first. For your safety, I’m not asking for anything outlandish here.”

“I already told you, he’s just some guy I’m fucking.” Sitting up, you make sure to emphasize the end of your sentence. “Well, would be fucking right now if you hadn’t interrupted.”

Johnny visibly swallows, tucking his bottom lip under the top row of his teeth to not respond abruptly with any anger. “You can’t expect me to be a virgin until I get married, Johnny. I’m an adult now, I have to go out and explore! It’s part of growing up!”

“Midnight, and no later. If you plan to stay out any later, I at least want you to come back home where I know you’re safe. And if I’ve already met him, he can even come over.”

“To my room?”

“With the door open.”

“Come on man!” Smacking the compartment between you, you lean closer to his face. “Would you rather me run out to Agora Hills every night behind your back to get railed in the backseat of some guy’s car? Or at least come home where you know my whereabouts?”

Pursing his lips tight, he leans away from you. “I have to get back to work, please, don’t sneak out again. We’ll discuss this tomorrow.”

Giving him a look that could kill, you grab onto the door handle to exit.

“By the way,” he looks over you much too fast. Turning away, showing off his perfect sharp jawline. ��You can do much better than some 21 year old loser that’s going to take you out to Agora Hills of all places.”

“Whatever.” Shoving the door open with too much force, you kick it shut like a total brat. “You’re ruining my life!” Storming to the front door, you glare at him over your shoulder for one more look.

Fuck he always looks so criminally good in his stupid uniform. Another night with your vibrator attached to your clit for hours until you go near blind would have to get you through this, again.

Flipping him off, you slam the door shut behind you and make the walk of shame to your bedroom with clenched thighs. Arguing with your step-dad always managed to get your blood boiling, heat churning through your stomach. He never argues back, never raises his voice at you, hardly ever even displays much of a reaction.

It’s sickening how watching this big hunk of an authoritarian man act so weak with you always gets you going. Crawling back to your bed, you search for the dildo you purchased using his account to ensure he’d see it in his purchase history. Johnny never said anything, he never does, practically allows you to walk all over him. Especially ever since your mother passed away. As fucked up as it is to take advantage of his kind heart, you can’t feel bad.

Turning to face your window, you wait for the sound of his engine to exit the street. Sighing to yourself as the buzz between your thighs gets louder and you turn on the highest setting.

You’re going to need it after that.

—————————————-

“So what is this? I thought you were dating Jaemin.”

“Dating?” You question with raised eyebrows full of sarcasm.

“You know what I mean..” he remarks equally as sarcastically. Leaning against the hood of his car. His baby really.

Everyone knows about Jeno’s legendary sports car that he spends hours working on. The exterior beams shinier than any cheek highlighter could ever with the amount of time he spends waxing it. Endless summers of working odd jobs that hired underage teenagers with a permit for some chump change finally garnered him enough to set down a decently size down payment.

The ridiculous sports car zooming around your town always seemed to piss off the local police, most specifically your step-father.

“I want you to take me to Agora Hills.” You say cheerfully, tapping at his thick arms crossed over his chest.

“Pfft, I don’t go up there.”

“Why not?” You pout, making him roll his eyes.

“So your daddy can prowl my ass and slap me with a ticket? No thanks.” Jeno scoffs, grabbing your wrists before you’re able to smack his biceps again.

“Don’t call him that.” Unable to tug yourself out of his grip, you lean in closer to his chest. “He’s my step-dad.”

“Narc is what he is, I swear that dick head pulls me over at least every other week.” Jeno grunts, tugging your arms down to pull you closer to him, chest to chest. “We can go to my place, sneak through the back. My parents won’t know you’re there.”

“Nooo, I wanna go to Agora Hills.” You whine, continuing to pout with a stomp of your foot. “Wanna suck you off in the backseat of your fuck-mobile.”

Jeno’s eyebrow raises, half-laughing with a curious glint in his gaze. “Never heard that one before.”

“You’ve also never given me a taste before.” With a cunning smirk, you press in closer. Teasing his chin with a flick of your tongue. “Stop being so selfish.”

“What’s with you and that spot? I don’t get the big deal.”

“Every girl wants to lose their virginity up at Agora Hills.”

Jeno seems awestruck for a moment, nudging his nose against your cheek. “You’re a virgin?”

“Did Jaemin tell you that I’m not?”

A pleased smirk slowly creeps onto his face, lowering his gaze to your lips. “If every girl dreams of getting fucked out there, I can only imagine how often you dream about getting fucked in the backseat of my car.”

“Let’s go.”

—————————————-

“I like your lips.” Jeno leans back against his seat after parking. Slowly dragging his gaze from your eyes to your lip gloss lathered mouth. “Bet they’d look really nice, all swollen and red, wrapped up pretty around my cock.”

Smoothing a hand down his stomach, he runs his bony long digits down the zipper of his jeans. “Do you like sucking cock?”

He’s already hard, rubbing over the bulge that’s pressed against his crotch. Lazily teasing at himself as you check him out and your eyes bounce over his lower half. “I haven’t.. done it too much.”

“Pftt..” his tongue clicks, tracing the outline of his member along the material of his pants. “That’s a shame.. I like girls with experience.”

“I like to learn.” You say abruptly, dropping your chin shyly. “I may not be experienced but you can teach me how to do whatever you like..”

“Are you asking me to train you?” He asks smuggly, smirking to one side. “Train you on how to suck my cock?”

“If that’s what you want..”

Jeno seems pleased by your response, eyes bouncing and sparkling with intrigue. Seemingly enjoying how embarrassed and humiliated you’ve become from his questions. “Show me your tits.” He says flatly, leaning deeper into his seat.

Anything Jeno says to you right now has to be done. You’re here with a mission and it’s to make sure you get caught, even if it means taking off your top. Throwing it aside, you sit up on the passenger seat on your knees. Dragging your hands up your stomach to cup under your bra-clad breasts. Shoving your cleavage up together, bouncing your perky mounds of fat for his enjoyment.

Jeno reaches out to land a slap on one of your tits, humming and moving your hand out of his way to cradle one of your breasts. Sweeping his thumb down, he presses roughly against your nipple. Smoothing his fingers over your chest to squeeze and pinch the hardened bud through the fabric of your bra. “You have great tits.” He notes, all while focused on your chest. His other hand reaches out so that he can massage both of your breasts. “Nice and big.”

It’s hot in his car now, arching your back forward for him to enjoy your chest more. Nipples tugged at, lowering the cups of your bra underneath your tits so that he can properly flick and squeeze at them. Underwear grows uncomfortably damp pressed against your core, gripping your thighs together harshly to stop yourself from bursting out a tunnel of hot liquid. “Like how I play with your pretty titties?”

“Uh-huh..” you mutter quietly, looking down at how large and veiny his hands look while squeezing your fleshy fat. Digging the tips of his fingers into your tits as if you’re some type of stress ball.

“Bet they’d look so good milking my cock.” He hisses between his teeth. “You wet for me now, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes,” you nod eagerly. Throat dry, voice shaky to hold in your moans. He continues to pinch, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Bet your wet pussy’s throbbing, aching to feel my cock.” He says, hands dropping back to his crotch. Inhales of air fight your dry throat, watching as his hand drags down his zipper once again. Tented large against his tight jeans, he sits up straight and slowly begins to free himself; sucking in a deep breath as he gingerly pulls his cock out.

Heat flushes down your chest, struggling to take your next breath. He strokes once, twice, three times to spread around the precum gathered at his slit. Veiny cock pulsating against his palm with each drag, the glistening head so flushed it looks near red.

“You’re really.. fucking big.” You drool, spit pooled all around your tongue. “I always thought you would be, with how cocky you are.”

“You talk too much, you know that?” Jeno scoffs, flicking your chin. “Show me that mouth is useful for something more than yapping.” Pinching your chin, he shoves his pants down lower and settles back with his hands behind his head. “You wanted to suck my dick? Start sucking, and be careful to not use your teeth.”

Dropping your jaw open with a thrilled nod, you bend over to get your mouth positioned above his erect cock. Drooling for a taste with your tongue lolled out over your bottom lip.

Gripping around the base of his size, he slides his other hand into the back of your hair and grips tightly. “Keep those pretty lips open nice and wide for me baby. Lay your cheek down on my thigh like this.” Pulling on your hair, he angles your face to the side so that he can watch the tip of his dick drag along your upper lip. Smearing your glittering lip gloss all over his already shiny cockhead.

“You look so fucking cute like this.” He grins, biting back a groan when you start to flick your tongue out against his slit. “Wanna see you take every inch.”

The angles not the best for your neck, especially positioned in his car to not jab your stomach with his shift. You open wide for him to begin feeding his length inside of your mouth. Eyebrows furrowing once he gets a few inches in and you feel a painful stretch pull at your lips. Pushing in past the gagging sounds that reverberate around him, he aids the glide with a press of his hand to the back of your neck. “Come on pretty, take all of it.”

Already taking in loud deep breaths through his nose, he grits his teeth and releases the base of his size. Sliding the last few inches in despite how you choke and tighten up around him. It feels too good to stop now, fucking spit out past your mouth with his thick cock filling you up. The tip meeting his palm laid out on the back of your neck. “Sucking dick like a pornstar.” He rasps. Deep tone falling even lower, husky and thick with horny lust.

Gathering a bundle of your hair, he pushes against your stuffed mouth once more. Testing out how much your gag reflex can handle with half of his dick already resting heavy in the back of your throat. The extra gurgle of spit that spills out around him allows his hips to speed up and thrust in and out. Using the extra lubrication to thrust again and again and again. Holding you down roughly as a throaty deep groan exits his lips and you suffocate on his cock. Lurching around the massive intrusion, flailing your hands and slapping his thighs.

“Holy fuck that’s so good!” Jeno cries out. Lifting his hips off of the car seat as he bottoms out inside of your mouth once again. Tears spring free from your eyes, panting heavily through your nose. The biggest cock you’ve ever swallowed fucks your throat hard enough to leave it’s shape behind. The heady scent of tangy ball sweat and soap fills your head, forgetting that you’re here to piss off your step-father as your hair gets pulled at roughly once more.

Wet gagging fills up the car, the sound of skin clashing against skin emitting with the forceful thrusts he delivers. Cum-filled sack slapped against your cheek each time further solidifying what a whore you are right now.

Jeno throws his head back letting out another howled moan. Holding your head down and grinding his cock in your throat with circling hips. Agonizing seconds go on like minutes, and all you can do is swallow and heave around him. Making the biggest mess of drool and tears beneath his ass. The resistance to gag again becomes weaker the longer he keeps you there, nose pressed up against the stubble of pubic hair left from shaving a few days ago.

Finally hauling your mouth off pours out an obscene amount of spit. Drenching his thighs and groin with tons of it as you continue to hold in your gag and cough, gasping for air with wide teary eyes. “J-Jeno—“

“What a fucking good cock slut you are.” He sneers, brutally grasping your cheeks. His fingers dig into the hollows, shaking your head side to side. “Tried to lie to me, sucking dick like it’s oxygen.” He scoffs, releasing your cheeks with a wet slap to your face. Not too hard but enough to shock you, turn your neck to one side. “If I’d known you could take cock like this..”

He whistles, cupping your face with both hands to look at him. “Look so pretty like this.” Picking the wads of spit clinging to your chin, his palm rubs all over your face. Mascara stained down your cheeks, lips dried of gloss and swollen from painfully stretching out.

Smacking at your cheek again, he pulls your bottom lip open for your tongue to hang out. Kissing at the backs of his teeth as he presses down the center of your tongue. “Fucking nasty.”

Without another second to waste, he shoves your head back down and kicks his hips up. Lining his cock up to your mouth with ease, no guided direction needed. Fucking deep into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat again. Swallowing around his cock sliding through your wet mouth, pulsating on your tongue, trapping your air to the point of feeling lightheaded. His hands slap down on the back of your head, pushing his hips up with violent thrusts.

“Throat taking me so fucking good.” Jeno’s teeth grind. Hips falling back down to the seat with wet splats only to thrusts even rougher into your mouth. Heavy sack slapping your face harder than before. “Slutty throat, just another hole for me to use and ruin.”

A loud broken groan leads to him pulling you off, smacking his fat wet cock down on your cheek. Shoving your messed up hair out of your face to begin dragging his long girth down the center of your nose.

Lights streak through the car window, an alarm ripping you both out of your horny daze. Jerking through your spine as you cough under his length and squint up at the bright’s illuminating his face.

“Fuck. Shit. Get off of me!” Jeno curses, shoving himself away from you with his hands pushing against the backseat. “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have come up here with you.”

Your step-dad’s timing is really something. Not that you planned everything perfectly to make sure he always finds you before anything can actually escalate and go too far between you and whatever guy you’ve managed to lure up here.

No, that would be diabolical wouldn’t it? Your step-father would be the last to believe that any of this could possibly be on purpose. He loves you too much to believe negatively of you. That’s what eats away at you sometimes. He’s just too damn nice to you to the point that it drives you insane. Because you want him—no, you need him to be anything but nice to you. Your mother would have scolded him for spoiling you all of the time, for accepting what an insolent brat you’ve been ever since her funeral.

Knock knock knock taps at the backseat window on Jeno’s side. You ignore it and continue to search for your top, knowing this is likely where your night ends.

“It’s your dad.” He says under his breath, pushing down the window button to open. “Officer.”

“Lee.” He sounds calm and easy as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary, no tension or frustration there. It’s infuriating, he should sound fucking pissed. His head pops into view, leaning over the car window with a soft smile and nod in your direction. “Hello, again.”

“Daddy.” You smile coquettishly. Wiping your chin off with the back of your hand and leaning over Jeno to get closer to him. “Is there a problem, officer?”

“Get out of the car.” Johnny says deeply. Tone falling into a serious one before tapping the hood of the vehicle and pulling away to stand up straight. “Right now.”

Jeno snickers quietly, nodding his chin for you to exit his car. “Whatever.” You mumble, using extra force to slam his backseat door shut.

“It’s 1am, you know?” Your step-father asks, eyes dragging down your frame. His eyebrows furrowed together as he takes in how crumpled and strewn your t-shirt looks. How obscenely tiny and tight your shorts are. How he’s never seen your eyes and lips this swollen before. The light makeup you had on earlier ruined and smeared down your cheeks. “What did I tell you about coming out here?”

“Oh come on, you want me to be the only freak in this town that never visits Agora Hills? So I can be ostracized by every girl when I start school up again? What if I want to join a sorority?!” You complain, huffing past him with a roll of your eyes. “God, you seriously expect me to be known as some damn loser too depressed to ever go out ever since my mom died.”

Johnny grabs a hold of your arm before you reach the passenger door of his vehicle, spinning you around to face him. “Is that what this is about? You’re worried the other kids in school will judge you for being.. sad?”

“I’m not a kid!” Shouting at him, you stomp angrily. Further proving how immature and volatile you still handle your emotions. “I’m eighteen!!”

Taking a deep breath and a step back, he nods and releases your arm. “Yes, I know.” His eyebrows wrinkle together, rubbing at his cheeks hard enough to drag the aged skin down. Pulling at his face with a frustrated sigh. “I’m doing my best.”

“You think you are? You think this is your best?” You poke at him, stepping into his space to look up at him. Having to crane your neck to keep direct eye contact. “You can’t even bring yourself to punish me daddy.”

Johnny staggers for a moment, cheeks hallowed, droopy eyes darkening for a flash of a second.

“I—I don’t want to punish you.” He whispers. Dropping his hands down to his hips defeatedly. “You’ve been through enough.”

“Then maybe you’re not fit to be a father. Certainly not my father.” You say snidely, turning your back to him to get inside of his cop car.

Johnny watches you fold your arms over your chest, slamming your back into the passenger seat. Shivering at the sound of the car door rattling shut from the forceful impact you use to shut it. If he was stronger, he’d be able to say something, to do something about your behavior.

Instead he opens the passenger door to open up the glove compartment to retrieve a pack of tissues. He won’t ask anything, he won’t even speculate or allow himself to imagine what could have ruined your mascara like this. He dabs your cheeks clean instead, leaving the rest of the tissues on your lap for you to use before buckling your seatbelt in and rounding the car to drive you home.

You’re right, he’s not fit to be a father, especially not a widowed one who's been deprived of the touch of another for months now. He can’t even figure out how to deal with his own morbid thoughts, the sad empty black hole that’s formed in his heart. How is he supposed to do what’s best for you? And what is best for you exactly...

Can’t be the thoughts he shoves aside that keep him up at night. The quiet things he envisions when his eyes finally fall shut. The way he buries his face into your basket of dirty laundry, spends extra time folding everything up for you just so he can vividly imagine what you’d look like in all of the different pairs of underwear he washed for you.

He’s only surprised the spirit of your mother hasn’t stricken him to suffer an eternity in purgatory yet..

—————————————-

“Oh, you’re not working today?”

Johnny’s head lifts from the couch, his sleepy eyes blinking a few times before unblurring the image of you in nothing but his boxers and a baggy old tshirt of his.

“I’m off today.” He mutters quietly, tight-lipped as he looks you over again. “Where did you find that?”

Making your way to the couch, you pull on the hem of his shirt. Scrunching up the worn down fabric between your fingers and tugging. “Oh this? I think it got mixed in with my laundry a few months back.” With a smile you plop down right next to him. Avoiding the massive empty space on the couch you could have taken up, instead nestling into his side. “What should we watch?”

He frowns, not wanting to question why you’re wearing a pair of his tattered checkered print boxers. The same way your mother often would in the past, along with his old band shirts..

You probably just miss her is all. He misses her too, every hour and minute of his life. Not that seeing you resemble her almost down to a tea makes him feel any better, only consumed by guilt as he steals another look at you.

“Dad?” You speak up, wrapping around his arm to alert him. “You’re zoning out again.”

Again, yes. He does that a lot these days.

“Sorry, uhm, your choice sweetie. Been working so much these days I’m not even sure what’s new on tv.”

“Good thing for you, all I do is watch TV.” You grin, cuddling into his side more. Draping your head and neck along his shoulder.

Johnny’s used to it, you’ve always been rather touchy with him. He doesn’t mind it at all, always took pride in how comfortable you felt around him. He’d never want to make you feel any other way. More than honored to be referred to as your dad when you introduce him, he hums and smiles. Leaning back against the couch cushion with his half shut eyes. “Nothing too scary, I don’t want you staying up having nightmares all night again.”

“Oh come onnnn dad I was like thirteen!!” You whine, slapping his chest. “Besides, you’d let me sleep with you if I got scared, right? Just like back then.” You add with a sneaking smile, nuzzling in even closer.

Your mom had seemed slightly annoyed back then when you came into their room crying during the middle of the night. You’d climbed between them in bed and curled into Johnny’s front, wrapping your small arms around him. He’d never known what it was like to be a father until he had the chance to help raise you. Even now he’s not sure he’s really doing this right..

Ignoring how warm and small you feel pressed to his side, he clears his throat.

“That boy last night..” he says softly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Do you like this one?”

A playful glint in your gaze finds his look of confusion. Directing the remote toward his face, you smile. “I like something about him a whole lot, more than any other boy.”

“Is he—this one, your boyfriend?”

“None of them are my boyfriend.” Turning toward him to face him better, you lay a hand against his chest. “None of them really deserve to be my boyfriend.”

It’s normal to experiment and make experiences to learn what you like, what you’re looking for. He has to bite his tongue to keep that to himself. It’s not actually any of his business who you end up forming a relationship with; not unless that boy wants to make it his business. Pursing his lips, he nods firmly, changing his focus back to the tv to drop this topic.

“Besides, Jaemin, Jeno.. they’re not exactly my type.” You add with a flirty tone. “Like Lana sang, I got a taste for men that’s older.”

Johnny’s spine freezes at that, not wanting to engage you anymore. “Should probably find something to watch before it gets too late.”

“What about you daddy?” You practically squeak, crawling your digits up his chest. “You haven’t tried to date at all since mom passed. I wouldn’t judge you for dating someone younger.. I know men have needs.”

Taking a quick hold of your hand, he has to control himself from crushing your palm in his. A serious gaze silently warning you before clearing his throat. “I really have no interest in dating anyone else. Losing your mother has been one of the biggest most unforeseeable losses I’ve ever experienced. No one will ever match up to her for me.”

A look of disappointment paints across your face, turning your lips downward as you slowly nod. “No one?”

“No one.” Johnny says between gritted teeth, releasing your hand. “Let’s watch something already, alright? I need to catch up on sleep tonight.”

The same solemn pout stays on your face even after finding a movie to watch. Some cheesy romcom that Johnny can’t help to think your mom would have loved, you always would spend your weekends watching them together with her. Now you only have him, it’s only normal that you’re acting up more than usual. You always were a good girl, never disobeyed your mother’s rules..

He can’t let you walk down the wrong path, it’s not what she would have wanted for you. Getting caught in the backseat of random boys cars up at damn Agora Hills of all places. She’d be let down, likely punish you and ban your phone privileges for weeks..

He can’t do that to you though. Not when he’s hurting this much and knows inside of his heart that you can only be hurting so much more.

At least he’ll be able to keep an eye on you if you do sneak out there again anytime soon. The one privilege he has over your life as a cop on duty, to at least stop you from trespassing and breaking any laws.

These thoughts riddle him more and more to the point of exhaustion. Lightly snoring halfway into the movie before the lead actors can even share their first kiss. The sound of his huffed breaths between soft snores catches your ear, gingerly picking your head up from his shoulder to look at him.

He’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. High sculpted cheekbones, beautiful long brown eyes, his straight nose and jawline sharp enough to cut through glass. And his lips, his thick pouty lips that linger through your mind day and night. They tease and taunt each time he talks to you, whether he’s tucking in his bottom lip or speaking with extra emphasis on his juicy pout. You can’t stop dreaming about what they’d feel like against yours, how soft and yet powerful a kiss from your step-dad could be..

Hovering your fingers near the tendrils of hair that have fallen over his forehead, you slowly ease them back. Stroking through his scalp softly much like your mother used to when Johnny would come home late from working, exhausted and resting on her lap, lulled to sleep so easily.

He can’t really believe that no one will ever peak his curiosity or make his heart pound again? He’s too young to live so miserably.. to never love again. A push in the right direction is all he needs, someone to set off alarms inside of him that have stayed dormant for months. If anyone can make him happy again, it’s you.

You can fulfill that emptiness in his chest, bring butterflies back to life in his stomach, give him a sense of worth to take care of somebody else..

He stirs after a bit, blinking slowly, reaching to wipe drool away from the corners of his lips. Tired droopy eyes failing to stay open when he sees you still by him. “Fell asleep, sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re tired. We can go to bed.”

“Sorry.” He mouths again, groaning as he sits up and you latch onto his arm to help him stand.

“You don’t have to apologize for being tired. You’ve been working really late.”

“Mmm… we both have been up too late these days, haven’t we?” Johnny stops at his bedroom door. Leaning against the wall with a stern raised eyebrow. “Should I expect to catch you out past curfew again?”

“Curfew doesn’t matter anymore daddy.” You smile sweetly, poking his chest. “I’m an adult now.”

He frowns for only a second, looking away as a deep exhausted sigh exits his mouth. “Might be corny to hear, but you’ll always be a little sweet girl to me.”

He isn’t watching to see the sheer look of disappointment dragging your smile away. Having to bite down on your teeth to contain your annoyance, you force an amused smirk. “Your little girl? Will I always be yours?”

Johnny’s tired sleep-ridden gaze trails upward, blinking away from your lips to your sparkling awaiting eyes. Pressing the side of his head to the door, he shrugs and nods. “Of course sweetie, for as long as you’ll need me. I’ll forever be indebted to you.”

It’s not exactly what you want to hear, but it’s enough. Reaching for his waist, you slink your arms through to wrap around him. Smashing your cheek to his chest for a warm hug. “You mean everything to me daddy, you’re the only reason I’m still here.”

There’s more implication behind your words than he’d prefer to fully understand. Floating hands hover over your back, slowly shutting his eyes as he succumbs and squeezes you close to himself. Maybe this is why he lets you get away with everything, your mom would berate him for it. Say that he was far too easy on you, all it took was one cute little smile from you and he’d be wrapped around your finger. He just wanted to be a good father figure for you, that’s all..

“I’ve been having nightmares again.” You whisper, rubbing your face against his chest. “Like before..”

“Like before?”

After your mother had passed, he heard you crying in the middle of the night. Pushing your cracked door fully open to find you curled up in bed shaking and wracked by sobs..

Johnny had held you and tried to comfort you as you wailed, screamed your cries and clutched at him desperately. It was the hardest few weeks he ever had to endure. Staying up for countless hours to make sure you eventually would get some sleep. You shared with him eventually that you’d see her everytime you tried to sleep. Met with the visual of your mother whenever your eyes would fall shut.

He didn’t know what to do back then other than hold you and repeat that everything would be okay, he’d always be here for you.

“Can I sleep with you?” You ask against his chest, sliding your hands down to his waist. Johnny shivers under your touch, batting his eyes open.

“In my room?..”

“Please daddy, I don’t want to be alone tonight. I feel.. lonely.”

Between fighting off how exhausted he is and the pathetic sad look on your face, he sighs. Losing the ability to keep his back straight and shoulders broad. He rubs up and down your spine and nods. “I can sleep on the floor.”

The look on your face morphs in less than a second, from distressed to furious. You push away, quickly wiping at your wet eyes. “Actually, it’s okay. I’m being dramatic.”

“Hu—what?” Johnny grabs at the door frame to stand up straight. Shaking his head to be more alert.

“You need to sleep good tonight, you have work tomorrow.” Tight lipped, you force a smile and take a few steps back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————————————-

“What are you doing here?” Wiping a cloth down his chest, the tall blond cleans the stains of oil and dirt. Mixing his sweat with the mess that working on his car has created on his long torso. He squints at you standing by the end of his driveway, the sun going down behind you making it harder for him to really get a good look at you.

Such a shame that he can’t appreciate the cute summer dress you planned just for today, how you spent over an hour doing your hair, the new lipgloss you used to make your lips shine and pop.

“Didn’t your daddy tell you to stay away from me?” Jungwoo smirks, tossing the used towel on top of the hood of his car.

“Wanted to see your pretty car, you’ve been working so hard on it all week.” You say flirtatiously, moving closer to hug the driver door. Leaned against his classic Cadillac like a vixen straight out of a model car show.

“My pretty car,” he chuckles, stretching his arms up to show off how defined his stomach muscles are. “You mean my pristine mint condition 1959 series 62 cherry red Cadillac?”

“Yeah, that.” Rolling your eyes with a smile, you round the car to poke his navel. “When are you taking me out?”

“You’re hilarious.” Jungwoo shoves your hand away, nodding his chin to your house down the street. “What? Daddy’s on duty or something?”

“Who cares.”

“Last time he saw you around me, he waved handcuffs in my face and told me to keep my distance if I don’t want to wake up with my car impounded.” Grabbing onto your wrist, lifts an eyebrow. “You might have some corruption kink, but no pussy is worth losing my car over.”

“I’d give you more than just my pussy.” You lie, scooting back to press your ass against the hood of his car. “Come on, he’s out of town. Now’s probably one of our only chances.”

Jungwoo grins, stroking up your lotioned smooth calves to your knees. “When’s he come back?”

“Late tomorrow, but we can’t do anything at my place.. he has security cameras.”

“That’s not a problem.” Jungwoo shrugs, pushing your thighs open. “That why you came over here all pretty? Smelling all nice for me.”

“We can go out to the hills, I know you just moved out here but it’s pretty common.” Pushing your thighs open more, you gather your dress to show off your pretty baby pink lace panties. Uncomfortable as hell, but they spark his interests, caressing up your inner thighs softly with a hum. “Everyone goes out to Agora to fuck..”

“Yeah? To fuck?”

Your step-dad had complained about how rundown your neighborhood had become in the last few years. Allowing any old trash to move in. He certainly was not a fan of your newest neighbor Jungwoo Kim, rolling down the street with his obnoxiously loud engine revving up loud enough to shake each house he drove by. Johnny wouldn’t stop complaining about him for the rest of that day, throwing out comments to you that it’d be best if you avoid ‘men like that’. If only he had any idea that all you wanted after that was to do the complete opposite.

“Fine, I gotta take a quick shower.” Licking at his lips, he swipes a thumb over your clothed slit. “Come by to get you in an hour.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

—————————————-

“So, Agora Hills? I thought shit like this only existed in stupid sitcoms.” Jungwoo laughs, setting his car in park at the top of the hill overlooking the entire town.

That’s the point, someone decided to claim this large space of land up on this hill as a place to lose your virginity. To enter adulthood, to check off the right of passage that changes one from sexually inexperienced to a lush. It’s been known as the spot for as long as you can remember, that’s the only reason Johnny’s even aware of what takes place up here.

He used to venture with different girls up to Agora Hills throughout his high school and college years. He can’t really blame you for doing the same, it’s simply the way things go here.

“It’s nice up here.” You smile, peering out of the front windshield at the city lights that burn bright from this high. The greenery that creates more shadows in the dark. The starry sky dimly lighting up the area around you. “The energies different, right?”

Jungwoo bites on his bottom lip, leaning over the front seat of his car with ease since the old model has nothing to stop him from getting closer to you. He drapes an arm around your shoulder, presses in to drag his nose down your cheek. “It’d be nicer if we were fucking.”

Plush lips find yours, using his tongue right away to lick between and garner access inside of your mouth. Freshly washed up after working on his car all day, he wafts the aroma of body wash and clean soap smell around you. Minty tongue still carrying traces of mouthwash. Jungwoo’s not interested in wasting time or getting to know you. Only in one way really.

Johnny was right to tell you to keep your distance from men like him. That’s why you had to go for him. In less than a minute he’s already swiping between your thighs, cupping over your lace covered mound. Shoving his tongue deep inside of your mouth with more confidence and aggression than Jaemin and Jeno had initially.

He’s older(25 to be exact), Johnny hates that. His car is absurdly noisy, Johnny hates that. He blasts music loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood early in the morning every weekend, Johnny really fucking hates that.

“Jungwoo,” you moan softly, pushing at his chest. “S-slow down a little.”

“Pft, come on. Don’t give me that shit, you’ve been teasing me for weeks.” He mutters against your lips, biting on your lower one to let you know how annoyed he is.

“Please, I’m—I’m a virgin.” You whisper feebly.

“What??” Jungwoo pulls back, ragged and out of breath. Lips all pink and swollen from kissing you roughly. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“N-no, my step-dad’s really protective..”

“The cop.”

“Mhmm..”

Shaking off an annoyed laugh, he rubs the top of your thigh closest to him. “I hate using condoms. Not gonna fuck you with one your first time either if you’re expecting some kind of princess treatment from me.”

“I don’t..”

But you also have no intention to actually lose your virginity in the front seat of his Cadillac. Not when you know your step-father started his rounds a little over an hour ago. From your estimation, he’ll be on his way up the hill in no less than 15-20 minutes. If finding you with the neighbor he can’t fucking stand doesn’t break him, then maybe it’s time to give up.

“You ever touch yourself?” Jungwoo asks, interrupting your thoughts. Gripping the hem of your dress before dragging it up and off of your body. He reaches between your legs again, rushing to scoop your cunt with the entirety of his large palm. Digging the heel of it against your covered clit. “Like this?”

“Unghh..” you nod slowly, grinding against the pressure.

“Tell me more.” Jungwoo’s nose flicks against your chin. Applying pressure down on your clit. “What turns you on? I want you dripping wet.”

Your step-father, Johnny. Unbuttoning his uniform. Sat stressed out at the kitchen island with his head hung between his shoulders, eyebrows furrowed together. The way he looks fresh out of the shower when he doesn’t know that you’re watching him. Droplets of water cling to his smooth bare skin, the tattoo on his bicep rippling with each movement, the pink blotches sprinkled across his back and chest from using boiling hot water.

Johnny’s always on your mind when you touch yourself. He’s the first thing you see when you shut your eyes to fall asleep. He’s the first face you envision when you wake up and rub your eyes, sighing and whimpering to yourself. How he could be one room away and still so far drove you crazier by the minute. Creating more outlandish scenarios in your head as hours went by throughout your day and he’d be hard at work protecting the streets.

It may seem sick to some but your step-father has always been a man you could admire. He never failed you, even now when he should punish you, lock you up with no access to your phone- he doesn’t. He loves you too much to make you suffer anymore than you already have. Do you deserve his patience?

Jungwoo’s teeth nip at your cheek, shoving his hand inside of your panties when you fail to answer with a dazed look in your eyes.

“Y-you,” you mumble, stroking down his forearm to his wrist. “Older guys like you.”

It’s not a complete lie. Most of your wet dreams consisted of your step-father reminding you of how much older he is than you. How much bigger he is than you. How wrong this is. What a disappointment your mother would deem you. She’d be so upset with you, exploiting yourself like this just for your step-fathers attention. She didn’t raise you to be this way, but she’s not here anymore. You only have Johnny now, his presence and existence in your life. Nothing more, nothing less.

But you need all of him. You want it all.

“Slut.” Jungwoo sucks at his bottom lip, pinching your clit between two of his digits. “Only eighteen?”

“Mhm..”

A sadistic smile grows on his face, sliding two digits lower between your folds. “And a virgin, fuck. I can’t remember the last time I fucked a virgin.”

and he still won’t remember after this, judging by the time.. your step-dad will be here soon. At least you hope he will be…

Tips of rough calloused fingers tap against your tight hole, sucking in a deep breath as he adds a little pressure. “Fuck.. you’re so small.”

Licking down your cheek, he nibbles his way to your jawline. Teeth dragging and layering kisses down to your chin. “Messy as fuck, virgin cunt soiling through my car I bet. Wanna eat you out, bet you taste so good.”

Blood rushes to your ears, firmly shutting your eyes and slumping deeper into his passenger seat. “Anyone ever ate out your tight pussy before, angel?”

Jungwoo’s tongue flicks out, lapping up your chin to your mouth. Swallowing the moaned muffled ‘no’ you let out.

“I get to do the honors.” He trails off, prodding at your sensitive hole before sliding his hand free. “Come here.” Grabbing onto your hips, he manhandles you into a better position. Back leaned against the passenger door, cupping under your thigh with a large hand to pull you apart. “Open your pretty cunt for me just like this.” He huffs breathily, gently placing the back of your calf onto the seat. Obscenely sprawled out with your other leg on the car’s floor still.

Not bothering to pull off your panties, he shoves them to one side. Quietly whistling between his pink lips, he drags a thumb down the center of your parted open folds. “Fuck, you’re really..” his head shakes, bending in closer to gawk at your cunt up close. The dim light entering the car makes your arousal appear more as a glossy coat on your thighs. Glistening under the bright lit moonlight. “So wet. Can probably make you squirt so easily.”

Squirt? You think you mutter, dragging the back of your head against the car window.

A gruff sound leaves his lips, lowering his mouth to your pussy without another second to waste. His tongue pokes out, gently tracing between your wet folds. Teasing side to side until your hips squirm and he lets out a pleased rumble. “Fuck, you taste better than a dream.” He gasps, eyes rolling up to meet yours from the angle he’s at.

Dropping his mouth back down, he keeps his gaze fixated on your. Sharp eyes lazily hooded, pressing firmer licks between your pussy folds. Rolling the muscle of his tongue up and over your swollen clit. He teases there until your toes curl, reaching your hands out toward him helplessly in search of something to grab onto.

The thick width of his tongue drags down, laps at your entrance. Testing the stretch with the tip of his tongue pushing inside with a vibrating groan that has you reaching for his hair.

It’s too much after edging yourself for hours to the thought of your step-father today. After sneaking into his bedroom as he showered to lick at his gun, sucking at it before shoving the barrel inside of your hole while Johnny jerked himself off in the shower.

“F-fuck, I’m—I’m cu—“

Gravel. Tires skidding. A harsh pull of a car brake. Bright lights and a loud clash from a door slamming. He’s here.

The knock at Jungwoo’s car window is incessant, rapid and angry. Ripping himself off of you, he loudly curses, smearing the back of his hand across his lips before yelling for your step-father to stop out of fear that he’ll shatter the glass. “God fucking damnit.”

Rolling it down manually with renowned speed and a frightful gaze, he locks eyes with Johnny’s thinned out furious ones. Sinking down and reaching inside of the car to grab his neck with one large hand. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing boy?!”

Jungwoo squeals, eyes bulging out of shock and fear. He slaps at Johnny’s wrist, trying to call for your help.

“Daddy! Let go of him!” You shriek, grabbing your dress to hold against yourself. Trembling at the sight of your step-father in this state. He’s never looked so angry, terrifying really..

“Get out of this car. Right now.” He says sternly, burning into you with a laser focused look in his eyes. “Now.”

His demanding tone has you racing to reach the passenger door, not even bothering to get your dress back on before running over to where he still stands hunched over with an unyielding chokehold on Jungwoo’s throat. “Daddy, please! Please stop! Let go of him!”

Wrapping your arms around his bicep, you try to pull. Failing to make him budge and losing your footing when he stands up abruptly. “You, right there.” He points to the hood of the car, reaching for his back pocket to retrieve a pair of handcuffs.

“I told you I’d be on your ass if you ever came near my daughter.” He sneers at Jungwoo, grabbing his arm by the car door. He drags the younger’s wrist to the seatbelt, latching the handcuff shut to trap him to his driver seat. “And you.”

Turning toward you, he points to the hood again. Grabbing your shoulders to spin you around and bend you over, chest pressed flat to the car hood.

“Daddy!” You squeak, breath caught in your throat.

“Don’t.” He growls, slotting his hips to your bottom to keep you in place. Using one large powerful hand to lock your wrists together against your lower back. The feeling of his big warm body sends your mind into a frenzy, pressing your cheek down on the car as a whimper slips free and you meet Jungwoo’s petrified gaze through the windshield. “What did I tell you about the Kim boy down the street?” Johnny asks, controlling the anger in his tone.

“T-to—stay—away from h-him,” you whine, slamming your eyes shut. “T-too old for me.”

“But you like them older, right?” Weight drops down on your back. Heavy and crushing, pressing his hot mouth to your ear. “You love to disobey me, why is that?”

“N-no daddy..”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He bites, teeth snapping down loudly. The dominant tone melting you down, struggling to breathe with his chest on your back, the full weight of his groin shoved against your ass. “What happened to being a good little girl?”

“I-I—I—“ speechless is what you are. Not processing one single clear thought under him. The cool car hood encasing night air keeps you sane enough to stop losing your mind to the heat taking over your body. This isn’t really happening, your step-father.. he’d never act this way. Unless you finally succeeded, you got your wish, you broke him down..

“Tell me the truth, you’ve been a bad girl.” His free hand snakes to your throat. Knocking the breath out of your chest as his palm lays flat and everything around you reminds you of how much fucking bigger he is than you. How much older, stronger, more powerful he is. It’s every horny dream that’s ever interrupted your sleep, but so real, so fucking real. “That’s what you want to be now? Daddy’s bad little girl.”

Oh fuck. This can’t be really happening.

“N-no, daddy’s good girl.” You cry, turning your head enough to look at him from the corner of your eye. “Your g-good girl.”

“It’s my fault. I gave you too much. Let you think you could do whatever the fuck you wanted without any repercussions.” The bridge of his nose presses to your cheekbone. Electric eyes filled with flames locked on yours. “Need to put you back in your place, don’t I sweetheart?”

Tears dribble from your eyes beyond your comprehension. Falling down a dark hole without escape, you nod slowly, whimpering through your choked sobs. “Daddy.”

“I know, baby.” Soft lips drag down your cheek, firmly pressing a kiss at the corner of your mouth.

Everything about him feels so dizzying, knowing your head would roll off of your neck if he wasn’t choking your throat right now. His fingers trail up to your chin, turning your face to look at Jungwoo’s large eyes reflected in the windshield. “You’re better than this.”

“I’m not, I’m bad. I need to be fixed.. corrected.” You manage to whine, innocently blinking over your shoulder without a care in the world for the man you manipulated into this situation. They’ve all been pawns in your game, your step-father included. All to get what your heart and body desires. “Punish me daddy!”

Johnny’s soft eyes darken in an instant, coated by a shadowed film covering his iris. His nostrils flare, laying all of his large size on top of you. “Why are you asking this of me?”

“B-because, I love you.” You sob, bouncing your lower half against him. “I love you daddy, so much!”

The last bit of fight he had left exits his lips with his next breath. Slowly dropping his eyes shut as he stays still and lets the sensation of your ass grinding back on his cock wash over him. He tried to deny, tried to ignore, berated himself for allowing such indecent thoughts about his step-daughter to enter his mind.

Ever since your behavior became more concerning, he had to set up hidden cameras around the house. He was worried, that’s all. Worried of what harm you could cause yourself when left alone with your sadness and thoughts. He wanted to tell you, he did, but it was only for your own good. And for the most part he felt at ease while he patrolled and left you alone at home. You mostly slept, laid around, occasionally made yourself food. He saw when you’d sneak around.. steal his clothing, but that never bothered him.

Today though, what he saw today, only an hour ago as he fast forwarded through the footage documented today. He saw you on his bed, the one he shared with your mother once. Tracing your fingers along his work uniform, picking up his gun to pose with in the mirror. All normal, until it wasn’t.

“What did you do with my gun?” He asks slowly, shoving your hair away to one side. “Tell me.”

Color drains from your face, wide eyes peering up at him. “I—I—“

“Why did you do it?” He continues to question, having to swallow to calm his dry throat. “What’s gotten into you sweetie? What do I need to do to fix this? To fix you?”

What has gotten into you? Depression, malignant fantasies, emptiness. Really, that's it, emptiness. Every part of you feels so empty, so hollow, unalive. The only time a shred of life shows itself is when you see Johnny, when you’re with him, when he smiles at you, when he touches you, when he wraps you up in his large arms. “Because I love you.”

One solo tear trails down his cheek, slowly nodding as he pulls you up and wraps around your waist from behind. Soft full lips press to your cheek, the lips you crave and lose your mind over. Safety, that’s what he is. Your step-father, he’s the refuge you pray for, the comfort you can’t find anywhere no matter how hard you search. “If you love me, you’ll stop doing this.” His voice cracks, shaking as he finds your watery eyes.

“And if you love me,” your lip trembles, teeth chattering. “You’ll love me.”

If there is a God, he’ll never forgive him.

Strong working hands, dangerous hands that have handled firearms for years, that have locked up wrong doers, that have nurtured and fought hard for you; strong hands squeeze your waist. Slowly turning you around to face him. “I want to take you home.”

“No daddy, I want you, here.”

Here at Agora Hills, the exact place you have been luring him to night after night. “Here?” He questions almost pathetically, rubbing down your bare stomach to the frilly material of your panties. His eyes slide over to Jungwoo’s near haunted face, jaw hung open so wide he can see all the way to the back of his throat where his tonsils hang. Surely he’ll tell everyone in the neighborhood about what he’s witnessed here tonight. May as well make it a good story.

“Here.” Johnny repeats more assured, nodding to the hood of your neighbor’s ridiculous car. “Lift your legs up sweetie.”

The backseat of his patrol vehicle had definitely been the layout for your fantasy, skittish as you allow him to mount you onto Jungwoo’s car and the hood gives under your weight. Denting your knees in place, echoing a pitiful cry from inside of the car. Johnny’s hold around your stomach tightens, resting your back to his chest so that your legs can bend open in front of the windshield. “You let this idiot touch you baby?”

“Y-yes..” you admit, flushing from head to toe as you meet your neighbor’s miserable expression. He really really had pissed off your daddy..

“You let him touch you here?” Longer fingers drag across the top of your lace panties. Biting down on his lip with his chin perched over your shoulder. He slaps your trembling inner thighs, reaching lower to drag a thumb down the seam of your panties stretched against labia folds. “Let anyone touch you, don’t you?”

“N-no daddy..”

“Don’t lie to me.” Johnny’s usual soft spoken voice is long gone. Falling into a deeper and raspier speech as he skirts around your panties. Tapping the tip of his nose against your cheek. “No more, you let anyone touch you again and daddy will make you regret it.”

Fuck. Shivers explode down your spine, frantically nodding as he suddenly rips your soaked underwear to one side. Exposing your blood engorged cunt to the cool night air, pornographically spread open on the hood of some classic automobile. “N-never!”

“That’s right.” He hisses, eyebrows furrowed, leaning into your back more until you fold in and can’t lift your neck. Forced into a nearly pretzeled position with no choice but to watch as his large hand lowers past your navel and he splits open your pussy folds. “Shaved yourself all pretty, I know that’s not for him.”

Erupting with a fresh batch of tears, you struggle to shake your head. Rambling a spatter of ‘nonono’ because nothing has ever been for anyone else. Only for your step-father, only for him.

It’s beyond painful how desperate you sound, losing your sight through wads of tears that won’t stop filling up your eyes. “What should I do baby? Your panties are so wet.” He tsks, tugging the worn down material bunched up in his fist even harder. Ripping a sound of lace shredding through the night air. “Want me to touch your little pussy? To use your cunt in front of your random boy toy?”

“Daddy, p-please!” He’s driving you crazy. Slamming your socked feet against the car hood, you let out the most feral of moans. Jerking your hips up with a shout

“Want me to touch you here?” Johnny murmurs, sounding on the brink of insanity himself. Tiptoeing two fingers down your cunt to your opening, spewing slick out onto his digits. “To shove them deep inside of you?”

A moment of cold silence rinses down on you, craning your neck back against his chest to look at him. Nuzzling and nodding against his throat, you whimper feebly, placing a scolding kiss on his Adam’s apple. “Please daddy, p-please fuck me.”

Shit, that’s not what Johnny expected to ever hear. The beating of his heart goes wild, throbbing its way up to his brain, filling his ears full of static noise. He’s panting heavily, winding down to your entrance in search of what can only be wonderland. Fully hunched over you, he watches with intent as the pads of his digits push against the tightness of your hole. Hissing between his teeth at the resistance he’s met with.

There’s no way you’re still this tight if you really let the neighbor boy fuck you. How tiny can his dick be? Johnny grimaces, pushing in past the snap of skin that sucks around his fingers. Propelling spikes of adrenaline and hunger through him that scream to go harder, faster, deeper. The bend in your knees goes limp, kicking out against the car windshield, garnering another shattered cry from inside of the vehicle.

Entranced by how you squeeze around two of his digits, your step-father stabs them deeper inside. Thrusting them in harder only to hear your cunts wet echoes splatter around his hand onto the hood of Jungwoo’s car.

“Daddy!” Exhaling something between a moan and a cry, you pant heavily under his upper body. Convulsing and shaking into him, forced to take the two long fingers jabbing in and out of you at a rapid speed. He flicks at your swollen clit, in disbelief at the way your pussy hasn’t stopped spasming since he started fucking past your holes squeeze.

“You're so close, princess.” He huffs raggedly. Snapping his fingers in and out at a blinding pace. Pumping more wetness to stream out onto the hood of the car. The teasing flicks at your clit turn furious. Pinching your stuff bud between his thumb and pointer finger, tweak your raging nerves into a frenzy. Shots of electricity burn through your limbs, curling your toes in with a scream out to the night sky.

It’s hot and blinding, punching your chest with cold all at once. The force of your orgasm pushes against his fingers, halting Johnny’s motions as a powerful rush of clear liquid rips out around his digits and your pussy walls grip around him. The thought of his cock filling you up next has him pulling out. Slapping his hand down to rub at your clit furiously, concentrated and focused as he watches in awe. The squirting stream shoots out harder, raining down on the car’s windshield.

“Holy shit.” Jungwoo cries out from inside, struggling to breathe.

“Knew you could do it.” Your step-father praises, kissing the side of your sweaty forehead. “My good girl.”

Johnny does the unthinkable, swiping your drenched cunt before lifting his hand up, gaze on yours with his tongue lapping at his fingers. “Tastes so good.”

Just like heaven.

“D-daddy?” You sniffle, pouting your lips out toward him with the largest saddest eyes he’s ever seen. Bloodshot, cheeks stained with tears the same exact way they were when your mother died.

A kiss, a kiss is what you beg for. A kiss from your daddy.

And Johnny, how could he ever deny you? How can he stop himself from scooping you up, wrapping your trembling thighs around his waist. Cupping your ass as he leans in and gives you one of the softest lightest kisses, leaving one on the tip of your cold nose after. He presses for more, a firmer kiss, longer contact. Rubbing your ass between his greedy hands, asking for entrance to your sinful mouth with his tongue.

Denying you has never been an option.

“D-daddy,” you cry between hot kisses. Overwhelmed by his dominant mouth, how easily he takes control. The suck around your tongue and lips ready to burst from how swollen they are. “Please, please fuck me. Want you to be my first, please.”

“First?” Stepping back, he looks over your naive expression. Your flushed cheeks, your beating chest, your hands trembling against your thighs. “First.”

You’re a virgin, an eighteen year old virgin. His step-daughter, pure, untouched, barely legal. Begging him to be your first.

If anyone should be your first, it’s him. He practically raised you, has the best interest in mind for you. He loves you.

“Show me.” Licking at his lips, he swallows hard. Throat clamoring for some saliva. “Show me your virgin pussy.”

And you do, you listen so well. Almost too perfectly as you place your feet flat to the car and grab your knees to hold them open. Your pretty lace panties ruined, blood-filled cunt pulsating at him. It’s a sight he hasn’t seen in years, virgin pussy. Hairless in all the right places, hole barely visible because of how fucking tight you are.

It’s wrong, he’s so big it’s going to hurt you so much. “Daddy.” But the way you whine for him. How you proudly sit there pumping your cunt at him. You need to be punished.

He wants to take you home, fuck you right on the same bed he took your mother on for years. Bend you into every position, make you scream all night until the neighbors make a fuss and turn their lights on at 3am. Nosey and curious, whispering about a murder taking place.

Wrapping you back up in his arms, he spares Jungwoo’s sobbing face one last look. Nodding with a smirk before turning around to his vehicle. At least he’d taken the SUV for patrol tonight, unbeknownst to himself of what would soon unravel.

“You deserve the world baby.” He whispers, unlatching the back door open to climb inside with you. It’s spacious enough, thankfully, because despite how badly he needs to get you home, he needs to know how you feel even more. Fighting with each step to his cop car with his swollen sack, he’s proud of himself for not turning you over and taking you on that asshole’s car. “And daddy’s going to give it to you.”

Writhing against his back seat, you lay flat and unhook your bra, throwing it to the ground. “You’re so so pure.” He almost growls, unbuckling the large metal buckle of his belt. Blazed eyes dragging down your body, your pinched waist, round hips, panties barely holding on for life. “So beautiful and good to me.” He nods, shaking his shoulders free from his holster. Working to unbutton his long sleeved uniform shirt. “So good for me, my angel.”

Johnny means every word. You’ve never done wrong in his eyes, always his sweet little girl. Even now you’re giving him everything, all of you. An angel sent to take care of him through his misery.

Getting down to his constricting work slacks, he situates himself between your thighs. Having to hunched in due to the shirt ceiling height. The touch of your flesh beneath his fingertips heats up like a furnace. “Your pussy, your virgin cunt..”

Eyes drunk on nothing but need, lust, desire, love stare up at him. Continuously rolling tears down your glowing cheeks. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, never having had sex.. you just want him.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He asks brazenly, surprising himself. Caressing the insides of your knees and he peers down at your cunt that seems to have a heartbeat of its own. “Who’s is it, baby girl?”

“Your!” You cough, falling into a mewl. Moaning lewdly as he nods above you, broad and large. Slinking his hands to his zipper to slowly glide down.

“Yeah,” Johnny sucks in a deep breath, nodding slowly. Shoving his pants and briefs down past the middle of his thighs. “After I fuck this pussy, no one elses but mine.”

“Daddy’s pussy.” You moan, legs spread out for him. Grabbing your panties to tug at roughly. “Only yours.”

A glob of wet arousal pulses from your hole as you say it, and it’s enough to drop his body forward. To circle the base of his cock with one of his sweaty hands, eyes on yours. The way your cunt drips, he can only hope you’ll feel nothing but pleasure. Slapping the thick girth of his meat against your wet pussy, he hisses. Having to hold himself up with one arm bracketed by your head so that he can look down at his length covering your center. “This might hurt, baby.”

“P-please.” Make it hurt. That’s all that Johnny can hear. Your pleads for punishment, for pain, for something to heal and fill up your empty soul.

The head of his cock feels the true warmth of your cunt, your tight suffocating grip, wrapping around him like a perfect cock sleeve.

And it’s right, it’s so right. Rolling his eyes shut, groaning as he feeds you more of his size despite your cries. The scrabbling small hands scratching his chest, your clinking teeth and sniffles. He fits the entirety of his cock inside of your pussy. Mesmerized by how fucking wet you are, wettest cunt he’s ever fucked.

Sinking into the hilt, he meets obstruction. Mouth hung open panting heavily on top of you. He can’t take his eyes off of it, how his cock disappears inside of you, how connected you both are right now. Creeping an angry groan out of him, curling up his spine as his balls smack against your rim.

“My angel, my baby.” He pants harshly. Using his flexed abdomen muscles to hold himself up and slide both of his hands beneath your neck. “Look at us, baby.”

Johnny’s strong hands hold your head up off of the backseat, folding you in as they wrap around your neck and squeeze. The crushing weight on your throat chokes your breath, wide eyed as you look down at what he wants you to see. Fucking into you with brutal determination when he finds your gaze where he wants it to be. His glossy wet cock, pummeling in and out of you as if you’re a pro at this.

Your cunts just too good, sucking around him like nothing ever has. He draws in and out, plunging in madly. Pulling out to the tip only to slam back in and make you take, shape you to take his cock.

Creamy wetness splurges out around his size with each stroke. Spilling out beneath your ass, filling the vehicle with a splattering sound of your arousal. The smack of his balls on your ass, hips hitting the backs of your thighs. Coughed and gurgled moans, scratching at his forearms the more he tightens around your neck. “Daddy!”

Fuckfuckfuck, you’re driving him insane. Bonkers, off the walls, throwing his head back releasing the loudest pleasured moans. Each one making your pussy squeeze and grip around him tighter. He moans louder and louder, reminding you with each that you’re the best, so good and amazing for him.

“Da-daddy—is—is—“ you splutter, jerked up and down under the force of his hips jackhammering into you.

Johnny’s wild eyes meet yours, loosening on your throat to let you breathe easily. His pace never falters, pushing his cock through your kissing cunt. Through your delicious maddening heat, through the milking grip trying to make him cum. “Baby wants it even deeper, huh?”

“I-is—“ you mumble incoherently, squeezing your eyes to blink away tears. Fluttering open to find his. “M-my pussy—better t-than mommy’s?”

FUCK.

Why would you say that?! Why would you ask him that?! Johnny can’t stop his hips from stuttering, slamming in and stilling. Filling your cunt with a hot load of cum, sticky and wet. Too much for your tiny little hole to handle. He’s never lost himself like this, never emptied his balls so fast. Never came too quickly.

“What’re you doing to me.” He whimpers, falling flat and heavy against your chest. Ragged breaths punch out of his lungs, practically vibrating on top of you. His cock twitching inside of your squeezing hole, not softening up for anything.

“Say that again.” He sighs, reaching to cup your face. Nose shoved against yours. “Say that again for me baby.”

The sad desperate tone he asks you in has your pussy squeezing around the wet gush of sperm and slick filling you up along with his fat cock. Losing your strength to hold your eyes open, you slowly fade. Heavy lidded and croaking. “I-is my pussy b-better than mommy’s?”

Johnny’s bulging biceps cage your head. Pressing a searing hot kiss on your saliva drenched lips. “So much better, my fucking angel. My fucking sweet angel with he best pussy, can’t get enough of you. Will never be enough, need all of you.”

Licking at the drool covering your chin and neck, he begins to grind his hips in circles. Stretching your cock to take him again and again. For as long as he can keep it up for you, he’ll keep fucking you. Fuck all the pain away with more punishment.

“Daddy’s gonna mold your tight little pussy.” He grunts, sitting up to haul your legs up. Laying your limp limbs against your chest with no struggle. “So flexible.”

Of course you are, a young eighteen year old girl, good for nothing but taking cock. “Want you only taking my cock from now on, no one else’s.”

“Y-yes daddy.” You whisper, throat burning from screaming and moaning. Face scrunched up trying to hold back your urge to cum again, too swollen between your thighs to squeeze any harder. “Only yours.”

“Such a good pussy. So fucking soft and wet.” Johnny thrusts in slowly a few times. Catching his breath before slamming down, circling his thick arms around your shoulders to completely fold you in. Suffocated by his masculine body wash scent filling your senses, his deep grunts, the deep set lines taking over his forehead with every exerted movement.

Furious thrusts only build and build to a violent speed, aided by the endless stream of slick lubricating his cock. He can’t stop fucking you, can’t make himself stop.

“Daddy, daddy!” It’s all you can say, repeat and scream. Too lost in your pleasure, the numbness coursing through you, your blacked out mind that needed this. Needed to feel whole to feel empty again, to relax your brain and scorch endless amounts of endorphins through your system.

“Come on princess, let me feel how good that pussy cums.” He growls, chasing your orgasm for you. Grunting and fucking through your pulsing heat, hot slick pussy walls gripping him so tight.

“A-ahh!” The drag of his length pauses, fluttering his eyes open. Letting out a cracked howl as you cum. Tossing his head back to fully take in how clench around him akin to a chokehold. Wailing and whimpering beneath him as streams of hot clear liquid shoot onto his pelvis. Too limp and out of it to break free from his position even through your writhing. Your step-father suffers through it, the best suffering he’s ever experienced. Biting down on his lip with a deep breath as he curses and fucks through the last seconds of your climax.

He tries to stave off his release, tries to stop himself from finishing too fast again, but you’re just too good. Never letting his dick breathe with the way you milk his cock.

“Fuck shit, f—fuck. G-gonna cum.” He says between clenched teeth. Groaning from the back of his throat, digging his fingers into your thighs hard enough to bruise. “Take all of my cum baby, it’s all for you.”

All of it for you, from now on he won’t go a day without spilling himself empty inside of your pussy. Fucking his seed deep inside, painting your cervix without any concern of you getting pregnant. You belong to him now.

“Fuck that’s it.” He grits, groaning loudly with shaking thighs barely holding him up. Cock sheathed deep inside of you painting your cervix in strings of white hot cum. “Take all of it, my good girl.”

His good girl, you hum quietly. Using your last bit of energy to clamp your cunt around him and snatch every last bit of cum for your greedy hole.

The night feels endless in the backseat of his patrol car atop of Agora Hills. Just the two of you, lost in each other’s bodies, fucking your pain and anger away.

“Let’s get you home.” He finally finds the willpower to say after filling you up two more times. Finding a blanket in the trunk to wrap around you. “It’s too late, way past your curfew.”

The comment brings a lazy smile to both of your faces. Curling into his side for comfort.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, princess.” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead to ease whatever anxious thoughts attempt to enter now that the haze of lust and sex has cooled down.

“I love you.”

Johnny frowns, turning to cuddle against your side. His forehead presses against your shoulder, placing a light kiss on your collarbone. “Daddy loves you more.”

—————————————-

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luvth0t · 1 year ago

Text

RIDICULOUS ━ L.N

in which lando can longer cope with you laughing at the mere idea of being with him, and you realise it wouldn’t be that ridiculous. but it may be all too late.

warnings; nswf, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, lando in the friend zone, implied that reader is a year or two older than lando, little bit of angst, choking, soft dom!lando, silly reader, overstimulation i guess, lotta praise, oral, fluff at the end if you squint

lando was infatuated the moment he met you.

it took a while to realise how strongly he felt, considering he met you at arguably the most chaotic time of his life.

his first year in f1, carlos his teammate; meaning you were around every race from the start, to this day.

he wanted his own photographer after a mere few interactions with you, but quickly realised he only cared about photos because you were the one occasionally taking them.

carlos signing for ferrari meant lando was losing two people; his teammate and you. his friend.

he’d jokingly asked you to jump ship, work for him instead. if only you knew how serious he was being.

you never looked at lando the way he looked at you. he was like a friends annoying little brother, one you couldn’t help but pity and adore.

he made you laugh, was fun to be around. a change from the personality’s you would come across in the paddock. it was no shock to you that carlos built a bond with him ━ as did you.

since joining ferarri you didn’t see the brit as much as you’d like, not that carlos’ new teammate was a let down. charles was lovely. you didn’t feel invasive taking shots of the pair of them.

but you still kept it touch. occasional group outings, dinners and celebrations. you weren’t oblivious to the way he always made time for you. but you were naive to the deeper meanings.

his flirtations were nothing of concern, to you it was a running joke. amongst many of you; you didn’t think lando actually wanted anything from you beyond platonic.

he could handle rejection. but being laughed at? he could only cope for so long.

“he begged me to invite you tonight,” carlos’ words were teasing, directed towards you yet his eyes rested on lando; out for dinner with a few other team members from mclaren carlos hadn’t caught up with in a while.

melbourne was one of your favourite races for this very reason, having to get here so early meant you had time to catch up with those in the paddock away from the craziness.

lando’s eyes lifted from the menu he was reading; scoffing immediately, already prepared to jump on the defence ━ not giving you a chance to speak.

“i was making sure you hadn’t forgotten anyone, y/n included.” lando corrected, flashing you a grin in the midst of his explanation, one you mirrored.

“i’d like to think my presence would be a given,” you huffed back at carlos; and lando felt a fool for allowing his heart to jump at the prospect of you also defending him.

“of course it is. just saying, lando was set on making sure you’d be here.” carlos smirked; eyes now on his own menu, pretending as if he wasn’t attempting to stir the pot.

“he misses you,” an engineer spoke up from besides lando, nudging the british driver who could only roll his eyes; not at all unfamiliar with being targeted with such banter. he copped it a lot worse when you were all on the same team.

“mhm, misses me. not carlos.” you grinned; practically bragged ━ nudging carlos this time; you’d grown a talent it seemed for redirecting the topic of conversation. trying too at least, and the way lando smirked made it clear he appreciated your efforts.

he’d nodded as well, confirming your words. in no way ashamed to admit he missed you more than the spaniard, while it didn’t seem like there was any truth to his words with the playful smile on his face; the assumption couldn’t be any closer to the truth.

“if you miss her so much you should go out for dinner just the pair of you,” carlos challenged quickly; earning an eye roll from yourself and a small giggle at the idea ━ oh the shit show that would be, you and lando out for dinner. you could read the headlines now.

lando caught the way you laughed, you however missed the way his eyes snapped to you in the moment. the way his smile faltered, merely from watching you completely dismiss and laugh at the idea of spending just a single dinner with him alone. what’s so funny about that? could it really be the most absurd idea? no matter how many times you reacted in such a way it always stung.

he recovered almost instantly however, like he always does.

“wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, know you don’t like to be left out.” lando mused; earning another laugh from you ━ one that was music to his ears, hearing you laugh at his jokes was always enough to have him holding his chin a little higher.

“oh i’d be more than happy to see you finally get out of the friend zone.” carlos regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, catching the way lando’s smile fell and jaw tensed ━ quickly realising his teasing may have gone too far.

your lack of reaction killed lando more than carlos’ words did, the way you barely battered an eyelash ━ completely unbothered while he sat here trying to not pop a blood vessel. he wanted to defend the relationship or friendship you had, but there wasn’t much to defend.

because carlos was right, he was painfully stuck in the friend zone.

“how much longer till you realise these jokes got old two years ago?” you sounded awfully unbothered as your gaze remained on your menu, only looking up when another engineer spoke up.

“it’s just a joke?” he’d asked in full seriousness, eyes flickering between yourself and lando. he wasn’t on carlos’ side of the garage, always working on lando’s side. he barely interacted with you; only heard things through the grapevine.

“obviously.” you spoke as if it was…obvious, and the laugh you let out would’ve softened the blow of your words had lando not already heard this a thousand times.

“ah, ah, ah. don’t forget about silverstone.” carlos simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut; bringing up the night where everyone was convinced you and lando spent the night together.

which would be valid if you actually had, but you hadn’t. you went home together purely because you both were tired. he dropped you at your hotel room, didn’t even come inside. somehow no one believed either of you when you squashed their suspicions that ‘lando’s wish had finally come true.’

“don’t be ridiculous.” you scoffed, shaking your head ever so slightly. lando’s silence would’ve been deafening if others weren’t jumping in to speak, and maybe you would’ve noticed his lack of input if you spared him a glance.

he was managing to muster a fake smile, it was almost painful. any amusement he was clinging too had vanished, wanting the conversation to be over with.

“it’s not ridiculous.” carlos huffed; and lando almost wanted to nod in agreement. thank him even. because it wasn’t ridiculous, he didn’t think so at least. it made sense to him. you made so much sense to him.

“it is.” the nail in the coffin, lando couldn’t keep smiling anymore. you sounded oh so certain, all the while the smile hadn’t left your face. “come on now,” you added in exaggeration at carlos’ unconvinced face.

lando wasn’t sure what you said next, he didn’t want to hear it. he couldn’t figure out why hearing all of this was suddenly unbearable, but before he knew it he was not so subtlety excusing himself ━ something about getting another drink, before standing up and bee lining to the bar.

the abrupt departure didn’t halt anyone else’s movements, conversations continuing and carlos joining in a debate with his cousin and his old mclaren press officer; while your attention got stuck on lando’s full glass ahead of you.

he didn’t need another drink.

you watched as he weaved through the crowds, the way he failed to smile at anyone he passed by; the tension clear in his jaw; it almost appeared as if he was scowling.

it was funny, because your first thought was if you offended him. but you couldn’t figure out what possibly could have; it was laughable how unaware you were of his feelings.

“i’ll be back,” you excused yourself, standing up and following in lando’s directions without any hesitance; a slight frown on your face as you dodged people left and right to get to the bar.

you weren’t sure why the prospect of upsetting him upset you so much, but the sudden urgency to check on him was too powerful to ignore.

“rude to not offer a girl a drink you know?��

lando’s eyes only shifted towards you for a mere couple of seconds when you made your presence known. he could count on one hand the amount of times he wished to be alone when you were near, but this was one of them.

he was drained, unable to fake any more smiles or shrug off any more comments. blame it on the jet lag.

“apologises,” he hummed; not offering you another glance which had your suspicions confirmed, your furrowed brow showing concern not that he could see. his blue eyes were focused ahead on the busy bartender.

“you good?” you internally cringed as the words left your lips, unable to figure out a way to address the sudden mood without sounding overbearing or overstepping.

you watched as his shoulders tensed; as his eyes strategically continued to avoid you, only making the pit in your stomach feel deeper, as if it could swallow you whole.

“peachy.” his sarcasm was clear, and while it would usually be a relief it wasn’t laced with the usual humour. it was blunt, dismissive ━ and if you had any doubts left about being the reason for him running off, they were now squashed.

“did i say something━ did carlos say something?” the questions stumbled out of your lips in concern, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “i’ve tried to tell him to lay off with the jokes, it’s stupid i know.” you began to ramble.

lando finally let his gaze land on you, and the sight of your sympathetic eyes and worried frown had him feeling guilty. which was ridiculous, but suddenly he felt an urge to reassure you he was fine. that you hadn’t said anything.

but you had.

“it’s not the jokes,” lando cut you off; hands running over his head, even letting out a laugh at how pathetic he sounded. he was going to continue, explain it further; but he stopped himself.

he couldn’t. it was a can of worms that must remain shut.

you stood in silence for a moment, under the impression he’d keep speaking. but he didn’t. leaving you with no explanation; just further confusion.

“no?” you hummed; eyebrows raising. “because i totally get if it is. it’s ridiculous how they keep going on━” you were rambling again, trying to make the situation better. attempting to ensure he felt heard, that he could speak to you about what was bothering him.

so oblivious to the fact you were just digging yourself a deeper hole.

there was that word again; ridiculous.

“is it? is it really that ridiculous?” lando couldn’t stop the question from flying out of his mouth; only now turning to properly face you; in time to catch the dumbfounded look on your face from his question.

it took a few moments to try understand what he meant, coming up short as you stared at him clueless, lips parting to try come up with something to say but falling short.

“is what?” you mumbled, suddenly all confidence was gone. almost scared to hear the answer; purely because you recognised the doubt and regret illustrating his face.

but lando had nothing else to lose, you’ve rejected him in front of everyone else without realising. what’s once more?

“us. dinner us two, having gone home together in silverstone. this?” lando sighed out like it was obvious, hands waving between the pair of you.

because to him it was so obvious. the amount of times he’s almost asked you to join him for a meal, just the pair of you.

maybe if he had you’d see what he saw.

silverstone meant so much to him, having expected nothing from you but he thought about the taxi ride back to the hotel more than he’d like to admit. he could’ve sworn you’d been flirting with him that night.

he even thought it would’ve been the start of something.

optimism was a curse however, because stupidly lando thought perhaps after finally expressing his feelings that maybe you’d reveal your hidden reciprocation. that maybe you were scared like him.

but instead all he could see was shock. and confusion. and fuck, was that sympathy?

“what?” it was a weak response, but all you could muster. you were attempting to find any other explanation for his words, to figure out what he could be implying.

lando had to laugh, shaking his head as he faced the bar again; hands running over his face as you quickly realised he was being fully serious.

“it’s not━ we’ve never━ i mean it would be weird.” word vomit, you didn’t know what you were saying; usually so careful with your words you knew the moment lando looked at you in shock and offence you’d be haunted by that very sentence. “not weird━ but,” you attempted to fix your mistake, eyes screwing shut.

another laugh from him beat you to it however.

“ridiculous. i got it,” lando spoke through a breath, sounding incredibly defeated which had your stomach dropping.

you struggled to find words to assure him, still attempting to process what he’d just told you. you hadn’t ever looked at him in that way. he was always just… lando.

“lando…” you trailed off with a frown, only now starting to realise the position you both were now in.

the awkward tension was growing quickly and you’d never despised something so quickly. you refused to let this be the bitter end to your friendship.

“it’s fine. just drop it.” lando huffed, standing up straight; eyes finding yours once more. he didn’t want you to feel bad, he’d accepted long ago that his chances of you feeling the same were slim.

you can’t apologise for how you feel.

“no we should talk about it,” you disagreed, so much concern and care in your eyes it almost made him sick. he didn’t need that from you. and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how he’d spent years pining over you.

he’d kept it secret for a reason, to avoid this.

“i’ll pass,” lando hummed; the half smile he mustered up did little to comfort you as he licked his bottom lip and glanced around the room. “i’m gonna head up,” he cleared his throat.

you’d gone to express your dismay with such thing, but he was walking off before you could get another word out; left alone at the bar dumbfounded and suddenly in need of a drink.

it would be quite sad to admit that one revelation could change your whole weekend. but it did.

you’ve never had trouble sleeping, in fact the jet lag usually knocked you out. yet you’d spent the best of your time in melbourne thinking through every word lando said. looking back on every damn interaction the two of you shared.

you felt like an idiot. because suddenly it made a lot of sense, what you failed to realise in the moment fell together piece by piece.

an insight into his intentions for the effort he’d put into the friendship over the last couple years was eye opening, and while you were unsure as to how you hadn’t assumed such thing sooner, you found yourself asking the question how it made you feel.

you’d be lying if you didn’t have a few moments of giddiness as you recounted certain times. how he drove you home from pre-season testing one time because you didn’t feel well. how he always got you flowers for your birthday.

suddenly your mind was consumed with the thought of lando every waking second. from the moment you entered the paddock on thursday you were looking for him. which didn’t make sense considering you had plans to avoid him.

you didn’t want to make things worse than they were. but for some reason he was the only thing on your mind, to the point it was becoming an issue as you tried to go about your work.

not once in your career had you been pulled up on anything, so when carlos questioned if you were okay friday afternoon ━ claiming you had been slacking, you knew you were fucked.

there’s no way you felt the same. surely not.

you had to stand by what you said. it’d be weird?

he was lando. annoying lando who couldn’t grow a speck of facial hair and flinched at the sight of fish.

except saturday, when you finally laid eyes on the driver again, it was cruel slap in the face of reality when you realised that was almost 5 years ago. you’d both changed. lando had changed.

you almost spiralled when you found yourself admiring the driver. had his mclaren top always been so tight around his biceps? had his skin always been so sun kissed? not to mention the way his curls sat atop his head.

you suddenly felt insane. you’d never looked at him in that light, never thought what if. but his confession had you a mess of thoughts, one’s you had to run away from. causing you to spend the rest of the weekend hidden away in ferrari’s hospitality.

you could only hide for so long, carlos had won ━ which was enough to get your mind off of the british driver for a whole 4 minutes until they were up on the podium together.

work was your priority however, but you couldn’t help but notice just how nicely lando photographs. you only ever focused on carlos, considering he paid your wage. but as you took shots and shots of the pair interacting before and after the podium from afar you couldn’t help but note how lando was practically glowing.

your head was a mess, and as you now stood in a random club in melbourne, you had no idea what your next move was.

you couldn’t exactly deny going out to celebrate when carlos had won. so your next wish was that lando simply wouldn’t be in attendance.

but he was, and your eyes hadn’t left him all night.

still having not spoken for days, you couldn’t shake the urge to congratulate him. yet for some reason you were scared, you didn’t trust yourself. fearing you’d say something you’d regret. which was a foreign feeling. lando was usually the easiest person for you to talk too.

however you could only stand in the corner with a drink as your only company for so long. a sudden wave of confidence washing over you, or more so desperation to stop being so childish, causing you to down your drink before setting off towards the british driver.

it was when you were only a few metres from him that you realised you should probably have a game plan, and if he hadn’t locked eyes with you there was a high chance you would’ve backed out. turned around and walked away.

instead you were left to improvise.

“good job today,” you smiled widely when you got into ear shot; unable to shake the tightness in your chest, feeling suddenly out of breath as if you had sprinted over here.

lando appeared much more relaxed than he had last time you spoke. which made sense. he’d put it on the podium, why wouldn’t he be in a good mood?

“thank you,” the driver grinned, unable to be stumped when he was still running high off adrenaline. plus, he figured you would pretend the other evening never happened. which he would happily take.

your script ended there however. you had no idea what to say. or where to look, since when was eye contact with lando hard?

“impressive from carlos,” lando managed to fill the silence, and you could feel the relief at the fact he’d saved you from creating an awkward silence.

“yeah, yeah i know. very proud of him. i’ll never complain about pain again.” you spoke through a dry laugh; one he mirrored, your lips pursing as you attempted to think of something, anything, to fix the mess you found you guys in.

to apologise for your rudeness? to explain your mindset? to just talk. you needed to talk to him, for your own sanity.

“look i just wanted━” you finally built the courage up to speak, but were interrupted as a blonde woman slid next to lando’s side, handing him a drink while doing so.

it shouldn’t have shut you up so quickly, but it did ━ eyebrows raising as you attempted to figure out how to respond to the image in front of you. one you’d never seen before actually.

“line was long,” the girl hummed in explanation, and you only just caught lando’s sorry eyes as his attention turned to the girl next to him.

he would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the lifeline that was the blonde he’d just met 20 minutes ago. he did not need to hear your reasonings as to why you should just remain friends, not tonight.

“i’ll um, i’ll talk to you later.” there was no way you’d try get your words out again, not when you barely spoke up the first time. yet for some reason, you’d hoped lando had insisted you could speak now.

instead left to watch as he nodded and offered you a small smile; practically sending you off on your way.

embarrassment was the one word to describe how you felt as you made your way to the nearest booth, attempting to hide away and let the darkness swallow you whole.

apart of you felt you should be grateful, maybe being interrupted was a saving grace. god knows what you were about to say, you definitely didn’t. but right now you found yourself in the same position as you were 5 minutes ago.

it felt selfish. lando had practically admitted to having feelings for you, that’s what you gathered at least, and you’d been unaware for years.

you’d been slightly uncertain in your feelings for five days and you felt as if you were losing your mind. you had no right for an explanation really, but you needed something. attempting to decipher everything to do with the main man of mclaren was giving you a headache.

although your vision became a bit clearer as you sat and watched him interact with the girl who’d placed the drink in his hands.

it suddenly made sense why you hadn’t seen him like this before. his attention was always on you, his efforts and time focused towards you if you were in arms reach.

which you couldn’t help but feel grateful for as you sat and watched your new personal hell.

you didn’t want to label it as jealousy. because that would be ridiculous, but it was beginning to be hard to watch the way lando whispered in her ear and grinned widely as he earned a laugh or two from the girl.

were you mad at the sight or mad at your own reaction? you weren’t sure. it felt wrong, to feel so strongly when only a few days ago you’d laughed in his face about the prospect of being with him.

what was it they said about you only want what you can’t have?

“it should be illegal for you to be sitting here moping after i’ve won.” carlos’ voice snapped you from your thoughts, being met with the driver who slid into the booth opposite you, a sheepish smile forming on your features.

“i’m not moping.” you huffed, leaning back in your seat ━ attempting to look and feel relaxed, allow your tense shoulders to loosen, glancing back to lando once more before your attention was on the driver ahead of you.

“you have been all week.” carlos disagreed, eyebrow raising as you frowned; not having a reply because he was right. and suddenly you felt horrible.

“i’m sorry━ that’s the last thing you need with the couple weeks you’ve had,” you sighed, head falling into your hands. it was as if you suddenly couldn’t do anything right.

you missed the way carlos smiled, having looked at the direct reason of your problems moments prior.

“don’t apologise.” carlos dismissed, assuring you it was fine; and when you peaked up through your hands, the smile he was flashing you was enough to put your mind at ease. “i’m assuming lando said something.”

there it was. lando. again. back in your head. as if you ever got him out.

you only sighed, head falling back this time as you now stared at the ceiling. of course carlos knew.

“you knew?” you huffed out, it clear you already knew the answer.

“everyone does.” carlos chuckled, and you wish you too could take amusement from the situation. how comforting, this whole time you’ve either appeared as an idiot or the biggest bitch.

“why wouldn’t you tell me?” you practically whined, looking back at the driver once more; watching as he put his hands up in defence and innocence.

“i thought you knew.” carlos claimed, sounding so honest you couldn’t question him ━ nor blame him. you shouldn’t have needed someone to spell it out for you. plus, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if you did know.

because it wasn’t like you were handling the current situation very well.

you had no answer, just left him to watch as you sat wallowing in self pity. you should’ve never chased him to the bar.

“he’ll be fine. look at him, moving on already,” carlos attempt to comfort you was more like a punch to the stomach ━ because you had to stop yourself from glaring at him. had to stop yourself from spitting out how that wasn’t what you wanted.

you didn’t want that at all, and that thought was suffocating. you were in no place to come to terms with your feelings, but right now they seemed to be demanding to make themselves known.

“i need air.” you huffed as you stood up, thankful that you had taken notice of the smokers exit not too far from you.

the crisp air felt like a soothing blanket, hitting your skin the moment you got outside. the balcony was empty and finally you felt as if you could breathe; allowing your arms to rest against the railing as the music became muffled and the sound of melbourne’s night life filled your ears.

it felt stupid, staring across the city skyline as if it would answer your questions. maybe the stars could align and write out a solution for you, tell you what to do.

but with every passing second you didn’t find any clarity or idea on what to do, how to feel. you shouldn’t want him. you haven’t wanted him before. it isn’t fair to suddenly feel so drawn to him after unknowingly rejecting him for so long.

but it was the reality. you’d been exposed to the idea of lando wanting you; and with every passing moment it became clear to you it wasn’t weird. it sounded fucking incredible.

the music suddenly filled your ears again, moments later becoming muffled as you became aware someone had joined you outside. it wasn’t till they spoke that you tensed up.

“it’s cold out here,” his voice was instantly recognisable, you didn’t need to look at him to know it was him.

“too hot in there.” you hummed simply in reply, feeling his presence next to you as he joined you in observing the city skyline; although you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

falling into a comfortable silence was the last thing you expected, both too scared to speak up and face the inevitable. if you could stay like this forever you would. it was the first few moments of peace you’d known all week.

“we can pretend the other night never happened. i don’t want things to be weird.” lando spoke, words so soft as if you’d break. as if he needed to be careful with you.

his whole demeanour had you frowning, turning to face him. he shouldn’t be fixing this mess, nor prioritising your feelings over his. not when both of you had neglected his for so long.

you parted your lips to disagree, to tell him that was the last thing you wanted. you wanted to talk about it. it’s all you needed to do.

but quickly you realised that was contradicting your initial thoughts.

“if that’s what you want,” you spoke through a breath; unable to understand how you still couldn’t find the right thing to say when this very conversation has been the only thing on your mind all week.

it was lando’s turn to stay quiet, you watched as he thought through what to say; practically seeing his mind tick.

“i just want to know why it’s so ridiculous to you.” lando practically blurted the question out, as if he was almost afraid he wouldn’t say it ever if he didn’t now. it’d been weighing on his mind, it killed him that he had no explanation as to why you were so against the idea of him in anyway that branched further than platonic.

and while you wanted to give him an answer, you didn’t have one.

“i don’t know.” you answered truthfully. “i never looked at you that way lando i…” you trailed off, eyes getting lost in his when you realised just how close he was. your admiration these past couple days from afar was one thing; but up close was a whole new ball park. “you were like this little kid, i don’t know,” you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

“yeah five years ago,” lando’s response was quick and blunt; even with the chuckle that escaped under his breath, it didn’t lessen the intensity in his eyes that were now pouring into yours. it was as if he’d been wanting to say such thing for years. he was challenging you.

you’d gulped at his words, because he was right and you’d only come to terms with such thing these past few days.

“yeah.” you mumbled in agreement, suddenly feeling small under his gaze; it was all so new. you’d been in this position with lando countless of times, why did you suddenly feel as if every nerve inside of you was being set alight? why did you feel as if you couldn’t dare look away from his eyes.

you could spot the moment lando realised the change in your behaviour, the way his eyes flickered across your face; his lips parting ever so slightly as he took a breath.

he recognised the look on your face, purely because it’s how he would always look at you.

“it fucking sucked you know? having to sit there while you laugh at the idea of spending the night with me. even just going on a date with me.” lando hummed, voice barely above the whisper because with the minimal distance he didn’t need to speak any louder. although if he spoke any quieter you’d be worried you wouldn’t hear him over the sound of your rapid heartbeat.

you didn’t know what to say, head tilting aside ever so slightly as you watched him take a step closer; dangerously close now yet for some reason you found yourself leaning further towards his frame ━ and the moment you let your eyes flicker to his lips you knew you were done for.

“m’ sorry,” you mumbled; eyes pouring into his once more as if that would ensure he knew you meant it, but he didn’t want nor need an apology. but god would he love an opportunity to change your mind.

it was as if you could act without thinking again the moment his hand cupped your cheek, lips pressed onto yours in a rush that had your hand moving to find a grip in his shirt.

you didn’t know how to describe it, but suddenly everything made sense as your lips moved together in perfect sync.

the moment almost came crumbling down however when lando pulled away only a few moments later, heavy breaths as his hand remained on your cheek; eyes looking down at you as if you were gods greatest gift to earth.

but as much as this felt like heaven, lando knew he couldn’t risk this just being a one time thing. he refused to get a taste of you just to be starved again.

“if you don’t━” lando barely got his words out, you had him read; could see the doubt beginning to creep in. as much as he hated being vulnerable it was almost self perseveration.

thankfully however you didn’t give him much time to worry, shaking your head before tugging him closer to you ━ reconnecting your lips with such certainty lando had no room to fear or doubt you.

it was all he needed, the lid was off and he finally could act on his wants ━ hands moving to grip your waist as he trapped you between himself and the railing, lips moving against yours without a care in the world that anyone could walk out and see.

it was as if the kiss was the answer to all your questions, suddenly it all made sense. lando made sense; you felt stupid, how had you denied yourself of such thing for so long?

your hands were tangled in his hair, his were clutching your sides for dear life ━ large hands pawing at your waist then your hips, having to stop himself from getting too greedy and travelling any further.

so caught up in him you quickly realised you needed to breathe, pulling away momentarily; yet you had no time to recover as lando only busied himself with peppering kisses on your jaw.

naturally you tilted your head back, a sigh of content escaping you as you invited him to explore more of you. and lando was not going to ignore such thing, soft kisses now pressed to the skin of your neck.

suddenly you were incredibly aware of the closeness, the way his body was pressed against yours; the cold railing behind you doing little to cool your hot skin; his knee pressing between your thighs having your eyes fluttering shut.

heaven was the only way to describe it.

but really you were on the smokers balcony of a crowded melbourne club, a reality that hit the pair of you as the door swung open and laughter and chatter was suddenly heard.

your eyes flickered to the group who appeared, lando regrettably lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. the group was unbothered by your presence, you weren’t sure the pair of you were even noticed.

lando’s grip had tightened on your waist ever so slightly, as if you could slip away from him like the moment had.

“we should get out of here,” you spoke through heavy breaths as your eyes met his, watching as his lit up with both relief and eagerness. he only nodded, taking a step backwards as his hands ran over his now crinkled shirt.

the pair of you may had gotten yourselves together in those few seconds, but as you worked your way through the crowded club towards the exit, it was quite clear what had occurred.

the elevator ride only caused swollen lips and messy hair, and you struggled to keep your hands off of him once in the back of a taxi ━ kissing him was addictive, that’s the only thing you could think of right now.

the silence wasn’t awkward as you stumbled into his hotel room; only the sounds of quiet laughter as he struggled to find his room key. small curses escaping his mouth as he failed to move in the urgency he was currently feeling.

it was messy the way you both discarded your shoes and belongings, a few words and mumbles exchanged before he was tugging you into his chest again ━ lips once more reconnected.

the space allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck this time, body practically melting into his hold. you wanted to apologise again, explain your thoughts over the last few days, how your change of heart had occurred.

you weren’t even sure it was a change of heart; more so just now thinking about new possibilities.

but lando seemed to be the thing that could put those thoughts at bay, finally your mind was silent ━ all senses consumed with the man in front of you.

you weren’t sure which wall he’d backed you against but you didn’t care; welcoming the familiar feeling of his lips on your neck once more ━ taking the few seconds of your brain not being foggy to tug on the end of his shirt before trying to push it up his body.

he got the memo, ridding himself of his shirt and you could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of his toned torso.

“what do you want?” lando’s question was matched with an intensity that almost had you squirming, his knee pushing between your thighs once more as you peered up at him.

you were suddenly lost for words, unsure how to vocalise what you wanted.

him. just him. anything he had to offer.

the feeling of his finger running up the side of your leg gave you plenty of ideas; but you were too flustered to articulate such thing.

the sight of you dumbfounded had him letting out a breathy chuckle, eyebrows raising in expectance ━ yet somehow it just had you squeezing your legs together.

“anything.” you mumbled, cheeks a tint of pink as he only smirked at your answer; you hadn’t realised how desperate you sounded. you weren’t sure you’ve ever sounded so needy.

“gotta be more specific pretty,” his grin told you he was revelling in your flustered state. how could he not? his mind was running wild with plans to have you a needy mess all for him.

the term of endearment was new, a boundary that had never been crossed in your friendship; yet it sounded so natural. what wasn’t natural was the way your heart seemed to flutter at the compliment.

“want me to touch you?” lando was almost mocking you as his hand moved to push your hair back out of your face, cupping the side of your head while doing so to ensure your eyes stayed trained on him ━ and the mere act had you falling further into submission.

it was pathetic, you were somehow able to identify such thing ━ standing here with parted lips and wide eyes, having nodded at his words almost too eagerly. you needed to control yourself, at least for now; he’d barely touched you yet.

“what do you want?” your words were no where near as confident as his, but you weren’t complaining; the confidence suited him, it only had you wanting him more.

you watched as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, attempting to keep your mind off his finger that was dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

“want to ruin you so you’ll only ever think of me if another man touches you.” lando was honest with his answer, you hadn’t expected such words to escape his mouth. such bluntness, what sounded like a promise had your knees feeling weak ━ the idea sounding perfect to you.

but he wasn’t finished.

“want you to cum on my fingers.” he added quietly, your legs spreading ever so slightly as his hand finally ventured under your skirt. “then my tongue,” he practically chimed; head ducking down to your neck now, his hot breath fanning your skin.

thinking was only getting harder, his words were turning your mind into a puddle, much like the state of your undergarments.

“then my cock.” he concluded before paying extra attention to the skin on your neck, kissing intently as you let out a shaky breath.

attempting to process such words from him was difficult, but you were quick to figure out it sounded incredible to you.

“hm?” his hum was a taunt, head lifting to look at you once more, watching as you nodded quickly.

“please,” you practically whimpered, god you’d get on your knees and beg. lando almost groaned from the word leaving your lips alone, the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes had a grin forming on his face, one you mirrored for a brief moment.

the man couldn’t believe his eyes, a sight he’d dream of too many times was in front of him in the flesh and he wanted nothing more but to make sure you too would never forget these moments.

his lips returning to yours almost had you failing to notice the way his hand slipped under your skirt, finding your soaked panties with ease. he groaned into your mouth as he realised how wet you were, your only reply a slight tug on his curls.

light and teasing touches were only tolerable for so long, you could deal with his fingers dancing around your clothed folds while his lips stayed on yours ━ but when he pulled away your breaths became irregular, clinging to every ounce of patience you had.

you were about to whine when his hand pushed your panties to the side, slipping a digit inside of you without warning was enough to have you choking out a moan ━ hand flying to grip his bicep to ensure your legs wouldn’t give out on you.

lando was watching you as if you were gods gift to the earth, thumb settling on your clit naturally that within seconds of him getting to work your eyes were fluttering shut ━ head falling back against the wall.

“you’re soaked baby,” his words were barely audible; too in awe of you, but you still managed to catch them as you nodded ever so slightly.

“for you,” you breathed out ━ not that it needed clarifying, but the reassurance had the driver smirking proudly, even rewarding you as suddenly a second finger slipped inside of you.

for him. lando would never had thought that would ever be possible. if he wasn’t so focused on getting you off he’d be replaying those words in his mind again, and again.

suddenly it was becoming hard to keep quiet, strings of moans and whimpers escaping you in succession, causing lando’s pants to feel incredibly tight. but that was the last thing on his mind, holding you against the wall with the only goal of having you come undone in his grasp.

his name sounded heavenly as you moaned it, so much so lando thought no one else should ever speak it again ━ nothing would compare to that.

“look at me.” lando’s demand was so calm you almost missed it, eyes still fluttered shut as your thighs squeezed around his hand. despite hearing him you couldn’t act, control of your body slipping away ever so quickly with the way his thumb was circling your sensitive bud.

lando’s breathy laugh wasn’t enough to capture your attention either, his touch was all your mind could focus on. so it was when his free large hand trailed up your body to wrap around your neck that your eyes fluttered open.

his eyes were inquisitive, clearly attempting to gage a reaction to the action which had your lips parting despite having no pressure applied. however it was the way you clenched around his fingers that told him enough.

the slight squeeze of your neck was enough to draw a moan out of you, and lando could only hum in content. you were fucking perfect.

it was quickly becoming overwhelming, pleasure suddenly building so quickly ━ eyes pouring into his as you struggled to form words.

“close,” was all you managed out; lando’s nod was in sync with his curled fingers ━ your nails digging into his skin as he brushed the spot that had your legs almost giving out.

you were holding onto him for dear life, moans growing louder and whinier as your vision started to become starry despite having your eyes open.

“let go baby,” his words were enough to push you over the edge, releasing onto his fingers as you practically panted his name like it was a prayer.

lando had concluded a long time ago that he couldn’t fall for you more than he already had; but as he watched you come undone, he realised he’d been wrong. your beauty truly knew no ends ━ and he was only now more eager to watch your face contort in pleasure again and again.

admiration filled your own eyes as they opened once more to peer up at him, flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile spreading on your face as you attempted to catch your breath.

“you’re incredible,” lando couldn’t stop the praise from escaping him, and watching the way your smile grew had him feeling no regret either; no shame like he usually would when a compliment perhaps too sentimental slipped passed his guard.

however this time it was reciprocated, you could see the meaning behind it ━ not dismissing it as a friendly comment, instead it had your already flushed cheeks reddening further.

“you are.” you spoke like it was obvious, even letting out a small giggle ━ sounding somewhat out of breath but such thing was granted. your arms moved to wrap around his neck again, both to ensure he stayed close and because your only strength was in your arms.

your legs already felt like jelly.

he’d read the situation with ease, because suddenly his hands were hooked under your thighs ━ halting you up as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.

your skirt was bunched at your hips, ruined panties almost shameful. your hands spread out against his toned back, unable to help yourself from feeling as much of his flexed muscles as possible.

messy kisses were exchanged as he moved you through the hotel room, lips lazily moving against each other before your back was hitting his plush mattress.

the sight above you rendered you speechless, no shame in your eyes raking over his frame as he stood at the foot of the bed ━ you quickly felt overdressed.

your own hands found the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, no bra meaning your upper body was exposed to the brit.

you could visibly see him gulp, his eyes dancing over your half naked frame as he took a few deep breaths; tongue flicking over his bottom lip. the man even shook his head in disbelief, unable to help himself when you invitingly leant back on your elbows.

he was on top of you within moments, situating between your spread legs as his head found the exposed skin of your chest, open mouth kisses pressed to your neck, slowly making their way to your breasts.

“you’re fucking beautiful.” he’d practically grumbled, your fingers finding his curls once more you could only whimper as his teeth tugged on your skin momentarily.

“want to make you feel good,” you whispered, unable to ignore his hard on pressing into your hip ━ the feeling had you squirming, keen to feel more of him.

he’d shushed you however, not being derailed as his kisses moved to your stomach now, your head hitting the pillow as you tried to control your breathing ━ left to stare up at the ceiling momentarily.

“i feel amazing,” lando spoke matter of factly, his hands spreading over your thighs as he parted them to his liking ━ your eyes flickering down, not expecting to meet his blue ones.

he looked like he was ready to devour you, it made your core practically ache ━ offered no relief as your legs could only squeeze against his hold.

he was quick in removing your skirt, and your panties ━ having you bare for him before he was hooking your legs over his shoulders. but his urgency seemed to still there, kisses pressed to your inner thighs instead of your glistening cunt.

“lando,” you’d whined, using all your strength to ensure you could keep your eyes on him, a pretty sight that was rendering you impatient. “please,” the plea left you in desperation.

you could still feel his breath on your thighs, not where you needed him, and when you heard him chuckle lowly your eyes had to press shut to keep your composure.

“oh baby,” he dragged out; cooing so sweetly your eyes narrowed when they met his again. “needy little thing,” he commented; quirking an eyebrow your way and you couldn’t argue, only pout.

he wasn’t wrong, much to your surprise. you’d never found yourself in such position, needing and craving someone so badly. depending on someone else for pleasure was practically foreign.

“not gonna make you beg,” lando ended your torture, if you could even call it that, mouth connecting with your cunt and your jaw dropped as his tongue quickly found your clit.

you were already sensitive, back arching immediately as you moaned out softly ━ hands flying to find his curls again.

pure ecstasy was the only way to describe the feeling, his tongue working so perfectly that you were fighting to not press your thighs against his head ━ body moving with every action, his hand moving to press down on your hips and keep you in place.

your eyes caught his own for a mere few moments, seeing him look up at you however had your own eyes rolling back; too sensitive to stay cool with the onslaught of pleasure.

he was everywhere, consuming every one of your senses ━ tugging on his curls your only outlet as you moaned and shook.

you weren’t ever sure you’d be able to cum from head alone, but you were about to find out ━ pathetically close already, stomach tightening having barely recovered from your first orgasm.

you forced yourself to gaze down at him again, wanting to see his head between your thighs ━ watch the way his arms flexed as he held you in place with ease.

his tongue was flicking between your folds, then paying attention to your clit; never missing a beat, it flood over you suddenly.

you could no longer hear the sounds you were making as you came again, back arching off the bed once more ━ seeing stars, lando sure to catch the sight as you came undone for him again.

it was a blur the next few moments, not present as lando shifted your legs off of his shoulders and back onto his knees, but once you realised the sight in front of you it didn’t take long for you to push yourself up the bed so you were sitting up.

“you good?” lando’s voice was soft now, ensuring you were okay; not oblivious to your tired body. you nodded however, a lazy smile spreading on your lips in reassurance, hooded eyes taking him all in. you just wanted to feel all of him.

“perfect,” you breathed, leaning forward to connect your lips without another word. it was greedy, a few moments of no contact and you were drawn to him again. you just wanted more and more, and the way lando’s hands flied to your waist showed it was truly reciprocated.

you pushed him slightly to sit down, switching positions so he was resting against the headboard now ━ it didn’t take much force, he was letting you guide him, hands delicately roaming your fatigued frame.

climbing into his lap your hands made quick work of his pants, unzipping them and moving all material out of the way to finally free his hardened cock.

lando moaned into your mouth the moment your hand wrapped around his length, pumping a few times was the relief he’d been ignoring since you entered the hotel room.

he struggled to kiss back for a mere moment, causing your eyes to flutter open, lips curving upwards at the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.

fuck you could get used to that image.

“come on baby,” lando rasped out as his hands found a home on your hips ━ guiding them upwards ever so slightly. “fuck yourself on my cock yeah?” there was a slight smugness in his tone; the type that had you falling into submission once more, despite him vocalising your plans.

your arms moved to hold onto his shoulders, enough to help steady you as you guided your hips on top of his, lowering yourself down onto his cock.

the pair of you gasped in sync, your forehead resting against his as you took him all in at once, jaw going slack from the stretch.

you stilled, needing time to adjust to his size ━ and lando had no complaints, the feeling of you wrapped around him having him content.

“you feel fucking incredible,” the driver rasped, lips brushing against yours as he spoke; and you could only whimper at first, a few deep breaths escaping you.

“so big,” you mumbled; having to swallow intently before mustering the energy to begin moving ━ eyes pouring into his as you began to ride him.

the closeness and intimacy would usually scare you; heck, it would normally terrify him. yet somehow it felt right, as if this wasn’t the first time between the pair of you.

your nails dug into his skin once more as you shifted up and down, lando’s hands only on your skin to ensure he had a hold on you ━ letting you set the pace as he watched, jaw tense and eyes adoring.

“fuck lando,” you whined when he’d bottom out once more, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your toes were curling ━ the sound of his own grunts and moans only adding to the pleasure.

“doing so good for me gorgeous,” his praise only encouraged you, words so delicate. you sped up as much as you could, not too fast but with more urgency than before; as much as your sore body would allow.

it wasn’t long before you started to tire, your moans grew whinier but you didn’t need to say anything ━ a choked moan escaping your throat when his hips suddenly thrusted up to meet your movements.

you hadn’t thought you could feel more full but you were wrong, and lando didn’t relent as he started fucking up into you.

you were like a doll in his hands, as he started to practically move you up and down his cock; his own hips continuing to thrust up you couldn’t keep up, eyes screwing shut as your mouth fell agape.

“fuck lando fuck,” you were practically chanting; a string of curses and his name; it all felt too good. fucking perfect, you couldn’t comprehend any of it.

“take it baby.” he grunted, and you nodded so quickly as if you’d ever disappoint him, fingers reaching to his back and nails dragging across the skin ━ his thrusts harsh, not slow but not too quick that you wouldn’t have time to feel every inch of him.

your head was thrown back, exposing your bare chest further to him ━ which lando made the most of for the time being, lips ducking down and attaching to one of your nipples for a few moments.

but as your sounds got louder he needed to be able to see your face clearly, hand moving up your back and tangling in your hair to force you to look at him.

“open your eyes princess,” he practically demanded, and at this point you’d do anything he said without question; eyes fluttering open to look at him.

his stamina was impressive, not surprising, still bouncing you on his cock as if it was nothing ━ but the way his breaths got shaky and his hooded eyes revealed he was feeling the pleasure like you were.

“who’s making you feel this good?” lando’s question escaped him without much thought; he just needed to hear you say it. wanted to revel in the fact he had you in such a state. your praise and reassurance held such a high value to him.

“you, lando, you,” you whined out in response ━ and you felt his hand move back to your hip, needing to use your own strength now to keep your head upright. “feels so good,” you told him ━ squeezing him as you did so.

he’d groaned at the feeling, almost having cum on the spot; thankfully he didn’t, because he needed to see you fall apart one more time.

“want to cum again yeah? that you want?” his mouth seemed to know no ends, the taunting only making your stomach grow tighter as you nodded to the best of your ability.

his breaths were heavy now, hands travelling to your ass as he used that as his grip of your body instead.

“wanna hear you say it,” lando grumbled ━ head ducking into the exposed skin of your neck, more kisses pressed onto your skin and the thought of marks being there from the amount of attention he’d paid to it was the last thing on either of your minds.

you were struggling now, too fucked out to process his words as quickly as he’d like ━ so much so a harsher thrust upwards had you aware you needed to answer him, yet you already forgot what he said.

“too fucked out to form words baby?” lando teased now that he knew he had your attention; and he chuckled once more when you shook your head quickly. “want to hear you say it.” he repeated, eyes piercing yours.

“wanna’ cum again,” your words were laced with desperation, needing to take a breath between sentences as his cock spread you open. “please let me cum,”

the british driver’s hum of satisfaction turned into a moan of pleasure at your plea, sounding and looking so pretty for him, it was clear you’d done enough as you felt his hand snake down between your bodies to your clit.

your vision went white practically immediately, almost yelping from how sensitive you were; thrown over the edge with little warm as you came on his dick ━ practically screaming his name as you did so.

lando came inside you merely a few seconds later, jaw slack from the sight of you and the way your walls squeezed him once more ━ only now was his thrusts sloppy as you both rode out your highs.

you were practically limp in his lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder as his own head rested against the headboard; heavy and irregular breaths filling the silence.

his hand moved to your head, fingers running through the strands of your hair comfortingly, the action causing you to hum in appreciation.

both of you were content with the silence, purely because neither of you knew exactly what to say. what to do. this was unexpected, to say the least.

you sat up straight after a couple minutes however, eyes meeting his ones; noticing the lack of intensity and confidence they held prior.

he was studying you as well, attempting to not spiral into a ‘what now.’

this meant a lot to him, he wouldn’t put that on you ━ that wouldn’t be fair. but you already had a good idea.

“i was wrong.” you finally managed to say what had been on the tip of your tongue, offering a small smile as his eyebrows raised in question.

he didn’t fully understand.

“about this. us. not making sense. being ridiculous.” you clarified, and the realisation washed over his features. you could feel him tense up slightly beneath you ━ shaking his head quickly.

“we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he assured in certainty. he didn’t want you to feel obligated to protect his feelings because you slept together.

which you appreciated, it was cute. he was thoughtful ━ which shouldn’t be a surprise.

“i’m not promising anything,” you clarified, dismissing him this time; you didn’t feel obligated at all. you weren’t saying you’d be his girlfriend and expected flowers when you woke up, but you needed him to know you no longer stood by what you said. you were also relieved to be able to articulate your thoughts. “but i was wrong.” you hummed.

a lazy smile spread on his features at that, acting like a catalyst for your own. a mumble of an okay and laughter was exchanged, before his lips were on yours again; a gentle kiss this time.

one you could certainly get used too.

━━

a/n: 615 days later and i’ve finally finished another fic. hope y’all r still there 😀😀

incredibly sorry for my inactivity and special shout out to everyone who has continued to support me despite the radio silence??? i love u

anyways i don’t love this but the fact i had the motivation to see it through was enough. hoping it’ll ease me back into writing and getting back up to standard, so apologises that it’s a little rusty 🫶🏼🫶🏼

what hasn’t changed is that it’s currently unedited and the ending is rushed hehe

as always feedback is always very much appreciated love u all mwahhh xoxo

#f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #x reader #f1 #lando norris angst #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #f1 angst #f1 one shot #lando norris #lando norris imagine

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daylighted · 7 months ago

Text

LIVEWIRE — jj maybank x reader.

livewire (n) — an energetic or unpredictable person; a force of nature. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthat boy is a livewire; he'll ruin you, or die trying.

. . . or, jj's crashout — featuring you.

includes, SEXUAL CONTENT! MDNI. kinda pwp. crashout!jj. best friend!fem!reader. forced proximity. high stakes. dirty talk. jj is vocal. p in v. unprotected sex ( do not do this they r just so ridiculous & horny ). ( semi ) public. he has absolutely no pullout game but he's forgiven for it </3

NOTES. if the door logic doesn't make any sense realistically ... that's not my business. i'm not writing for realism i'm writing for the JJ GIRLS who want 2 fuck CRASHOUT JJ. also my apology for the quote in the tagline ik its too soon still but i joke 2 cope.

Red and blue littered the autumnal afternoon sky, sirens overshadowing the lyrical chirps of the birds, the scattered winds blowing red and orange leaves down the Kildare streets.

JJ Maybank is a fucking force to be reckoned with. In his wake, town hall’s alarms reared their deafening screeches, the aforementioned chilly winds blowing in handfuls of leaves to scatter the podiums and the foldout chairs. There’s a lone chair on its side in the middle of the well-kept grassy front courtyard. There’s glass burrowing itself in the dirt, reflecting the golden sun’s light at every which way when you turn your head.

The other pogues are screaming at him to go, to run, and he’s shocked for a moment. Stood like a deer in headlights at the actions that he took. Who knew how much one boy was capable? All of the destruction that two hands could elicit?

Oh, and what an empowering thought it is, too: realizing what you are capable of doing when you are pushed to the brink.

There’s that look in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and takes off into the wood, disappearing like a speck in the small bit of forestry separating town hall from the rest of the downtown area.

You know what that look means. This is merely the first in his rampage. Fire burns blue in the thin line of his irises, everything else overtaken by adrenaline and fucking rage.

“Someone has to—” Kie starts, and you realize that you’ve been staring straight ahead at the trees he vanished into, eyes locked on the exact path he took. “Someone has to go, go make sure he’s okay—”

Sarah’s eyes lock on yours. John B grimaces for a second, like he’s considering it, before he looks at you, too. Kie’s words, albeit vague, had never sounded so directed before. Pope—

Pope is getting tossed against the hood of a cop car, and suddenly, the pogues aren’t looking at you anymore. Their gazes break and shatter away from you like the shards of the window surrounding your feet.

Your heart is racing. You. Chase him down. And what did they expect you to do? To tell him that this wasn’t him, and to stop while he’s ahead, and to hold his hand and guide him back to safety away from the cops’ sirens and cars that had already broken away from the crowd to hunt for him?

No. This was JJ, and he wouldn’t stop while he was ahead, and he was going to take the cops on his tail like a challenge to keep going until he cracked — or they did.

You were the only one that ever understood him, really. That was why their eyes immediately shifted to you when the topic came up that someone had to find him, because even while they wanted to help, they would only drive him further away. Not you. Never you.

You’re turning on your heel and sprinting before anyone can realize what you’re doing. Not the screaming kooks, demanding lawyers and justice to the unlistening winds. Not the pogues, banging on the remaining cop cars to free him, free Pope, stop this fucking madness—

It’s like a thin line is painted on the ground between you and JJ. An invisible rope, loose but growing more taut the closer you follow on his tail.

You follow it. Follow that red string into the trees, letting it tug you along until you break out of the shadowy wood and onto main street.

A car alarm blares. Glass shards on the trunk of it, surrounding the asphalt around it. You slow to a stop to avoid catching any of those sharp, loose pieces in your shoes. Even now that the imaginary red line has faded, you can see traces of where he went in the path of destruction he made.

A shop’s window busted a few feet away from the car. A street pole sparking and buzzing lowly, electricity humming through the air like a siren’s song, tempting anyone it came across to touch it. Touch the livewire.

Just a few feet away, there he is. JJ has an outdoor seating chair in his two hands, and he’s seconds from tossing it through the glass window of the cafe it was in front of.

“JJ!” You shout, your voice faint beneath the sound of the car alarm, the sparking of the electrical fire, the hum of electricity buzzing all around you.

His head swivels to look back at you, and he looks fucking vicious. He looks like no matter what you say, he’s not going to stop. Not here. The electricity coming from the dented-in box on the street pole is feeding directly into his veins.

“Not supposed t’be here,” he calls back, and now that fury is directed at you. As if he ever could have stopped you from following the breadcrumbs he only ever left for you. “Can’t fuckin’ stop me.”

You crunch glass beneath your feet as you run toward him. It’s too late to do anything about the cafe window; its pieces spill onto the glossy wood floor, some splayed onto the sidewalk.

“Who said I’d try and stop you?” You ask him once you’re close enough. His hand runs through his mussed blonde hair, tugging the strands straight up.

His eyes flit to you, eyebrows raised behind the loose strands falling back down over them. “M’not letting you get into this shit, too,” he says just as sternly. “It’s my fuckin’ life I’m ruining.”

“Why?” you ask him, and it is a genuine question, even though you don’t think he’s going to answer. So you start to spit out your own theories. “Because of your dad? Because of what Luke did?”

His eyes drop to the ground, squinting like he’s looking for something through the shards surrounding his feet. The bat. The end of it sticks out in front of your shoes.

You bend down to grab it, holding the hitting end out toward him. His eyes are so dark when they glance at it, and then back up to you. His eyes were always oceanic, but now they seemed to be drowned out by the stormy black clouds that were his pupils.

JJ’s eyes linger on yours. He’s never really made an effort to read you before, more of a take it on the chin sort of guy when it came to how people were, and what they meant to him. But he studied you now, and it was almost unnerving, trying to guess what exactly he saw reflected back to him.

His fingers close around the hitting end of the bat in a tight grip, using it to pull you closer to him. He’s holding it out to the side, just so that it can’t go taut and rigid between the two of you, allowing you to be tugged closer than you would have been able to be.

His breaths come in furious pants, audible once you were close to him. He was a livewire. He was sparking, burning everything he touched, trying to take it all to the ground.

Destruction was always so pretty when it was at his hands. He did everything with purpose, whether it was for the good of who he cared about, or for his own grievances.

And this sort of destruction, the kind you saw his eyes fall into once you were close enough to share breaths? It was golden and fiery, and full of promise that would break the thin line between your friendship and something else.

You knew it in the same way that you knew how to follow that red, invisible line to him. Red because it was a bad idea, a waving red flag, telling you to stop, stop, stop. But it connected the both of you, regardless of its color; so how were you expected to?

“Feelin’ hungry?” JJ asks, voice low and almost sinful with the way that it rasped.

You don’t mean to balk, but you do. It wasn’t a question you expected him to ask, but the double meaning in it, the innuendo laced words, had you stifling on your own words. “For what?”

The bat slips from his grip, and it falls to hang loosely at your side. “We broke it, we buy it,” he says with a nod toward the shattered gap in the cafe’s window. “Or… not buy it.” His eyebrows bounce when he looks at you, and he leans in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Did you think I was talkin’ about something else?”

Your face flushes. Then, you drop the bat to shove at his chest with both hands. “Shut up.”

“What, you feelin’ all hot and bothered, sweetheart?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tryna get some fugitive dick before it’s tossed in the slammer?”

Your face is hot, the trail of heat from your reddened cheeks traveling like a river stream to your lower stomach. “Shut up, JJ,” you seethe, though it has none of the fire you wish it did. You didn’t know why; you had so much of it running through your blood then that it should have made you sound more fiery than you did.

“Uh huh,” JJ cackles, his hand lifting to the back of your shoulder, pushing you toward the broken window. Once you’re a few steps ahead of him, his hand claps on your ass. “Andele, andele! Cops on the horizon.”

It takes every bit of your willpower to not whirl around and smack him back. You don’t, because unfortunately for you, the sting only adds to your stomach becoming molten liquid, and for the other, more pressing matter, of the cops’ lights glowing red and blue at the very end of the street.

You duck into the hole in the glass, feet crunching down on pieces of glass and debris. He follows immediately after, though when he slips into the building, it’s more stumbling than anything graceful.

“Head t’the back,” he huffs, nodding toward the push-to-open door behind the front counter. “M’not gettin’ fucking caught before I fuck up that goddamn realtor’s house.”

Arguing with him is a bit useless. JJ’s never been one to listen to anyone when his mind is set on something. You knew this from the moment that you took off in his direction to find him. Still, you almost open your mouth to make the effort to stop him, so at least you could say you did try.

He cuts in front of you, stepping around the chair he tossed through the window, hopping over the countertop. He stops when he’s leaned against the door, holding it propped for you.

“I’d say ladies first, but someone’s takin’ their sweet ass time,” he prods, nodding in gesture to the kitchen.

You scoff, shaking your head, as you circle around the counter, shoving your shoulder into him when you duck underneath his arm. “Some of us aren’t so akin with vandalism.”

“Some of us,” JJ mocks, his fingers digging into your ribcage as he falls into step behind you, “need t’lighten the hell up.”

“I’m sorry, but are the cops not literally outside? End of the road?” It’s useless to humor him and his pestering, but it makes your heart beat a little bit faster, so who are you to make it easier for him and just go along with his ploys?

He tsks. “Semantics.” His head spins around as he takes in the room surrounding them; typical bakery style kitchen, mixers and cutting boards and ovens, sinks lined up on the back wall. There’s tall fridges and deep freezes on one side of the wall, and parallel to it was— “Aha, there we go.”

JJ cuts in front of you again, doing a little hop and a skip as he bumps his hip into this new door, tugging the handle down as he opens it. “Pantry, or whatever,” he scoffs, his face twisting up, “doesn’t matter to me what the hell it is. Gonna have to camp out in here, you and I.”

Of course you were. You’d signed up for this, getting involved in this round of his criminalistic habits, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have the right to be annoyed. Weren’t you lot chased by the police enough as is?

Still, you step into the pantry, the smell of chocolate chips and something else sugary hitting your nostrils the moment you’re inside. Boxes of ingredients line the shelves, including the ziploc bag of chocolate chips.

JJ’s snatching it up before you can even process it, diving his hand into it and popping the handful between his plush lips. “Told you. Break it, we bought it.”

Your eyes roll. Vandalism and theft. Probably a hefty sentence, nothing that either of you could afford with Poguelandia on the brink of destruction and your debts already piled high.

He zips the bag back up and tosses it back on the shelf. “Walkin’ around like you got a stick up your ass, sweetheart,” JJ muses, his fingers closing around your elbow. “Told y’to relax, didn’t I?”

“No,” you say slowly in response. “You told me to lighten the hell up.”

One side of his mouth quirks in a half smile, dimple gracing his cheek in the process. “Semantics,” he repeats, and he uses the grip he has on your arm to tug you back into his chest. “I could help you lighten the hell up.”

“I sincerely doubt it, JJ,” you huff, your expression as unimpressed as one’s could be. “You’re the entire reason—”

His mouth crashes against yours before you can finish that sentence. His mouth is as soft as it looks, the inner shell of his lips chapped. He tastes like weed, like the taste of it is so familiar in his mouth that it embedded itself into his taste.

You almost don’t kiss back. It’s one of those things that feels like a bad idea because it is. That pointless rule about no kissing on other pogues went out the window the moment Kie and Pope got their hands on each other, but it still felt wrong, to break one of the rules that cemented the glue that held this group together.

You kiss him back anyways. The moment that you start to respond to his advances, his tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, pushing his way in. He starts walking the both of you backwards, deeper into the pantry, until your back hits the wall.

JJ’s hands drop to your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly to wrap your legs around his waist. Your fingers curl into his shirt, tugging him further in until his chest presses against yours.

His hands let go of you, the press of his body against yours on the wall and your legs tight around his waist keep you held up. His fingers close around the hem of your dress’s skirt, tugging it up.

Your eyes pop open, falling down to your exposed panties pressed against his denim jeans. When you glance back up at him, lips still lightly pressed to his, they’re blue again, and glimmery.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to stop,” he murmurs against your lips, stealing another kiss in the process. “Just… tryna get your mind off of—”

“The manhunt?” You finish for him, and he laughs breathlessly against your mouth.

“Mm, m’not doing a great job at distracting you, then,” he teases, one of his hands letting go of your dress, the other fisting the fabric as he holds it up. The free hand’s fingers slide down, down, down, until their tips are pressed on the edge of your panties. So close he could probably feel the slickness leaking through the fabric.

“This all for me, baby?” he asks with that infuriating amusement curled around his words. “Or is it the danger of all this, too? Like bein’ an outlaw with little ol’ me?”

You aren’t even going to dignify him with an answer. Your bottom lip wedges itself between your teeth, your hands curling into fists against the fabric of his shirt.

His middle finger starts to rub slow, lazy circles over your swollen clit through the damp fabric of your panties, his lips parted like he’s going to say something stupid about the whine that falls from your mouth—

When the sirens get so loud that it echoes around the small pantry. They don’t dissipate, either, which means…

“The door,” you choke out, nodding behind JJ to the pantry door. He’d shut it behind the both of you, but there’s a lock by the top of it, one of those chain link ones. “The lock—” You try to clarify, your brain a bit muddled.

JJ’s head turns to glance behind him, and you watch his eyes dance up to the chain, too. He lets out a heavy sigh. “Such a damn worrier.”

“I’m not—”

Always useless arguing with him. He cuts you off by gripping at your thighs again with his lithe fingers, lifting you off of the wall and tugging you into his chest.

You grab fistfuls of his shirt so you don’t fall backwards at the sudden movement, your lips curled into a scowl.

He doesn’t seem to notice. He holds you in his arms as he walks to the door, pressing your back against this one so he can remove one hand from your leg, and lifts it to chain the lock.

“Better?” he teases, and you’re about to scowl at him again when you watch the smile drop from his lips.

Just as suddenly as he’d yanked you from the wall, he’s dropping to the ground, your body falling right along with him, knees crashing into the hardwood floors as you land into straddling him. Your mouth opens to gasp, or swear, or gasp and swear, when his fingers close over your lips.

The cops. You hear them, then, the muffled voices and muddled words. Through the crack beneath the door behind JJ’s planted ass, you see their flashlights, too.

His eyes meet yours, and he nods once, his expression grim. You blink, and his eyes are again filled with that glimmering mischief that never, in his life, has meant something good.

And it was truly delinquent of him this time, as his hands drop to the button and fly of his jeans. Your mouth opens and closes in protest, because there’s no way he’s thinking that you two are going to fuck on some cafe’s pantry’s floor with cops right there—

“Oh, get that look offa your face,” he whispers, nosing your chin up and stealing a kiss when you’ve met his eyes again. “As long as you be quiet, what’s the big deal?”

“You have nothing but awful ideas in that head of yours,” you snap in a low whisper, through your gritted teeth. “I’m not having sex with you right now—”

JJ’s eyebrows raise. His eyes fall down to your slickened thighs, to the panties beneath the dress pooling his waist that he knows are wet with your arousal.

“Fuck you.” It’s so pathetic to say, such a weak argument, but it’s the only thing that you can even think right now. Your heart is pounding in your chest with adrenaline and need and the fact that you can feel his hard dick straining in his jeans against your pussy.

JJ tips his head in a nod, his lips still quirked. “Aye aye, captain.”

He undoes the restraints on his jeans, and his fingers disappear into the flyguard. Your eyes bounce between his face and his hands, his expression contorted in pure concentration that would be adorable if it wasn’t so seriously not. His tongue’s poking between his teeth, panting like an excited puppy, and you just want to—

“Hop on, baby,” he says triumphantly, and those stupid lips curl into an even more stupid grin. His hands pat his thighs to draw your attention downward.

Fuck.

Your eyes must darken at the sight of him, hard and leaking precum, because he starts cackling like there aren’t police on the other side of the door, trying to cuff him and throw him in the backseat of a police car. “C’mon. Don’t be stingy now, baby, I see how bad you want it.”

There are rare moments that JJ is right. Broken clocks right twice a day, or something like that. When he’s right, he’s always dead on, and it’s infuriating.

You glance up at the little window in the door, and for then, at least, it’s clear. No shining flashlights beaming into the pantry you’re both camping in…

You make bad decisions far less than JJ does. Still, like broken clocks, you both align sometimes.

Lifting your hips off of his lap, his hands grasp at the backs of your thighs, guiding you onto his waiting cock, slapping it lightly against your pussy a couple of times before he lines himself up and drags the swollen head of it down your folds beneath your panties. He doesn’t give any warning before he pushes himself into you, a hard thrust that brings him all the way to the hilt at once.

Your lips fall open in a sharp gasp, and just barely does his hand make it over your mouth before the moan falls out of your mouth. One hand over your mouth, the other on your ass, guiding you into moving.

“As much as I love that mouth of yours,” JJ groans into your ear, low and rough like the words are being pried out of his lungs and torn through his ribs, “gonna have to keep it down this time.”

He’s such a fucking hypocrite, though — the moment you adjust to the size of him filling you completely, stretching your inner walls to accommodate to him, and you start to move on your own? His head tips back against the door, guttural moans underneath his breath.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he manages, and you slam down on him again, his hand dragging your hips forward to grind your aching pussy against his pelvis in slow circles. “Oh, fuck, baby—”

“Shut up,” you muffle through his hand, even though it’s getting to you too, his palm stifling every gasp and breathy whimper before it leaves your parted lips.

His hand clasps tighter around your mouth, his heavy, half-lidded eyes boring into yours. “You’re not the one in control here, baby.”

It’s easy to forget, with him stretching you out and being relatively gentle right now, that he’s higher than he’s ever been. Adrenaline turns people into carcasses of themselves; wearing them down to the bone, using every scrap of energy available.

His blown pupils are glimmering with it. He’s daring you with nothing but a look to see what happens when you keep running your mouth. His hand relents its hold on your mouth, and the other stills your hips as you stay suspended halfway down his cock.

The whine you let out is something you’ll deny later. The gravelly laugh he lets out is something that indicates he won’t let you.

JJ smears his hand across your mouth, taking the saliva from the corner of your lips and spreading it across them, your cheek, before his two fingers slide into your mouth. “Not so bossy now, are you, baby?” he asks under his breath, as he thrusts his fingers in and out, as he slams his hips up in that same relentless pace as them. “Not so bossy when I’m fucking that mouth and that pretty little pussy.”

His words burn from your lower stomach to up your spine, electric everywhere they reach. You can do nothing but take it, your hands on his shoulders for some sense of stability.

Each thrust has the tip of his cock against your cervix, has his fingers clawing along your tongue as he presses them down on it just enough to pry your jaw open.

“Lemme see that smile, sweetheart,” he murmurs, those two fingers spreading out into a V, forcing the corners of your lips up and into a wide grin. You sneer, and all that does is make him pound into you harder. “Don’t act so fuckin’ fussy, you’re gettin’ what you wanted, aren’t ya?”

His fingers press on your tongue again, and your lips close around them again. It’s a good distraction from the way you want to scream. Not like you’d ever put that thought in his head with his ego.

JJ slows his pace, but each thrust is just as hard, so deep in you that you can feel each of them, each minute detail; the thick head of his cock against your cervix, every inch that stretches you further with each of those thrusts, the obscene sound in the silent room of skin slapping against skin.

“Baby, m’not gonna last much longer,” JJ pants into your ear, his voice still as rough but with an air of desperation. “Not like this, not with how fuckin’ good you’re bein’ for me, nice and quiet while I fuck your juicy pussy— fuck, baby.”

He drags his fingers over your lips again, this time down, down the valley between your breasts, your stomach, your navel, until they’re planted right in the hot wetness of your folds. They find your clit and begin to rub the swollen nub, slow and gentle and completely at odds with the brutal fucking.

You’re good, though, even without his hand covering your mouth. Even with—

A flashlight beams through the glass window above the both of you. Your eyes glance up to see it, and JJ’s staring at the spotlight of gold in the center of the room, just inches from his extended legs.

It flicks left, right, and you see the glimmer in the eyes of the officer right there, face pressed to the glass, hear the doorknob jangle against the chained lock—

JJ doesn’t stop. His pace becomes quicker, more erratic, more desperate. Your jaw trembles with the effort to keep your parted lips from making any sound at all, the precipice so close that you’re terrified of whatever noise is going to come out of your mouth when you cum.

The beam from the light swings away, disappearing as the officer walks away, muffled words through the walls separating you and JJ from them.

It’s just in time, too, because you cum with a soft and breathless gasp, your walls pulsing around his cock, your head falling forward to bury into his collar. His moans begin to shudder in your ear, and you know that he, too, is cumming. Feel it seconds later, when your head starts to clear from the haze of ecstasy, as the warmth of his cum fills you, his cock twitching inside of you.

JJ lifts his fingers from between your legs and pops them into his mouth, the sound of him sucking the essence of you off of them making your legs tremble around him. “Like fuckin’ sin,” he whispers reverently.

He’s so pretty like this. All spent and molten, softening cock inside of you like an extension of you now. His hand lifts to cup your cheek, thumb brushing stray hairs off of your face in the process.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, just as reverently as before, voicing the same thoughts you’d been having about him.

“You’re so stupid,” you say in response, not capable of telling him how much you love him, feeling it to be the wrong time, too cheesy, another thing he’ll tease you about later.

It’s there, though, on the tip of your tongue. I love you. And you do, so much that it aches. This man that’d been your best friend since you could remember anything. This man who sacrificed everything constantly for everyone.

He wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything anymore, you wanna say. He could rest now, you wanted to say, too.

But it feels wrong. And there’s always another time to tell him when it doesn’t just seem like bliss-driven thoughts. There’s always another day.

notes, thoguht my grief was over but the ending made me cry for some reason that's how u know this death hit deep bc why am i crying over like four lines in a Smut pls

#dahlia's ☆ journal #dividers by cafekitsune #pogue!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks #obx #outer banks one shot #obx one shot

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pearlessance · 3 months ago

Text

Beneath the Armor —part one

summary: Joel Miller has been the center of all the gossip in the trailer park since he tragically lost his daughter. He's short-tempered and mean as hell, his hostility no doubt spurred on by that beer he always has in hand. But when you need a ride to work and he's your last resort, you come to find he's much more than what meets the eye.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI (not in this part but in part two!), ANGST with a happy ending, grief, mention of child loss, daddy issues, age difference, slow burn, attempted seduction, use of alcohol, and references to alcohol abuse, brat taming, eventual smut

wc: 6.9k

note: this entire concept is owed to my bff joelmillersgirlfriend over on AO3! we've cowritten this together (to the shock of no one, i'm pretty sure i need her to write at this point), and if you haven't gone over there to read her stuff by now then you're missing out!! part two coming soon <3 let us know what you think!

[part two]

[masterlist] [read on AO3!]

Talking to Joel Miller was like pulling teeth with a rusty old plier, one by one, nerve by nerve. He used his silence, his pity like a suit of armor. Meant to protect him, but still wrapped around a man who was too scared to confront his fears. To learn his own forgiveness.

You had vaguely known him since you were a senior in high school and had seen him and his little girl move into the trailer across from yours. You were sitting on the front porch, occasionally sipping from the iced lemonade in your hand. Summer had come in hot, and the beaming sun was relentless during the first humid weeks of July.

Joel and Sarah had been the talk of the neighborhood — the dad and the little girl with an oxygen tank. You heard the rumors from some of your friends in the trailer park - that Joel couldn’t afford to keep up with her medical bills, so he had to sell his house and abandon the business he had built up with his bare hands.

Still, she was a fighter until her last breath. Joel, however, died the day Sarah did. She had only lived for eleven months after moving into the park. What was once a motivated little family fighting hard against the disease soon became a single man inside of an empty shell.

His warm smiles that he would give to neighbors who brought Sarah over toys and “get well soon!” cards soon turned into nothingness — a dark, empty expression. Joel stopped going out as much, replacing soccer balls and dirty sneakers with whiskey and cigarettes. He no longer stood out on his porch, playing guitar and smiling at you once he met your eyes from your own porch.

Kathy, who lived directly next to you, begged her husband, Parker, to call the cops for a wellness check for Joel. On the first anniversary of her death, he didn’t leave the house for a week.

“Mind your own business. God only knows how he’s havin’ to cope; seeing cops knocking on his front door in the middle of the night won’t help nothing.”

You had to admit you were more than a little relieved when you saw him finally emerge, tired-looking with heavy eyes. He got in his car and left before coming back thirty minutes later, a new case of beer in tow.

You spent too much time observing him, ensuring he was alright, even if he didn’t know that. With no dad that you could remember and a mother who remarried some douchebag and skipped town after you were old enough to live on your own, all you had was time. After senior graduation, your friends in the park found a way to escape to college, but you were stuck and unable to escape, just like Joel.

While your friends went to get a degree, you found a job at a bar up the road. It was grimy and far beyond your dream, but you earned good tips. With responsibilities that caused you to stay and a deep fear of failure, you could not leave the town you’d grown up in.

Out of desperation, you’d leaped and applied to some college several towns away. It was a spur-of-the-moment impulse, an unrealistic kind of thing. It’s not like you’d be able to afford it anyway.

So it was a cycle: wake up, work, sleep, and do it all over again. You understood how Joel must feel, trapped in a never-ending pattern, reliving memories that couldn’t ever really go away — not entirely.

And of course, you understood what it was like being handed the short end of the stick. You both wound up in the same place, after all.

Which was what led you to walk towards Joel’s trailer one evening. Your shift at work was about to start, but your car wouldn’t crank. You'd tried going to Kathy’s house first, but nobody answered. You couldn’t lose your job, already having too many tardies because of your piece of shit car.

The soles of your shoes crunched against the leaves on Joel’s front porch step, your eyes moving to look at him sitting in a plastic lawn chair. His hair was getting long, hanging over his eyes wildly.

Joel bristled when he noticed you standing on his front porch step, a cigarette hanging between his lips. You’d never been this close to him. It was much easier to see how handsome he was up close: thick hair, a graying beard. Simply too easy on the eyes.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his eyes slipping away from your face and down to your outfit. You always dressed up for work, knowing it’d get you extra tips. Maybe you went a little overboard with the fishnets and the amount of cleavage you were showing, but it always paid off in the end.

His hips shift in his seat, waiting for you to answer his question.

You cleared your throat, standing up straight to make yourself feel more significant compared to the giant man. “I’m sorry to bother you. My car won’t start, and I’m gonna be late for work.”

Joel glared up at you. “So?”

Taken aback by his hostility, you paused, hesitating. You knew that he was a sad man, but nobody had told you that he was an asshole.

“So… I was hoping you could give me a ride. I could pay you for the gas and-“

Joel stood up in the middle of you talking, the wood creaking under his boots as he walked to the front door and into the house. You faltered, standing stupidly on this rude man’s front porch step.

With a huff, you spun around, leaving the porch. “Fuckin’ asshole,” you muttered under your breath, suddenly jumping at the sound of the screen door slamming shut behind you. Joel had returned, this time with keys in his hand and a brown t-shirt pulled over his white wife's beater.

“Say somethin’?” Joel asked, walking ahead but narrowing his eyes directly at your face.

“Nope,” you quickly chirped, rushing to catch up with him. “I thought you’d left me standing outside.”

“‘Bout did,” Joel grumbled under his breath, unlocking the truck door before climbing in. It was your turn to narrow your eyes at Joel, rolling them at the asshole. Even though he was an unexpected dickhead, you had to admit that you enjoyed the way his arms flexed as he pulled himself into his truck.

The drive to the bar was filled with mostly silence, except for the hum of some Radiohead album playing on the radio. Joel had the truck windows rolled down, the wind whipping the loose strands of your hair around your face.

You tried to subtly glance over at him, watching the same cigarette from earlier placed between his plush lips. Without thinking, you reached over, plucking the cigarette away from his mouth.

His dark eyes snapped at you in disbelief as he watched you inhale his cigarette, the residue from your lipstick staining the filter. You weren’t sure why you needed to catch Joel’s attention, but you were sure it somehow related to how he was ignoring you. It made you crave his attention. Fucking daddy issues.

“Now you owe me gas money and a pack of Marlboro’s,” Joel said, reaching over to swipe the cigarette out of your mouth. He eyed the lipstick stain, sighing in annoyance before deciding the nicotine was worth it.

Your blood warmed at the thought that Joel’s lips touched where yours had just been, indirectly tasting your mouth. His eyes flickered over to you, watching him, a low frown on his face.

“What’s a girl like you workin’ at Dazzlers anyways?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at his remark. “I’m a bartender, not a lap dancer,” you said, prompting Joel to give you an eye roll in return.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he muttered, almost so quietly that you didn’t notice, but you did. You understood that he had been through a lot, but Christ, there was no need to take it out on you. You swallowed your pride, knowing he was your last resort to not being fired.

Despite the weird tension and the silence, you found yourself drawn to Joel’s brooding energy, glancing at him occasionally through the darkness.

Apparently, he was more observant than you thought.

“Need somethin’?” he questioned, not even glancing in your direction. Maybe it had to do with dad spidey senses or something, but being caught had made your blood warm in your veins.

You shook your head, unable to bite your tongue.

“Nobody told me that you were such a dickhead.”

To your surprise, Joel didn’t even falter, with almost no response to your jab at his aggressive demeanor.

“Yeah, well, watchin’ your daughter deteriorate right in front of you can change a man,” he replied bluntly, taking a long drag of his cigarette without even looking away from the road.

It made you instantly feel bad, regretting your words no matter how much truth they held.

“That’s not what I meant-“ you tried to explain, but Joel waved his hand, dismissing your excuse. His large palm made a rush of air past your face, your eyes blinking at him in response.

“Just leave it,” Joel grumbled, so you obeyed. It wasn’t for long before you arrived at your job, your eyes watching the bright neon lights flashing through the parking lot. You rifled through your purse, attempting to retrieve a couple of bills, but Joel’s palm wrapping around your own stopped you.

Bright-eyed, you looked up to meet his gaze, his usual timid expression replaced with one of determination.

“You don’t gotta pay me.”

Strong words coming from someone who was just belittling you for owing him money for gas and cigarettes.

“I don’t wanna owe you anything. Just let me give you a couple of dollars and we’ll call it even,” you said, attempting to rifle back through your bag, but being stopped by his massive palm once again.

“Who’s gonna bring you back home tonight?” Joel questioned, his concern genuinely surprising you. Before you shrugged, you allowed your defenses to fall, mostly due to your shock.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out.”

Joel shook his head, rolling his eyes at your half-assed answer. “What time does your shift end?”

You paused, pulling your purse to your chest before glancing at the front of the building. Did you really want Joel to pick you up? Was sitting through another weirdly comforting yet intense ride worth it?

When you looked back at Joel, he didn’t seem willing to take no for an answer; his eyebrows were drawn into an almost scowl-like expression. Sighing with exasperation, you finally spoke.

“We close at midnight.”

He nodded in response, breaking his intense eye contact with you before opting out to seemingly judge the building itself. It was a rough place, with neon lights flashing and motorcycles lined up at the entrance. It certainly looked more intimidating than it actually was.

You were surprised when Joel decided to bite his tongue, not slipping out with some smart allelic response about the place. Instead, he hummed, a quick and easy response to your answer.

“I’ll see you then,” he replied, but something about his words made your chest burn, like it was almost a promise that he’d be there to look out for you. To protect you.

He did wind up picking you up that night and numerous nights after you explained to him that your alternator had given out and your car would be in the shop for a couple of days. He never argued or took your gas money despite the way he grumbled under his breath when you knocked at his front door at quarter past three.

It was almost routine to have Joel take you to and from work, and when your car was back in operation, you nearly didn’t want to tell him. Though your time together hadn’t really given you a glimpse into the man Joel truly was since he hardly spoke, it allowed him to get to know you.

You’d rambled on about your absent father, how your mom had abandoned you once she realized you could support yourself. Never did he judge or belittle you. He’d always listen and make sure you were heard.

Despite that, he never answered your questions when you’d pried at him. Asking him about family? No go. The business he’d given up? Of course not.

Anything about Sarah?

The first and only time you had fished for information about her, you thought he was going to toss you out of his car. His eyes narrowed and fists clenched the steering wheel, an audible growl of anger leaving his throat.

“You ever say her name again, and you can walk to work, understand?”

You hadn’t seen much of his anger explode like that before, except during the unexpected arrival of his brother, Tommy. It was on the evening that you finally got your car back, and as you mustered the courage to walk over to Joel’s trailer to let him know that he didn’t have to take you back and forth, you noticed something. In front of his crumbling front deck was a dark pick-up truck, one that didn’t belong in a place like this. It was sparkling new, clearly waxed, with big, gleaming rims.

Before you even had the chance to think much about it, you heard a shout inside Joel’s trailer, a booming voice that almost made you scurry back to your own home.

“I already told you, Tommy! I’m not doin’ it!” Footsteps tracked through the house, heavy boots against weak plywood practically shaking the trailer. You could see shapes pass by the front window, suggesting that both Joel and his seemingly unwanted guest were about to come outside.

Now you were actually scurrying across his lawn, attempting to retreat back from Joel’s yard before you were spotted, but the front door opened too quickly. Thankfully, the heated conversation between him and who you assumed to be Tommy precluded their heated gazes from meeting yours.

Without wanting to assume who Tommy was, he certainly looked like he was related to Joel - their intense glares were almost identical. The height, the face-shapes, all of it. Even Tommy’s deep drawl matched as he bellowed in return.

“I don’t understand why you gotta be so goddamn stubborn. Here I am, drivin’ halfway across the county just to see you, to give you an opportunity to get out of this shithole, but instead, you’re chosin’ to live in a shell and letting yourself wind up just like-”

Joel’s frame towered over Tommy’s despite the considerable height that Tommy had himself. Something dark was brewing beneath Joel’s features, clearly quite close to boiling over. Even though you knew you were watching an intense, private moment, you had never seen this kind of emotion from Joel before. You were almost bewitched, unmoving, questioning if you should intervene to stop a potential fight from breaking out.

Tommy’s nostrils were flared, his chest pressed against Joel’s, while Joel’s fists were clenched into a tight ball, threatening to strike like a snake.

“I told you last time. Bring her up again, and you won’t have a mouth left to speak from.”

Tommy scoffed. “She was just as much mine as she was yours, Joel. Just because you ran away when things got hard and buried yourself deeper and deeper into a hole doesn’t mean I don’t miss her.” He began to stomp off of the front porch, making his way to the truck that was parked in the driveway.

“But that’s fine! This will be the last damn time I come over thinkin’ that maybe you’re ready to change. Go ahead and delete my number from your phone.”

Both you and Joel, as well as a couple of other neighbors who had decided to leave their houses to view the commotion, watched Tommy’s truck tires screech against the pavement. His departure was bitter and final, an angry bite to the way he spit those words.

You can’t imagine being on the receiving end of them, and when you turned your head to glance at Joel, you found his eyes boring into you. His shoulders are pulled tight, and his jaw is set, and he said nothing as he stepped back into his trailer and slammed the door hard behind him.

Perfect timing, you thought to yourself. There’s never been a better day for your car to have been up and running again. You didn’t waste time lingering in his yard.

But before you can feel the pavement of the narrow street beneath your sneakers, his disgruntled voice cut through the air. “Where do you think you’re goin’?”

You turned to face him, unsure of yourself. Joel’s an asshole, you know that much, but you didn’t think you’ve ever seen him this worked up and angry. “Uhm…about that. I was just coming to tell you that I don’t need a ride today-”

Joel scoffed and shook his head, keys jingling in his hand “Get in the damn truck,” he said, venom on his tongue. And you know he’s not mad at you, but your stomach turned at his fury anyway. “Gonna be late if we don’t get a move on.”

Tomorrow, you decide. You’ll tell him about your car tomorrow. But for now, you do as he said. While he stuck the key in the ignition and turned the engine over, you climbed into the passenger seat, which still smelled faintly of your perfume from the night before.

He pulled onto the road and started the familiar route to the bar, his movements rehearsed and, by now, muscle memory. You sat in silence as he steered with one hand and pulled a cigarette from the center console with the other. He lit it, inhaled the nicotine deep into his lungs, and let out a heavy sigh.

You wondered if you should say something. A million questions are pressed against the back of your teeth. But now isn’t the best time to poke and prod for a glimpse into the man he is outside of what you’ve seen with your own two eyes. So you decided to say something else instead, something that might grant him a little relief. “My car is fixed. That’s what I was trying to tell you. So, tomorrow, you won’t have to worry about giving me rides anymore.”

He glanced at you briefly and then shook his head. “No.”

The word is so simple and definitive in his mouth that it caught you off guard. So much so that you found yourself fighting amusement. “What do you mean no?”

“Just what I said, damn it. You hard of hearing all of a sudden?”

“Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you?” You hadn’t wanted to press his buttons. Truly. But what right does he have to spew insults as if you were the one screaming at him on his front porch? Your tone was condescending as you said, “Come on. Try it with me; congrats! I’m sooo happy things are finally going your way! I’m glad I could be of help! No problem at all-!”

“Cut that shit out.”

“Me? You first.”

His jaw feathered as he clenched his teeth. He ashed his cigarette out of the open window and then sighed again, calmer this time. “Alright. I’m…”

“Sorry?”

His throat bobbed as if he tried to get the word out but it didn’t quite make it to his tongue. Instead, he just said, “Yeah.”

This time, you’re the one sighing. “It’s okay.”

Another few seconds of silence passed between you, but they were not as uncomfortable as they’d been when you’d first gotten into the truck. Less tension, less anger. And then he said, “Don’t want you drivin’ anywhere in that thing in the middle of the night.”

Your heart pinched in your chest at the words. They’re said with a certain sort of irritation, but yet they’re still so… protective. It’s not something you’ve ever had before, but in the last few days he’s given you a taste and it isn’t until now that you realized you’d developed a craving for it. “Why not?”

“Ain’t safe. Could break down again any second. Leave you stranded at midnight in the middle of nowhere. God knows the kinda people you’re servin’ at that place, would consider themselves lucky to find ya on the side of the road.” He shook his head as if to clear the image from his mind. “I’ll just keep takin’ ya.”

Even though you fought the warmth that crawled up your cheeks, you know he could tell his words did something to you. Joel’s attention left the road for only long enough to steal a fleeting glance at your face, and when he turned back to the task at hand he snorted incredulously.

But it’s the first time that anyone has ever considered your safety and altered their routine to make it a priority. It makes you feel special and warm and…wanted. And you know it’s likely your daddy issues blurring the lines once again, but you just can’t help yourself or the way your mind jumped to conclusions. “Is that your way of saying you care about me?”

He pressed his fingertips into his temple to massage away a headache. “Stop that.”

You didn’t listen. Of course, you don’t. You leaned in closer, hands on the empty leather seat between you. “Aww… who would've thought Joel Miller would secretly be a softie?” You’d never been so close to him before, so close that you could see the brown-colored freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose.

You swallowed down your sudden nerves due to the close proximity, enjoying the way Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I said cut it out. Sit back down the right way ‘fore I get a ticket.”

It was impossible to follow his orders now, not after seeing how easy it was to rile him up.

Moving even closer, your lips a breath's distance away from Joel’s neck, you whispered, “I think you like the attention.”

“I think you’re mistaken,” he huffed back, but his voice lacked the bite he intended, much softer than the way he was yelling at Tommy earlier. His gaze flicked over to you, watching with an intense curiosity, but only momentarily.

“I won’t tell you again,” Joel commanded, brushing you back to your seat with a gentle shove of his elbow.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t?” you questioned, although you were sitting back in your seat like he asked you to. “Punish me? Spank me?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, I oughta. Maybe it’d finally teach you some manners,” Joel glanced over to catch your eye. “Anyone ever told you that you got a real weird sense of humor?”

Shrugging, you couldn’t help the slide smirk that spread across your face. “Blame it on my daddy issues.”

Joel didn’t even try to hide his disbelief, a red flush rising from the top of his collarbones and up his neck.

“Lord help me,” he whispered under his breath.

You granted him a bit of grace, ending your teasing and opting to enjoy the sound of music playing on the radio for the rest of the ride. It was always peaceful riding with Joel, the heat of the summer breeze warming your face.

From the heady smell of Joel’s Marlboros to the shrill voice of The Smashing Pumpkins playing over the speakers; the comfort of the situation always made you want to break down Joel’s walls. You wanted to see what he was like when he was entirely vulnerable, what he looked like when he woke up in the morning and didn’t have the opportunity to remember all his worries.

From that moment, you decided that you would get Joel to open up one way or another.

Your heart dropped a little when he pulled into the bar's parking lot, his tires crunching against the loose gravel. Joel’s long fingers were swift, reaching to the radio to turn down the music.

Things felt weird, that same intensity from the moment you’d gotten into the car returning. It felt like he wanted to say something, his mouth twitching before his lips were pressed into a straight line.

“I wasn’t joking, y’know,” you said, hoping to break the awkward silence of saying goodbye.

Joel didn’t say anything, the curious raise of his eyebrow speaking for him.

“About wanting you to spank me,” you snipped back, hopping out of his truck right after you admitted it to him. You could see what appeared to be a stifled smile forming on his lips as he shook his head. It made you feel good that you were able to distract him from reality for even a couple of minutes. God knew he needed it.

“See you at midnight. Stay out of trouble,” he called back from his truck, waiting to leave until he watched you safely enter the building.

He was on your brain your entire shift, which wasn’t unusual. What was different now was the pieces of information you’d found out, ranging from his argument with Tommy and his little resistance to your flirting.

So, of course, curiosity killed the cat. On your break you found yourself googling a string of searches; Joel Miller, Tommy, Joel and Tommy, until eventually you landed on an old company website.

Miller Bros Construction Company.

It was outdated, with inquiries and testimonials from years ago, but it did answer a couple of your questions. After clicking on the “about us” tab, you saw a photo of a much younger, happier-looking Joel.

His arm was thrown around Tommy’s shoulder, a huge smile plastered on his face. If you didn’t know every inch of Joel’s face, you would’ve considered that it wasn’t actually him. He looked so… happy. It broke your heart to know that he had become half of the man he used to be.

‘Brothers Joel and Tommy Miller have been serving the greater population of Austin, TX for several years,’ the tab read, confirming your suspicions that they were related. You glanced at Tommy, happily smiling next to Joel, directly contradicting what you’d seen earlier.

The inquiry tab at the bottom was broken, redirecting to a no longer active form.

Christ. His daughter's death had indeed ruined him. It had sucked all of the happiness out of Joel, leaving him angry and alone. He pushed everything good and decent away.

You spent the rest of your break lurking, sifting through Tommy’s Facebook page, seeing his now solely owned business booming. He had a pretty fiancé, and things honestly looked good for him. You noticed that Joel was nowhere on his page, but you would occasionally see photos of Tommy and Sarah beaming together before she’d gotten sick.

The guilt of it all had eaten at you, so severely that you decided to buy a burger plate before the kitchen closed for the night. Joel had gone out of his way to take care of you, to take you back and forth from work, even though he grumbled about it. He deserved to feel taken care of in return.

Plus, you were almost certain that his diet mainly consisted of cigarettes and alcohol. How he still looked so goddamn good was a question you’d never have answered.

When you left work, it was like clockwork; Joel’s truck sat outside the building, waiting for you.

The sun was long gone by now, so it was difficult to see Joel sitting in the driver's seat. You’d hoped that he had cooled off from earlier, especially now that you know more about the context of the argument.

You plopped into the passenger seat, greeting Joel only by placing the plate of food on the center console.

“What’s this?” Joel questioned, no hello or how was your shift? Typical Joel Miller.

“What’s it look like? I got you dinner.”

He rolled his eyes, pointing a finger at the clock display. “It’s midnight.”

“And…?” He raised his brows and you clicked your tongue in response. “When was the last time you had a meal that wasn’t made in a microwave?”

Joel fixed you with a stare, and something lingered in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. It’s as if he’s trying to decide whether to yell at you or simply say thank you. “I didn’t ask you to do that,” he stated, but there was no malice in it.

“I know. I wanted to.” You shrugged casually because it was truly nothing to you. But apparently, Joel didn’t see it that way.

The truck sat idle in the parking lot. He said nothing for several seconds, which felt far too long. It was dark—the only illumination provided was the distant street lamps outside, but you swore you could see the corners of his mouth turn up. Not quite a smile, but something. And it made you feel so victorious that you thought about mentioning it, about making some snide remark, but know better by now.

Instead, you teased him. “At this rate, I might as well pack a bag and stay the night here.”

Joel scoffed but turned the key in the ignition anyway. “You got a mouth on you, girl. That’s for damn sure.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t sent me away yet. So there must be something you like about it, right?”

He doesn’t agree but he doesn’t deny it, either. Still, sarcasm dripped off his tongue as he said, “Somethin’ like that.”

When he turned the radio up, a rock ballad played and put you at ease. You start to realize that these quiet moments with him are the lightest part of your days. Nothing to think about but the way the cool wind hit your face and the sound of his soft humming from behind the wheel. It’s simple and good and you feel safe.

When he pulled into the trailer park a short while later, you almost hated to see it end. For a split second, you debated inviting him over in an attempt to extend your time together. But you knew that after the day he’s had, he probably didn’t want the company. So instead, you gathered your things and hopped out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Hang on a sec.”

You paused with your hand on the passenger door. “Yeah?”

Joel hesitated. He opened his mouth to speak, but all he managed was, “Uh..” His eyes darted everywhere but yours. The dashboard, the steering wheel, his hands - everywhere but you.

He’s nervous, you realized. Uneasy. You tried to comfort him. “What is it?”

“I, uh…I was just wonderin’ if, I don’t know. You wanna… split it with me?” He pointed to the takeout container. “Or you could have a drink, or…do you drink?”

Your heart was doing somersaults behind your sternum. A girlish giggle left you despite your attempts to hide your excitement. Through a face-splitting grin, you asked, “Like a date?”

“Christ,” he sneered. “You know what? I take it back. Never-”

“I’m kidding!” Your laughter filled the cab of the truck. “I’m just kidding, Joel, I swear. Of course, I’ll come in for a drink.”

He looked hesitant, and at first, you thought it was because of how you’d been pulling his leg all night. By the time you had made it inside of his trailer, you realized that he was probably a little nervous on account of the mess in his living room.

Empty bud light bottles covered the surface of the side table next to his couch. An ashtray haphazardly placed on the kitchen counter was long overdue to be emptied, ash and half-smoked cigarettes threatening to spill over. Next to it were a couple of prescription bottles, the print too small for you to make out what they were supposed to be treating.

No matter how you felt about the place, you understood how difficult it all must’ve been for Joel. It wasn’t dirty or anything, just unkempt, a man overwhelmed by grief too distracted to focus on cleaning.

“It’s not much to see, but feel free to make yourself at home,” Joel said, slipping past you at the front door to place the bag of food down on the kitchen counter. You watched him momentarily, taking in the normalcy of his routine.

His movements to wash his hands before eating, the clatter of plates being pulled out of the dishwasher. Watching him in his element relaxed you. You tried to envision what it was like in the home when Sarah was still alive, filling the space with her innocent laughter.

“I won’t bite,” Joel spoke, pulling you out of your own head. Your gaze refocused, a quiet sense of fulfillment washing over you as you watched him for a fleeting second.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” you chirped back, toeing out of your work shoes and heading over to his leather couch. A knitted blanket thrown across the leather prevented the back of your legs from pressing against the cold material, and you were grateful.

“Do you get pleasure outta givin’ me a hard time or something?” Joel asked, plopping next to you. He slid a plate over to your side of the coffee table, pulling the table forward slightly so you’d be able to reach it easier. He placed two beers on the table, too, and cracked the seal of yours. It’s such a small but gentlemanly thing to do, and you try not to think too hard about how it makes your heart swell.

You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until he unwrapped the bag and split the food between the two of you, your stomach growling in response.

“I just like seeing you squirm,” you joked, noticing how Joel shook his head and snorted under his breath. Both of you ate together, quietly but comfortably.

You were sure that Joel spent most of his nights like this, in his living room with the TV flashing light across the walls of the house. It made you feel good that you were there to change his routine so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

The longer that time passed and the less food on your plate created an odd sense of pressure, that you were running out of time to pull something new out of Joel. Being in his home was an accomplishment on its own, but you still had a challenge with yourself to learn even more.

“Do you wanna, uh,” you began to speak, picking at one of your fries to fill the awkward space, “y’know… talk about earlier?”

“Nope,” he replied without hesitation, which you probably should’ve expected. Your pout was uncontrollable, discouraged by his instant lack of vulnerability. But you weren’t going to force him to talk, because he’d for sure shut down.

“Not to be cheesy or anything, but you’re pretty decent to be around, once you stopped being an asshole all the time,” you said, finishing the final bite of your fry. “If you ever need to talk about shit, I’m probably the best option you got here. Kathy tells everyone’s business, so.”

Joel actually chuckled at that, a deep, rumbling sound that made your gut twist. “I didn’t plan on talkin’ to anybody about anything, much less Kathy. But thanks.”

You nodded, a pang of disappointment flickering through your abdomen.

That night, you thanked him for the company and he promised to meet you in the afternoon right on time. The same routine you’ve had all week.

You and Joel get good at routines. Because the next night when you brought him dinner again, he didn’t even ask if you’d like to eat with him. He just said, “Picked up some sodas earlier. Figured you might want that instead of beer.”

And just like that, it became a nightly thing. The cooks at the bar don’t even ask what you want any more, they simply have the food finished by the time you’re ready to meet Joel in the parking lot. You had even occasionally fallen asleep in his living room, the comforting sound of the TV humming and Joel’s even breathing lulling you to sleep.

He always made sure to throw a blanket over you and quietly slip into his room, never waking you or forcing you to leave. It was an unspoken rule.

So, due to your growing interest in Joel and alleviating some of his stress, you decided to take a leap. One morning you’d woken up on Joel’s couch after falling asleep there the night before. Joel wasn’t home, which wasn’t unusual since he sometimes picked up odd jobs at the mechanic's shop in town to pay the bills.

It was the perfect opportunity to clean his house. You weren’t sure how he was going to feel about it, but you were only going to take out the trash and leave everything else as it was. You didn’t need him hollering at you for moving his shit around.

You had a good four hours to just clean out the place, and Jesus, you needed it. It appeared that he didn’t have any other cleaning products besides bleach and dish soap, which you couldn’t really use to get some old stains out of the carpet. It had taken you an hour of rifling through your own stuff to get the correct products and supplies to make a dent.

By the time you finished a couple hours later, you had three trash bags full of random newspapers, beer cans, and whatever other miscellaneous stuff you were sure Joel wouldn’t be upset to part with. Surprisingly, you hadn’t seen anything belonging to Sarah, no pictures hanging on the wall, no toys, nothing that indicated that anyone besides Joel had lived there.

That was until you’d decided to step into the room towards the back of the trailer. Joel’s bedroom was hardly used, his bed made and room clean, indicating that he probably spent most of his nights on the couch, so you didn’t bother cleaning that space. You were, however, curious about the spare room.

As soon as you’d opened it, you knew why you couldn’t find anything of Sarah’s. It was like a museum, a room stuck in time. Light pink paint covered the wall, the late afternoon sun streaming in colorful rays through the sheer purple curtains. The bed was made, without a wrinkle in sight, with a little teddy bear tucked in, as if it was keeping the bed warm for Sarah’s return.

You stepped in a little, taking in the small details; the photos of Joel and Sarah hugging on the wall, a little caboodle makeup box, and nail polishes lined up against the dresser. What truly broke your heart was the oxygen tank that was placed next to her bed, still attached to the mask.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?” spoke a voice from behind you, almost causing your body to jump out of its skin. You whipped around to see an absolutely fuming Joel watching you with narrowed eyes. You stammered, quickly trying to come up with some sort of excuse.

“I was cleaning and I thought, I mean I was thinking that-“

Joel quickly approached you, his face only a mere breath away from yours. You were too anxious to even notice the closeness because you knew he was beyond pissed. You don’t think he was even this mad when he was fighting with Tommy.

“I don’t know why you think that you’re entitled to comin’ into my life, touchin’ my shit, steppin’ foot into this room, but guess what? You’re not.” He spat, stepping even closer to you. You felt tiny, like a bug ready to be squashed by a foot.

“You don’t mean shit to me. Just because your life is fucked up doesn’t mean I need you to try to come into mine and save me. I don’t wanna be saved. Now get the hell outta my house,” he spoke, his voice unwavering and scarily calm. It took every ounce of strength inside of you not to cry, not to shout, because you knew he didn’t mean it. You had crossed his invisible line, despite not doing it intentionally.

But you weren’t strong enough to control your emotions, and eventually, the pressure of Joel’s angry words left your eyes watering. Though your jaw was clenched and your face wasn’t giving much away, Joel easily saw past the facade and noticed the tears welling up in your eyes.

And he scoffed. A quick laugh, right in your face, at seeing your tears.

“Christ, you gonna cry now? Upset that you don’t got no daddy here to comfort you, gotta take out all your trauma on me? Fuckin’ pathetic.”

Your tears turned from hurt, into angry, hot streams rolling down your face.

“Fuck you, Joel.”

You could feel your blood pumping in your head, so angry that you could break something. He was lucky that you made your way straight out of his house instead of grabbing all of the trash bags and pouring them right back onto the floor.

You knew that he was self-destructing, that he was pushing you away because you were too good for him, but it didn’t make his words hurt any less. He wasn’t wrong. You did take interest in him because he was broken, similar to yourself. Despite that, it didn’t hurt any less.

As painful as it was to believe, you began to wonder if he had fooled you.

Maybe all that remained of Joel Miller was the worst part of him.

[part two]

#joel miller #pearlessance #joel miller x reader #ao3 fanfic #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller tlou #angst #the last of us hbo #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #trailer park joel miller #brat taming #tlou fanfiction #tommy tlou #tommy miller makes an appearance #dividers by adornedwithlight

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notlongtolove · 6 months ago

Text

your hand in my hand

after derek’s less-than-intellectual speech about how he was not spending four uninterrupted hours on a train with reid, hotch’s solution was to pair you with spencer instead. and between your notorious driving and spencer’s—well, spencer’s worse driving, the only logical option was the train.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: mutual pining spencer and bau!reader embark on a 4 hour train ride and share some cute moments over a wordsearch book

word count: 3.1k

note: finished finals n hopped on a flight n came back n wrote this on 4 hours of sleep jst bc i couldn't get the idea of a train ride out of my head...

a line: The sight of your bag in his hand was one you could get used to. It was a sight that made you think of Sunday mornings and shared coffee mugs.

It’s beautiful out there— fields, little lakes and winter trees in February sunlight, every car park a shining mosaic. Long radiant minutes, your hand in my hand, still warm, still warm. -wendy cope

“I still think this is a terrible idea.”

“It’s only a four-hour train ride.”

“Yeah, but it could’ve been a two-hour drive.”

“Two? It’s three at the minimum. Danville is—”

“Not if I’m driving,” you smirk.

“And that is exactly why I told Hotch I would not be getting in a car with you.”

Hotch had assigned you and Spencer to check out a secondary lead while the rest of the team travelled out to work a case. After Derek’s less-than-intellectual speech about how he was not spending four uninterrupted hours on a train with Reid, Hotch’s solution was to pair you with Spencer instead. And between your notorious driving and Spencer’s—well, Spencer’s worse driving, the only logical option was the train.

Not that it stopped Spencer from pointing out every possible flaw in your driving on the way to the station.

“I’m not that bad, I swear!” you had protested, rolling your eyes.

“You got two speeding tickets in the last two months.”

“One month,” Garcia had chimed in over the phone. “And actually, technically, it’s three tickets.”

You groaned. “The third one didn’t count! The cop was just—”

“And don’t even get me started on your sense of direction,” Spencer mumbled.

“Pretty girl, I love you, but I’d get in a car with Reid before you, and that’s saying a lot,” Morgan’s voice rang out from over the line.

“Thank you!—Wait, hey!” Spencer spluttered.

By the time you make it to the station, its clear that your BAU Jet Privileges had not prepared you for public transportation. “Wheels up in thirty” definitely did not translate to “trains only leave when you’re ready.”

“Can’t we just tell them we’re, like, important or something?” you grumbled, stretching to peek over the crowd in front of you.

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Spencer muttered, clutching his satchel as he scanned the line. His brow furrowed in that nervous way you’ve come to recognize, the one he always got when cases ran too close to the wire or people hovered just a little too close in his personal space.

As they announced the final boarding call over the station’s intercom, Spencer’s anxiety ramped up, practically vibrating beside you. You, of course, were less concerned. “Relax,” you teased, nudging him. “What are they gonna do, leave without us?”

“Yes,” Spencer snapped. “That’s actually exactly what they’re going to do.”

When a harried-looking attendant opened a new line to speed things up, Spencer grabbed your bag—“God, what is in here?”—and marched you both toward the front of the queue.

“You two together?” she asked, as she gestured between the two of you.

“Oh, uh, no—just friends,” Spencer stammered, color rising in his cheeks.

She blinked at him.

“Spence, she’s referring to our tickets.”

“Oh! Right, right.” He fumbled with his pocket as you handed yours over, suppressing a grin.

Flustered Spencer was your favorite Spencer. Of course, you’d never admit it out loud, but there was something endlessly endearing about seeing him off-balance, especially if you were the cause. Not the encyclopedia, not the profiler, just Spencer. It was a rare glimpse into the version of him you cherished most. The Spencer who remembered your coffee order, who stayed up with you in hotel lobbies when you’ve had one too many said cups of coffee, who once held your hand for 15 whole minutes after you found a kid’s drawing in a victim’s room and couldn’t keep it together.

It was also a little dangerous. Not in the same way your driving was dangerous (though Spencer might argue otherwise), but in the way where you sometimes wondered if you’d crossed some invisible line. If the lingering hugs and casual touches that weren’t exactly casual meant more than either of you were willing to say. But those were dangerous thoughts, ones best left in the quiet recesses of your mind. So you pushed them aside, as you always did, and focused on the here and now.

The here and now being Spencer, still blushing faintly as he grabbed your bag and adjusted it over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with some internal muttering about how much you packed. When the attendant waved you through with a tired smile and Spencer started making a beeline for your platform with your bag in tow, you couldn’t help but grin.

“Thanks, partner,” you teased, earning a glare that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Just get on the train,” he grumbled, turning away before you could see the corners of his lips twitch upward.

The two of you made your way through the carriages after a brief but spirited debate about whether to walk outside along the platform to reach your assigned car or board the train immediately and navigate through it. Predictably, Spencer had won, and now you were squeezing past narrow aisles and weaving through clusters of passengers with a litany of “Excuse me,” “I’m so sorry,” and even a “I didn’t mean to step on your foot sir,” from you.

By the time you finally reached your carriage, the train had already started moving. Spencer shot you a pointed “I told you so” look that made you roll your eyes as you flopped into your seat. Spencer wrinkled his nose as he lowered himself hesitantly into the seat beside yours, clearly doing his best not to make contact with any of the surfaces he deemed less than pristine. His discomfort was almost palpable, the slight twitch of his fingers betraying his thoughts. Public transport wasn’t exactly his favorite—as he’d once explained in great detail, something about microbial colonies on handrails and seats. You leaned back, watching as he tried to situate himself, his satchel perched protectively on his lap like it might shield him from the horrors of public commuting.

“So,” you said, hoping to distract him, “what joys of reading did you bring along for this glorious journey?”

Spencer glanced at you, then sighed, reaching into his bag. “The Sign of Four,” he said, taking out a well-loved copy of the Sherlock Holmes novel.

“Ooh, a classic,” you replied with an approving nod.

“And you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he settled into the question, visibly relaxing, if only a little. His fingers smoothed the corner of his book, but his eyes stayed on you, curious.

You grinned, the kind of grin that promised trouble—or at least something Spencer would find mildly exasperating. Reaching into your bag, you dug through the chaos of receipts, snacks, and whatever else you’d deemed necessary for a four-hour train ride.

“You’re not going to watch something on your phone again are you?” Spencer said, his tone laced with a mix of exasperation and earnest concern. “You do realize that watching something on a phone during a train ride is fundamentally different from doing so on a jet, right?"

“Hold your horses,” you said, your tone light and teasing. “It’s in here somewhere.”

Spencer continued, "The vibrations and lateral motion of the train create a parallax effect that forces your eyes to constantly refocus, which can lead to ocular fatigue and even mild vertigo in some cases—”

“Calm down,” you interrupted, cutting off his impromptu lecture as you pulled out a shiny new word search book. You held it up triumphantly. “Snagged it in the station lobby.”

“I thought you said you needed the restroom.”

“I did,” you said, smirking as you flipped through the book’s pages. “And then I saw this. Couldn’t resist.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes, glancing at the bright, cartoonish cover. “It says meant for ages 10 and up.”

“And last I checked, I am most definitely over the ripe old age of 10, Genius.”

Spencer shook his head, a small, begrudging smile finally breaking through his earlier apprehension. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a lightness in his voice now that made you grin even wider

“And yet,” you countered, “here you are, stuck with me for the next four hours. Lucky you.”

Spencer sighed dramatically, but you didn’t miss the warmth in his eyes.

The train rattled gently as it picked up speed, the two of you settling into your books. Spencer had opened his novel, but the words on the page blurred as his attention kept drifting. You weren’t exactly helping—constantly shifting in your seat, furrowing your brow in concentration as you hunched over your word search book. He tried to focus, he really did, but his gaze kept flicking away from the neat lines of his novel.

You were stuck on the word minimal when he finally caved.

“Top left, vertically,” he said without looking up.

Your brows furrowed for a moment before Spencer reached over and pointed it out for you. “Oh, thanks!” you replied cheerfully, circling the word with gusto.

At first, it had been helpful, funny even, maybe even a little cute. But by the third time he chimed in with a casual, “Parachute. Bottom right, backwards,” you were ready to stage a mutiny.

“You’re ruining word search!” you declared, tearing the book away from his gaze, clutching it dramatically to your chest.

Spencer laughed, an unrestrained, boyish sound that made your cheeks flush. “It’s not my fault you’re so bad at it!”

You gasped, leveling him with a mock glare. “Spencer Reid, you take that back right now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, still grinning, “but it’s like you have horse blinders on or something.”

“Oh, if you’re so good, why don’t you do it?”

It wasn’t a challenge so much as an invitation, but Spencer, being Spencer, took it as both. He snatched the book from your hands, scanned the grid, and completed the puzzle in a little under two minutes.

“Show-off,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help smiling as he handed it back launching into an explanation about linguistic patterns and visual recognition.

You both settled into a rhythm, solving the rest of the puzzles side by side. You held the pencil—because, as you put it, you deserved the pencil holding honor—though Spencer still pointed out words before you even had a chance to finish reading the list.

“Butterfly. Horizontal, top left,” he said without missing a beat.

“I saw that! I was getting to it!” you protested, circling the word with exaggerated flair.

Spencer smiled to himself as he watched you, his book long forgotten. Just as you had your favorite version of him, he had his own of you, one he’d never admit aloud. There was something about these little moments—when your carefully curated wit gave way to playful exasperation—that he absolutely adored. No clever retorts, no sharp-edged humor, just you.

The two of you had been working on the word search together for a while now, the small book balanced precariously on the shared armrest between your seats. Naturally, you’d both leaned in closer without realizing it, the space between you narrowing as the train rattled along. But after a few jerks on the track Spencer notices you shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your expression tightening just slightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice gentle as he glanced at you.

“Armrest’s digging into my side,” you admitted, twisting a little as if to escape the offending object, the smile you tried to muster falling a little short.

“Ah,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact, “Put it up, then.”

The version of you from an hour ago might have quipped something sarcastic, turning the moment into yet another teasing exchange. But travel fatigue had set in, and the closeness of Spencer—his voice, his warmth, the way he seemed to notice everything—had you more flustered than you cared to admit.

“Oh. Okay,” you murmured, your voice quieter than usual as you moved the armrest up and shifted in your seat. The tension in your posture eased as you repositioned, feeling the strain fade.

“Better?” he asked, his head tilting slightly as he studied your face.

“Mm. Slightly.” you replied, though the truth was that it was a lot better. Without the armrest, you found yourself acutely aware of how close he was—his arm brushing against yours, the subtle scent of his cologne, the way his knee bumped against yours when the train swayed.

Spencer nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips. He shifted slightly too and returned his attention to the forgotten book in his lap. But his fingers drummed idly on the cover, and you could tell his focus was no longer on Sherlock Holmes.

“Let me guess,” you said after a moment, trying to ground yourself in the familiarity of banter. “You’re going to tell me the science behind why train seats are designed to be this uncomfortable?”

Spencer glanced at you, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Actually, I was going to say that the armrests are poorly engineered for optimal comfort. But now that you mention it—”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” you interrupted, groaning as you rolled your eyes, though your grin betrayed you. “Spare me the ergonomics lecture, Doctor Reid.”

Without the armrest dividing you, the space between your shoulders disappeared almost entirely, a quiet sort of intimacy neither of you acknowledged aloud. At first, it was just the puzzle again, you gently nudging the book towards him every now and then, his finger tracing a word before you could even spot it.

“Reindeer. Top right, diagonal,” he said for the third time, his tone just shy of smug.

You circled furiously with a huff.

It didn’t take long for your enthusiasm to bubble over, the book tipping dangerously toward your face as you leaned forward in an effort to beat him to the next word. After the second near miss, Spencer plucked it from your grasp entirely, holding it at what he claimed was the optimal distance for focus while on a moving train—Though he still let you retain your pencil holding privileges.

You leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, resting your chin in your hand as you scanned the page. Now, your shoulder didn’t just brush his in passing—it lingered, resting lightly against his as you stretched toward the book in his hands. The contact was unassuming, almost accidental, but you made no move to pull away, and neither did he. Spencer noticed—you were sure of it. How could he not? But if he minded, he didn’t say anything. You caught the faintest twitch of his lips, the smallest sign that he was aware. Maybe even liked it.

You found yourself leaning more and more, your eyelids growing heavy as the minutes passed. Spencer’s presence was warm beside you, an unspoken comfort that made it easy to drift. It felt like the simplest, most natural thing to surrender to it. You’d handed Spencer the honor of holding the pencil 2 puzzles ago as your head slowly tilted, the weight of it pulling you so temptingly toward his shoulder. A soft sigh escaped you, and before you knew it, your eyes had fluttered shut. Spencer glanced down at you, the way your breathing softened, a perfect stillness that made his chest tighten.

He didn’t know if he should move away. He knew he didn’t want to. So he stayed where he was, fingers curled loosely around the book, watching as the rhythmic back-and-forth of the train mirrored the gentle rise and fall of your chest. After another slight lurch, your head finally made contact with his shoulder. Spencer stilled, his breath catching in his throat. The way your hair brushed against his cheek while your knee pressed gently against his. How your hand lay across his on the book, a lingering trace of your last attempt to spot a word before he did.

It was all too much for Spencer—and yet, it was just right.

He dared not move. He didn’t pull back, even though your hair tickled his face. His knee remained pressed against yours, despite the rhythmic sway of the train threatening to break the contact. His hand stayed where it was resting beneath yours on the book, his fingers loosely curled around the pencil, though the book was long forgotten. He stayed, in this unexpected, perfect stillness.

Before he could stop himself, his head had tilted and found its place upon yours. It was comforting, the contact grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. Spencer let his eyes close, the steady hum of the train and the warmth of your presence lulling him into a strange sense of calm.

When the train finally eased into the station, the gentle jolt stirred you awake. You felt your cheeks warm as the reality of the crowded station seeped back in, the intercom announcements and bustling crowds breaking the intimacy of the moment. Spencer’s eyes were still closed, his breathing even. With a small, almost reluctant sigh, you nudged him awake, the touch soft but insistent. He blinked, looking at you with a hint of confusion that melted into a small smile when he realized where he was.

“Hey,” you murmured, a touch of embarrassment in your voice.

“Hey,” he replied, a soft warmth in his expression.

“You dropped my word search,” you mumbled, nodding toward the book now resting forgotten on the floor between your feet.

“Hm?” He sat up straighter, looking at you with a bit of sleep still clouding his gaze. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you shifted, a little embarrassed at the way you’d curled into him, “I’m sorry I slept on you.”

Spencer’s smile was soft and reassuring. “S’fine. I didn’t mind.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, spreading heat to your face. You quickly bent down to grab your bag, fingers fumbling with the strap, hoping the movement would distract you. But before you could lift it, Spencer’s hand closed over the strap. You feel your heart thump at the gesture, the simplicity of it making you pause for a moment longer than necessary. The sight of your bag in his hand was one you could get used to. It was a sight that made you think of Sunday mornings and shared coffee mugs. Dangerous thoughts.

As you stepped off the train, you instinctively reached for your phone, its screen lighting up with an influx of notifications. Hotch’s name stood out among the messages.

“Hm. Hotch asks if we need a driver for the ride back,” you said, raising your phone to show him, “Says he’ll send a van if we want.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen, the thoughtful expression on his face almost too easy to read. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice casual but with a note of curiosity.

You shrugged, the practiced ease of your movements not quite matching the fluttering in your chest. “I think we’re fine,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light, “unless you want to?”

“Yeah,” he smiled then, the corner of his lips tilting up, “Think the train was just fine.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: north by clairo saw you in a dream by the japanese house

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x bau!reader

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cherie-doll · 7 months ago

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Hellu, could you maybe do a drabble or hc or whatever you feel comfortable with, of the cod men reacting to reader being in a car crash??

(I was just in a car crash, my head hurts, I’m coping 💀)

If not then that’s okay ❤️❤️

my goodness, are you okay dear?? ૮ ㅇㅁㅇ ྀིა

𓏲 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

🝮 Price finally got some downtime to rest and catch up on his sleep debt at home. You insisted he stay home while you go to the grocery store only a few blocks away. Now imagine how his body tenses and he's up from the recliner in a heartbeat the moment he receives the phone call about your accident. He's supposed to drop the tense and hard face off while he's at home with you but this is worse. He's trying to keep calm on the surface but a can of worries within, just wanting to spill out. Thankfully, the accident didn't result in fatalities nor major injuries. He's holding you and checking you all over, listening to everything you're saying. Does something hurt? Feel dizzy? Need water? He's taking you right home, don't worry about the wrecked car.

🝮 Simon's mood when he picks up the phone initially is that he's annoyed, his answering "yes?" is a little sharp because you had just had a small argument over him once again not paying attention to the list of items you insisted he take when grocery shopping but didn't. So now you had to pause everything and go get the thing yourself, which means he'd have to wait at least another hour before he could eat dinner. Your voice over the phone was weak and scared, your frail voice that barely answered because your mind was all over the place and fading. You couldn't think straight after the crash. Simon dropped everything and staying on call with you made it faster than the cops would've. He carried you out of the car and cradled your body in his arms even in the ambulance, all the while muttering lowly how reckless you could be and how stupid and idiotic he was for letting you drive while mad. He swears he'd never let it happen again.

🝮 Johnny wasn't expecting you to answer with "was in a car crash" to "how was your day?" Like why are you telling him just now that you're arriving home. He gets off the couch he's by your side in an instant. Why didn't you call him? Because you thought it was nothing big? He almost thinks you're bluffing, why he can't help but assume the worst or imagine a terrible accident. You're sitting down this instant and- did you go to the hospital? And if you did he's surprised they just let you walk out. You argue back that you barely got a bruise but he insists you're going again and getting an examination done just in case. You have to tell him these things else he'll have a hard time letting you go out alone again.

🝮 The only thing Kyle knew was that you'd be hanging out with friends. And that's how it was supposed to be, he could expect you to come home late in the evening or maybe nearing night. But the clock marked the midnight hour and you hadn't walked through the front door yet; very unusual of you. He paced the living room from one wall to the other, he had the right to be worried so he wasn't being a controlling nor clingy partner if he just wanted to know where you were past midnight. The worry only increased when he called and it went straight to voicemail. Okay, maybe your phone died. And he kept trying to come up with plausible reasons as to why you weren't home yet when the bell rang and he threw the door open to a distressed looking friend of yours explaining the car accident you had been caught up in. You were conscious when taken away but in pain, your friend was still explaining this when Kyle grabbed his shoes and was already walking to the driveway.

🝮 Roach and you frequented bars pretty often and usually took a cab home. You hadn't had more than one drink however and decided to drive home while he dozed off in the backseat. He woke up to the sound of tires screeching and before he could make out what was happening his body was jerked and thrown forward. Groaning and rubbing his neck he called your name only for you to weakly respond. A soft gasp left his lips followed by his fingers reaching out to the bleeding gash, blood staining his fingertips. When he called emergency services and had you taken to the hospital, the cops has questioned how the accident happened and he was ready to take the blame on insisting you drive despite both having consumed alcohol. He knew there wasn't any other believable lie he could sputter, surely the one drink you'd had would show up on the tests.

🝮 Alejandro didn't think it'd ever happen to you. An accident bad enough that you had to be taken to the hospital? He's there as fast as he possibly could get there. He ignores the nurses who are trying to tell him that you're okay for the most part, just a little shaken. But he's checking you all over and almost loses it when he sees a bruise, demanding for the doctor. It takes you forcibly holding him back and holding his head so he can meet your eyes and see that you're fine, you're not in severe pain. From now on you're not driving anywhere alone because he doesn't another scare like that to happen again.

🝮 Rudy is worried sick when you insisted on driving the last stretch of the way home, at night too. Your driving skills are passable during the day but at night it can be difficult to tell from the high beams of other car's lights flashing at you. When you tried braking at a stop sign you saw last minute, due to the ice already forming on the road the car didn't come to a complete stop and nearly skid off the road. His hand instinctively reaches across to hold against your body, making sure you don't fly forward despite you having the seatbelt on. It's just instinct for him to protect you in every situation. He gets off, running over to your side and the time doesn't matter anymore. He'll sit out on the hood of the car however long you need to recover from the close call until you're ready to go back home. Except he's not letting you drive.

🝮 Phillip was waiting at a second location for you to come pick him up after his car was getting fixed for something. He wouldn't have bothered you but the repair shop was half an hour drive away, something was just bound to happen. And he doesn't realize this because his mind is so preoccupied with the petty shop owner over what was the problem with his truck that when his phone rings and he picks up he sounds a little mad, not at you though. Soon he hears a dispatcher's voice instead of yours his mind goes to the worst place. Don't know where he gets the car from but he's speeding down the highway praying that you're fine and he gets to you. But he gets there and sees you sitting on a strip of grass off to the side of the mess and holding an ice pack to your head.

🝮 Makarov is hiring a chauffeur to drive you everywhere and anywhere you need from here on out and finding out who was the idiot who rammed into the back of your car while at a stoplight. He can't believe you didn't ask the other driver for their information, doesn't matter though, he'll get the information later. Maybe you should quit going out altogether, no? Okay it was worth a try, whatever you want. From now on you have to promise to not ever get into an accident ever again. "How am I supposed to control tha-"

🝮 Keegan didn't freak out after you told him you just veered off the main road and were now stuck in some rundown road. He calmly gathered whatever tools he thought he might need and started his truck. The scene he encounters when he arrives is somewhat off, you're waving him over, sitting on the hood of your car with a sheepish smile. He walks around the car and finds the dent on the side and back of the car. And before he can ask what the hell happened- shit, you're bleeding? You're going to have to start from the beginning if you don't want him ignoring your requests and taking you to the emergency room instead.

🝮 König left the car parked with you waiting for him in the passenger seat, and when he came back he sees his car in pieces, absolutely destroyed from a car speeding off the road and ramming into the side. He panics, tries to pry the door open to get to you, even breaks a window before you're tapping him from behind. "I'm right here" He turns around, lifts you off the ground and lets out a sigh of relief. He seriously thought he would have to search through the wrecked car for you. How had you even gotten out? You saw stray cat and got out before the car had been hit. But now you have to be the one worrying over König's hand and forearm which has glass embedded.

🝮 Horangi blames himself for the car crash. He wanted to teach you to drift because you'd seen how he does it and you're eager to nail it too. Things escalate rather quickly and it's no longer a smooth Saturday drive when you loose control and drive off the road, the tires slipping onto the grass and slamming sideways into a tree. He's holding your head, not knowing if you're got knocked out unconscious or not, but his mind doesn't fully register the bigger dent is on the rear doors not the driver nor passenger side. With one hand he's holding your head to his chest, his other shaky hand attempting to dial emergency services, feeling faint himself before you come to and look around confused. He's grabbing your face in his hands looking you all over making sure you didn't receive a single bruise.

🝮 You assumed Nikto would be cross if he saw the state his car was in. He was hesitant to let you drive out alone knowing you still went a little hard on your turns and it had been raining frequently. The moment he arrives, you're fixed on his eyes, carefully determining whether he's already thought of what he'd do to you the moment he saw the disaster his car was. But you're surprised and speechless when he strides over to you, silently looks you over, barely assesses the car and just picks you up. "Aren't you mad?" "About what?" "Your car!" And he barely glances at it, shrugs and drives you home.

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acosmicbee · 23 days ago

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Heyyyyy I have a request...

Can u do a platonic yandere police chief with a child reader who grew up in an abusive household?

Also your stories are the best! I especially loved Teddy Bear that one is probably my fav! 💕 I hope I have an amazing day... Or night 😊

Liar Liar

(Thanks so much for the compliments! I really hope you enjoy my take on your request!)

You had first met Sheriff Hayes when you were five. He was still an officer back then, one of two who had come to your home after you'd told the teacher about how your parents had disappeared all weekend and you'd been left all alone.

He'd then listened as you lied through your teeth about everything because your parents had promised to get you a toy you wanted if you behaved and didn't tell on them. He'd never believed you, always side eyeing you when he saw you around town after that.

It was a small town, the kind with one elementary, middle and high school. You would walk the semi-paved mile to get to the bus stop every morning. One of the other parents there, the mom of your friend Issac, would usually have some sort of snack for you because you almost never ate breakfast at home.

Sometimes you'd see a cop car circle past the bus stop right before the bus came, Hayes at the wheel as he peered at you from behind dark sunglasses. You used to wave but stopped after your parents had told you that cops couldn't be trusted.

It was a nearly identical talk every day. They'd tell you what they'd get you if you kept the dirty home, long periods alone and almost permanently empty pantries to yourself. They'd whisper about how everyone wanted to take you away from them, how they'd put you in a house with a million other kids where no one would know your name.

You didn't think they were right, but after hearing something so many times it started to worm it's way into your thoughts. Officer Hayes never did that for any other kids, you didn't think, only you. He must be watching you because he wants to take you away from your parents.

You began acting out more, little things at first but quickly growing. At home you acted out because it was the only time you could get your parents to actually look at you. Even if they yelled and screamed and threw things, at least they were looking at you for once.

At school you only acted out when you felt it was necessary. You liked most of your classmates and teachers, but often barely did your work. Instead you'd read a book under your desk or talk with your desk mate or doodle something. It was how you coped with everything, how you escaped the wrongness of your life.

Then he got promoted to Sheriff and suddenly you were seeing him around a lot more. When the neighbors called the cops on your parents for yelling at each other and throwing things he was there. When the school called in cops for demonstrations and PSAs he was there.

One thing about being a small town meant there wasn't much crime. He had a lot of free time outside of doing paperwork to just cruise around and watch you. He never approached you, but you knew he was there, watching you.

It all came to a head one day when Sheriff Hayes was waiting for you at the bus stop. You had just gotten off the bus when you saw him, waiting with the other parents, his arms crossed and his face grim. You ignored him, walking past him and starting down the street when you felt a firm hand grip your shoulder.

"Kid, I'm gonna need to bring you to the station. There was an... incident at your home so you're going to need to answer some questions while we wait for a caseworker to get here." He said, his voice deceptively even.

"An incident? Yeah, right. Let me go home." You demanded, pushing his hand off your shoulder as you kept walking. He sighed, stepping out in front of you to block your path.

"Y/N. Listen to me. You need to come to the station with me because legally you cannot go back to that house. It's a crime scene currently under investigation." You froze realizing he was being serious.

"What happened?! What did you do?!" You hissed, hiding your sadness and fear under anger. "You did something! You're always following me around and watching me!"

"Will you let me take you to the station or will I have to restrain you?" He asked, clearly showing you the handcuffs attached to his belt. You reluctantly got into the back of his car, your stomach sinking when you drove past your house, taped off with at least three cop cars outside it.

It was all a bit of a blur and then you were in the police station, sitting across from Sheriff Hayes as he talked with some person from CPS about something. The caseworker had brought some coloring pages for you which you refused to even look at.

They still hadn't told you what happened yet, just that one of your parents had gotten hurt and the other was in custody. Now you were in limbo with no idea where you'd end up. You were about to start taking your frustration and anxiety out on the colored pencils you'd been given when there was a tap on the table, drawing your attention.

"Y/N, Sheriff Hayes is the closest available foster parent we can place you with. It would mean that you wouldn't have to change schools or lose any of your friends. Is that alright with you?" The CPS worker asked, her tone one of practiced kindness when it was clear to you she couldn't care less as long as it was out of her control.

She took your shrug as a yes and within an hour the papers were signed and you were being led back towards the sheriff's car, allowed to sit in the passenger seat this time. "You never told me what happened."

"Thats because it isn't appropriate for child ears." He responded, clicking his seatbelt into place. "You've heard and seen enough as it is with those... people."

"They're my parents. Tell me what happened." You demanded, staring at him as he pulled out of the police station's parking lot. The familiar scenery of the town began to whiz by, but you never took your eyes off of him.

"You really want to know? Fine. We assume there was some sort of argument while high on drugs and it led to your mother shooting your father." He said bluntly. Your eyes narrowed.

"We don't own any guns." You stated. "You're lying."

"Are you really one who should be talking about lying, Y/N? You lied to me about your home life. You lied to your teachers, to your friends and your friends' parents as well." He said, his voice not harsh or cold. He was simply stating a fact.

"You did something. I know you did and one day I'll make sure everyone knows!" You swore, your eyes burning with a fiery hatred.

"I'm sure you will pipsqueak. I'm sure everyone will listen to the kid who starts claiming that the sheriff broke into their home, knowing their parents would be in no state to remember anything or defend themselves. They'll totally believe you when you say that I shot your father and planted the gun on your mother, making sure to leave a backdated receipt paid in cash. Go ahead, Y/N. Tell them." He said, his voice dropping to a dark whisper. "They'll call you a liar, because you are one. If you've lied once, whats stopping you from lying again?"

You fell quiet, fear and disbelief fighting in your head. He... he had just told you exactly how he'd done it... hadn't he? But he seemed so unbothered, his eyes never even leaving the road. Your parents had taught you not to trust the police, but others clearly respected Sheriff Hayes. Would they even listen to you at all?

"You'll learn what it's like to have a full fridge and pantry all the time. You'll learn what it's like having a parent who follows through on what they promise. You'll learn, Y/N, that what I did was right. You can't see it now, you're still a blind little kid, ignorant to the wider world. But one day, you'll wake up and you'll thank me for saving you and stealing you away."

He pulled up in front of a little house. It was a stereotypical suburban house, identical to all the others on the block. He parked the car but didn't unlock the doors, taking a moment to just stare at you.

"Remember Y/N, no one likes a liar, so let's not tell any stories to anyone. Now, are you ready to be a good kid and come inside or do I have to cuff you first?"

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #platonic #yandere ocs #parental yandere

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sshnzsr · 25 days ago

Text

YOU’RE THE ONLY GOOD THING IN MY LIFE

warnings: (short) smut, heavy angst, unprotected sex, drug use and addiction, mentions of childhood trauma, grief, mentions of overdose, lmk if I missed anything

wordcount: 4.5k

masterlist

You’re late. Again. Sunghoon checks his watch a limited edition one that cost more than most people’s yearly rent. The lights of the alley across the street flickers, casting shadows on the cracked pavement.

This isn’t his world. It’s yours. A world of deals in dark corners, hushed whispers and the kind of danger that makes his skin crawl.

But he’s here. For you.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. A text from you. “Five minutes. Don’t be mad.” He scoffs, but his lips twitch into a reluctant smile. You always do this push his patience to the edge then reel him back with a single word or touch. He hates how easily you do it. Hates how much he loves it.

Five minutes stretch into ten. He leans against a lamppost, arms crossed.

Park Sunghoon, a lawyer who’s put away cartel bosses and corrupt CEOs, standing in a seedy alley for a woman who’s probably the most wanted name on half the city’s watchlists.

You’re not just a dealer. You’re the dealer. The one they can’t catch. The one who slips through every trap with a smirk and a stash no one can find. It drives the cops insane. It drives Sunghoon insane too but for entirely different reasons.

When you finally appear it’s like the air shifts. You’re in a black leather jacket, tight jeans hugging your thighs and boots that click against the pavement with every step. Your hair is messy, eyes glinting with that wild energy that makes his heart race and his fists clench. You’re trouble. Always have been. But you’re his trouble.

“Hey baby” you drawl, voice low and teasing. You stop a few feet away, hip cocked “Miss me?”

“You’re late” he says, voice clipped. He’s trying to stay composed but the way your lips curl into a knowing smile makes his pulse jump.

“Had to handle some business.” You shrug, stepping closer. The scent of your perfume something cheap and sweet mixed with something sharp like acetone hits him. It’s intoxicating in the worst way. “You gonna lecture me now? Tell me I’m bad for your reputation?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead his eyes scan you, taking in the slight flush on your cheeks, the way your pupils are just a little too wide.

You’re high. Not enough to be sloppy but enough to make his stomach twist. He hates this part of you. The part that drowns in whatever you’re using to cope with the life you’ve chosen. Or maybe the life that chose you. He’s never been sure.

“Don’t start” you say before he can open his mouth. You’re close now, close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off you. Your hand reaches out, fingers brushing the lapel of his suit jacket. “I’m here aren’t I? That’s what matters.”

“You’re not yourself when you’re like this” he says, voice low, almost a growl. He grabs your wrist, not hard but firm enough to stop your teasing touch. “I hate it.”

You tilt your head, studying him. For a moment the mask slips and he sees the real you the one who’s tired, who’s carrying a weight no one else can see. “I’m always myself with you Sunghoon” you murmur. “Even when I’m a mess.”

His grip softens but he doesn’t let go. He can’t. Not when you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground. He knows your story or at least the parts you’ve let him see. A childhood spent in shadows, no one to hold you when the world got too heavy. You’ve spent years running from that pain, building an empire out of powders and pills to fill the void. And somehow he’s become your safe place. The one you turn to when the high fades and the world crashes down.

He pulls you closer and you don’t resist. Your body fits against his like it was made to, your head tucking under his chin as you press yourself into his chest. His arms wrap around you, one hand resting at the small of your back, the other tangling in your hair. He feels you relax, your breathing slowing as you melt into him. It’s always like this. No matter how far you stray you always come back to him.

“Let’s go home” he says, voice softer now. He’s not talking about his penthouse or your dingy apartment in the underbelly of the city. He’s talking about the space you create together, where the world can’t touch you.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, eyes searching his face. “You sure you want me there? I’m not exactly… presentable tonight.”

He cups your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “I want you. Always.”

Your lips part like you’re about to argue but then you don’t. Instead you lean up and kiss him. It’s not gentle. It’s hungry, desperate, your teeth grazing his bottom lip as you press yourself closer. He groans into your mouth, hands tightening on your waist as he kisses you back with equal intensity. The alley fades away, the city’s noise drowned out by the sound of your breathing, the feel of your body against his.

You break the kiss first, panting slightly, your forehead resting against his. “Take me home Sunghoon” you whisper. “Make me forget.”

Sunghoon’s penthouse is a stark contrast to the alley you met in. Floor to ceiling windows offer a view of the city’s glittering skyline, the kind of view that makes you feel like you’re floating above the chaos. The furniture is sleek, modern, all clean lines and muted colors. It’s a world away from your life of dirty cash and burner phones. But when you’re here sprawled across his king sized bed you fit like you belong there.

He’s shedding his suit jacket as you kick off your boots, the leather jacket already discarded on the floor. You’re watching him, eyes tracking every movement as he loosens his tie and unbuttons his shirt. There’s something about seeing him like this polished and perfect but unraveling just for you that makes your blood hum.

“You’re staring” he says, a smirk playing on his lips as he tosses the tie aside.

“Can you blame me?” you shoot back, crawling across the bed toward him. Your jeans are tight, clinging to every curve and you know exactly what you’re doing when you arch your back just a little. His eyes darken, the smirk fading into something hungrier.

He’s on you in an instant, hands gripping your hips as he pulls you to the edge of the bed. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until you can feel the hard line of him through his slacks. He’s already half hard and the thought sends a thrill through you. You love that you do this to him, that you can make the “untouchable” Park Sunghoon lose control.

“Fuck you’re gonna kill me one day” he mutters against your neck, lips brushing the sensitive skin there. His hands slide under your shirt, fingers splaying across your stomach as he pushes the fabric up and over your head. You’re not wearing a bra and his breath hitches when he sees you, bare and unashamed under his gaze.

“Good” you say, voice teasing but laced with need. “At least you’ll die happy.”

He doesn’t bother with a reply. His mouth is on you, kissing a hot path down your throat to your collarbone, then lower. You arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair as he takes one nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue until you’re gasping. His hands are everywhere, rough and demanding, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

You tug at his belt, impatient and he chuckles against your skin. “Eager tonight huh?”

“Shut up and fuck me Sunghoon” you say, voice raw. You’re not in the mood for games. Not tonight. You need him to drown out the noise in your head, the weight of the deals you made earlier, the close call with a cop who got too curious. You need him to make you feel something other than the chaos.

He doesn’t make you wait. His pants hit the floor, followed by his boxers and then he’s pulling your jeans off, rough and quick, until you’re both bare. He pauses for a moment, looking down at you like he’s trying to decide where to start. You don’t give him the chance to overthink. You pull him down, kissing him hard, your nails digging into his shoulders as you wrap your legs around him again.

He enters you in one smooth thrust and you both groan at the sensation. He’s thick, stretching you in a way that’s just on the edge of too much but exactly what you need. He doesn’t move right away, letting you adjust, his forehead pressed against yours as he breathes heavily.

“You feel so fucking good” he says, voice low and rough. “Every time.”

“Move” you demand, hips rocking against him, urging him on. He does, pulling back only to thrust in again, setting a rhythm that’s hard and fast, just the way you like it. The bed creaks under you, the headboard thumping against the wall, but you don’t care. All you can focus on is him the way he fills you, the way his hands grip your thighs, the way his eyes lock onto yours like you’re the only thing that matters.

You’re loud, unapologetic, moaning his name as he fucks you deeper, harder. He loves it when you’re like this raw and open, no walls between you. His hand slides between your bodies, finding your clit, and you cry out as he works you with skilled fingers, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Sunghoon fuck don’t stop” you gasp, nails raking down his back. You’re close, so close and he knows it. He always knows.

“Come for me” he says, voice a low command that sends shivers through you. “Let go.”

And you do. The orgasm hits hard, your vision blurring as pleasure crashes over you in waves. You clench around him, pulling him deeper and he follows you over the edge with a guttural moan, his thrusts stuttering as he spills inside you. For a moment you’re both still, panting, tangled together in a mess of limbs and sweat.

He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. You go willingly, curling into his chest, your breathing still uneven. His heartbeat is steady under your cheek, grounding you. This is what you chase every time the safety of his arms, the way he holds you like you’re something precious, not a criminal with a rap sheet longer than his case files.

“I love you” he says quietly, lips brushing your temple. “No matter what.”

You don’t say it back. You never do. But you press yourself closer, letting his warmth seep into you, chasing away the cold that lingers in your bones. For now it’s enough. For now you’re his and he’s yours and the world outside can wait.

You wake with a gasp, heart pounding so hard it hurts. The room is dark, the only light coming from the city’s glow seeping through the curtains. Sunghoon’s penthouse. You’re in his bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, your skin slick with sweat. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, but the dream clings to you, its claws sunk deep. The tears come before you can stop them, hot and silent, streaming down your face as you curl into yourself.

Sunghoon stirs beside you, his arm instinctively reaching for you even in sleep. His hand finds your shoulder and you flinch, the touch too much too soon. His eyes snap open, instantly alert and he’s sitting up in a heartbeat, the sheet falling away from his bare chest. “Hey” he says, voice soft but urgent. “What’s wrong?”

You can’t speak. The words are trapped behind the lump in your throat, the weight of the nightmare still pressing down on you. Instead you turn into him, burying your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. His arms wrap around you, strong and steady, pulling you close as he murmurs your name like a prayer. “I’ve got you” he says, one hand stroking your hair, the other resting at the small of your back. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

You cling to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to ground yourself in his warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

He doesn’t push you to talk, doesn’t ask questions you can’t answer. He just holds you, his lips brushing your temple, your hair, anywhere he can reach. It’s the kind of comfort you never had as a kid, the kind you didn’t know you needed until he gave it to you. And it breaks you open, makes the tears come harder, because you don’t deserve this don’t deserve him but you’re too selfish to let him go.

“I’m sorry” you choke out, voice muffled against his chest. “I’m so fucked up.”

“Shh” he soothes, tightening his hold. “You’re not. You’re here. That’s enough.”

You don’t believe him, but you want to. You want to believe that you’re more than the sum of your scars, more than the deals you’ve made and the lines you’ve crossed. In his arms it feels possible, like you could be someone else someone whole. But the nightmare, the trauma is still there, lurking in the corners of your mind, whispering that you’ll never outrun who you are.

This time Sunghoon wakes with a jolt, the bed cold beneath his hand where you should be.

The room is dark, the city’s glow filtering through the curtains, but it’s too quiet. Your absence hits him like a punch to the gut. He sits up, heart racing, scanning the shadows for any sign of you. Your jacket is gone from the floor, your boots missing. His stomach drops.

He grabs his phone from the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a notification. A text from you, sent twenty minutes ago. “I’m sorry. I’ll do it again. I’m so sorry.” The words twist like a knife in his chest. He knows what this means. You’ve run back to the one thing he begged you not to touch. He’s out of bed in seconds, pulling on a shirt and jeans, not bothering with anything else. His keys are in his hand before he’s fully awake, the fear driving him forward.

The drive to your apartment is a blur. City’s streets are quiet at this hour, the neon signs flickering like warnings. Your place is in a part of the city he hates, all cracked sidewalks and boarded up shops, the kind of place where eyes watch from every shadow. He parks haphazardly, not caring about the lines, and takes the stairs to your third floor walk up two at a time. The hallway smells like mildew and burnt plastic and he bangs on your door, the sound echoing in the empty corridor.

No answer.

He tries the knob and it’s unlocked. That alone makes his blood run cold. You never leave your door unlocked.

Not you, the woman who trusts no one, who carries a switchblade in her pocket and knows how to use it.

He pushes the door open, heart in his throat. The apartment is a mess. Empty bottles clutter the counter, a halfeaten takeout container sits on the coffee table and the air is thick with the acrid scent of something chemical. He finds you in the living room, sitting cross legged on the floor by the window, staring out at the city like it’s a painting. The streetlights cast a sickly glow across your face and when you turn to look at him, his breath catches.

You don’t look like you. Your eyes are wide, pupils blown so large there’s barely any color left. Your smile is wrong, too bright, too vacant, like a doll’s. You’re wearing an oversized tshirt, one of his, the hem frayed and slipping off one shoulder. Your hair is tangled, sticking to your sweaty forehead. You look fragile, like a porcelain figure teetering on the edge of a shelf and it scares the shit out of him.

“Sunghoon!” you say, voice high and childlike, nothing like the sultry drawl he’s used to. You clap your hands together, the motion clumsy, like you’re not sure how your body works. “You came! Look, the lights are so pretty tonight. Like stars, but closer.”

He crosses the room in three strides, kneeling in front of you, his hands hovering over your shoulders like he’s afraid you’ll break if he touches you. “What did you take?” he asks, voice tight, trying to keep the panic at bay. “Tell me.”

You tilt your head, still smiling, like he’s asked you about the weather. “Just a little something. Makes everything soft. No edges, you know? No bad dreams.” You giggle, but it’s wrong, too high, too brittle. “You’re so serious all the time. Relax, baby.”

He grabs your face gently, forcing you to meet his eyes. “This isn’t you. What was it? Tell me so I can help you.”

Your smile falters, just for a second, and something flickers in your eyes fear, maybe, or shame. But then it’s gone, swallowed by that eerie blankness. “I don’t know” you say, shrugging like it’s nothing. “Found it in a stash. New guy brought it. Said it’s better than the usual. And it is! I feel… new. Like a baby. Everything’s so big and shiny.”

His heart sinks. Something stronger than your usual. He knows what that means. You’ve always been careful, in your own reckless way, sticking to what you know, what you can control. But this this is different. He can see it in the way your hands tremble despite your smile, the way your breathing is too shallow, too fast. He’s seen enough overdose cases in court to know the signs and the thought of you slipping away like this makes him want to scream.

“Stay with me” he says, voice low, urgent. He pulls you to your feet, and you sway, giggling again as you lean into him. He steadies you, one arm around your waist, the other cupping your face. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You blink up at him, slow and dazed, like you’re trying to process his words. “You’re always so good to me” you mumble, your voice slurring now. “Why’re you so good? I’m… I’m not good. I’m bad. So bad.”

“You’re not bad” he says, the words fierce, almost a growl. “You’re just lost sometimes. But I’m here. I’m not letting you go.”

He guides you to the couch, sitting you down as he grabs his phone, dialing the one person he trusts to handle this without calling the cops. His friend Heeseung, a doctor who owes him a favor from a case last year. “I need you here now” he says when Heeseung picks up, giving the address. “Overdose risk. Bring what you need. Hurry.”

You’re humming now, a tuneless little melody, your head lolling against the couch. He kneels in front of you again, taking your hands in his. They’re clammy, too cold and he rubs them between his own, trying to warm you up. “Look at me” he says and you do, but your eyes are unfocused, like you’re seeing through him. “You’re gonna be fine. Just stay with me.”

You giggle again, but it turns into a cough, your body shuddering. “I’m sorry” you whisper, the words barely audible. “I didn’t mean to… I just wanted it to stop. The dreams. The noise.”

“I know” he says, his throat tight. He pulls you into his lap, cradling you like a child, his arms tight around you. “I know baby. I’m here.”

You curl into him, your body small and fragile in a way he’s never seen before. Your breathing is uneven and he can feel your heart racing against his chest. He’s terrified, more than he’s ever been in his life, but he keeps his voice steady, murmuring reassurances against your hair. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. Just hold on.”

Heeseung arrives ten minutes later, a black bag in hand, his face grim as he takes in the scene. “What’d she take?” he asks, already pulling out a stethoscope and a vial of something Sunghoon doesn’t recognize.

“Don’t know” Sunghoon says, his voice cracking. “Something new. Stronger than her usual. She’s been like this since I got here.”

Heeseung works fast, checking your pulse, your pupils, asking questions Sunghoon can’t answer. He administers something through a syringe, talking in low calm tones about counteracting the effects, watching for signs of worse. Sunghoon doesn’t let go of you, his hand stroking your back as you cling to him, your earlier giggles replaced by soft whimpers.

“She’s stable for now” Heeseung says after what feels like an eternity. “But she needs to be monitored. If she took what I think she did, she’s lucky you got here when you did.”

Sunghoon nods, his jaw tight. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. All he can do is hold you, his lips pressed to your forehead, as Heeseung packs up and promises to check in later. The apartment is quiet again, just the sound of your shallow breaths and the distant hum of the city.

“I love you” he whispers, not sure if you can hear him. “Don’t do this again. Please.”

You don’t respond, but your fingers curl weakly into his shirt, and it’s enough. For now, it’s enough.

Sunghoon wakes with a gasp, his chest tight, the remnants of the dream clinging to him like damp cloth. His heart pounds, the images vivid: you in his arms, your vacant smile, your trembling hands. It felt so real, every touch, every word, every tear. But as his eyes adjust to the dim light of his penthouse, the truth crashes down.

You’re not here. You haven’t been for months.

He sits up, the sheets cold against his skin, his hands shaking as he drags them through his hair. The clock on the nightstand reads 5:47 AM, the city outside still cloaked in predawn gray. His throat burns, and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to push away the dream, the memory, the ache of you. But it’s no use. You’re everywhere in his bed, in his mind, in the empty space beside him where you used to sleep.

It wasn’t real. Not this time. But it was real once all of it. The late night meetings in alleys, the way you’d melt into his arms, the nights of passion that left you both breathless, the fights over your addiction, the way you’d cling to him when the nightmares came. And that final night, the one he can’t escape, when he found you too late, your body still on the floor, the light gone from your eyes. The dream stitched it all together, a cruel tapestry of everything he loved and lost.

He forces himself out of bed, the weight of it too much to bear. He moves mechanically, splashing cold water on his face, pulling on a black sweater and slacks, his movements precise but empty. The mirror shows a man he barely recognizes. Hollow cheeks, dark circles under his eyes, a jawline too sharp from months of barely eating. He looks like a ghost, and maybe he is. Part of him died with you.

The drive to the cemetery is quiet, the city waking up around him, oblivious to the hole in his chest. He stops at a florist on the way, picking up a small bouquet of white lilies, your favorite. The woman behind the counter gives him a pitying look, recognizing him from his weekly visits. He doesn’t meet her eyes.

The cemetery is a quiet place where the noise of the city fades into birdsongs and the rustle of leaves. Your grave is toward the back, under a cherry blossom tree that’s bare now, its petals long gone. The headstone is simple, just your name and dates, too short a span for someone who burned so brightly. He kneels, placing the lilies at the base, his fingers lingering on the cool stone.

“Hey” he says, voice rough, barely above a whisper. “It’s me.”

The wind picks up, stirring the air, and he imagines it’s you answering, your teasing drawl calling him lawyer boy. He closes his eyes, letting the memory wash over him. “I had a dream about you last night” he says, his voice steadier now. “Felt so real I thought… I thought you were back. Thought I could save you this time.”

He laughs, a bitter sound that catches in his throat. “Stupid right? I couldn’t save you then. Can’t save you now. But I keep trying. Every fucking night I try.”

He traces the letters of your name, the stone smooth under his fingertips. “You said you didn’t mean to go that far. I wanted to believe you. I still do. But you left me anyway.”

His voice breaks and he presses his forehead against the headstone, the cold grounding him. “I should’ve done more. Should’ve locked you in my apartment, dragged you to rehab, anything. I should’ve fought harder. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

The tears come then, quiet and steady, dripping onto the grass. He doesn’t wipe them away. He lets them fall, lets the grief spill out, because here, with you, he doesn’t have to be the untouchable person he usually is. He’s just Sunghoon, the man who loved you, who still loves you, even when you’re nothing but a name on a stone.

“I miss you” he says, the words raw, like they’re being ripped from his chest. “Every day. Every second. I don’t know how to do this without you. I don’t want to.”

He sits there for a long time, until the sun rises higher, casting long shadows across the cemetery. The lilies glow in the light, their petals soft against the gray stone. He imagines you smiling, not the vacant smile from his dream but the real one, the one that made his heart skip, the one that promised trouble and love in equal measure.

“I love you” he says, one last time, his voice steady now. “Always will.”

He stands, brushing the dirt from his knees, and takes a deep breath. The world keeps turning, and he has to keep moving with it, even if every step feels like a betrayal. He glances back at your grave, the lilies a small piece of him left behind and walks away, carrying you with him in the only way he can in his heart.

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