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appocalipse · 6 months

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that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't—what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months

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mille-fuelle (idk how the fuck to spell it) with a side of vodka shot pls! make it verstappen pls!

the bakery menu!

there is still tons of sweet treats on the menu at the bakery! submit your own order!

mill-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + vodka shot (rough sex) served to you by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, rough sex, praise kink, (loosely) translated dutch, handcuffs/bondage, (low) doggy style, (slight) dom/sub

the off season was tiring. despite it being the off season. most used it as a chance to catch up on much needed sleep or go on a vacation. some even just laid in bed for the first week of the off-season to just relax.

you and max had different plans.

after the first week of the off season, max had turned of his phone and put it on the dining table, to be left there for a day or two. you did the same, telling your friends and family that you and max were going on a boat trip for a few days.

you didn't want anyone to worry, especially when you knew that you'd be limping by the end of your little escapade. sparse visits over the year have left you both painfully pent up, it felt like over the season the only time you two saw one another was for cute photo-ops, there was very little room for intimacy between your career and his. so the off-season, nothing else mattered except for scratching that itch.

max made sure that you got a meal in you, he wasn't going to neglect your needs because he needed to get his cock wet. he even took the lead and made you breakfast (he really did miss you). While the eggs were perfect, the bacon was a little more crispy than you liked it.

"it's amazing." you giggled as you took another bite. max lingered against you like a shadow, his arm slung around you as he kissed at your neck a little. you turned your head to look at him and he kissed you on the lips.

"i'm excited."

you reached to him and cupped his face, then looked into his blue eyes, "well, hold your horses, i have a surprise for you." and then let go of him so you could quickly finish.

you didn't see max's curious expression at the surprise you had for him. he still followed you while you cleaned up, those large hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. you could feel his clothed erection up against your backside,

"so what's the surprise?" he asked as he held you as you put the plate in the drying rack.

you looked over your shoulder and leaned in to kiss him, then said, "surprise, verstappen." once you were done cleaning up, he followed you into the bedroom.

you apologized to the cats as you closed the door to the room. you could tell that max was getting antsy, why wouldn't he be? he had another stellar season but at the cost of being away from his woman.

"mooi meisje, waarom laat je me wachten?" he asked softly as he sat on the bed you two shared. his cock was pressed against the front of his loose shorts.

you turned away from him and went to your underwear drawer, as you dug around in it you responded, "omdat sommige verrassingen de moeite waard zijn om geheim te houden."

he sighed through his nose, his cock throbbed in his pants. dutch may not be the most sensual language, but he cursed the day that he decided to painstakingly teach you the language. it was almost like second nature to you, and it made his heart beat faster. he leaned back on his hands and watched you pull out a pair of Velcro wrist restraints.

using handcuffs seemed a little cliche, and the idea of losing the key and having to figure out how to get max out of them wasn't something you were interested in. they were softer around the wrists and easier to get out of.

"liefde?" he asked with a bit of concern.

you approached him and placed them in his lap, "if you don't want to try it, then say it. if you want to, tell me." you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

his face felt hot as he said, "i'm guessing you're wearing them?"

you smiled, "next time you can wear them." and could feel your boyfriend's burning gaze as you got out of your sleeping clothes. which was honestly just a ratty red bull t-shirt and slightly too big sleeping shorts. your sports bra and panties were off as well and when you looked at max once more, he had his shirt off and his cock in his hand. his shorts were pushed down and his gaze was heavy.

"you look good." he said, his words heavy on his tongue.

you came of and straddled his waist for a moment, his cock brushed against your pussy but you never sank down on it. you could see his jaw tense.

you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a tender kiss. you felt his hands on your hips, he was threatening to pull you right down on his cock. the kiss quickly parted and you got up from his lap and onto the bed. max was close to you once more with teh cuffs in hand.

"i guess we need a safe word."

you were already one step ahead, "red bull."

he got you onto your hands and knees on the bed and slowly got your arms behind your back. it was then secured by the cuffs. max could've lost it in that moment, the site of you was erotic. his naked girlfriend with her arms tied behind her back. he couldn't wait any longer, it was driving him up the wall.

he got his shorts full off and his hand on your hip. it wasn't hard for him to sink his entire length into your aching cunt. he held the chain that connected both of the cuffs to the center of your back, you weren't going anywhere.

you groaned when you felt his cock deep in your cunt, the stretch was amazing. while it left you a little tender for days after, it was the type of ache that stirred your stomach.

the sex was rough, there was little tenderness. and max at least tried to be romantic when he pleasured you, but this carnal need was driving both of you. your heart thumped in your chest, the rush of pleasure made your head throb.

his pace was quick and feral, his grip was tight on you. he wanted to make sure you didn't go slipping away. as if you ever would. he ran his fingers through his hair while he still held you down. he could feel the sweat on his body begin to form as the bedroom became hotter.

the morning light shined through the open window as the two of you fucked with a hot passion. it felt like striking hot iron with the sparks that scattered as a result.

"that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl." he panted heavily in your ear as he kissed your temple. you moaned in response and he pressed his nose into your hairline for a moment as he had you practically bouncing on his cock.

you whined, "shit, max, ah!" each thrust felt like a short circuit to your brain. his words were filthy, his voice was hot and low. you could feel him rearrange your guts.

the bed creaked against the wall and you felt the air leave your lungs. sometimes it drove you crazy how intensely max's cock made you feel. before sex was just a fun past time with a partner, but with max is made you ache inside and out.

he rutted up into you, his cock gave a small twitch inside of you. he could hear you sweet little pants and moans into the covers. you looked like a fucking dream, his beautiful girl.

"you're so good for me, my love." he groaned, "you feel so fucking tight around me and i don't know what to do with myself. you drive me mad. i want you all the time." he panted heavily, "it was all i could think of during the races, your tight pussy around my cock. i always wondered if i could get you to fit in the car with me, bounce you on the my cock while the engine rumbled. you'd like that, wouldn't you, slet."

you swallowed, while the idea was probably unrealistic, the thought of it was rather erotic. the almost claustrophobia of being so close to him in a tight space.

you didn't have to respond for him to say, 'i know you'd hate it, right? because you're my good right, correct?"

you nodded and moaned a little louder as you felt the thrill of lust climb through your body. you squirmed under the restraints, it was a little bit of tension on your shoulders but it did make you core ache. you panted dumbly against the covers as he fucked you with a heavy heat.

"pretty fucking little thing." he growled as he pushed your top half further into the soft mattress. the angle gave him the best place to cram his heavy cock into your sweet cunt.

you felt the moans fold off your tongue as you felt the pleasure capture you whole and climax crashed down on you. it felt like your earth was shattered when it grabbed hold. you whined, "holy shit, max."

he chuckled and felt the wetness between your legs only grow more, he doubled down his thrusts and left you totally pinned under him. he rutted into you like an animal in heat, even as your pathetic little moans rang in his ear.

"honey, ah. that's a good girl. fuck you're mine." he groaned as he bottomed out into you. his cock nudged against your cervix and spat cum against it. while made your back arch.

"fuck." you panted.

he pulled out and quickly, without much through took off the cuffs. he took you in his arms and laid down beside you, spooning you. his larges hands massaged your wrists. even though they didn't hurt.

he peppered the back of your neck with kisses. so loving, so kind despite how rough he was moments earlier. max worshiped you, praised you like the sun.

"my beautiful girl." he sighed contently.

"the cuffs felt good." you responded, your legs tangled in his.

he kissed under your ear and said quietly in your ear, "maybe next time i need to tie you up fully." he chuckled a little as he held you in his arms.

it was good to be home. <3

#bunny writes #the bakery #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one smut #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #max smut #max verstappen x you

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 2 months

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jude x famous!reader(or normal!reader) . Where him and and reader have been together since they were young (like 16/17) and she is really close jude family, like close with jobe and Denise. thank youuuuuu💕

Family

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Jude is late to your graduation but at least Denise and Jobe are there.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.0k

Warnings! FLUFF, sweetness, Denise is the mom, Jobe being his adorable self as usual, nervous reader, smart reader, graduation, A surprise at the end.

Your hands were shaking, breathing uneven as you stared at the sea of people in front of you. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, you were so nervous that you couldn't focus on anything else but your own fear and panic.

"Hey," a voice said, cutting through your anxious, spiraling thoughts. "Hey, look at me."

You look up to see Jobe in front of you. His eyes, the same warm brown as Jude's, were wide open as he stared at you, his hand reaching for your face. He cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze on his own. "Calm down," he told you softly. "Breathe. I'm here. Dad's here, Mom's here, Jude'll be here soon. You're going to kill it out there, I know you will."

You nodded, trying to breathe. You felt Denise's hands on your shoulders, her fingers digging into your skin as she rubbed them in a soothing way. "We're proud of you, sweetheart, so proud of you," she murmured as you tried to calm down.

Jobe leaned down and pressed his lips against your forehead, giving you a quick kiss before he pulled back. "I love you," he said softly.

You smiled, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "I love you too," you said.

Denise pulled you in for a hug, holding you close as Jobe did the same. You hugged them both back, feeling your heart slow down. You were so grateful for them being here. Thankful to these people who had been your rock for the last four years.

You met Jude in high school, when you were sixteen, and he was seventeen. It was a rocky start, with you guys constantly arguing and trying to one up each other, but soon enough, you both found yourselves falling for one another. His family welcomed you with open arms, his mother and younger brother being especially nice to you.

Growing up in an orphanage, you didn't have anyone to rely on. And after you were kicked out at eighteen, all you had was them, and they took you in, welcoming you into their family like you had always been a part of it. Jude promised you that they would take care of you.

And he was right.

Denise, had always been like a mother to you. She was the one who helped you with your hair before a date, who cooked you meals when you were sick, and who would listen to you vent about Jude. She was there when you got your first job. There when you felt like the world was crumbling around you. Always offering a shoulder to cry on. She loved you like you were her own. The daughter she always wanted.

Mark had taken his role as your sole father figure. He wasn't the kind of man to shower you with affection through words, but his actions spoke volumes. He'd silently slip money into your wallet when he knew you were struggling, or stay up late to help you study for an exam. He was the one who'd taught you to change a tire, who'd cheered the loudest at your high school graduation. When you doubted yourself, he'd remind you of your strength with a simple nod, as if to say, "You got this."

Jobe, on the other hand, had become the brother you never had. He was fifteen when you met, the sweetest boy. You'd always been like an older sister to him, looking out for him whenever you could and being there for him when he needed someone. Him too. He was always there with a joke to lift your spirits. Listened to you when you needed to talk. And was fiercely protective. Your true partner in crime.

And then there was Jude.

Your soul mate. Your first everything. The person you fell in love with. Your forever. Your best friend. You guys were inseparable, from the day you met. He had been your rock for the last four years. Your guiding light. He made your life better, made you better.

He had seen you at your best and at your worst, and loved you through it all. He was the one who held you close on sleepless nights, whispering words of comfort and love. He was the one who believed in you, even when you didn't believe in yourself. He was your rock, your anchor, the love of your life.

Now, after four years together, Jude was still your boyfriend, and his parents and brother were like family to you.

And they'd come to support you at the biggest moment.

You had just finished your last year of college, graduating with honors at the age of twenty. A year early. You were still freaking out over the fact that you had gotten out of college a year early. And now you were here, ready to accept the award as valedictorian and give a speech.

It was a huge honor and a dream come true, and you were so lucky that the people you loved were there to watch it happen. But you were scared. Terrified that you would mess up, say something stupid, fall on your ass on stage. That everyone would hate your speech and think you didn't deserve to be there.

But Mark, Denise and Jobe were here for you. And soon so would Jude.

You pulled away from Denise and Jobe, taking a deep breath. "When did Jude say he was going to get here again?" You asked.

"He said he'd be here an hour ago, but that he might be late," Jobe replied.

You nodded, feeling a sense of disappointment. You'd really wanted Jude to be here to see you walk on stage, but whatever he's doing must be important. So you couldn't be mad at him for it. He has never let you down since you've known him and you knew he wouldn't let you down now.

"Okay," you said.

A voice cut through the noise backstage, someone telling you it was time to go on stage. "Oh my god," you breathed, your nerves coming back again.

Denise reached out and took your hand, pulling you in for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "We'll be out there in the front row," she said. "Go get them, baby."

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. Your mouth was dry and your hands were sweaty. You felt like you were going to puke at any moment.

You force out a smile. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the lump in your throat. "I love you both."

"We love you too, honey," Denise said.

Jobe gave you a thumbs up. "Kick ass out there," he said as you hugged them both again before they left.

"You can do this Y/N." you mutter to yourself. You took a few deep breaths, trying to get your nerves under control. You had a few more minutes to spare before you went out there so you took the opportunity to calm yourself down.

You did this, you reminded yourself. You'd done the hard work, and this was your reward. You deserved to be here.

You thought back to when you first walked into the university four years ago. You'd been scared and unsure if you belonged, but you knew that you wanted to make something of your life. And you were here now, standing backstage with a degree secured. You'd made it. You'd actually done it.

A loud voice cut through your thoughts and you looked up to see one of the event planners standing next to you. "Ready?" she asked.

You nodded, letting out a breath as she gestured for you to walk out on stage. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were sweating. You felt dizzy. This was it, the moment of truth.

The crowd was quiet as you stepped out, a smile on your face, your eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. And then you saw them.

Denise, Mark, Jobe and Jude were sitting in the front row. Jobe and Mark were smiling at you, beaming with pride. They both held signs saying 'Congratulations' and 'We're so proud of you'. Denise was crying, her eyes red rimmed.

Jude was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes shining with pride. He was wearing a button down shirt and dress pants, looking handsome. You smiled back at him, feeling your heart swell with love for this man.

He mouthed the words 'I love you' and you mouthed them back.

The announcer spoke your name and you walked up the steps to receive your award. You took it with shaking hands, mouthing 'thank you' to the presenter.

You moved the microphone to stand in front of the crowd. You were used to public speaking, and had practiced your speech countless times, but you were still nervous.

"Thank you," you said, trying to control your breath. "Thank you to everyone here today. To my classmates, my professors, and my family."

You glanced at Jude, Denise and Mark. "Without them I wouldn't be here," you said. "I want to thank them for their unwavering support and love. Without them I'd be lost." You paused, trying not to cry.

"To the class of 2024 who are graduating," you continued. "We made it. Congratulations to all of us for getting through these four years. And for those who didn't make it, who failed a class or two, who had to retake an exam. For those who are struggling, for those who are feeling lost."

You took a breath, looking at Jude who was smiling at you, his eyes warm. "It's okay to be lost," you said. "To fail. To struggle. It's okay not to have your shit together. Because you will get through this, I promise. Most of you may not know me personally, but if there's one thing I've learned in these past four years, it's that the journey is just as important as the destination. Every setback, every tear, every moment of doubt has shaped us into who we are today. We've faced challenges head-on, and we've come out stronger on the other side."

You paused, allowing the words to sink in, feeling the weight of their truth. The audience was silent, hanging on to your every word.

"I stand here today not just as a graduate, but as someone who has learned to embrace the unknown. To those who are scared of what's next, who feel the pressure of expectations weighing them down, know that it's okay to take your time. It's okay to find your own path, even if it's different from what you planned. Life is full of surprises, and sometimes the best things come from the unexpected."

Your eyes swept the crowd, meeting Jude's gaze once more. He winks at you making you smile.

"We've all had people who supported us, who believed in us when we didn't believe in ourselves. For me, that has been my family—Denise, Mark, Jobe, and Jude. They have been my rock, my anchor, and my greatest cheerleaders. To them, I owe everything."

You took a deep breath, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "And to Jude, my love, my best friend, thank you for standing by me through everything. Your belief in me has been my strength, and your love has been my guide. I am so grateful for you."

A tear slid down your cheek, but you smiled through it.

"As we go forward from here, let's carry with us the lessons we've learned, the friendships we've made, and the memories we've created. Let's be kind to ourselves and to others. Let's chase our dreams with passion and perseverance. And let's never forget that we are capable of more than we ever imagined."

The crowd erupted in applause as you held up your diploma, bursting with joy. Happy that you were done with your speech and that it hadn't gone that bad.

Looking to the crowd again, you saw that Jude was missing from his seat. You frowned, wondering what was going on. Before you could think too much about it, the crowd's applause shifted into cheers, looking at the other side of the stage. You followed their gaze and felt your heart skip a beat.

There he was, walking towards you with a determined yet nervous look on his face. Jude Bellingham.

You could hear the murmurs of astonishement all around you wondering what Jude Bellingham was doing at a college graduation.

"Jude?" You whispered, unable to form words.

You felt the heat of his hand on your back as he moved to stand next to you, silently handing you the bouquet. You were so stunned that you forgot where you were, until you heard the laughter and the gasps of the crowd. You turned to see the Dean and everyone else staring at you, their faces shocked and confused.

"Oh my god," you whispered, feeling your face burn red with embarrassment. But before you could ask what he was doing he took the microphone from the announcer, his hands trembling slightly, cleared his throat and turn his face towards the crowd.

"Sorry for the interruption everyone," his voice was shaky, uncertain. "But I've been waiting for a moment to ask this question for years. And there's no better time than now." What is going on? you thought to yourself.

He looked at you, his eyes pouring out nervousness, and took a deep breath before speaking. "Y/N," he began, his deep voice echoing through the auditorium. "From the moment I met you," he continued. "I knew you were special. That you were meant to be mine." Tears were streaming down your face at this point. Your hands covering your mouth, unable to believe what was happening. You were going to die from happiness.

The audience fell silent, hanging on his every word. Jude continued, his voice steadying as he spoke from his heart. "And over the past four years, I've fallen more and more in love with you, every single day. You've challenged me, supported me, and loved me in ways I never thought possible."

He paused, taking a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I had a better speech prepared, but standing here, all I can think about is how much I love you and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you." The crowd gasped, and you felt your heart race, your breath catching in your throat.

He dropped to his knees and you almost passed out. Is he doing what you think he is doing? Oh god, please be real.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "Will you marry me?" He held out a small black box, his eyes shining with tears. "I love you," he said, his voice cracking.

Tears were streaming down your face at this point and you could hardly breathe. Looking out into the crowd you spotted Denise and Jobe crying. Mark was grinning from ear to ear.

The crowd's reaction faded into the background as you stared at Jude, his eyes full of hope and love. You looked at the diamond ring in his hand, at the way it sparkled in the light. At the man who'd become your soul mate.

You didn't hesitate. With a sob, you nodded, tears streaming down your face as he slid the ring onto your finger. He stood up, pulling you into his arms as you wrapped your hands around his neck, holding him close.

This couldn't be real, you thought. There was no way this was real. You were dreaming. You had to be.

And then you felt it. The cool metal on your finger, fitting perfectly as if it had been made for you. It was. You looked down at it, seeing the diamond ring sparkle in the light. You gasped, tears streaming down your face.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause again, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you. The world seemed to blur, and it felt like it was just you and Jude in that moment. You clung to him, your heart pounding with disbelief.

"I can't believe this," you whispered into his ear, your voice trembling. "Is this really happening?"

Jude pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. "Yes," he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. "This is real. We’re real."

"I love you so much," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the commotion around you. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gazed into Jude's soft brown eyes, melting with love for you.

"I love you too, Y/N," Jude whispered back. He kissed your forehead gently, squeezing you tighter agaisnt his body leaving no space between you two. "I've been waiting to do this for so long."

You chuckled softly through your tears, overwhelmed by the surrealness of the proposal. "I can't believe you did this, When did you plan this?" you managed to say, still in disbelief as you looked down at the ring on your finger.

But you knew that it was real, that this was happening. Because he had done it in the most Jude Bellingham way possible, proposing to you in front of everyone in the world. You could feel the cameras on, you hear the clicks.

This would be all over the news.

Jude pulled back slightly, a smile on his face. "A couple months ago," he said sheepishly. "I wanted to surprise you,"

"Oh my god, you did," you laughed through your tears. You leaned into him, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

"I can't wait for you to be my wife," Jude whispered, his warm breath against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You looked up at him, leaning closer so your lips were brushing. "I can't wait either," you whispered back before pressing your lips against his in a sweet, tender kiss.

-Bianca🌻

#footballer x reader #football #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude x reader #jude x you #jb5 #bellingham

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owliellder · 1 year

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

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oceandolores · 2 months

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 2

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦,"

summary: as time progressed, Joel notice something's wrong and then at one night, You stood at his door, looking disheveled and distressed, your face streaked with tears and your clothes rumpled.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 2

masterlist of the series!

previous | chapter one

next | chapter three

Saturday arrived with a sense of dread you couldn’t shake. The dinner invitation at Tommy and Maria's hung over your head like a dark cloud. Joel had decided to come, partly due to Ellie and Tommy's insistence, and also because it was a chance to catch up with your family, the Gibsons.

The aftermath of last Sunday's beating from your father for abandoning your duty at church service had left you changed. The light in your eyes had dimmed, replaced by a quiet resilience. Your body was still sore, the bruises and scars not fully healed, making even the simplest movements painful.

You worried some of the wounds might be infected, as you had been running a high fever and coughing for days. Your mother was concerned but too scared to take you to the hospital. In this small town, everyone knew each other, and a trip to the doctor would raise questions. Your family's reputation, especially with your father being the town preacher, was paramount. So, your mother did her best to care for you at home, but it wasn't enough.

You still went to school, hiding your condition under oversized sweaters. You had no close friends, just a few acquaintances, but you were well-known as one of the prettiest girls and the preacher's daughter. Boys liked you, always trying to get close, but you kept your distance. One day at school, Ellie noticed you didn't look well and asked if you were sick. You lied, saying you were fine.

"You sure? You don't look so good," Ellie said, her eyes filled with concern.

"I'm fine, Ellie, really. Just tired from studying for finals," you replied, forcing a smile.

Ellie frowned, clearly unconvinced. "If you say so. Just... take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will," you promised, though you weren't sure if it was a promise you could keep.

As one of the smartest students, your teachers noticed your decline and sent you to the school's psychologist. The psychologist observed your physical and mental changes, but you lied again, blaming sleepless nights spent preparing for graduation.

As your family prepared to go to the Millers, you told your mother you might not be able to go because your body was still sore. The scars hadn't healed, and you worried about infection. You'd had a high fever for days.

"Mama, I don't think I can go tonight. My body still hurts so much," you said, your voice weak.

Your mother, worried but too afraid to confront your father, insisted you come. "You know your father will be angry if you don't come. It's better if you come, even if you're not feeling well," she said, her voice trembling.

Reluctantly, you agreed. For the first time in a while, you applied makeup to cover the bruises on your skin, arms, and the corners of your eyes and cheeks. Your father reminded you to behave, to maintain decorum as a preacher's daughter, and not to embarrass him.

"Remember, you represent this family. Behave yourself and don't cause any trouble," your father said sternly.

"Yes, Father," you replied, obedient as always, though the words felt heavy on your tongue. The weight of his expectations bore down on you, threatening to crush the fragile strength you had left.

At Tommy and Maria's house, Joel and Ellie were already there. Your family arrived at their front door, your mother's grip on the pasta dish tightening as if it were a lifeline.

Maria opened the door with a warm smile, her eyes lighting up at the sight of your family. "Oh, Evelyn! Father Gibson! It's so good to see you all. Come in, come in!"

Your mother returned the smile, albeit a bit strained. "Thank you, Maria. We brought some pasta for adding some to the dishes."

"Oh, Evelyn, this pasta looks amazing. Thank you so much," Maria said, taking the dish and placing a gentle hand on your mother's arm. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," your mother replied, her voice soft. "It's the least we could do."

Maria led you all inside, the house filled with the comforting aroma of home-cooked food. You stepped in and immediately met Ellie.

"Hey, how are you? You didn't look so good at school the other day," she said, her voice full of concern.

"I'm okay, just a bit under the weather," you lied, trying to sound convincing.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ellie asked again, her eyes narrowing with worry. "You really didn't look well. Are you getting enough rest?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying for finals."

Ellie wasn't convinced but nodded. "Alright, but if you need anything, just let me know, okay? We can study together if that helps."

"Thank you, Ellie. I appreciate it," you said, grateful for her concern but knowing you had to keep your secrets hidden.

Maria, finishing her conversation with your mother, turned her attention to you. "Sweetheart, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling alright?"

In front of your parents, you forced another smile. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired," you said, your voice steady but hollow.

Your mother quickly added to the lie, her voice filled with false cheerfulness. "Oh, you know Maria. She's almost graduate and been working so hard on her studies. It's just stress, really, right honey?" You nodded to your mother.

Your father, ever the manipulator, chimed in with a practiced smile. "She's fine, just been studying hard for her finals. Nothing to worry about."

Maria looked unconvinced but didn't press further. It was just another sad reminder of the facade your family maintained, the preacher's household hiding its cracks beneath a veneer of perfection.

You moved further into the house, your father's charm offensive continuing as he greeted Tommy. "Tommy, good to see you! How's everything going?"

"Going well, Tony. Just keeping busy with the business and this little guy," Tommy said, gesturing to his newborn son, Luke.

"He's adorable," you said, managing a genuine smile as you looked at the baby. For a moment, the weight on your shoulders lightened.

"Thank you," Tommy said proudly. "He's a handful, but we're loving every minute."

As you continued to mingle, you felt Joel's eyes on you. He was helping Tommy with the food, but his concern was palpable. He approached you, his expression serious.

You smiled at Joel, remembering the last time you interacted with him by the lake. That memory was a rare bright spot amidst the pain your father had caused after it.

"Hey, Joel. Good to see you here," you said, wondering why he decided to come. You tried to lighten the mood, despite the pain radiating through your body with every movement. The fabric of your clothes rubbed against your skin, irritating the unhealed scars, but you did your best to endure it.

"Ellie and Tommy wouldn't take no for an answer," Joel replied, his tone a mix of annoyance and warmth.

You chuckled softly, though the motion sent a sharp pain through your ribs. "They can be pretty persuasive."

Joel's eyes softened slightly, but his concern remained. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired from all the studying. It's near my graduation, and I have to prepare for the finals."

Joel's eyes lingered on you, taking in the pallor of your skin and the dark circles under your eyes. "You look sick. Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his concern. Joel was a man of few words, often letting his actions speak for him. His gruff exterior hid a deeply protective nature, one that he rarely showed to anyone. "I'm okay, really. Just a bit run down," you replied, trying to sound convincing.

Joel frowned, clearly not convinced, but he decided to lighten the mood. "So, how's school going? When are the big finals?"

You forced a smile, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, finals are coming up. Lots of studying and late nights."

Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. "I remember those days. Ellie gives me a hard time about studying too. But she's a smart kid, just like you."

"Thanks, Joel," you said softly, appreciating his attempt to comfort you. You cracked a small joke, trying to lighten the mood. "I just hope I don't end up like a zombie by the end of it."

Joel chuckled, though his eyes remained serious. He noticed how you occasionally winced and shifted your weight, clearly in pain. "You sure everything's okay at home?" he asked gently.

"Everything's great," you lied, remembering your father's stern warning. "Just the usual stress of school and stuff."

Joel's concern deepened, but he didn't push further. But before Joel could probe further, your father suddenly joined the conversation, his presence commanding attention.

"Joel, good to see you," he said with a broad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What are you two talking about?"

Joel straightened, his demeanor shifting. "Just catching up, Reverend."

Your father chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Joel, we’re at dinner. Call me Tony. We’re friends, remember?"

"Sure, Tony," Joel said, though the familiarity felt forced.

"How's the construction business going, Joel?" your father asked, his tone amiable.

"Busy as always," Joel replied, his eyes drifting back to you occasionally. "But it's good. Keeps me occupied."

Your father nodded, pretending to be interested. "That's great to hear. We should get together sometime, reminisce about the old days."

Joel's gaze met yours briefly, and you felt a flutter of something in your chest. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said, his voice lacking enthusiasm but polite nonetheless.

As they continued to talk, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, feeling a strange sense of longing. His concern was genuine, unlike the superficial care your father displayed. It made you yearn for something more, something real.

Joel's eyes met yours again, and for a moment, it felt like he could see everything you were hiding. His concern was like a warm blanket on a cold night, a small comfort in the midst of your storm. You smiled at him, a silent thank you for his kindness, and he returned the gesture with a slight nod.

"You remember the time we went fishing at the lake, Joel?" your father said, trying to sound nostalgic. "We caught that huge bass, and you almost fell in trying to reel it in."

Joel smiled, though it was a shadow of his usual warmth. "Yeah, I remember. Good times."

You watched the exchange, feeling a pang of longing. Joel's presence was a reminder of what you were missing – genuine care and concern, something your father could never provide.

As dinner progressed, everyone was making conversations and catching up. You remained silent, but to avoid suspicion, you occasionally joined in, talking to Ellie and responding when someone addressed you. Joel observed quietly, speaking only when necessary or when someone engaged him directly. His occasional glances toward you felt like anchors, ensuring you didn’t drift too far into the depths of your own discomfort.

When it was time to sit down for the meal, you ended up seated across from Joel. Your father, ever the sociable one, continued to dominate the conversation, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. You picked at your food, the pain in your body making it hard to eat.

Joel noticed your discomfort, his eyes filled with quiet concern. He whispered after you shifted uncomfortably for the umpteenth time, "You sure you're okay?" this time in a whisper so your father wouldn’t hear.

You forced another smile. "I'm fine, Joel. Just tired."

He didn't look convinced, but he let it go, respecting your space. His presence, though, was a constant reminder that someone cared, even if you couldn't fully accept it.

The conversation flowed around you, snippets of dialogue filling the air.

"So, Ellie," your mother said, smiling warmly, "how's school treating you?"

"It's good, Mrs. Gibson. A lot of work, but I'm managing," Ellie replied, glancing at you with a reassuring smile.

Your father, ever the charming host, turned to Tommy. "And how's the construction business? Keeping you busy, I hope?"

Tommy laughed. "Busy doesn't even begin to cover it. We're swamped, but that's a good problem to have."

Joel's eyes flicked back to you as you winced slightly, shifting in your seat. He could see the struggle in your movements, the way you tried to hide your pain. His gaze softened, but he remained silent, respecting your space.

Tommy, clearly enjoying the topic, continued with enthusiasm. "We’re working on this big project downtown. It’s a major redevelopment of an old warehouse into luxury apartments. It's been a challenge, but it’s rewarding. We’re talking high-end finishes, state-of-the-art amenities. It’s a bit of a tightrope walk between maintaining the budget and meeting the client’s vision."

Your father, clearly interested, responded with a knowing nod. "Sounds like a big undertaking. How’s the team handling the pressure?"

Tommy grinned. "We’ve got a solid crew, but it’s been intense. Lots of late nights and early mornings. Joel’s seen the stress firsthand. He’s been around to lend a hand whenever things get tight."

Tommy’s gaze turned to Joel, as if inviting him to elaborate. "Right, Joel? You’ve had your fair share of those late nights, haven’t you?"

Joel nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, late nights and long days. It’s all part of the job. We keep pushing through because, in the end, it’s worth it."

Your father leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "You’ve been in the business a long time, Joel. What’s been the biggest challenge for you lately?"

Joel paused for a moment, thinking. "The biggest challenge is always adapting to new demands. Clients want more, and sometimes it feels like we’re racing against the clock. But we get it done."

Tommy, sensing an opportunity to keep the conversation lively, added, "Joel’s been great about handling the unexpected. I remember one time we had a major issue with a contractor, and Joel stepped in and saved the day."

Joel’s expression remained neutral, but there was a glimmer of appreciation in his eyes for Tommy’s support. "Just doing what needs to be done," he said.

Your mother’s voice was bright and enthusiastic as she shifted the topic. "Tommy, Maria, how’s little Luke doing? I can't believe how quickly he's growing."

Maria’s face lit up with pride. "He’s amazing. It’s been an adjustment, but we’re loving every moment of it. He’s starting to smile more, and it's just the sweetest thing."

Your mother nodded approvingly, her smile wide. "Oh, that’s wonderful! It’s such a joy to watch them grow. We’ve always said that parenting is the most rewarding experience."

The words felt like a raw wound being picked at, each one a reminder of the dissonance between their image of perfect parenting and your own reality. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the sharp pangs of pain that only seemed to intensify with every sugary comment.

Your father, ever the performer, joined in with his own brand of parental wisdom. "Yes, it’s true. Parenting brings out the best in you. It's about guiding them, teaching them right from wrong, and showing them how to navigate the world."

Tommy, clearly enjoying the turn of conversation, added, "Absolutely. We’ve had our challenges, but it’s worth it to see Luke grow and thrive. Every milestone is a victory."

Your mother leaned in with an air of authority. "And don’t forget the importance of structure and discipline. It’s all about finding that balance and being consistent. We always said that’s key to raising well-rounded children."

As the conversation continued, your parents spoke in glowing terms about their parenting philosophy, each statement reinforcing the image of perfection they projected. The more they spoke, the more you felt the weight of their insincerity.

The pain you were trying to suppress seemed to magnify with every word. You gripped your fork tighter, the effort making your knuckles white. You wanted to scream at the facade, the false sense of superiority they exuded while completely ignoring the reality of your struggles.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to you repeatedly, his concern growing more evident with each shift in your posture. He watched as you tried to mask your discomfort, his gaze softening as he saw the strain on your face.

Maria, ever perceptive, noticed the change in your demeanor as well. "Everything alright, sweetheart?" she asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You forced another smile, though it felt like a mask slipping off. "Just a bit tired, Maria. Nothing to worry about."

Maria didn’t press further but her gaze remained concerned. She glanced at Joel, who gave a subtle nod, acknowledging her unspoken question. Joel’s eyes continued to linger on you, the concern etched deeply into his expression.

As the conversation shifted to a more religious tone, your father, ever the preacher, began to elaborate on his views. His voice took on that familiar, reverent cadence. "Children are a gift from God," he said, his eyes sweeping over the table as if to bless it with his words. "They are entrusted to us to guide, nurture, and instill the values that will shape their futures. It's a sacred duty, one that brings us closer to our faith and to each other."

He continued, the fervor in his voice rising, "The Bible teaches us that we are stewards of these precious souls. Our responsibility is not just to provide for their physical needs, but to mold their character, teach them right from wrong, and guide them in the ways of the Lord."

The words, so full of sanctimonious zeal, felt like a punch to your gut. Each statement was a cruel reminder of the gap between his idealized view of parenting and the harsh reality of your own life. You could feel your discomfort intensify, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

Joel’s gaze shifted between your father’s preachy sermon and your growing distress. His brow furrowed, sensing the tension in the room. He saw you clutching your stomach, your face growing pale. Maria’s concern mirrored his as she glanced at you, her eyes filled with empathy.

Feeling trapped, you struggled to maintain composure, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white. The facade of your father's perfect parenting began to feel like a cruel joke, and the more he spoke, the harder it became to stay seated.

Finally, unable to endure any more, you excused yourself. "Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom," you said, standing up quickly. Your voice was strained, but you tried to keep it steady.

Your father’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a coldness in his eyes that made you shiver. "Sit down, dear. It’s not polite to excuse yourself while others are speaking. We’re all here to enjoy each other’s company." The reprimand felt like a vise tightening around you.

You glanced around the table, feeling the pressure of everyone’s gaze. "I really need to go," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to hold your ground.

Your father’s smile turned colder, and the sharpness in his tone cut through the tension. "If you must go," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if warning you not to embarrass him further. "But do you know where the bathroom is? Don't want to bother Tommy and Maria, they are still eating,"

Before you or Tommy an Maria could respond, Joel’s voice cut in, low and steady. "I can show her where it is. I’m finished eating, so I can walk her there."

Your father’s eyes flicked to Joel, his expression softening slightly in a forced show of graciousness. "Thank you, Joel."

You nodded gratefully, feeling a small measure of relief as you met Joel’s concerned gaze. He stood up, his movements deliberate and calm. Maria was occupied with Evelyn, and Ellie was still eating, leaving Joel as the most suitable candidate to help you.

Joel approached you quietly, his demeanor gentle as he offered a reassuring smile. "Come on, I'll show you the way."

You nodded, standing up with a sense of cautious relief. As you walked toward the hallway with Joel, you could feel the weight of the conversation still hanging over you. Joel’s presence was a quiet comfort, his concern a stark contrast to the harshness of your father’s demeanor.

As you made your way down the hall, Joel glanced at you, his eyes filled with genuine worry. "You feeling okay, kid?"

You managed a small, appreciative smile. "I'm good, thanks, Joel."

He gave a reassuring nod as you approached the bathroom door. "I’ll be right here if you need anything. Just take your time."

As you stepped inside the bathroom, the coolness of the tile against your skin was a brief respite from the tension. You leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The solitude offered a momentary escape from the scrutiny and discomfort you’d felt at the table.

With trembling hands, you slowly opened your dress to check the scars, the ones that had been worsening over the past few days. The sight of them made your heart sink further. They were inflamed, bruised, and itching painfully. You traced the edges with your fingertips, and the pain was sharp and immediate. A stifled hiss escaped your lips as tears welled up in your eyes. The physical agony was overwhelming, but it was compounded by the emotional turmoil of the evening.

You tried to steady your breathing, but the pain made it difficult. Your fingers brushed the scars again, and a small, anguished cry escaped you. The pain was almost unbearable, and you felt the tears streaming down your face uncontrollably.

From outside the door, Joel’s voice cut through the quiet. "Kid, is everything alright in there?"

His voice, tinged with concern, snapped you back to reality. You quickly wiped your tears, trying to compose yourself. "I’m fine, Joel. Just... give me a minute."

There was a moment of silence before Joel spoke again, his voice gentle but firm. "If something’s wrong, you can tell me. I’m here to help."

You hesitated, the pain and fear making it hard to respond. "I... it’s just—it's nothing serious. I’ll be out in a second."

After a few deep breaths and a final check, you composed yourself as best as you could. You pulled your dress back into place, the physical discomfort still sharp but slightly more manageable. You wiped away the remaining tears, trying to regain your composure.

Opening the bathroom door, you found Joel still standing there, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of concern and patience. You offered him a shaky smile, hoping to convey that you were alright. "Thanks for waiting."

Joel’s gaze lingered on you, his concern deepening as he took in the faint tremble in your hands and the redness in your eyes. "You okay, kid?"

You nodded and smiled, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

Joel didn't respond immediately, his eyes searching yours for the truth. “You sure? You look...like you're in pain."

Your smile faltered, and you looked down, unable to maintain the facade under his steady gaze. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, trying to deflect. “Just...school stress."

Joel's eyes narrowed slightly, but he decided not to push further. "Alright, if you say so. Let’s get back to dinner.”

You both returned to the dining room, where the atmosphere had lightened considerably. The meal continued with lively conversation, the clinking of silverware, and the warm glow of shared company.

After dinner, your mom joined Maria in the kitchen to help with the dishes, their laughter and chatter floating through the house. Outside, your father, Tommy, and Joel settled on the backyard porch, their conversation punctuated by the occasional sound of a beer bottle opening or the murmur of crickets.

You found yourself in the living room with Ellie, who was scrolling through her phone while little Luke slept peacefully on the couch. You took a seat next to her, and she looked up, smiling.

"Hey," you said, leaning back into the cushions. "How's school been for you?"

Ellie shrugged, putting her phone down. "It's alright, I guess. Same old stuff. How about you? Finals must be tough, huh?"

"Yeah, they are," you admitted. "But it's almost over. Just a few more months, and then we're done."

Ellie grinned. "Bet you can't wait to get out of here."

You laughed softly. "Yeah, it's definitely time for a change. How about you? Any plans after high school?"

"Maybe college, if I can figure out what I want to do," Ellie replied. "So...Tell me, are there any boys at school you've got your eye on?" She tease giving you a smirk.

You blushed, shaking your head. "No, not really."

Ellie rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, come on. Everyone knows you're like the most popular girl in school. The boys are all over you."

You sighed, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation. "I can't say I'm like that and it's not quite like that. They're just...curious, I guess."

"Curious about what?" Ellie asked, raising an eyebrow.

You hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know, it seems like they're curious about me."

Ellie then brought up what she saw a week ago. "So...don't want to be nosy, but I saw you with Jamie the other day. Is he the one?" She gave you a smirk, clearly enjoying teasing you.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "No, he's just a friend."

"Come on, you can tell me," Ellie insisted, nudging you playfully.

You blushed and tried to deflect, but Ellie wasn't letting up. "Stop, Ellie. It was nothing."

Ellie grinned, leaning in closer. "Okay, but don't tell anyone. Jamie's been trying to get close to me. It's been going on for two months now. We’ve gone out a few times. He’s kissed me, but it hasn’t gone beyond that."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, looking more serious. “And he’s asking for more, isn’t he?”

You nodded, feeling a knot of confusion and frustration in your chest. “Yeah. He keeps bringing up sex, but I’ve told him I’m not ready. He said he’d wait, but he keeps asking. I don’t know what to do.”

Ellie leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “Jamie’s the captain of the football team, right? Popular, blonde, not too smart?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” you confirmed, sighing. “He’s nice, but this pressure... I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Ellie nodded understandingly. “You shouldn’t feel pressured to do anything you’re not ready for. If Jamie really cares about you, he’ll respect your boundaries. And if he doesn’t, then he’s not worth it.”

You sighed again, the weight of your father's teachings pressing down on you. "But... I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed if I don’t do what he wants. Jamie is nice and polite. His family has giving our church a lot...he also giving me a lot of nice stuff, like dress, necklace and all. My dad always said if someone’s nice to you, you should be nice back. And always obey men because they’re higher in status than women."

Ellie’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Who told you that?"

You shrugged, feeling a bit defensive. "My father."

Ellie shook her head, her expression turning serious. "That’s...kinda messed up. Just because someone’s nice doesn’t mean you owe them anything, especially not your body. And men aren’t superior to women. We’re all equal."

You bit your lip, considering her words. "But that’s how my daddy raised me, Ellie. He always says women should obey men."

Ellie leaned forward, her eyes filled with conviction. "Well, according on how Joel raise me. He taught me to stand up for myself and that I’m just as important as any man. It’s about respect, not obedience. You don’t owe Jamie anything just because he’s nice. If he can’t respect your boundaries, he’s not worth your time."

You felt a flicker of hope at her words. "I... I guess you’re right. It’s just hard to go against everything I’ve been taught."

Ellie reached out and squeezed your hand. "I know it’s hard, but you deserve to be with someone who respects you and your choices. Don’t let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less than you are."

When Ellie said that, it felt like a hit to the chest. "Don't let anyone, not even your father, make you feel less..." Her words echoed in your mind, resonating with a truth that was both comforting and terrifying. You wished you could believe it, wished you had the strength to stand up to your father. But the reality of your life loomed large and unyielding. Defiance meant danger. Defiance meant pain.

As Ellie's words replayed in your head, you felt a knot tightening in your stomach. You imagined standing up to your father, telling him that you were more than his expectations, more than his strict rules and harsh punishments. The thought made your heart race with a blend of hope and fear.

You glanced at Ellie, her eyes filled with a fierce, protective light. She believed in you, saw your worth even when you couldn't. It was a beacon in the darkness of your doubt, a small but vital spark of hope.

Yet, the idea of challenging your father felt insurmountable. His shadow stretched long over your life, dictating your every move, every thought. You had been molded by his will, taught to obey without question, to live in the confines of his rigid beliefs.

You had to pretend to be the perfect daughter, maintaining the facade that your father was the saintly preacher everyone believed him to be. The weight of this pretense was suffocating, but it was the only way you knew to survive.

Outside, the conversation between Tommy and your father continued, their voices a low hum against the backdrop of the evening. Joel, on the other hand, was mostly silent, nursing his beer as he leaned against the porch railing. His eyes flicked occasionally to the living room, where you and Ellie were talking.

Joel's expression was hard to read, but there was a tension in his jaw, a tightness in his grip on the beer bottle that hinted at his unease. He listened more to your conversation than to Tommy and your father's, though he tried to appear disinterested. Something about you drew him in, made him care more than he wanted to admit. He told himself it was none of his business, that he had no right to interfere in someone else’s family matters. But still, there was a nagging feeling in his gut, an instinct honed by years of protecting those he loved.

As Joel watched you, he saw the way your shoulders slumped slightly when you thought no one was looking, the way your eyes darted nervously to the doorway whenever a noise came from the kitchen. You were like a skittish animal, always on alert, always ready to flee or freeze. It reminded him too much of the broken children he'd seen in the aftermath of tragedy, children who had learned too young that the world was a dangerous place.

He took another sip of his beer, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn't need more complications in his life. He had enough to deal with, enough to protect. But damn it, there was something about you, something that called out to the part of him that had once been a father, that still is a father to Ellie. It was a part of him that couldn't ignore the signs of distress, the silent cries for help.

In the living room, Ellie continued to speak softly, her words a balm to your troubled heart. "You know," she said, squeezing your hand, "no matter what, you've got me. If you ever need to get away, to take a break, my door's always open."

You looked at her, the warmth in her eyes contrasting sharply with the cold dread that usually filled your days. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice barely holding back the tears. "It means more than you know."

Joel caught that moment, saw the brief glimpse of vulnerability and the strength it took for you to accept Ellie’s offer of support. It stirred something deep within him, a protective instinct he hadn't felt in a long time.

He tried to shake it off, focusing back on the conversation outside. Tommy was laughing at something your father said, their voices blending into the background noise of the night. But even as he tried to tune them out, his mind kept drifting back to you. He didn't know what he could do, or if he should do anything at all.

As the evening wore on, Joel glanced back at you one last time, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to help, without overstepping the boundaries he was so careful to maintain.

***

The last few weeks had been a blur of routine and unspoken tension. Each day felt like a balancing act, with you trying to maintain the perfect image your father demanded while wrestling with your own growing doubts and fears. The only moments of relief came when you could steal a few minutes alone with Ellie, her unwavering support a lifeline in the storm.

One evening after school, you found yourself in your usual spot on the porch, the soft hum of cicadas filling the air. You hugged your knees to your chest, staring out at the darkening sky, your thoughts a tangled mess. You were wearing a nice white mini dress, modest yet elegant, with your hair braided into two sides and adorned with white ribbons.

You had managed to keep up appearances at church, attending every service, helping with every event, but the pressure was becoming unbearable. The weight of your father's expectations pressed down on you like a vise, and each day it grew tighter.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar truck parked in your driveway. You watched as a middle-aged man with a salt-and-pepper beard and black hair stepped out. He had a ruggedly handsome look about him, and as he saw you, a charming smile spread across his face. He stood there for a moment, then walked towards you with an air of confidence.

“Evenin’,” he said, his voice a smooth drawl. “Is this Father Gibson’s house?”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing your dress. “Yes, it is. Can I help you with something?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “Well, aren’t you a polite one? I’m lookin’ for the Reverend. Is he around?”

You nodded again, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “He’s inside. I can get him for you.”

As you turned to go inside, he called after you, his voice teasing. “You know, you’ve got a real pretty smile. Brightens up the whole place.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and forced a polite smile. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be right back.”

Inside, you found your father in his study, poring over his notes for Sunday’s sermon. “Dad, there’s someone here to see you.”

Your father looked up, frowning slightly. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know his name, but he’s outside waiting,” you replied.

Your father nodded, rising from his chair and heading towards the door. You followed him, your curiosity piqued.

The man was waiting patiently on the porch, his hands in his pockets. As your father approached, he extended a hand with a broad smile. “Reverend Gibson, pleasure to meet you. I'm Naomi's cousin, I assume she already told you?"

Your father shook his hand, a wary look in his eyes. “Ah, yes. Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith."

The man leaned in slightly, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I was hopin’ we could have a little chat. Got some things I’d like to discuss."

Your father glanced at you, then back at him. “Of course. Let’s step inside.”

As they moved inside, the man glanced back at you, giving you a wink. You watched them disappear into the house, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity swirling inside you.

Not long after, you heard the rumble of Jamie's truck pulling up. Your heart lightened, and you smiled, walking towards the driveway with an eagerness that belied the tension you had been feeling all day. You hung by the fences, your fingers curling around the cool metal as Jamie got out of his truck.

"Hi, Jamie," you said, your voice bright with excitement.

Jamie grinned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. "Hey sweetpie, how are ya doing? looking beautiful as ever,"

Jamie’s compliment made your cheeks flush, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Jamie. I’m doing alright. How about you?”

Jamie’s grin widened. “Can’t complain. I was thinking maybe we could catch that new movie tonight. What do you say?”

The thought of escaping the confines of home and spending a carefree evening with Jamie was a welcome distraction. “That sounds great. But I need to ask my dad first.”

Jamie nodded, settling back into the truck as you approached the front door. The door swung open, and you saw your father still deep in conversation with the man you didn’t know, whose gaze was fixed intently on you.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the unnerving feeling that his eyes were tracing every inch of you.

You spoke to your father, trying to keep your tone as casual as possible. “Father, Jamie asked if I could go to the cinema with him tonight. Is it okay?”

Your father glanced at you briefly, then at the man, whose expression was inscrutable but decidedly interested. “Jamie Lee?” your father asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you replied.

Your father’s eyes flickered with annoyance at being interrupted but softened as he looked at you. “It’s not ideal to leave while we have a guest here, but alright, you can go. Be back by eight.”

You thanked him and turned to leave, but as you did, you couldn’t help but notice how the man’s gaze lingered on you. His eyes, though polite, seemed to hold a predatory glint, scanning you with an intensity that made you shiver slightly.

You gave a nervous smile as you rejoined Jamie at the truck, who was looking at you with a hopeful expression. “Dad said it’s fine. Let’s go.”

Jamie’s face lit up, and he slid into the driver’s seat with an easy grin. As he started the engine, he turned on some country music, the tunes filling the truck and momentarily lifting your spirits. The drive was smooth, and you found yourself relaxing, your earlier worries momentarily forgotten.

After the movie, Jamie suggested a detour. “How about we grab a drink? There’s a little bar outside of town where we can chill for a bit. What do you say?”

You hesitated, not entirely sure about the idea but wanting to enjoy the evening. “I don’t know… I’m not really into drinking.”

Jamie reassured you with a charming smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun. Just one drink, I promise.”

When you arrived at the bar, a dimly lit place with a cozy, rustic feel, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. Jamie led you inside, and you slid onto a barstool. Jamie ordered whiskey for himself and told you he’d get you something sweet.

The bartender handed you a glass, and you took a tentative sip, expecting a cherry cola. Instead, the liquid was warm and had a strong, unfamiliar bite. You grimaced, looking at Jamie with confusion. “This doesn’t taste like cherry cola. Are you sure this is what I ordered?”

Jamie leaned in, his voice low and soothing. “Nah, it’s whiskey, babe. I thought you might want to try something a bit more adventurous.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I can’t drink whiskey. I’ve never had it before, and my dad would be really angry if he found out.”

Jamie gave you a reassuring smile, placing a hand on your back. “Relax. It’s just a drink. No one’s gonna know. Besides, it’s just one drink. You’ll be fine.”

You hesitated, glancing around the bar. The atmosphere was relaxed, but you couldn’t shake the nervous feeling in your stomach. Jamie’s insistence and easy demeanor made it hard to say no. You took another small sip, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t a big deal.

Jamie’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched you. “Just have a little more. You might actually like it. It’s good for loosening up, you know?”

Reluctantly, you took another sip, feeling the warmth spread through you. The whiskey tasted harsh and made you cough slightly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

Jamie laughed, a bit too loudly, but with a genuine affection in his voice. “Don’t worry about it. Just relax and have fun. We’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

Despite the alcohol, you felt an uneasy flutter in your stomach, the drink making you feel lightheaded. Jamie encouraged you to drink more, and you found yourself gradually giving in, the whiskey dulling the edges of your anxiety.

As the evening wore on, you felt the effects of the alcohol more clearly. Your thoughts became hazy, and the room seemed to spin slightly. Jamie’s presence became more comforting, and his laughter more infectious. He kept encouraging you to drink, telling you it was all in good fun.

The bar buzzed with life around you, but the world felt distant, the sounds muffled by the warmth and haze of whiskey. Jamie’s arm around your shoulders was a constant presence, a mix of comfort and tension that made your skin tingle.

As he helped you into the truck, his touch was firm, and you leaned against him, inhaling the potent blend of whiskey and his cologne. The city lights outside blurred, a streak of neon against the dark sky, but Jamie abruptly pulled over to a quiet, secluded road.

“Jamie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Jamie’s gaze was intense, a smoldering look that seemed to pierce through the fog of your mind. “I just wanted to be alone with you,” he murmured, his voice low and slightly slurred. His fingers traced your jawline, his touch both tender and possessive.

The air in the truck was thick with anticipation, charged with an electric tension that you couldn’t ignore. Jamie leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so incredibly beautiful. I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

A shiver cascaded down your spine at his words, a confusing mix of desire and trepidation swirling within you. The whiskey had softened your inhibitions, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.

His words were like a seductive caress, stirring a deep, unsettling need. “Jamie, I can't,” you began to say, but his lips silenced you, capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss.

His lips were rough, demanding, and they moved with an intensity that set your senses alight. His hands roamed over your body, finding the buttons of your blouse with a hunger that made your heart race. he's messaging your boobs you slowly moan because it feels so good.

The kiss deepened, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate urgency. His hands were warm but rough, the contrast of his touch creating a mix of discomfort and electric thrill.

You felt a rising heat as he tugged at your blouse, the fabric yielding under his insistent fingers. “Just this once,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot and ragged. “It’ll be everything you’ve ever wanted, I promise.”

A part of you wanted to resist, but the intoxicating mix of his touch and your own growing desire blurred your judgment. You felt a strange, almost reckless surrender, your boundaries melting away in the intensity of the moment.

"Stop, I-I can't," you said

"I promise, it will feel good, baby," he said

Jamie’s fingers moved with a deliberate skill, teasing and exploring your most sensitive spots. You gasped as his touch sent jolts of pleasure through your body, making your head swim with a mix of desire and confusion. The whiskey's lingering warmth mingled with the heat rising within you, clouding your ability to think clearly.

His other hand slid down your back, pulling you closer until you were almost on his lap. The friction between your bodies only intensified the sensations coursing through you. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a hard, undeniable reminder of his desire.

“Jamie,” you breathed, your voice a mix of protest and longing. “I shouldn’t—”

But your words were cut off as his fingers found their mark, pressing and circling with just the right pressure. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. A moan escaped your lips, unbidden and undeniable.

“Just let go,” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “I’ve got you.”

His mouth found yours again, the kiss deepening as he continued to work you with his fingers. Your body responded eagerly, every nerve ending on fire. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you surrendered to the sensations overwhelming you.

With a deftness born of experience, he slipped your blouse off your shoulders, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. Your skin tingled where he touched, each kiss sending a wave of heat through you.

His hands moved to your breasts, kneading and teasing, his mouth following close behind. The contrast of his rough fingers and the softness of his lips was intoxicating, making you arch into his touch. You could feel the last vestiges of your resistance crumbling, your body aching.

“Jamie,” you whispered, your voice a mix of wanting for more but you are scared, “Please, stop…”

His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in shedding his own clothes. The sight of him, bare and ready, sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He reached for you, pulling you close until you were both lying back on the seat, your bodies entwined.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Jamie, please,” you begged, a note of panic creeping into your voice as his grip tightened and his movements became rougher. The initial pleasure was swiftly giving way to pain, each thrust sending shockwaves of discomfort through your body.

“Stop, Jamie, it hurts,” you pleaded, trying to push him away. But he was too strong, his body a heavy weight pinning you down. His eyes, glazed over with alcohol and desire, didn’t seem to register your distress. Instead, his anger flared, his thrusts becoming more forceful and unrelenting.

Tears streamed down your face as you cried out in pain, your voice breaking with each sob. “Please, stop! Jamie, please stop!” you screamed, your hands frantically pushing against his chest, but it was no use. He was lost to his own needs, driven by the alcohol coursing through his veins.

You felt a deep, pervasive sense of violation, your body and spirit shattering with each brutal movement. Desperation clawed at your insides as you prayed for an end to the torment. “God, please make him stop,” you whispered through your tears, your voice a broken, helpless plea.

But Jamie didn’t stop. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging painfully into your skin. The pain was overwhelming, each thrust tearing through you, leaving you feeling dirty and used. Your cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the sound of his ragged breathing and the cruel rhythm of his assault.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly, every second an eternity of agony and despair. You felt yourself slipping into a numb, distant place, a coping mechanism to survive the relentless onslaught. Your body became a vessel of pain, your mind retreating to a place where the hurt couldn’t reach you.

Finally, with a shuddering groan, Jamie reached his climax, his body stilling as he released himself inside you. The moment he pulled out and rolled away, you curled into a ball, your body shaking with sobs. The physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional devastation, the sense of betrayal and violation that coursed through you.

Jamie lay beside you, panting and spent, seemingly oblivious to the trauma he had inflicted. His eyes slowly cleared as the effects of the alcohol began to wear off, but the damage was already done. You felt hollow, your trust shattered, your sense of self irreparably damaged.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled, his voice thick with regret as he reached out to touch you. You flinched violently, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.

"Get away from me!" you screamed, your voice raw with pain and anger. You felt so dirty, so violated, your mind reeling from the horror of what had just happened. You wanted to disappear, to vanish from the world and escape the unbearable weight of your trauma.

Jamie pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I didn't mean to... I was drunk... I—" His words were a pathetic jumble of excuses, falling on deaf ears.

"Just shut up," you spat, your voice trembling with rage. "Just shut up and take me back to town. I can't be here with you. I can't even look at you."

He nodded mutely, too ashamed to argue. As he started the truck, you pulled your clothes back on with shaking hands, each movement a reminder of the violation you'd endured. The drive back was silent, the air thick with a tension that neither of you dared to break.

When the truck finally came to a stop near the outskirts of town, you didn't wait for it to fully halt before you opened the door and stumbled out. "I can walk from here," you said coldly, not looking back. "I don't want to see you ever again."

Jamie opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He simply nodded, the look of regret and sorrow etched on his face as you slammed the door shut and started walking away.

As you walked, each step felt like an eternity, your mind a whirlwind of pain and confusion. You couldn’t go home, not like this. The thought of facing your family in your current state was unbearable. Instead, you turned your steps towards Ellie’s house. She was the only one who would understand, the only one you could trust to hold you through this nightmare.

You stumbled up the porch steps, your vision blurred by tears, your makeup smeared and your hair a tangled mess. Your dress was wrinkled and torn, a stark reminder of what had happened. You knocked on the door, hugging yourself tightly in a futile attempt to keep warm, to feel safe.

When the door opened, it wasn’t Ellie who stood there. It was Joel. You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with tears, your breath hitching in your chest.

Joel's eyes widened in shock and concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. "What happened?" he asked urgently, his voice trembling with worry. "What’s going on? Are you hurt?" Ellie wasn’t home; she was staying at a friend's house for the night.

The sight of him brought a fresh wave of tears, and you couldn't hold back the sobs any longer. You collapsed to the ground, your body shaking with the force of your cries. The world around you blurred into an indistinguishable mess of pain and despair.

Joel was beside you in an instant, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, his voice breaking as he held you. "You're safe now. I've got you."

As he held you, his heart raced, a sense of urgency fueling his every movement. He noticed the blood seeping through your legs, and panic gripped him. There was a raw, protective anger in his eyes, one that he usually kept buried deep beneath his calm exterior.

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. "Joel," you choked out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "He hurt me. He wouldn’t stop. I begged him, but he wouldn’t stop."

Joel’s body went rigid, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "Who hurt you?" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and sorrow.

"Jamie," you sobbed, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. "I told him to stop, but he wouldn't listen."

The silence that followed your confession was thick with tension. Joel’s face darkened, his eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness that made you feel a flicker of safety amidst your despair. He took a deep breath, clearly fighting to keep his anger in check.

"Come on, let's get you inside," he said softly, helping you to your feet. His touch was gentle, but you could feel the barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.

He led you into the living room, where the soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light on the room, a stark contrast to the cold emptiness you felt inside. Joel carefully sat you down on the couch. He needed to clean you up. The sight of your blood-soaked dress made his heart ache with a mix of sorrow and rage.

Joel disappeared for a moment, returning with a blanket and a cup of tea. He wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, his touch tender and reassuring, then handed you the tea.

"Here, drink this," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "It’ll help."

You took the cup with trembling hands, the warmth seeping into your skin, offering a small measure of comfort. Joel sat beside you, his presence a solid anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"You don’t have to talk about it right now," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with sorrow. "But I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready."

You looked at him, the tears still streaming down your face. "I feel so dirty," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I didn't want this. I didn’t want any of it."

Joel's face softened, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and fierce protectiveness. "You're not dirty," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Baby, it's not your fault."

The sincerity in his voice broke something loose inside you, and you sobbed harder, your body shaking with the force of your grief. Joel pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cried. “We’ll get through this,” he promised, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. For the first time in a while, Joel opened his heart, letting his walls down to show you his unwavering support.

He held you for what felt like hours, his embrace a cocoon of safety and warmth. The tears seemed endless, each one carrying a fragment of your shattered soul. But Joel remained steadfast, his presence a constant reassurance that you were not alone in your suffering.

As he held you, Joel's thoughts churned with a mix of emotions. He was a man of few words, accustomed to keeping his feelings locked away, buried deep beneath a hardened exterior. But seeing you like this, broken and vulnerable, stirred something dark and primal within him.

It reminded him of his own past, the pain and loss that had shaped him into the man he was today. The memories of Sarah, his daughter, flashed through his mind – the way he had failed to protect her, the helplessness and rage that had consumed him. He had vowed never to let himself feel that kind of pain again, to never let anyone get close enough to hurt him.

Yet here he was, holding you, feeling an overwhelming need to protect you, to shield you from the world’s cruelty. The thought of Jamie, the man who had done this to you, ignited a fierce, burning anger within him. Joel's grip tightened around you, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

He would make Jamie pay for what he had done. There was a darkness inside Joel, a ruthless side that he rarely let see the light of day. But for you, he would unleash it. He would ensure that Jamie never hurt you – or anyone else – again. The thought of revenge, of justice, gave him a grim sense of purpose, a way to channel the turmoil inside him.

Joel's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He was deeply troubled by the sight of you in such pain, and his protective instincts surged to the forefront. He knew he had to keep himself under control, to focus on helping you heal. But the thought of Jamie’s actions ignited a cold, calculated fury within him.

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paradiseprincesss · 4 months

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please we need more Jim the delinquent season!!! please I beg idc if it's smut or fluff or both... Lol btw I am invested in your fics... Wait ngl smut sounds lovely...

perfect for you - jim (the delinquent season) x reader

masterlist

notes: hello lovely anon, i can definitely do that for you! fluffy and smutty jim content is a need. ugh, what i would do to call him mine.

summary: you've always found your best friends dad attractive. unbeknownst to you, the feeling was mutual on his end, especially after his divorce. one night, your best friend goes somewhere, leaving you and her dad alone together.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, kissing, age gap (everyone is legal), reader is implied to be around 20 and jim is in his 40's, bestfriends dad! trope, p in v, aftercare <3

cassie had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. the two of you had met in elementary school, and your friendship lasted a lifetime. now, both you and her were attending college together; all grown up. purposefully, the two of you aimed to get into the same college as neither of you wanted to spend time apart from each other, even when it came to school.

you'd known her for ages, and you were super close with her family. likewise, she was close with yours, as you'd basically grown up together. however, cassie's parents divorced just over a year ago, so much to your dismay, you didn't get to see her mom as frequently anymore. she'd moved out even before her divorce was finalized, and you'd only see her occasionally now.

cassie decided to live her with her dad, jim, as he owned a lovely house quite close to campus, and you also lived just down the road. it was convenient for the both of you. jim was never very talkative, definitely more reserved than his ex-wife ever was, and you'd only really gotten to know him more after the divorce.

even though you'd known him for a majority of your life, you clicked with cassie's mom much more - isn't that how it always is, though? regardless, you would still come over frequently to cassie's place, as the two of you always worked on assignments together. even though she majored in something completely different than you, that didn't stop either of you from bonding over the college experience together.

for the first couple months after the divorce, jim was quiet. he would make small talk with the two of you, maybe ask how your lectures went but otherwise he would keep to himself.

during one particularly hot summer day, jim was having a few of his friends over to watch some sort of sports game, while you and cassie were upstairs working on homework. that same night, cassie got a text from a guy she was interested in from her class who'd asked her out, and you encouraged her to go out with him.

jim and you had talked a bit more frequently at this point in time, since he was finally coming out of his shell more. you didn't blame him after the whole thing with his marriage ending and all. that being said, you felt comfortable just chilling at her place as you'd most likely end up going home pretty soon after she'd left anyway.

plus, this wasn't out of the ordinary for you nor her. she'd often stay at your place for a few days at a time sometimes; the two of you were close like that. you'd do the same, staying over at hers for a few days as well, neither of your parents minded. it had always been this way, even when the two of you were growing up.

"are you sure? i can always tell him i'm busy." she asked you, touching up her makeup.

"oh my god, cass. just go, you've liked this guy for so long!" you insisted, giggling.

"yeah, i know," she laughed, "my dad has his buddies over to watch the stupid game, though. you can go home if you want, but if you get tired feel free to crash at mine tonight."

"i live down the road, but i will definitely keep that in mind." you say with a laugh, shaking your head.

"yeah but your basically my sister, so i don't care if you sleep here or whatever." she says, applying some lipgloss as she fixed her hair.

"go have fun tonight," you say to her, "and text me all the details."

"obviously," she says, turning to face you, "do i look good?"

"duh, like always." you say, glancing at her but returning to your notes as you scribble more stuff down from your textbook.

"if all goes well...i'll text you in the morning." she laughs, and you shake your head laughing along with your best friend.

that night, cassie did in fact have a great night - so great, in fact, that she ended up staying over at that guys house. however, she wasn't the only one who ended up sleeping in someone else's bed that night.

one thing led to another while cassie was gone for the night, and somehow you ended up in jims bed, tangled in the sheets and wrapped up in his arms. sleeping with your best friends dad was not something you planned on doing, but it sort of just...happened.

his buddies has gone home for the night, and you wandered downstairs so that you could quietly leave and return back to your house; but you noticed everyone had left already.

"you didn't go out with cassie?" jim's voice called out from behind you, and you turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"no," you shake your head, "i have a final next week, i needed to study for it."

"ah, smart girl." he said softly in that accent that made your knees weak. for a moment, he was quiet. just staring at you while you stared back, unsure of what else to say.

"do you need help cleaning up?" you ask politely, since it wasn't too late. it was only quarter past eight, and he looked a little tired.

"don't worry about it." he smiled, and you shook your head.

"least i could do, i'm always over here anyways." you insisted, making your way to the kitchen.

there were only a few dishes scattered around, along with some empty beer cans and a few cups. you helped him put the food on the counter away and cleaned some of the dishes. after the two of you were done, he looked at you with a soft smile.

"you've always been so helpful," he smiled, "i appreciate it."

"it's no problem." you say back, watching him lean against the counter.

he doesn't respond, but instead just looks at you under the dim kitchen lighting, and his baby blue eyes pierce right through you.

"do you have a boyfriend? remind me, i forgot." he asked suddenly, and you felt your cheeks heating up at his rather...innocent question.

"n-no, i don't." you say with a nervous laugh.

"c'mere." he said and for a second, you thought you'd misheard him.

"what?" you asked quietly.

"come here." he repeated.

hesitantly, you make your way closer to him and look up at his blue eyes. he glances down at you, still leaning against the counter with his hands gripping the edge.

okay - if you were being totally honest right now, you had always found your best friends dad to be really attractive. but he was married for the longest time and he was also the father of your lifelong best friend! it was wrong on so many levels, but it appeared that neither of you seemed to cared.

suddenly, his hand was making it's way onto your waist, and you almost felt the need to pinch yourself in case this was all just a very vivid dream you were having.

"the walls are thin, you know," he said softly, rubbing circles into your waist with his thumb, "i heard you last week, on the phone to your friend or whoever while cassie was picking milo up from the vet."

your heart dropped. last week, cassie had to pick her dog up from the vet, and you were home alone with jim for around half an hour. within that half hour, another friend of yours called and somehow, the topic landed on jim. well, more like you'd told your friend you were staying at cassie's for the evening, which led to the friend asking about her parents divorce, which then led you to say some interesting things about jim.

"if he wasn't cassie's dad, i'd be all over that." you said to your friend as the both of you giggled over the phone.

"yeah, i've seen him. like, damn." your friend said, making you laugh once more.

"you have no idea what it's like when i come over, i literally have to force myself to focus on something - anything else." you tell her, but then you heard the front door open. "mhm, yeah. okay, i gotta go. bye."

with that, you ended your phone call - not realizing jim had been grabbing the laundry from the washer out in the hall. he heard everything, and he couldn't lie; it really turned him on. he always knew it was wrong, but he was definitely attracted to you. it started out innocent, like for example, it started when you had turned nineteen. he would think you looked really pretty when you wore a certain outfit, or when you did your hair a certain way.

then, as the next year or two went by, he found himself noticing other things about you. like how perky your tits looked in a certain shirt, or how badly he wanted to see you bend over when you wore a specific skirt. he tried to shake the thoughts of out his head - but it was no use.

"i-i didn't-" you stammered.

"shh," he assured you, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. honestly, i wish you'd said something sooner."

"...you do?" you asked, a little taken aback by his words.

"i do," he said softly, "so why don't we both stop pretending like this isn't bound to happen."

his hands trailed along your waist and your hips, before his grip on them became tighter. pulling you close, he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face. the both of you leaned in - but you placed your hands on his chest, stopping him.

"jim, wait," you say, looking up at the older man in front of you, "i-i can't- i don't do casual hookups. their just not-"

"your thing, i know. i wasn't trying to imply that this was just going to be that," he assures you once more, "i want you in more than just that way."

"o-okay," you almost whisper, "me too."

he doesn't offer a verbal response, but rather gives your ass a tight squeeze whilst his lips came crashing down on yours. instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck as he backs you up into the kitchen counter. recklessly, his lips still locked with yours, he hoisted you up onto the kitchen island. for a moment, both of you break away from the kiss with pink-tinted cheeks.

the thrill of kissing a man so much older than you (who also happened to be your best friends dad) was getting you worked up, and judging by the tent in his pants; it was getting him worked up, too. gently, he helped you out of your hoodie and sweats. you felt a shiver go up your spine as your ass rested on the cold granite of the counter, and he bit down on his lip at sight. with all your clothes discarded, you sat pretty for his taking on the counter with your pink, lacy bra and matching pink thong.

"look at you," he groaned, "so pretty, princess."

clearly, neither of you could even wait to take it to the bedroom. so, with adrenaline running through your veins, you help him out of his sweater and he reaches for his belt buckle. he pulls you into another heated kiss, this time one of his hands coming up to your throat to give it a soft squeeze. as he choked you gently, you moaned into his mouth, the action driving him insane.

he pulled away from the kiss and you felt his tip poke at your folds. you look down for a moment, and you could see him stroking himself with one hand as he lined his cock up with your entrance while the other hand rested gently around your throat.

before he put it in, he looked at you to make sure that this was okay, though he didn't say a word. you gave him a small, affirming nod and he rubbed the head of his cock against your wetness before plunging his cock in, taking you on the kitchen counter.

you let out a gasp as his veiny cock filled you, and he groaned at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in. his hand quickly came off of your neck and down to your waist, his other hand doing the same. as his hands found purchase on your waist, he started to move in and out slowly, letting you adjust.

"j-jim," you moaned, throwing your head back, "ugh, feels so good."

"yeah?" he groaned, thrusting in and out much faster now, "d'you hear how wet you are, princess?"

when he mentioned it, your cheeks burned as your eyes rolled to the back of your head from his cock pounding your cunt. you could hear it - your pussy was dripping, and it was evident by the squelching sounds in the quiet kitchen.

"s-so wet, just for you- fuuuuck-" you whimper as his cock hit all the right spots inside of you.

one of jim's hands snaked up to your breasts, roughly kneading it and making you moan. you drooling hole started to squeeze down onto his fat cock, making him lose his breath. the both of you were chasing your highs and getting closer by the second.

"f-fuck, you're so tight, m'gonna fill this tight little pussy up." he decided, fucking into you deeply as he took you on his kitchen countertop.

"so close, jim, s-so mmph, close!" you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure consumed you and the coil inside of your stomach snapped.

"thaaaats it," he praised, "keep squeezing me like that, princess."

you bit your lip and moaned at the way he was talking, and he felt himself tip over the edge as he spilled into you with a groan. his hips continued to buck into you for a few more moments, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into your aching cunt.

after you both came down from your highs, he pulled his softening cock out of you. he watched with a sigh at the sight your pretty pussy which was now dripping with his cum. swiftly, he got a towel and started to wipe it up for you. he was taking his time and making sure you were taken care of afterwards, of course.

"how are you feeling?" he asked softly, wiping his seed that was dripping out from your cunt.

"a little sleepy," you admitted with a half-lidded smile, "and a little hungry."

"how about i run you a bath?" he suggested, laughing softly, "and then i'll order us some takeout from that italian place you like down on 47th and main."

"you know my favourite takeout place?" you giggle.

"obviously i do," he admits with a chuckle, "you told me a few months ago, remember?"

"well, yeah. i just didn't expect you to actually remember." you say with a sigh, and he pulls you into a chaste kiss.

"of course i remember, how could i forget?" he smiles after giving you a small peck, "so, does that sound good? a bath and your favourite takeout? then you can sleep in my bed tonight with me."

"first of all, that sounds wonderful, baby," you say, casually throwing the pet name in, "and secondly, can you join me in the bath, pretty please?"

he smiled as you called him baby, "i can't say no to that, princess."

"good." you say, beaming up at him.

true to his word, he did run you two a hot bath which you both enjoyed. after your steamy bath, he ordered your favourite food and the two of you laughed and cuddled on the couch whilst sharing a bottle of your favourite wine. after the two of you finished, you were both sleepy. as you and jim slipped into bed, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, giving you a kiss on the head before you both fell asleep.

the next morning, the two of you were still tangled in the sheets together, cuddled up in the blankets all cozy. cassie had returned sometime in the early hours just before sunrise, and as she made her way up the stairs, she noticed her dads bedroom door was cracked open slightly. she paid no mind to it - until she caught a glimpse of you in his bed with him.

doing a double take, she poked her head into his bedroom to find the both of you peacefully asleep. your head was resting on his chest as his arms were draped over you, the both of you looking so content.

cassie smiled and shook her head, laughing quietly to herself as she made her way back to her own room. contrary to what most peoples reactions would be; she wasn't mad. in fact, she kind of saw it coming in hindsight and hey, if you made him happy and he was good to you, then so be it.

though the both of you seemed oblivious to it, everyone else could see that you were perfect for him, and he was perfect for you.

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#cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fluff #jim the delinquent season #jim x reader #the delinquent season

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hansensgirl · 1 year

Text

🪽— 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱

summary. | Steve Rogers is a good man. You’re a good woman. Emotional affairs are harder than they seem.

pairings. | Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter, fem!reader x OMC (brief), Peggy Carter x Daniel Sousa

warnings. | ANGST, light smut, allusions to sex, cheating, emotional affairs, pregnancy (not the reader), crying, bad family, sadness, age gap, power dynamics (boss x employee), Christmas, heavy petting, kissing, broken vase (accidentally), sadness, drinking, smoking, nightmares, mild argument, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~2.5k

author's note. | hi! i'm sort of back. i'm very sorry for my hiatus. here's a new fic! this is based on the lyrics from Phoebe Bridgers' Savior Complex, which is one of my favourite songs of all time. let me know what you think! taglist: @hansensfics. i might delete this one, but please don’t save it or upload it anywhere. thanks! MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

He’s your boss. You work directly under him.

He isn’t bossy. Really, it’s an issue. Every time he gives you a task, he says ‘sorry’ first and finishes the order with another apology. You tell him he doesn’t have to apologize, but you’ve got the same problem as well. It’s always atonement for something you haven’t even done. You wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it hurt him.

Mr. Rogers is very nice. He has a secret office that he lets you stay in whenever you want. There’s a couch from one country and a desk from another. Each item is foreign in this room.

You’re always so tired, but he tells you to avoid caffeine. He gives you a blanket and tells you to lie down. You listen at first but can never relax. Not when you know he’ll be alone.

The honesty was a mistake at first. Mr. Rogers is so sensitive that he feels what you feel. He knows you so well that if something’s wrong, he’ll bother you until confession. You tell him almost anything, biting your tongue when you know you get too close to baring your entire soul.

The male friend of yours who keeps asking you out. The exams you study for to no avail. Your parents’ absence. Mr. Rogers—Steve, he insists—is a good listener and very wise. It makes sense. He’s much older than you and was on his own adventures when you were born.

The adventures are where he met his wife. Her name is Margaret, and she’s everything you aren’t. She’s headstrong and beautiful beyond words. She’s good with numbers and brilliant. She knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get them.

Peggy is a real keeper. The wedding rings on their fingers prove this well.

Nothing more than a few kisses and caresses have intertwined you and Steve. Nothing physical, at least.

You’re quiet around him. Never say anything more than a sentence. You shy away when your eyes met, especially if he says something sweet.

Words take up the space as you grow closer. Steve is particularly good with words, whereas you often stutter and blend words together.

And sometimes, there is complete silence. It’s contentful. He replies to emails, and you sort through the pile of mess in the corner.

You tell him your dreams, and he tells you the ones he’s already fulfilled. What he studied in school, his family, his friends, his favourite country he’s been to. Nothing about Peggy—neither of you can bear it.

Unless she’s done something that’s hurt his feelings—like when she swears she doesn’t talk to Daniel Sousa anymore, but he hears them calling late at night.

Sometimes, Steve talks for so long that it gets dark, and your shift is over. He pays you extra—or, at least, tries to. You never take the money because nothing was lost. You enjoy the little time you have with him.

He takes you home, wanting you to avoid walking down the street in the pitch-black evening.

His car is a mess—the same as his office. He apologizes sincerely and pushes everything in the front seat to the back. The directions consist of “take a left” and “keep going straight.” You assume he’ll forget it. You don’t know how much this means to him.

Steve stays parked outside your building when you rush to your room. You live on the bottom floor and are right by the entrance. You’re a movie’s heroine when you throw yourself on your bed and giggle, butterflies filling your stomach.

He is something. The scriptwriter has Steve’s dialogue under his name but with “CHARACTER: TBA” in parentheses. No one knows if the film will be completed. No one knows how it will end.

Mr. Rogers stays parked outside, forehead resting against his steering wheel, and he’s trying to get a hold of his nerves.

Eventually, he grabs his pack of cigarettes that he always hides from Peggy. She often reminds him of his mother—without the sagacity. She tells Steve what he should or shouldn’t do a lot. He hasn’t lived since he breathed you in.

He smokes with the windows up, tears flowing down his face because he knows this can’t happen. He cannot betray his wife, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

Steve comes to you on a starry night. You can see the moon and something else twinkling through the trees, and he rings your doorbell.

When you open the door, he’s a large man cowering like a small child. He wants to cry—you can tell. His mouth is in a frown that won’t disappear, and his eyes are glassy.

He’s drunk when he practically falls on top of you. He is slurring apologies that you know are unnecessary. His breath smells of whiskey, and he’s very heavy. You’ve fantasized about him on top of you during restless sleeps, but not quite like this.

Somehow, you crawl out from underneath the older, married man. You know it would be fruitless to lift Steve up, so you drag him to your bedroom.

You keep the door to the bathroom open and bring a bucket as well. The water on your bedside table is his now, and so is the charger and landline. Anything he wants of yours, he can have. He doesn’t even have to ask.

It’s hard to sleep when the one you desire so profoundly is in your bed, sadder than he should be. He drifts off with ease, but he’s violent in his tossing and turning. He shines with sweat and tears, soaking your sheets with his scent. You’re not sure if you’ll wash them. It’s a nightmare you can’t rouse him from, one that you don’t dare to ask him about the next morning.

Steve must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed. It’s small, too small for his big being. Or maybe it’s his hangover—perhaps even hunger. You offer to make whatever, but he grumbles.

He’s not sure why he’s taking his disappointment out on you. He wasn’t trying to test you, but you should’ve turned him away. You should’ve told him to go back home to his wife with her expected child inside her womb, but you don’t know this terrible secret. If you did, it would tear you apart from the inside out. This, he knows, for sure.

Mr. Rogers doesn’t say much to you in the morning, drinking two cups of coffee and staring out the window. You sit across him, and he looks past your face—the very visage he can never seem to tear his eyes away from.

“You shouldn’t have let me stay,” he finally says.

“Why not?” you ask, “you came here yourself. I could never turn you away.”

“You need to. You need to go out and, I don’t know, spend time with boys your age. Boys who don’t have wives or girlfriends they won’t leave you for.”

You flinch as if he’s raised one of his gentle hands.

Steve sighs. “That’s not what I meant. I think the lines between us have blurred. We’re not doing the right thing here, honey.”

You can’t look up, can’t face him. You wish this wasn’t the topic. You wish he had told you about his dream instead, and you would have told him yours. The one where he leaves you, the one where he gets his happy ever after with Peggy, and you get nothing.

He gives you a kiss on the head and bids you goodbye. You’re happy you have a day off tomorrow.

It’s almost Christmas, about two weeks since the conversation. Steve tries to make things seem normal. Normal in the sense that he hasn’t made his employee fall hopelessly in love with him. Then, normal in the sense that Peggy doesn’t exist, and he can still keep you in his arms until a customer comes in.

You go on dates with your guy friend like Mr. Rogers has insisted, but they’re unfulfilling. He often prefers to stay home and rent a movie, followed by sloppy kisses and dry humping that is unsatisfactory for only you.

“You don’t have to go out with only him,” Steve reminds you one day. You’re in his lap and he’s just finished reading through his entire diary with you. Most pages are about the employee he’s infatuated with, few are about his wife.

“I know. I just don’t want anyone else but you,” you tell him.

Moments later, his mouth is on your neck and his hand is up your skirt. You’re just about to come when a delivery man walks in, calling your boss’ name.

The shop is closed for a week, and your father has invited you to visit him and his new family. Your step-sisters are older and runway-ready. They have wonderful jobs and husbands that aren’t seeing women younger than them.

It’s like a closed practice. An event you can only watch from afar. You have no place here, even if your stepmother cleaned the guest room for you. You book a new plane ticket so you can go home early. You don’t make an excuse because they don’t even ask why; they just bid you goodbye.

You land at a horrible hour. There are too many taxis that families need—families trying to have a nice, hurt-free holiday.

And so you call Steve, and he answers on the first ring.

“Hello?” he greets, and you can sense some kind of anxiety in his voice.

“Um, hi. Happy holidays,” you tell him, nervous beyond belief as well.

His voice is smooth like honey, crooning in your frost-bitten ear.

“Happy holidays, baby,” he says. Peggy isn’t nearby.

“Uh, I’m at the airport. I was with my dad’s family, but I left. I don’t know how to get home. All the taxis are taken up.”

“I’m on my way, okay? Just sit tight, sweetie.”

“Thank you,” you exhale, “thank you so much, Steve.”

“Anything for my girl.”

When he arrives, he finds a place to quickly park. He takes your sole suitcase out of your hands and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

It’s sudden.

Mr. Rogers—your boss, a married man—is kissing you like you’re his only lover. Like he’s your boyfriend, and he’s missed you dearly.

You lean in for more, and he pulls away. Smiling, he opens the car door for you.

He takes the long way home, the ones with few cars driving alongside.

“I didn’t know you left,” he eventually says.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It was a last-minute thing.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. I went to your place to say ‘hi,’ but no one was home.”

“I should’ve told you. I really am sorry,” you profess.

Steve places a finger on your mouth, shushing you. His hand moves to cup your cheek, and you push your face further into his palm.

“Thank you for picking me up,” you whisper, looking at him intently.

“I’m glad you called me. I missed you. I would do anything for you.”

You say nothing to that. You turn the radio on and the last song is one you recommended to him. You both hum the lyrics until it ends, and he turns it off.

“I always enjoy it when you drive me,” you confess after a while.

“Oh yeah? Why?” he smiles.

“You’re careful. You don’t go too fast or slow. You know what you’re doing. You’re such a pro at it,” you explain, slightly self-conscious of your reasoning.

“That all?” Steve teases, raising his eyebrows.

“Hm… No… I love your hands.” You giggle.

“Yeah? I know you do, baby. Always starin’ at them. I bet you think of them touching you all the time,” he rasps, briefly letting go of the wheel to rub at his beard.

You squeeze your thighs, mind already turning with scenarios where Steve touches you like a starved man.

His hand on your face moves back to your mouth, thumb swiping your bottom lip before pushing in. You suck on the digit, giving it the treatment you would to his cock. When you reach out to touch him, the car suddenly halts.

He stops on the side of the road, eyes watering. Regret etches his features, and you know what’s to come.

“We can’t,” Steve says, pulling his finger out. “Not yet, at least.”

“I know” is all you have to give.

Peggy visits the store in early March. Underneath her shirt is a small baby bump.

When you see it, your heart stops.

Steve brushes past you to lead her away, examining your face for hurt. You’re behind the shelves and watch the couple, your mouth parted with your eyes threatening to leak. You turn and head towards the back, choosing to hide somewhere so you can fall apart in solitude.

Mr. Rogers watches as you leave. He wishes you would look back and give him something, anything. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to hurt you this way. But he did, and he will try to make it right.

Peggy leaves eventually, and Steve closes the store early. He searches for you, listening for a sniffle or movement.

You sit on the floor, a broken vase next to you. He quickly nudges the debris away so you don’t get hurt.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says, looking down at you. You look up, eyes bloodshot, and you stare at him with something he can’t place. He envelopes you in a hug, and you can feel his erratic heart clamouring against your face.

“Come with me to the office, please,” Steve begs.

You shake your head.

“You ask too much of me, Steve. You have a wife and an innocent child on the way. We can’t keep doing this.”

“No, no. Please, just come. Please, honey,” he pleads once more. “At least hit me, yell at me, tell me to go fuck myself.”

“Why would I? I’m happy for you. You’re getting what you’ve always wanted.” Your voice cracks, and you force a smile. Steve sees through it all.

“No. I want you—I love you. But I don’t have you, do I? Listen, I’ll leave her. I’ll still be a good father, even though I know that’s not my kid at all. We’ll go elsewhere. Move into a nice home and do whatever we want,” he rambles.

Strong Mr. Rogers breaks apart in front of you. You take him into your arms, and you both cry together.

You’re the one that leads him to his office. You sit on the couch with him and notice that his wedding band is gone. He always wears it when Peggy comes by, but he didn’t this time.

“That night you took me in—I dreamt of you. I dreamt you weren’t mine, and you didn’t love me anymore. I messed something up and didn’t fix it. It was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had,” Steve admits.

You don’t say anything. As much as the whole ordeal hurts you, as terrible as what you’ve done to a woman and her child, you can’t let Steve go. Neither can he. It’ll have to end someday, just not now. Not yet.

#steve rogers #captain america #fanfiction #angst #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #marvel #chris evans

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generalhumancloudalmond · 5 months

Text

The quartet

Platonic!Arlecchino x Traveller!Reader x Platonic!Lyney, Lynette, Freminet

When Arlecchino left the office, she was greeted by almost absolute silence, only the snoring and quiet snuffling of tired children interrupted her. To be honest, the harbinger liked this sight, since most of the children did not plan to fall asleep after lunch and from this they lay not only in unnatural poses, but also in the most unexpected places.

Foltz, for example, was lying in the dining room with his face buried in the table. Even the older children couldn't resist going to bed in the afternoon. So, her gaze slipped to your quartet lying by the fireplace. With a quick glance, it was difficult to understand where whose legs and arms were, so her eyes stopped a little longer, although she knows perfectly well that an excessively long look can disturb the light sleep of some children.

You lies in the middle, a Freminet lies neatly on the right, he slightly nuzzled your shoulder, while holding his faithful friend Per. Lynette lies a little apart on the left, her tail gently wrapped around your leg, when she herself almost does not touch you. And to top it all off, Lyney... It was as if he wanted to hug everyone at once. He was sleeping in the tiny space between you and Lynette, one of his hands reaching straight for Freminet through your face, the other holding Lynette's hand.

Exhaling softly, Arlecchino goes to the fireplace and calmly extinguishes it. Her gaze goes back to your pile. She notices how you open your sleepy eyes and squint at her for a couple of seconds, after which you turn over on your other side, throwing your leg over the Freminet.

What a tangible difference there is between your first day at the House of the Hearth and this one. In the first days, you were especially careful with her and the other children, but now you have become much more trusting. And trust is an important and indispensable component of any family.

However, she should definitely return to her duties as soon as possible, and not linger here idly. However one from your pile noticed her.

"Father?..."

"I'm going out on business, Lyney. There are no missions for your quartet today. However, it would be nice if you could improve the calligraphy of Y/n, because the last report was given to me was hard to understand."

"Yes, Father."

Lyney answered sleepily, looking at Arlecchino leaving. When the door quietly closed, Lynette's voice was heard.

"Did Father just call us a quartet again?"

#reader #platonic #platonic genshin impact #genshin x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #platonic Lyney #platonic Lynette #platonic Freminet #arlecchino genshin #genshin lyney #lynette #freminet #genshin impact

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Note

REQUEST

Y'know, Hobie n R hit the boombahya, now the twins are getting a li'l bro? :3

The twins could be like, 4-5 years old now, maybe?

Yeesss new baby alert!! Thank you, roze ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, mom! Reader, dad! Hobie, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, dad AU, fluff

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie's nervous, and it's not because he's scared for you because you're in labour and actively pushing out a whole new human being, that was hours ago, all the blood and sweat have been wiped clean and the baby now presumably sleeps in your arms. And it's not because he's scared of having a new kid, he's way past that phase thanks to your help. No, it's not because of those things why his hands are so clammy, he's scared whether or not his girls, his first babies will get along with the new addition to the family. Especially when they wanted a baby sister.

He flicks his eyes upwards towards the rearview mirror to check on the girls. Their legs dangle off the car seat that they've quickly outgrown. They should be out of it in a few years, but he's sure he won't be ready to face the fact that the squishy cheeked babies he used to carry around all time are now eight years old with their long legs they both inherited from him. The new baby car seat sits between them, all shiny and new, awaiting the new baby.

They eat their chips and ice cream happily, a little treat he bought for them to soften the blow of the news. Ramona hums a tune, a nervous habit of hers. Her, or your cardigan for the matter sits largely on her frame, sparkly trainers shining in the early morning light. While Billie eats her ice cream cone like she hasn't eaten in days. Like Mona, she also sports one of your jackets, a frilly one that you used to wear back when you and Hobie were just friends. They clearly miss you after just a couple of days in hospital.

Hobie unclasps his seat belt, twisting around his seat to speak to them, like a zoo keeper facing lions, he gingerly takes a chip, waiting for their protest.

“Dad!” Billie reacts first, “I was eating that.”

“And I bought it.” He annoyingly chews to lighten the mood.

Mona lifts her eyes from her melting ice cream to her dad. Always the more perceptive one, she senses his nerves. “Is mum okay?” Her tone makes Billie take a whole 180 on her emotions.

“What– why would she not be okay?” Billie turns to her dad, tone soft and clearly terrified at the thoughts rolling in her mind. “Dad, mum is okay, right?”

“She's fine, Mac,” He can see the relief on their faces. “just— she's knackered, pushing the baby out tired was hard, so can you two promise me that you'll be extra careful with her and the baby?”

They look at each other for a second before nodding. “Okay,” they say simultaneously. Hobie's used to their synchronization.

“Good,” he pats both of their knees. “Ready to head out and meet your sibling?”

“Yes!” Billi exclaims, the ‘s’ sound prolonged.

Mona finishes her ice cream in one gulp, brain freeze evident on her face. The same expression you get whenever you bite into your ice cream. He can't wait to see you too, it's only been a few hours since he left your side but it feels like a year.

Wincing, Mona smiles, showing off her dimples and pearly whites. “I'm good!”

“Let's go then.” Hobie doesn't need to help them with their car seat, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't miss it. All he does now is open and close the doors for them, he feels all nostalgic. He hopes he gets the same feeling when his boy gets the same age as his girls.

Locking the car, Billie skips ahead while Mona takes her dad's hand wordlessly. “Bee!” She yells after her sister. “Look both ways!”

Billie stops in her tracks to check her left and right. Then she tosses a thumbs up behind her, continuing her way towards the entrance of the hospital.

“D’you think we need a leash for your sister?” He tuge at Mona's hand jokingly.

“Leashes aren't nice, dad, they hinder us from our freedom to move around.” She says seriously, or as seriously a eight year old can sound like.

“That's my girl.” Hobie grins down.

“Learned from the best.” She beams up at him, he can't believe that she grew up looking more like you when everyone thought she looked like him when she was a baby. “Aunty Yuri taught me that.”

Hobie scrunches his nose. “You ruined it, cheese.” She clearly knows what she's doing based on her cheeky grin. He's her kid alright.

“Dad! Elevator!” Billie, in her blue overalls, holds the elevator doors open. “Hurry!” She stomps her foot impatiently.

“Alright, we're comin’” Entering the elevator, Billie seems to be jumping all over the walls. Maybe he shouldn't have given them ice cream.

Her eyes flit over the various medical posters inside the elevator, feet unconsciously doing a little dance.

Mona tugs at Hobie's hand, beaded bracelets clinking against each other. “You look knackered, dad.” His heart melts.

Patting her head, Hobie's hand is big enough to cover her entire head. Her curls stick out in-between his fingers and the ribbons she hastily tied around her hair. “I am, dovey. But I'll be alright, mum and my babies come first, yeah?”

“But who'll take care of you?” Her eyes gloss over. Billie heard the conversation through her fog of excitement. She holds the sleeve of Hobie's leather jacket like she always does when she's unsure.

He whispers, hands on both of their heads. “I'm Spiderman, innit? If I can handle lizard on my worst day, I can handle this.”

Mona thinks for a second. She smiles once she gets an idea. “Then we'll watch over you then!”

“Mm-hmm!” Billie agrees, “Like mum always does!”

Hobie would've embraced his girls until he lets all his love for them out, but the ring of the doors opening cuts him off. With a sniff, he feels the tears behind his eyes once again.

“You two are already better at this than me,” he softly says as he leads them out of the lift. He has no idea why he worried so much.

Walking past the nurse’s station, both of his babies are holding each of his hands now, hopping and skipping happily. Their curls bounce cutely, getting a nurse’s attention. Hobie recognizes her as one of the nurses that attended to you.

“You two are adorable!” She coos, “d’you girls want a lolly?” Shaking a jar full of colourful lollipops, surprisingly, the girls shake their heads.

“No, thank you, Mum and dad said to not accept any candies from strangers.” Mona puffs out her chest bravely. Her sister agrees, nodding along to her words.

Hobie chuckles whilst the nurse does the same. “It's alright, love, I know her, go take some.” He urges them, still a tad apprehensive, Billie takes one for the team, taking two lollies. Yellow for her, and green for Mona.

“Wait! What about the baby?” Mona exclaims,

Billie knits her eyebrows.

“I don't think your baby brother is allowed to have a lolly yet.” The nurse, naive to what she just revealed, returns back to her desk.

“What?!” They crane their neck up incredibly fast, shock on their faces, letting go of their dad's hand like they've been betrayed.

Hobie's ready to mitigate any tantrums, mouth opening to explain, the twins’ grins grow larger (and cuter) making their dad go through a rollercoaster of emotions.

“We have a baby brother?” Mona says giddily.

“Told you it would work!” Billie takes her sister's hand, bouncing up and down.

“What would work?” Hobie has never been more confused when it comes to his daughters.

“Reverse psychology!” They both speak at the same time.

“We keep saying that we want a baby sister but we actually wanted a brother! Now we've tricked mummy's belly to have a boy instead of a girl!” Billie explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Hobie doesn't have the heart to tell them that it doesn't work that way. He lets them be, guiding them towards your room as they celebrate their so-called win.

He smiles at them, nodding along. “Yeah, that's great, love— look at that we're here.” Knocking once, he opens the door with a creak.

Billie and Ramona stop from hopping around, peeking inside, they see you sitting up on the bed cradling a bundle of blue blanket.

You smile, shoulders sagging and finally able to relax. Eyes glistening from the mere sight of them alone, (you blame your hormones) you beckon them over.

“My babies,” you softly say, sniffing.

The distinct smell of disinfectant and clean linen immediately has Hobie on dad mode. He remembers the day the girls were born, all shaky legs and clammy hands as the doctor hands them over to him for the first time. Now he has one more bundle to carry, and now he's much more ready and experienced, yet his legs are still wobbly, and his hands are still sweaty. It's like he's back when he first carried his son even though it was just a few hours ago.

He guides Billie and Mona towards your bed, hands on their back, whispering to them. “Indoor voices, mac and cheese. We don't want to scare your brother.”

“Okay.” Mona nods. “Hi, mum, hi little brother.” She softly says, and you scooch to make space for them both on the bed so they could see him better. Mona lifts up her leg carefully, sitting down by your side, planting her face on your bicep. Eyes wide, she holds your hand where you hold your son's tiny leg. “He looks so much like dad. Especially his eyes.” Voice even softer now, you kiss her temple as thanks for being gentle.

Billie has a harder time though, Hobie senses her nerves, whether it's his spidey senses or his dad's intuition, he just knows. Billie is definitely nervous by how she bounces on the balls of her feet, and wrings her hands. He hasn't seen her this anxious since her first recital.

Hobie crouches down, hand on her shoulder, soothing her by mere touch alone. “You alright, Bee?” You watch the interaction in the corner of your eye. Mind still a bit foggy, body still aching, you'd help if not for those feelings.

“Will the baby like me?” She timidly asks her dad, frown deepening on her lips. “What if he hates me?”

“Impossible, angel.” Hobie rubs her back, “he listened to your voice while he was still in mum's belly, and he always moved and wiggled around whenever he heard you. I know he loves you, just like how your mum and I knew that you and Mona would love each other.”

Billie, still his little girl, hugs him right on the spot. Little arms wrapped around his neck, nerves melting off her. Just like how Hobie used to do, he lifts her up, carrying her to your bed.

She sits down right next to her sister, frown immediately gone the moment she lays her eyes on her brother. “He’s so fat.” Giggling, Billie looks at you with the same adoration. “You made him fat, mum.”

You beam at her, you'd embrace both of them if your hands aren't occupied by the sleeping newborn. “It’s because of all the bread and pasta I ate.” Billie and Mona laugh softly, continuing to coo at their brother. Billie sniffs at the blanket, whispering something that sounds like ‘new baby smell.’

Tilting your head at Hobie, eyes tender, you smile at him. Grinning back, he holds your head, placing a heavy kiss on your forehead.

“I was the one who made you all that pasta and bread, you blamin’ me, love?” He says the joke against your temple.

“I'm feeling nice today, so I'm blaming us both. I blame my cravings and I blame you for indulging me.” Moving your head without moving your body to not disturb the baby, (which was a challenge,) you pucker your lips, waiting for him to move. “Told you they'd love him.”

“I should've never doubted you.” With a dramatic sigh, he leans down to kiss you properly.

Now for the next challenge, naming their son. Billie and Mona are already whispering ideas, which includes names ranging from their favourite cartoon characters to even naming them after their uncles. You and Hobie watch on while the baby sleeps soundly, and while your girls argue quietly.

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 7 months

Note

could you do ethan x fem reader smut where they aren’t allowed to see each other due to their families feuding??

like real romeo and juliet kind of this where he climbs up into the window while she’s doing skincare or something. i can literally imagine them just talking about how much they missed each other (because they aren’t allowed to be together) then it ends up escalating into like dom ethan smut 😋😋

sorry if that’s confusing!!

Hi! I hope you like this!💕 I had the worst writers block for the last few days and I'm trying to get back into it haha

Check Yes, Juliet - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your forbidden to see Ethan after some drama between your family and his, so he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.

Contains: Fluff, a hint of angst, Dom!-ish Ethan(Nothing super rough), I used "good girl" in this because I feel like Ethan would totally say that. oral - m and f receiving, p in v, Unprotected sex(Pulling out though:) Jesus, If I missed anything, let me know 💕

A/N: Ya girl loves pop-punk, especially from the 2000's so that's where I got the title for this lmao.

You grew up with Ethan, quickly becoming best friends because your parents were so close to his…until they weren’t. They had this huge falling out after Richie’s killing spree in Woodsboro. When you were both told you couldn’t see each other, you rebelled, and it only made the two of you even closer. So close that it turned into a secret relationship.

During summer break before you were both getting ready to start college, it got so much harder to see Ethan. Your mom worked from home, and your dad saved up his PTO so he could take time off to spend time with you before you left for university. It was the same one Ethan was going to, and you felt a little relieved that you’d finally have the opportunity to be with him without worrying about what your parents thought. They probably wouldn’t even let you go if they found out he was going to the same school, especially after they forced you to block his number and all of his social media. Ethan found his way around it because he couldn’t just not talk to you.

You’d just gotten home from dinner with your parents, excusing yourself to get ready for bed. You were so tired after a long day with them, and you couldn’t wait to talk to Ethan. You had this app your parents had no idea that you used to message him. You let him know that you were home, and waited for him to respond as you took your makeup off.

When he messaged you back, your eyes widened, wondering if he was crazy when he said he was outside of your house. You walked over to your window and opened the curtain to see your boyfriend standing in your front yard, a sweet smile on his lips as you quietly opened the window.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you whisper-yelled, as he held his finger up to your mouth for you to be quiet. He walked over to the tree beside your window, easily climbing up it as he made his way to you. “Ethan, this is crazy,” you said, as he crawled inside, his feet hitting the floor harder than he expected them to. You soon heard someone running up the stairs. “Shit. Hide under my bed.”

“You okay, sweetheart?” your mom asked as she opened the door. She glanced at the opened window behind you, a curious look on her face as she turned her attention back to you.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just tripped over the pile of laundry I’ve been refusing to put away,” you lied, as she rolled her eyes.

“I told you to clean that up. Goodness, I thought someone broke in here when I saw the open window,” she said, doing a double take of the room.

“No, I tripped on the way to close it. I forgot to before we left earlier,” you said, as she nodded. “I need to get some sleep if we’re getting up early tomorrow.”

“Okay, don’t forget to set your alarm. Wake up as early as you need to. Your dad is sleeping with the sound machine, so we won’t hear it,” she said, as you innocently smiled at her. You could only imagine the ideas your boyfriend had running through his head as he listened to your mom. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you said, as she walked back out of the room, closing the door behind her.

You quietly walked over to the door and locked it as Ethan crawled out from under your bed.

“Hey, baby,” he said, walking up behind you and wrapping his hands around your waist. “I missed you so much.”

You turned in his arms to face him, “Ethan, have you lost your mind? If you get caught in here, we’re dead.”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he said, pulling his hands off you. “I can’t believe this shit. We’re both eighteen and we’re still letting our parents control our lives.”

You sighed as you reached over to grab his hands and place them back on his hips before putting yours around his neck. “I am happy to see you, babe. I just don’t want our parents to not pay for school. That’s the only thing that’s kept us apart.”

“We could always run away together,” he said, before leaning down to kiss you. “I’d rather drown in student loan debt than keep doing this shit.”

“Just three more weeks. We’ll be a few hours from here with no parents to keep their eye on us,” you smiled, “Just think of all the dates, all the fun things we can do-“

“All the sex we can have,” he said, cutting you off as his hands started to rub against your hips. You started to blush as you thought about it. “We could do that right now…,” he suggested, gently squeezing you. “As hot as the nudes are that you send me, you have no idea how bad I’ve been craving the real thing.” He leaned down to start placing kisses on your neck, making you whimper. “I can’t wait to taste that sweet pussy.”

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped out, as his hand started to rub your pussy over your pajama bottoms.

“I know you missed this, too. How many times have you fingered yourself and wished they were mine?” he questioned, sliding his hand inside your pajama shorts. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“My fingers aren’t as good as yours,” you whimpered, as he slid one of his fingers inside you. He angled his hand just right so he could hit that spot inside of you, your legs almost giving out when he pressed against it hard enough. “Can you use two?”

He started to laugh a little, “You can barely stand up with one. I don’t know if you can handle two.”

“We could go to my bed,” you suggested, as he shook his head.

“No, babe,” he said, pulling his hand out and backing you up against the door. He slid your pajama shorts and panties down at the same time before he dropped to his knees in front of you. “Put your leg on my shoulder,” he said, as your eyes grew wide.

“What if I hurt you? Or what if I fall? My mom will definitely come back up here if she hears anything else,” you said, your tone nervous as Ethan smiled up at you.

“You’ll still have one foot on the ground. And you can put as much weight on me as you need to. I just need your legs spread enough for me to eat you out, babe.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, before doing what he asked. He teased your clit with his tongue before he started to sloppily eat you out. “Baby, that feels so good.”

One of your hands tangled in his hair as he pleasured you, making him groan into your pussy.

He kept going until your legs started to shake, letting him know how close you were. He pulled his mouth away as you pouted in response.

“I’m going to get you off, baby. Hang on,” he said, gently sliding your leg off him so you could fully stand up. He stood up in front of you, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy. You grabbed his shirt, pulling his body closer to you yours as he fingered you.

“I’m so close,” you whimpered, his face inches from yours. “I’m so scared I’m going to be loud.”

“Shh, you won’t be,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. His mouth caught all your sounds as his fingers pressed harder on that spongy spot inside you. His free hand went to your hip to hold you against the door as your walls started to flutter around his fingers. You were tugging on his shirt so hard you knew you’d stretch it as the feeling washed over you, your legs turning to jell-o as he got you through it.

He pulled his mouth away from yours after you stopped whimpering, your hazy eyes connecting to his dark ones. Your hand reached down to start palming him over his jeans, the feeling making him gasp.

“Let me return the favor,” you smirked, dropping to your knees in front of him. He watched you, his breathing getting heavier after you freed his hard cock from his boxers.

You lazily started to stroke him as you looked at him through your lashes, your bottom lip in between your teeth. You looked so innocent in front of him, but he knew you were far from that.

“Look at you, being such a good girl down on your knees for me,” he said, running his hand through your hair. You whimpered at his praise, your pussy starting to throb. You leaned forward, licking the underside of his cock before swirling your tongue over his tip. “You seriously give the best head.”

He meant what he was saying, but he also knew what his praising did to you. Some of his best orgasms have come from you just sucking his cock, especially when he praised you the whole way through it.

You started to take him further into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. “Yeah, baby, just like that,” Ethan said, his grip tightening on your hair once his tip was far enough back to make you gag. “You make me feel so good.”

It didn’t take long for tears to be streaming down your cheeks from all the gagging, his cock soaked in your saliva as he started to thrust into your mouth. You knew he was close, his groans getting whinier.

“Fuck, that perfect mouth is going to make me cum,” he said, “Where do you want it?”

You grabbed the back of his thighs to keep him close, letting him know that you wanted him to cum in your mouth. His thrusts started to get erratic as he groaned, releasing into your mouth. His hand in your hair was shaky as your mouth kept moving, the slight overstimulation feeling so good for him.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he said after a few more seconds. When you pulled away, your chin was covered in your spit as you wiped it on the back of your hand. “Did you like that?”

“Mhm,” you said sweetly, nodding as you took your shirt off.

“This sweet, innocent shit you do during sex just does something to me,” he groaned, pulling his own shirt off.

“Oh yeah? What does it do to you?” you asked, as you laid down on your bed to wait for him.

“It makes me want to not take it easy on you, because I know you can take it,” he smirked, as your hands started to massage your breasts.

“What if I can’t take it?” you asked, your voice soft as he stared you down.

“Then I’ll make you take it,” he said, as he crawled on the bed beside you. “You know if you tell me to stop, I will, but I think you’ll just beg me to go faster or fuck you harder.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, as you felt his hand cup over your pussy. “Just don’t make me be too loud.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he said, as he started to crawl on top of you. Your legs instinctively spread for him as you waited for him to fuck you, but he just teased you. He dipped the tip of his cock inside you, then pulled it out to rub it against your clit. He kept doing it until you finally started to whine. “You want it?” he asked, smirking at you as you started to squirm.

“I fucking need it,” you said, your eyes pleading with his. “Please, baby.”

“Only cause you asked so nicely,” he said, as he stuck more than the head of his cock inside of you, the feeling of him stretching you out making you moan. “So fucking tight,” he gasped, filling you up further with each small thrust, until he was fully inside of you.

He wanted to tease you with slow thrusts, but he couldn’t. You felt so amazing around him as his hips started to move faster.

“That feel good?” he asked, as you moaned in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You were wrapping your legs around him so he could go deeper when he pulled them away, pressing your thighs against your tummy. The new position had him hitting the right spot, his cock filling you so good that you couldn’t hold in your whimpers.

“So deep,” you moaned, as his face tensed up, a feral look in his eyes as he started to pound into you. “Oh fuck!”

“That’s it, baby. You can take it,” he grunted. Your jaw dropped as you were on the edge of your orgasm. “Fuck, you’re already squeezing my cock. You gonna cum?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, as you felt your legs being spread a little from the position he had them in.

“Rub your clit, baby,” he said, as both of his hands on the back of your thighs gripped you tighter. You did as he said, the euphoric feeling hitting you so hard that you cried out. “Fuck,” Ethan groaned, “Try to be quiet, baby.”

“I can’t” you whimpered, as he chased his own orgasm.

“Bite your lip, cover your mouth, do something. I’m so close,” he said, “I thought you didn’t want us to get caught.”

“I, fuck..I don’t,” you got out between your whimpers.

“Gonna cum,” he said, pulling his cock out and shooting his cum all over your thighs. His eyes kept fluttering as he caught his breath. “I need to find something to get this off you.” You felt his release start to drip down your thighs, towards your ass.

“Uh, I have tissues on my dresser,” you suggested, as he took a couple more deep breaths.

“I can’t wait to do this all the time with you,” he said, as he stood up to grab some tissues.

“Yeah, because dorm sex is going to happen all the time,” you joked, as he smiled.

“I don’t know, maybe my roommate will be cool,” he said, cleaning you up. “Shit, I’ll get to introduce you to people as my girlfriend.”

“You can’t wait for that, can you?” you asked, smiling at him as he shook his head.

“For real though, I think I’ll get so used to spending all my free time with you that I’ll just lose my mind whenever we’re home on break,” he sighed, throwing the tissues away before he laid down beside you.

“You could always just sneak through my window again.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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yongility · 5 months

Text

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 4/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

warning for his chapter: cursing, verbal fight, fight. Small smut part teehee lol (back of the car make out, dry humping, fingering, just that by now) psd: not so good at smut I think, but if you want more for the next chapter, lemme know, you ask… I’ll deliver)

word count: +10k? Not proofread!!!

After Chris peeled out the tires of his car, it didn't take Jaehyun long to approach his brother and (Y/N) to drag Jeno inside the house, with (Y/N) walking worriedly behind them.

Anger coursed through Jaehyun's body, and he wasn't even sure who he was angry at anymore, was it towards Jeno or that for that idiot of Chris? He knew he couldn't make his brother understand, but what the hell was he doing to make all this happen? He wanted to yell at him, to confront him, but he didn't want to make a scene in front of (Y/N), so he closed his eyes and paced around the room, breathing deeply to try to calm himself.

The girl went to the kitchen and after finding the first rag she could, she dampened it before returning to Jeno and helping him sit on the couches, then passing the cloth over his face, trying to tend to the wounds there and causing Jeno to let out a groan of pain.

(Y/N) chose not to say anything for the moment.

"What the hell did you do this time, Jeno?" Jaehyun asked releasing a furious sigh.

"I didn't do shit," Jeno replied through gritted teeth, letting out a grunt of pain.

"Bullshit," Jaehyun said. "What the hell did you do? I told you not to get into more trouble, especially not with the Yellow Wood gang again. You should know better than that, you're an idiot."

"What is she doing here?" Jeno asked back, grabbing the girl's wrist to stop her from continuing to apply the cloth to his face.

"It's none of your business," Jaehyun replied sharply, approaching him and forcefully removing his hand from her wrist. "What the hell did you do? Why did Chris say you got into his area?"

"It's none of your business," Jeno repeated, provoking Jaehyun.

"Stop this shit, Jeno!" The boy shouted, causing (Y/N) to jump in her place and feel small in her spot.

Jeno stood up forcefully from his seat and after letting out a groan, he said, "You told me you wouldn't get involved in my businessanymore, what happened then? Huh?"

"Don't be stupid, Jeno," Jaehyun spat. "Of course I'll keep worrying about you!" He raised his hands. "I've been in this business since I was eleven..." He murmured. "Do you think I don't know about this shit? Just tell me what the hell you did?"

Jeno remained silent for a moment, debating internally. He glanced sideways at (Y/N), who was a few steps away from them, watching the scene like an intruder. She didn't know what to do or say, she just stood there like a statue while holding the cloth to her chest.

"Sooman sent me... me and Jaemin. We were supposed to deliver some packages at the entrance of Yellow Wood but Chris and his friends were there... we didn't expect them, and then things got messy," Jeno replied in a low voice.

Jaehyun took a deep breath and let it out heavily before bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "You got yourself into this shit, Jeno. I told you not to do it. I told you many times, and you know there's no turning back now, I don't know if you think this is some kind of game… but this," he pointed. "This is why I was after you and didn't want you to get into this fucking shit, your life will now become this. It won't be the first or the last fight or threat you'll have. Pull yourself together and realize what's coming," he said as he approached him.

Jeno just remained silent and clenched his fist on his lap.

"Do you think I chose this life for us? No, but you could choose to do something about yours. I was giving you everything, I was taking care of the business so you wouldn't have to! This is not a fucking game, Jeno!" Jaehyun exclaimed, feeling on the edge of anger.

"Jaehyun..." (Y/N) called him.

"No..." he said. "You don't know anything about this," and that was enough for the girl to fall silent.

"Yes, Jaehyun. (Y/N) knows nothing about this," Jeno said with annoyance. "Does she know your nightly routine? The number of packages you deliver in a week?"

"Jeno, shut up."

"Oh, I'm curious to know what she's doing here... you're not here for homework, are you? Oh, you're one of Jaehyun's little friends," Jeno blurted out. "Tell her, Jaehyun, tell her all about your life, all the truth, tell her how you manage to ruin people's lives. Or will you turn her into an addict too? Just like her cousin?"

"Jeno, shut up!" Jaehyun interrupted him loudly. "(Y/N), go to the car, I'll take you home."

"Jaehyun..."

"Get in the car," he repeated, this time in a low voice. After seeing that the girl did as he asked, he approached Jeno. "I'll tell you one thing, Jeno, you screwed up, and I won't be here to hold you up like I've been trying to do since I was eleven. It's time for you to realize your reality and what you chose... next time, you'll end up worse, and you know it, so try not to screw up so much, because you'll only dig yourself deeper," Jaehyun sentenced, turning away, not wanting to see him anymore for the moment.

He walked a few steps toward the exit, knowing that the girl would be waiting for him on the other side.

"Fucking someone from Kwangya won't make you escape your reality," Jeno muttered.

And although he had tried to avoid it all this time, that last sentence was something he couldn't help but let boil his blood because it was then that he turned around, walked up to Jeno and gave him a clean blow to his jaw.

"You're an ungrateful bastard. All my life I've tried to save you from this shit and this is how you repay me? I expected more from you, Jeno. Much more."

He turned away without letting Jeno say anything, continued his path, and found (Y/N) already sitting in the passenger seat with a bewildered look, waiting for Jaehyun to get into the car.

When he did, (Y/N) gave him a few moments to compose himself. Jaehyun slumped into the seat and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh and then a slight huff.

"You wanted to know more about me, didn't you?" He smirked slightly without opening his eyes. "There you have it. You shouldn't have seen all this shit but you did. This is my life, this is me."

The girl didn't say anything at first. She just let the words walk through her head.

"I'm sorry for what Jeno said," Jaehyun continued.

"You don't have to apologize," (Y/N) assured him. "I'm the one who wanted to come," she joked, and Jaehyun chuckled softly. "I know it's hard, but I think Jeno will someday see what you're trying to do for him... you're not a bad person, Jaehyun, you're an older brother worried about your little brother."

Jaehyun sighed. "Jeno doesn't understand how big of a deal this life is. I don't want to see him end up in a body bag or have to go identify his body. He's taking it lightly, as if it were a game."

"He won't," she told him. "As long as you keep trying, he might not."

"I see the way out further each time," Jaehyun confessed. "Every time I think I might get them out of here, something happens; first my dad's death, then Winwin's accident, and now Jeno starting to deal... it's like something wants to keep me tied here.

(Y/N) nodded slowly and seeing Jaehyun's hand on his own lap, she took a deep breath and stretched her hand to take his, which didn't seem to surprise him in the least, which caused something inside her.

"All those are reasons enough, Jaehyun," she said as she squeezed his hand. "I know that as long as you continue with that purpose... they might get out of here... I trust you."

The boy tensed under (Y/N)'s words and swallowed hard.

How could she trust him? How could she do it after seeing and hearing what happened moments ago? Why did (Y/N) want to make him feel this way?

He hated being selfish, he did it too much. But... now he felt there was something else to cling to. And he didn't understand it! As much as he wanted to, now all he could think about was how good it felt a few moments ago when (Y/N)'s body was pressed against his. How could a relationship with her end well? He didn't know, but curiosity to find out would end up killing him.

He didn't know if being attracted to (Y/N) would end up being just as dangerous as his life in Neo Zone.

But he wanted to take the risk.

"I wouldn't want to clash with your perfect life," Jaehyun murmured. (Y/N) scoffed and shook her head slowly.

"No life is perfect. Not even mine," the girl assured him. "Money isn't everything, Jaehyun... money has taken away my freedom to be whoever I want," she added with a sigh.

"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

(Y/N) smiled slightly.

"My whole life has been based on appearances. Eighty percent of the decisions I've made have been made based on what my parents want or ask me to do. They want to have this facade of the perfect family. Especially my mom; for her, showing off our status, our money, is all that matters; everything I do needs to be backed by my mom. I have no voice in that house," she murmured the latter. "And I know that you and I are in different contexts and situations, but I also want to break out of my routine, I want to be able to have my own voice."

And that was something they shared... wishing to have their voice, wishing to be someone for themselves and not for others.

That's what brought them together.

"My life has been about being the girl who doesn't cause trouble, who sits and agrees with everything others say, who shouldn't cause a scandal," she continued and chuckled softly. "My dad has been cheating on my mom for a long time, and she knows it, but she'd rather put up with that than endure a divorce scandal... it's all pretending."

"It seems like we both seek to know who we are," Jaehyun said, turning to look at her without letting go of her hand. "And where we belong."

The girl smiled slightly and nodded.

"I don't think I'd mind finding out with you."

Jaehyun returned the smile and nodded his head.

"I'll take you home."

Crossing the entire city was a long journey, however, this time it hadn't been an uncomfortable or silent trip, so when Jaehyun stopped the car outside the Hwang residence, he got out of the car to say goodbye to the girl.

"Thanks for showing me a piece of your life," the girl repeated when they faced each other.

"Well, it seems like you're very stubborn," Jaehyun replied, laughing.

"I've been told a couple of times," she joked as they approached each other. "But I mean it, it meant a lot to me."

"Even with what happened?”

"Even with what happened” she affirmed.

Suddenly the distance wasn't so long anymore, and Jaehyun's hands weren't in his pockets anymore, but now they were on the girl's waist as he leaned against the car door.

"It's good to know," the boy said softly.

The silence stretched, and as they looked at each other, (Y/N) let out a giggle and spoke: "Are you going to give me a goodbye kiss?"

"I wouldn't want to have your dad's bodyguards on my back," Jaehyun joked as he tightened his grip on her waist.

"Can't you handle them?" She played along.

"Oh, baby, we both know I can handle them. I just don't want to cause trouble," Jaehyun confessed.

"But I want you to cause trouble."

And once again, the boy's lips met hers, first moving slowly and advancing as the kiss lingered. The only thing on Jaehyun's mind was her, nothing else. At that moment, he couldn't think of anything else, their lips collided and he swallowed the slight moan that (Y/N) let out when he pulled her closer to his body.

Playing with fire would end up burning him more than he wished.

But he would enjoy it until he couldn't anymore.

(Y/N)'s fingers played with the hairs on his neck, causing his skin to tingle and his body to start feeling hot; what would happen next? Taking her to the back of the car? Fuck, how good she would look while she was on top of his lap.

He could imagine it in a thousand ways.

But his thoughts were interrupted when something caught his attention.

"What do you think you're doing (Y/N)?" The girl's mother was a few meters away from them, and as (Y/N) pulled away from Jaehyun, he could see her face turn pale.

"Mom..."

"Get away from that boy, now," her mother demanded as she approached her and pulled her arm. "What are you doing with this criminal?"

Jaehyun's hand didn't leave the girl's waist for a second.

"Sorry, Mrs. Hwang, but I don't think I've disrespected you for you to do that to me," the boy warned as he stared at her.

"Mom, don't make a scene."

"Don't make a scene? You'll see when your dad finds out about this, go into the house now!" she demanded as she pulled her arm and moved her in the opposite direction.

"Mom!"

"Get your ass into the damn house now, (Y/N). I won't repeat it twice," the mother exclaimed and pointed at Jaehyun. "And you, I want this to be the last time you come near my daughter. I don't know what you're after, I don't know if you want money, but you won't get it. You better make sure this is the last time I see you near my house."

Jaehyun scoffed and shook his head.

"Call me, baby," Jaehyun shouted to the girl who was standing at the entrance of the residence. "And I don't want your money."

_______________________________________________

"I can't believe it," her mother said as they entered the house. "How is it that I find my daughter in front of my own house with a criminal like that?"

"Mom..."

"No, oh God, what if the neighbors saw you, what will they think if they did?" Her mother ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. "You're grounded, and you're forbidden from seeing that boy."

"Mom, the neighbors couldn't care less about what we do! And no, you can't forbid me from anything," she countered as she walked up the stairs of the house.

"Of course I can! I'm your mother!" the woman explained as she approached her.

"You don't even act like it!" the girl exclaimed. "You're hardly ever home, all you care about is how to spend Dad's money and what else to show off, you don't care about me, I see the service workers more than I see you!" she cried as tears threatened to fall. "This whole life? Huh? Full of appearances and lies? When will you understand that money isn't everything in life? And that people don't care about what we do?" she continued. "I'm tired of all of this!"

"Stop complaining when all I've done is make this family well-accepted!"

"And what good does that do? Dad cheats on you, and the worst part is you know it!" she reminded her. "You'd rather keep up this lie of a perfect marriage than admit it slipped through your fingers!"

(Y/N)'s mother looked at her for a moment and then moved closer to slap her cheek, causing the girl to look at her in surprise and pain in her eyes.

"This house doesn't even feel like a home," (Y/N) murmured before turning around and walking to the second floor.

"Let this be the last time you see that boy!"

______________________________________________

(Y/N)'s appearance that day, could say... it surprised others. She wasn't wearing the usual attire she wore to classes; today she simply had on joggers with no specific brand and a gray hoodie with the hood pulled over her head.

The night before had been... chaotic to say the least. Not only had she experienced something new with Jaehyun, for which she couldn't be more grateful, but it had also been the last straw in her relationship with her mother.

Years of listening to and doing whatever she asked, only for her to lay a hand on her in a single night.

She didn't know where she stood.

She didn't know what to feel, and she didn't know what to do.

She could still feel the sting of her mother's blow on her cheek.

For her, the pain was more mental than physical.

How could her own mother do that to her?

Feeling lost, she didn't even notice when she reached the entrance and saw Jaehyun waiting for her eagerly.

"Angel?" he called out, receiving no response. "(Y/N)."

"Huh?"

"You seem a bit lost, sweet cheeks," the boy said as he approached. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, Jaehyun," she murmured.

"Well, I think it's the first time I've seen you in joggers and a hoodie. Especially covering your head with a cap, did you get into trouble last night?" he smirked.

(Y/N) shook her head.

"My mom grounded me... again."

Jaehyun chuckled softly and shook his head.

"It seems that ever since you started hanging out with me, your mom has felt the need to assert authority," Jaehyun commented mockingly, then his expression turned serious when he noticed the slight reddish tone on the girl's cheeks.

But this color wasn't the same as when he made her blush.

It was different.

He raised his hand to gently lift her chin and tilted the girl's head slightly to the side.

"What's this?" Jaehyun asked seriously. "Did she hit you?"

(Y/N) grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him away a bit.

"It's nothing, Jaehyun," she affirmed.

The boy huffed.

"She can't just do this to you just because of last night, are you kidding me?" he asked, desperate.

"Well, she did, and I still can't believe it," she commented. "In my eighteen years of life, neither my mother nor my father had laid a hand on me," she said with a shaky voice.

"(Y/N)..."

"Hasn't it been enough? What I've done since I was little? My effort? Does she think something like last night was worth it?"

"It wasn't your fault," Jaehyun murmured.

"But look what she's done."

Seeing her like that and vulnerable was enough for him to wrap his arms around her shoulders.

The man you're becoming, Jung Jaehyun.

"I had texted you because Lucas and I are going to see Winwin, I was about to invite you, but if you think it's better for you to go home," Jaehyun whispered, still with his arms around her shoulders.

Without hesitation, the girl replied.

"I'll go with you guys," she assured. "I didn't do anything wrong yesterday to deserve a punishment, so I'll go with you."

"Are you sure?" he questioned.

"Very."

"Alright then, let's go."

______________________________________________

She no longer wore the hoodie's hood over her head and instead, tied her hair in a high ponytail.

Jaehyun might have thought that look accentuated her features more.

The boy smirked when he saw her laughing at something Lucas had said.

He could get used to that.

She quickened her pace when she noticed she had fallen a bit behind, and after greeting the familiar nurse, they made their way to room 119.

The laughter of Lucas and (Y/N) ceased when the door to the room opened, revealing Winwin just as in previous times.

Facing the window, staring into nothingness while seated in the wheelchair.

For Jaehyun and Lucas, that sight never ceased to be heartbreaking.

It was like seeing their friend dead while still alive.

"Hey Win," Jaehyun said gently as he approached him.

"Oh, what's this? Your hair has grown more since last time," Lucas commented as he took a strand of Winwin's hair. "Should I tell the nurse to cut it a bit, or do you like it this way?" he asked.

The dynamic of entering the room and conversing and asking questions to Winwin as if he could respond was something they were both accustomed to.

But for (Y/N), it was difficult to imagine the pain they endured knowing their friend wasn't mentally present.

"Oi Xuxi, Winwin's hair looks good like this, we should leave it for a while," Jaehyun joked. "His bowl cut was too much."

Lucas laughed and nodded as he sat on the floor beside Winwin's wheelchair and looked out the window, just as his friend did.

Then, Jaehyun mimicked him from the opposite side.

And (Y/N) decided to watch the scene from the room's entrance.

"Haha, Winwin hated that haircut," Lucas chuckled. "But my aunt kept doing it despite his complaints," he teased.

"Sicheng could never say no to my aunt," Jaehyun continued. "He didn't like making her sad, and she loved that cut on him," he reminisced with nostalgia and bit his lip.

Lucas nodded and sighed.

"Man, I really miss them," Lucas commented as he stopped looking out the window and looked at his hands.

(Y/N) felt like an intruder.

"My aunt made the best hot pot," Jaehyun continued. "Sometimes I miss being able to go to her house and sit down to eat with them."

"At least we have Sicheng."

Jaehyun smirked and looked at the mentioned. Winwin's face hadn't changed much, nor had his body; he looked a bit thinner since his nourishment was only through the tube he was connected to. His eyes were a bit dull, but they knew he was the same Winwin they had always known.

They just had to wait for him to come back.

(Y/N) decided to approach when both friends fell silent for a while, she stood right behind Jaehyun and placed her hand on his shoulder to offer support.

There were no words to say, but Jaehyun understood that she was there for him.

A few more moments of reminiscing a few anecdotes were enough to understand what Dong Sicheng meant to them.

To know the great friend Winwin had been before the accident.

And how much they longed to have him back.

They hated it when the half-hour visit ended. They didn't even feel like they had been there long enough; when they stood up to say goodbye to their friend, Lucas put his hand on Winwin's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

"We're still waiting for you, Sicheng," he said gently.

"We'll be back soon," Jaehyun assured him, looking at him. "Don't cause any trouble."

Sometimes, the view played tricks, so when something caught Jaehyun's eye, he couldn't really believe it.

His breath stopped, and his heart raced; his gaze went to Lucas, who was to his right, and then to Winwin's body.

That really just happened.

(Y/N) opened her eyes in surprise when she understood the situation.

"Lucas," Jaehyun called to his friend.

"Did it really happen?" the mentioned asked.

"He moved his finger," (Y/N) blurted out.

"Jaehyun," Lucas called to him and then took him by the shoulders. "He moved his finger!"

Jaehyun remained frozen in place as Lucas shook him with excitement and (Y/N) hugged him from the side.

It was the first time Winwin had a reaction in the whole year he had been in rehabilitation.

And finally, they could see a light at the end of the tunnel.

After informing the nurse and thanking her for what they had done for Winwin and feeling excited about his friend's recent achievement, unfortunately, they had to leave the rehabilitation center.

Jaehyun's heart continued to beat rapidly, the thought that his friend could return sooner than expected filled him with happiness.

Perhaps not everything in his life had to be bad in the past few months.

"Should I take you home?" he asked (Y/N), who was beside him.

"I really don't want to go there," she replied.

Jaehyun nodded. "We have a race in Neo Zone tonight."

(Y/N) bit her lip and looked at him for a few seconds.

"Would you take me?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure if I should take you back to Neo Zone, Angel," he commented as he smiled sideways.

"Jaehyun," she murmured. "I survived the first visits to Neo Zone, I think I can survive one more night," she assured.

"It's not that," the boy replied as he stopped walking. "As long as they see you with me, no one would dare to harm you."

(Y/N) approached him a little, and it was then that Jaehyun took the opportunity to put one of his hands around her waist to pull her close to him.

"So?" the girl continued as she blushed. "At this moment, I prefer that, rather than going home to see my mom."

"Hmm," Jaehyun shrugged. "What do I get in return?"

(Y/N) thought she couldn't blush more, but Jaehyun just managed to make it happen now.

Seeing Jaehyun's sideways smile, the girl couldn't resist for long, which is why she slowly approached until their breaths mingled, and their noses touched.

The girl could feel herself melting right there.

"Hey, lovebirds," Lucas's shout caught their attention. "Sorry to be the third wheel, but the car is insured, and I really want to get in."

Jaehyun rested his forehead against the girl's and chuckled softly before shaking his head and, without the girl being able to expect it, he planted a brief kiss on her lips and then stepped away from her to walk towards his car.

Leaving her alone for a few seconds as she collected herself and walked behind them.

_____________________________________________

When the clock struck seven in the evening, (Y/N) thanked Jungwoo for being the best friend in the world.

"This will be the last time I sneak into your house to bring you a perfect outfit and escape from your mom so you can go to Neo Zone," Jungwoo said, crossing his arms.

"You're the best," she said as she applied lip gloss and smiled.

"And you haven't even told me what's been going on between you and Jaehyun, and now you're going to Neo Zone regularly?" the boy accused.

"We're just seeing how things go," (Y/N) murmured.

"Well, things must be going well if your mom flipped out when she found you kissing him," Jungwoo said sarcastically.

"Don't even remind me," she continued. "Are you coming with us or not?" she asked when she received a text from Jaehyun letting her know he was less than five minutes away from Jungwoo's house.

"And miss seeing my best friend getting laid? No thanks," Jungwoo joked as he got up from his bed and walked to the door. "Hurry up and let's go to Neo Zone."

When they reached the entrance of the Kim mansion, her heart could feel excitement, which Jaehyun had been provoking in her in recent days.

A few meters away, she saw Jaehyun's car, with him and Lucas in the front passenger seat. It didn't take long for them to park in front of them, and with a leap, Lucas moved to the back seats, and Jaehyun got out of the car to approach his friends.

"Hey, pretty," he greeted her, embracing her around the waist and leaving a small kiss on her lips.

Not only Jungwoo was surprised by the reception his friend had, but even (Y/N) herself was.

Jaehyun smiled when they separated and pushed her a little closer to the car. Minutes later, the four of them were leaving Kwangya, and as they approached the Neo Zone area, the streets became darker.

Perhaps fifteen minutes were enough to start hearing the roar of car engines and the music that resonated became more present. Her body was filled with an endless stream of adrenaline and emotions, and despite this being her fourth visit to the area, something inside her told her that something would happen tonight.

When the car stopped on one of the avenues of Neo Zone, Lucas was the first to get out of the car, saying he would sign Jaehyun up for one of the races. Then the other three followed, and they approached where the crowd was.

Jaehyun walked with his hand on (Y/N)'s lower back, carefully guiding her through the crowd with Jungwoo by his side.

"I can tell you're tense," Jaehyun said in (Y/N)'s ear, hoping she could hear him over the loud music.

"I'm fine," she replied in the same manner. "It's just... be careful in the race, okay?" she said as she turned around and ran her hands over his neck.

"Baby, I told you once," he said with a lopsided smile. "I always win."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful," she replied.

Jaehyun pulled her closer.

"Why don't you just kiss me so I'll consider it?"

He didn't need a second request because their lips met. Slow at first, like the first times, savoring the taste of the boy's lips... she could even swear she could taste a bit of weed that he had possibly smoked before meeting her. But she liked the taste; Jaehyun squeezed his hands on her hips and pressed her closer to him to enhance the experience.

The kiss felt electric, as if a spark ran through her body, from her lips to the tips of her toes. The boy's hands provided warmth and made her feel like she was melting right there.

She loved feeling like this.

Jaehyun couldn't get his mind off anything other than (Y/N). How the past few days had transformed them after they had both confided in each other.

He wanted to know her in all her forms. That's what he desired.

But the moment (Y/N) could slightly feel Jaehyun's hard length as he pressed her closer to his body.

She wanted to regain her composure.

"We're in public, Jae," she murmured when she pulled away from him.

"Fuck, I won't care about that if you call me like that again," Jaehyun confessed as he kissed her lips again and bit her lower lip. "Wanna go to my car?" he asked when he pulled away from her.

(Y/N) nodded without thinking twice.

Fortunately for both of them, Jaehyun's car was a bit away from the crowd. Just enough for no one to pay attention to them when they slipped between people; (Y/N)'s hands were sweating, and her legs were trembling.

Jaehyun opened the door to the back of the car, and before she could enter, he took her waist again and crashed his lips against hers, this time in a passionate and lustful kiss. (Y/N) pushed him by the shoulders to get into the car, and both of them did so without separating even a bit. A session of hot kisses intensified when, without even noticing, (Y/N) climbed onto Jaehyun's lap, feeling his hard length through her clothes.

And that was enough for her to move on him.

"Shit," Jaehyun groaned against (Y/N)'s lips.

The warmth of Jaehyun's hands left her waist to go down a bit and rest on (Y/N)'s butt, guiding her to press her small body against his clothed cock that was getting harder as time passed.

It felt so good.

Both of them did.

(Y/N)'s fingers were tangled in Jaehyun's hair, and the latter let out a moan when the make-out session became more heated.

It went on like that for a few more moments; Jaehyun's hands were doing everything everywhere, squeezing her butt, returning to her waist, and caressing any part of her skin possible. This caused (Y/N) to pant sweetly, giving Jaehyun more courage to continue.

Immersed in the state of ecstasy she was in, she didn't even notice when Jaehyun's hand left her waist and now was skimming her inner thighs.

But she didn't mind when she felt that.

“Shit baby” Jaehyun panted. “You gonna make me crazy” he rasped.

“Jae” she moaned.

“Yeah pretty girl, keep calling my name like that” he said as his fingers got in contact with her slick. “You’re so pretty looking like a hot mess”

(Y/N) didn’t say anything back, she just moved more to get the feeling of Jaehyun's fingers on her.

“Please touch me” she asked looking straight to his eyes.

He didn’t need to heart it twice to move her panties to the side and slide a finger through her folds and hearing her let a moan out. “Baby you’re dripping”

“That’s how you make me feel” she said between moans. “Fuck, Jae”

“You sound so pretty like this” he kissed her lips while introducing another finger on her, starting to move two fingers inside of her. She gasped in his mouth and Jaehyun only speed his pace. Curling and moving his fingers deep inside of her, looking for any sweet spots she might have.

“Look at you, getting off in the back of my car” jaehyun said too intoxicated, loving the way she looked as she left out moans that only turned him on. “Didn’t think you would like something like this” he said as he curl his fingers in a particular spot.

“Jaehyun” she mewl opening her mouth and making her grip on Jaehyun’s shoulder tighter. “Right there”

“Here baby?” He asked adding a third finger.

His fingers started to scissor her folds, making her feel so full of just his fingers, she moved her hips back and forth just to get a better feeling of the things Jaehyun was doing to her.

She felt in heaven.

But Jaehyun was hell.

When one of his fingers moved to her clit, that was when she lost it, getting higher moans out and squeezing her eyes shut feeling so overwhelmed. The sensation was just too good and she wanted so much more, she needed to feel him. Needed all of him.

With just a couple more of movements were enough to feel a knot in her low stomach.

“Look at me” Jaehyun asked, taking her jaw with his free hand and making her look straight at him.

With her fucked out eyes, she let Jaehyun take the best out of her. It didn’t take too long for her to let a loud moan and collapse on Jaehyun's chest, panting heavily while she tried to compose herself. Jaehyun took his fingers out of her and he licked them clean, and with his other clean and free hand rubbing her back giving her time to herself.

“You did good, baby” Jaehyun whispered in her ear while kissing her temple.

They stayed like that for a couple minutes, until Jaehyun's phone was ringing and noticing that was Lucas the one that was calling him.

“Shit. Angel?” he called her. “You okay to go back?” She hummed while nodding. “The race is 'bout to start”

“Yeah, I’m okay” she assured him.

He smiled and let a kiss in her lips while she got off of his lap. She opened the door and the both of them got out and Jaehyun help her to fix her skirt.

“Next time, your skirt will be off” he winked at her, making her blush even more.

He intertwined their hands and starting to walk again to the Main Street. Seeing Lucas and Jungwoo waiting for them a couple of meters away from them.

The loud music was still on and the roaring noise of the cars was getting louder and louder but before they both could approach their friends, someone got in their way.

“We need to talk” it was all the person said to Jaehyun but it was enough to tense him up.

(Y/N) knew Mark Lee from school, she knew he was Jaehyun’s friend back in the days, but she didn’t knew why they broke their friendship.

So, to say she was confused to see Mark in front of them, was an understatement.

“We don’t” Jaehyun stated pushing him to the side with his shoulder and trying to keep walking with (Y/N).

“Jaehyun” Mark called him from the back. “I know we haven’t talked in ages but this is important” the called one stopped his steps and took a long breath and it was then when Lucas and Jungwoo came to their side.

“I don’t have anything to talk with you, Mark” he said not looking at him.

He wanted to keep walking but the next few words that Mark let out were enough to catch their attention.

“Please Yoonoh” he asked. “Listen to me”

He shook his head.

“I know who caused Winwin's accident” he let out.

Lucas and Jaehyun quickly looked at him and Jaehyun got closer to him taking the neck of his shirt on his fist.

“Don’t say Winwin's name if you’re playing around” he said angrily.

“I’m not” Mark said with confidence. “Look dude, I know you won’t believe me, but I’m not lying. Winwin was my friend just as it was yours, so I wouldn’t joke about this. I was just as hurt as you were and you know it” he explained taking Jaehyun's wrists on his hands.

Jaehyun tensed his jaw and looks back at Lucas who just nodded and got closer to his best friend and to his formal friend.

“I swear I know who did it” Mark mumbled.

Jaehyun cursed and let his shirt to look at Jungwoo and (Y/N). “Jungwoo, take her home” he asked.

“Jae” she called him. “I don’t want to go” she said getting closer to him.

“I’m not asking you” he replied. “Jungwoo take her home” he repeated.

What will happen now that he might going to find out who caused his best friend’s accident?

He just wanted revenge. He just wanted to make them pay for what they did to Winwin.

He was just so lost.

What will he do?

a/n: im sorry if is a shitty chapter or a shitty smut part but I had to haha, if you want a smut part next ch lemme knowwww.

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @kriizztin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @beomgyusonlywife @bts-iris @doejaejung @methneo

If you want to ask me something, feel free to send them here!

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