#tw blood like substance | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

demonic0angel · 1 month

Text

Haunted Paintings Sketches!

Part one

I hope you enjoy the sketches I made of the paintings!

Also! You’re free to use my ideas (please give credit ofc) if you’d like, bc I REALLY don’t think I’ll write this one, no matter how much I want to. It’s just too much and I’ve already got 3 unfinished fics and several other series to write for. If you have any questions, feel free to ask or send me a submission! You can also DM if you’d like!

TW: mentions of suicide, murder, depression, mental illness, just really dark, creepy stuff bc these are haunted paintings and they torment people :/ no scary drawings tho! I only described them (click for clarity)

Jazz:

Description: Jazz is sitting at a table in the middle of a flower garden with a book in one hand and a teacup in the other. She looks tranquil and is dressed formally. On the table are a few plates, a plate of cookies, a bookmark, an opened envelope and a bloody butter knife, and a teapot that is slightly out of view.

Use of mediums: gouache paint, watercolor, and pencils

Focus: Jazz amidst the flowers

Inspirations:

• The Queen of Hearts from “Alice in Wonderland”

• Galna from “Mairimashita! Iruma-kun”

Location: She used to be in the home of a random crime lord in Gotham for intimidation purposes. She was kept in the crime lord’s office before being relocated into Wayne Manor, where she sits in the hall across from the library.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where her tea is filled with blood and the roses would be replaced with decapitated heads. The sky would turn dark red and the ground would be a pool of blood. Jazz would smile and look at the viewer with shark-like fangs and hollowed out eyes.

+ The tea she drinks is Darjeeling and the cookies are chocolate chip.

+ Although Jazz is the weakest painting, her effects are deadlier, more painful, and longer lasting than the others if her victims survive.

+ She causes paranoia and dizzy spells. Her effects are rather weak compared to the others, but when spending enough time with her, victims can also display symptoms of scurvy, which cannot be cured.

+ She was the first one I drew and also the easiest to plan. I just love her so much, she’s one of my comfort characters so it’s not hard for me to find ideas for her 😭

Valerie:

Description: Valerie stands in the middle of a dark, foggy forest, wearing a long dress and pressed close to a tree as if she is about to hide behind it. A branch covers her face and the trees around her curve into a circle with multiple holes within them. There is a Fenton thermos in the background on the floor and an axe in front of Valerie, sticking into the tree and oozing something.

Use of mediums: pencils and watercolor paint

Focus: Her hidden face

Inspirations:

• The Son of Man by René Magritte

• The Beast from “Over the Garden Wall”

Location: She was kept in the back of an art museum, but the director has been hoping for someone to buy her and get rid of her, since he cannot handle the strain of having her inside of the gallery. Now she stands near the door to the entrance of Wayne Manor, a silent and deadly sentry.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would have her surroundings to turned into the entrance to a mouth or an intestine, red, fleshy, and bloody. There would be bones littering the floor everywhere and Valerie herself would become bloody and stained, with her face still hidden. Tortured faces would be seen through the fog.

+ The holes on the trees sometimes leak a mysterious substance.

+ Valerie is not the weakest, but she is not that powerful. However, she does amplify the others’ effects to fatal degrees.

+ She causes paranoia and auditory hallucinations, often causing her victims to feel as though they are being watched relentlessly, which cannot go away. Eventually, her victims will shut themselves into their rooms and starve to death from the fear.

+ She and Tucker had switched ideas, but I had to trash them. I never got the opportunity to draw those ideas because I struggled so much with Tucker that when I eventually got inspiration for Valerie, I just went with it. I’m quite happy with Valerie’s portrait now.

Dani:

Description: Dani, dressed formally, sits at the head of a table with a large painting and curtains behind her. She holds a fork and a knife over a pig head. Her gaze is downward and she looks like she’s frowning softly. The dinner table is messy with three other dishes and a knocked over bottle of wine.

Use of mediums: oil paint and oil pastels

Focus: Dani holding the fork and knife

Inspirations:

• Rosie’s Tea Party by Mark Ryden

• “Spirited Away” (specifically that one scene where Chihiro’s parents eat the food)

Location: She was hidden by Vlad and kept safe with him. He keeps her in his office, where he can watch her. He only recently found her again, and he was determined to watch over her. Now she stays in the Wayne Manor's dining room, but often changes her position to be next to everyone else in the bedroom hallway.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where all of her food dishes would be replaced by very obviously human parts, especially with the pig head becoming a human head. The curtains would turn to blood dripping down the wall and Dani would be smiling, taking a direct bite of the human head that was in front of her with her fork and knife.

+ The dishes she eats in the painting are: pig head, vulture thigh, lamprey eels, and sheep brain.

+ Her at the dining table is meant to signify greed and gluttony, 2 of the most simplest sins.

+ She causes great feelings of hunger and paranoia in others. When spending too much time with her, some victims turn to self-cannibalism to sate their never ending starvation.

+ Originally, both her and Dan’s ideas were switched, so Dan would’ve been the one feasting and Dani would’ve been the one looking at her reflection. However, I switched them around because I felt like it would’ve been spookier. I even finished the drawing with Dan and everything, but then I just erased him and drew in Dani 😓

Dan:

Description: Dan is standing in front of a mirror, glancing behind his shoulder, while his reflection shows something different: him looking at everyone else and the door behind him by looking at the mirror. The party guests are all wearing masks and there are chandeliers on the ceiling. The party looks vaguely fancy, but messy with secrets.

Use of mediums: Oil paints

Focus: His reflection

Inspirations:

• Jeff Lee Johnson and his art

Location: He was kept in a locked safe within a rich person’s house in Italy. He had to been wrecking havoc on the nerves of everyone around him, but he is now safe and happy in Wayne Manor, where he is kept in the office to the entrance of the Batcave.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form would have all of the party guests dead, but their eyes would face the viewer. Dan's reflection would also be dead, but his actual self would be the same, only with an eerie smile as his eyes follow the viewer. In the doorway would be the figure of Danny. Blood would cover the entire floor and walls, but nobody would react to it.

+ Dan keeps his own masquerade mask in his pocket.

+ The woman who is directly staring at him is supposed to look like Maddie.

+ He causes viewers intense mood swings and long, often violent mania episodes or mind-numbing depression episodes. Those who keep staring at him will gain the feeling of being watched and haunted, often with visual hallucinations, resulting in losing their mind from fear and then killing others in their terror and panic.

+ I tried so hard to make Dan as handsome as possible. I think I pulled it off bc I’m a little bit in love with him ong, but I also kinda have to be bc I draw him so often

Tucker:

Description: Tucker is in the back shot of a desert, with his back towards the viewer, staring at a large skeleton that is seemingly climbing over a large sand dune. The skeleton has flowers in its eyes, and its hand reaches over the horizon. There is a single sun in the sky and an arm holding a pocket watch sticks out of the sand close to the viewer.

Use of mediums: gouache paint, pens, and pencils

Focus: The large skull

Inspirations:

• JT Music (specifically their JT album covers)

• The Giant God Warrior from “Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind”

• “Dune”

Location: He was originally kept in one of the rooms within the GIW headquarters. Now, he is kept within Wayne Manor, and stays in the theater room, where he whispers to the Wayne residents what movies he wants to watch. Sometimes, he moves to the garage.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form is one where the skull becomes covered in meat and flesh, oozing blood and tar while the sand turns red. The scene turns to darkness, and more limbs would sprout from the ground. Tucker would be nothing but a pile of flayed skin, crumpled into the sand.

+ GIW agents were unable to experiment on him, since he would purposefully cause machinery to misfire and slowly corrode his surroundings.

+ His painting is meant to be a little comic book-esque with one of his mediums being ink, but I felt like that wouldn’t be a PAINTing, so nvm

+ He causes visual hallucinations, hypovolemia, headaches, blindness, and osteoporosis :). Often, when his victims are autopsied, sand and salt can be found within all of their organs. He emits so much radiation that he can wear down the materials of the place he is stored in.

+ I DREW HIM THREE DIFFERENT TIMES OML, FIRST IT WAS HIM IN A WORKSHOP, THEN IT WAS HIM IN A MARSH, THIS IS THE FINAL PICTURE I CANNOTTTT IM DONE

Sam:

Description: Sam stands on top of a small, grassy hill with a path leading to a grave and an angel statue on top of it, close enough that she is blocking it. Around the hill are pomegranate trees and hanging corpses. There is no sun, but there are clouds as Sam stands with her back to the viewers in a long goth-styled dress.

Use of mediums: paper, glue, acrylic paint

Focus: Her standing on the hill

Inspirations:

• This Reddit picture of a liminal garden

• A mix of weirdcore and dreamcore aesthetics

Location: She was tossed into the ocean by her parents when they first saw her, but she later washed up on an island and now the animals and plants there act erratically and strangely. Finally, she was relocated to Wayne Manor, where she hangs on a wall within the greenhouse, happily watching over the plants there.

Extra facts:

+ Her scary form would be one where eyes would replace all of the pomegranates, staring at the viewer. The paper used to make her would become flesh textured and bloody, and Sam would appear abnormal, broken into pieces and cracked, turning around and smiling at the viewer with shark-like teeth. The grass would become hairy skin and the sky would become red, with swirls and more eyes.

+ Sam's "painting" is actually made of mostly paper, since it is a collage. It is a bit touched up by paint and all of the materials used are vegan and ethically sourced, though they do change.

+ The flora and fauna in the island she landed on have mutated so much that they’re basically mindless. They protect Sam relentlessly.

+ She causes general insanity and relentless symptoms in her victims, such as paranoia, intense episodes of mania and depression, itchiness that can result in self harm, and violent, unexplained behavior in animals and plants. She also emits so much radiation that she can cause sporadic DNA mutations, resulting in several forms of cancer and mental instability, often resulting in victims becoming inhuman and monstrous forms of themselves.

+ Originally, Sam’s portrait was supposed to be in a garden, but I wanted it more “liminal space” themed, and I think I got it right. I think it’s really simple, but I also feel like if I was able to create it in real life, it would be more interesting because it is a collage of paper and paint.

Danny:

Description: a picture of black blotches and scribbles with muddy and red stains. Any features besides the ornate frame is hidden underneath the stains.

Use of mediums: pencils, ink, charcoal, tar, blood

Focus: His crying

Inspirations:

• SCP-035 (“The Possessive Mask”)

• The Anguished Man by an unknown artist (it’s a haunted irl painting!)

• Bendy and the Ink Machine

Location: He was cloning himself in order to jump through universes to find his family. In the current universe, he was with the League of Shadows before he was found and brought back to the Wayne Manor. He is in the hallway with the bedrooms of the Wayne residents.

Extra facts:

+ His scary form is technically his normal form because he cannot turn it off. Once he is happy again, his normal form would be one with him and his family, smiling and happy. Until then, he haunts the minds of others and ravages their sanity.

+ He’s been traveling all over the multiverse in order to find his family. Coincidentally, they’ve all been in the same world for some time.

+ He screams all day and night for his family. It’s so bad that Danny has destroyed thousands of worlds in his grief.

+ He causes the worst of all symptoms, often causing the viewers who look at him to go insane and kill themselves or others, even if it is only a few seconds. Even those who stay in the same room next door to him are consumed with suicidal thoughts and intense moments of psychosis. Those who have survived encountering him and have some semblance of mind left say that he “cries” relentlessly. His paintings leak a black substance that corrodes the place around him.

+ Literally all I did for this picture was scribble in my notes app, take a screenshot, and then scribble some more on photos LMAO

Extra notes:

+ Jazz, Dani, and Dan showing their face while Sam, Tucker, and Valerie hiding theirs is intentional. Danny is a mix of both, because he actually IS showing his face, but you can’t see it past the black and red.

+ Every painting has a flower inside of it, specifically a carnation, which are often funeral flowers, and can mean gratitude, remembrance, love, and affection.

+ Every painting also has a mention or appearance of Danny in it.

+ I also tried to put hints of bad omens or signs of death within every painting. Some examples are Dani’s painting with the chopsticks sticking out of the bowl (a sign of bad luck and death), or Dan’s painting, where a woman is being strangled in the background and another is being killed.

+ All of the paintings generally have an ability to teleport to places nearby and can actually snatch up viewers to shove them into their domain. This can be a defensive mechanism (the paintings protect the Bats) or an offensive ability (they pull victims in and kill them). They also all have weapons on them that are hidden or not so hidden.

+ I struggled a lot with ideas and how to get started on some characters because I just had so many, and I wanted it to be creepy, but not noticeably creepy, like most paintings. I’m sad to say that I wasn’t able to use some of my planned ideas from inspirations of actual haunted paintings.

+ Discarded inspirations: The Rain Woman by Svetlana Telets (my favorite!! Please look it up if you can!!), this picture I saw on Reddit of a sheep being stuck under ice with its back exposed, a workshop idea with Tucker, and Dani and “Daughter of Evil” with mirrors and everything.

+ The world where Danny and co., come from is different from the world they’re currently in. It’s like a world where some people are the same, but others are not. Example: the GIW, Maddie, Jack, and Vlad exist, but Danny and Jazz never made it past their childhood. So basically a What-If world or something.

+ Their backstories are somewhat undecided, but basically, something dangerous happened to them in their home dimension and it was so bad that Danny captured all of their souls and put them into paintings so they would live (with the help of Clockwork). However, by doing this, he scattered their souls and paintings throughout the universes and he went crazy from it, and turned himself into a painting too so he could find them. Now his cloned paintings travel and sends itself to other worlds to find his family again, often leading to their destruction from his power.

Or something? Lol

243 notes · View notes

irasamu · 9 months

Text

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 RIDE IT, FOLLOW MY LEAD ; a nakahara chuuya fic.❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . here, a chu fic.. in my defense, i blame my upcoming exams and busy schedule for posting so late.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; older brother's bestfriend!chuuya, fem!reader, nsfw, mutual pinning but confessions aren't direct, riding, cowgirl, virginity loss, mentions of consensual prostitution, spitting (not in mouth), angst and yeah that's all i can remember.

many things are kept away or hidden from children. drugs and intoxicated substances are usually tried to keep away from the reach of addicts and the lust for blood and itching for violence is desperately being avoided by a one time murderer with crooked morals.

yet the outcome remains the same most of the time with the forbidden being taken by the one it was supposedly kept away from is the one they acquire. it's a given in due course of time.

yet still chuuya watched for years as your brother tried to play the role of a protective brother and keep you away from most of his friends and social circle, the amount of his friends you met could be pathetically counted on one hand and even they haven't met you many times to actually put an identity and persona to your face except the title of being their 'friend's little sister.'

all but one.

"shit." your brother curses lowly, closing his eyes as he tried to find a way out of this sudden complication. he opened his eyes again and glared at you who showed up unannounced.

"i-i just wanted to surprise you -- i --"

and even now the ends of chuuya's lips quirk up when he saw you standing while gulping, cowering under your brother's glare.

"it's not about coming here unannounced or announced, it's about what would have happened if you didn't know your way? you would have been lost here and i wouldn't have a clue because i would be drunk out of my mind! you hear me?" your brother exclaimed loudly yet you don't fight like you usually do for each syllable he spoke, he raised the frequency of his voice to get his words across your brain.

"i am sorry --"

"i am not angry." your brother intrupted your apology but with the way imaginary annoyance dripped down his eyes as he continued to glower down at you told you anything but that.

"i can stay at a hotel or --"

"nonsense. i am not letting my sister stay at a cheap hotel when her brother has a good enough place for her to stay." your brother once again intrupted you, he glanced at the clock and furrowed his eyebrows.

"not good, there is an hour we have left to think of some solution." your brother muttered before he turned to look up at the second floor where the two rooms are -- one belonging to him and one to chuuya.

"well the solution is standing infront of you bastard." the boastful voice belongs to the red haired who spreaded his arms and looked at your brother with eyebrows cocked, faux offense painted all over the preety features which michelangelo would be in awe of and be inspired by.

your brother mimicked his best friend by raising his own eyebrows as he demanded the man before him to answer and make his point clear and maybe this is why he turned a blind eye to the way your eyes sparkles as you stare at the red haired man who you always favored over any other man.

"she can stay with me in my room till your party is finished, no?"

"you won't be attending?" your brother furrowed his eyebrows but didn't bother saying anything as he saw chuuya walk towards you and sling an arm over your shoulder.

"i rather not have iguana cling onto me. plus it's been so long since i last saw doll, let me catch up with her?" chuuya looked at you with the same gentleness which could be found in your brother's eyes when you aren't looking at him and your brother's eyes soften.

he is staring at the man who he could trust his life with, you with.

"iguana?" you repeat, a smile threatening to break onto your face at the joy of knowing chuuya and your brother still hold onto their silly habit of giving nicknames to people so they can shit on them later

"yeah doll, iguana is a verrrrry mean and bitchy girl." chuuya widened his eyes playfully to faux seriousness, comfortingly squeezing your forearm as he joked with you.

the tragedy started when the poverty ridden man found illegal means to acquire quick cash to fill his stomach.

and tragedy began when your brother, a man of looks and a bad personality which rich girls usually swoon over met his pandora's box and never closed it for what easy way to make money then to be the fantasy of girls who eat french cuisine for breakfast, italian for lunch and japanese for dinners? and who can make him experience success better then those boys who drives ferraris in the day and spend the nights in bmw's with a girl on their laps?

prostitution on his own will where he is the abuser and he is the abused. he is the hopeless in a situation fabricated by your parents but you don't need to know it. any of it. for he would prefer if you still saw him as the brother you always knew, he is enough to feel disgusted by himself and chuuya is enough to have sympathy for him.

that exchange took place fifty five minutes ago and so this was why you are now laying on chuuya's bed after taking a shower, arms and legs spread as you stared up at the ceiling, basking in the silence of the room and the giddiness of your heart of being in the room of the one who first made you swallow the innocent drink of a crush which stirred into a drug of love.

the door to the room opened to pull you out of your lovesick and teenage girl like thoughts, you leaned your head up to see chuuya enter, half body inside the room while the other remained outside in a very obvious way to tell you that he had been stopped by someone on his way to the room.

you sat up, leaned a bit forwards to hear the voice of the man who made goosebumps to litter your skin,

"yeah man, kinda don't feel good today or i would've joined the party for sure." chuuya chuckled and exchanged a few more short words with whoever he is talking to before he turned around to face you, closing the door and locking it as well.

you tilt your head as you hear the click indicating the door is locked and safe from outside intruptions and chuuya grins, the same boyish grin which promised nothing but thrill and excitement from all those years ago and it sturred the same feeling of being smitten with the man infront of you who now stood right infront of you, hands on his knees as he leaned to be on the same eye level as you.

"just making sure no drunk bastard barges here doll. can't i be protective of the precious doll in my room?" chuuya is a big tease. a very big and mean tease for if not then why would he play with the fire that is your heart by caressing your cheek with his knuckles.

you immediately look away to distance yourself from the addicting touch of the attractive and fanciable man, eyes falling on the skateboard leaning against the wall instead.

"you still skate?" you ask as you try to change the topic but chuuya had never been one to be easily stirred away from his goals, his knuckles still felt the smoothness and roughness of your skin. his eyes were still trained on your face as he stared, earnestly.

"gotta have something up my sleeve to impress you, no? my doll is getting prettier every time i see her, i gotta work to maintain my position as your favorite, yeah? am i still your favorite?" he teases you and it's at moments like this which makes you be aware of the tease which he is, his words which drips with playful flirtation. oh shit, you feel your heart beating quicker.

chuuya nakahara is the type of guy daughters are kept away from. older, a tease, someone who isn't afraid to talk using their fists when words fail to make a point clear and a foul mouth to combine with his devilish features.

the devil may wear prada but chuuya nakahara wears a leather jacket and choker.

yet he is also the same boy who you met all those years ago when he first moved to your area, the guy you introduced your brother to and watched them clicking instantly to even watching them leaving together for university.

"you were and will always be my favorite." you mumble and nearly feel the charms of the man named chuuya choking you when he tilts his head as he heard you before he grinned, reassurance and confidence flowing through his veins and mixing with his blood.

"you are my favorite girl too, doll. my only girl." chuuya whispered in a tone which can be imagined to be close to a murmur and a whisper, as his words were meant only for you to hear.

he relished in seeing you squirm under his intense gaze as you looked away and chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in amusement as he saw your lingering stares at his skateboard increase, he asked,

"wanna try it?" gently oh gently did the wind blow through the garden you sat alone in or is it chuuya's loving voice that is stirring emotions in the garden of feelings of your heart?

you shake your head softly but he pouts, he saw the intrest glinting in your eyes.

so he does what he does best. making girls fall for him and his charms but there is only one he will catch from falling into the abyss of heartbreak.

"come on, i am gonna be there to catch you. trust me doll." why is he suddenly being so adamant, he doesn't know. but he does know that he should be viewing you as the little sister of his bestfriend and not as an insanely preety woman in his room.

the woman infront of him right now was previously the girl he used to carry on his back whenever he and your older brother used to go out and took you with them.

chuuya's eyes trail down your neck to your collarbones to those two sinful mounds on your chest which makes it very evident that you aren't the pubescent girl anymore but an actual grown woman.

and what better way to greet himself with this better reminder that the woman infront of him is the sister of his best friend than to indulge in innocent activities with her like he used to?

but your stubbornness to remain seated and not cause any noise which could possibly ruin whatever party your brother is having downstairs is being a big hindrance in this self realization trip chuuya wants to take his heart on.

for would he really break his bestfriend's trust like this even after knowing he is the only person your brother could blindly trust you with?

no, he can't.

chuuya playfully rolls his eyes to make it seem as if his inner self isn't torn between choosing what's right for his heart or what's right for his conscience, he extended his arm as if reaching for a decision but what good is it when both include you?

chuuya's hand wraps around your wrist as he pulled you to stand up and when you widen your eyes in surprise at his action, he wonders if you are walking on the same thin rope of desire and conscience.

"i will catch you from falling." chuuya muttered but the way his voice is low, his usual teasing and playful tone absent, can one really be ignorant to think he is still talking about the skateboard?

"always?" you whisper out and isn't it great that you two have a skateboard to use as a decoy for speaking about matters much deeper then the wood the said skateboard was craved from?

"i'll be damned if i don't." chuuya whispered and smiled before his smile faltered a bit and he chuckled nervously, this chain reaction of emotions within him made you feel as if you are the only one who wants to push the boundaries to the point of no return while he is comfortable with where you two stand right now.

you nod, not as excited as chuuya hoped to see but he doesn't let this bring his mood down, instead, he releases his grip on your forearm to hold your hand instead, leading you towards his skateboard which was proped against the wall.

chuuya leaned down to pick it up and as he did so, his hand brushed against your knee which made you gulp the shaky breath which were to leave your mouth to let chuuya know the effect of his touch on your body, trapping the breath inside your chest forever.

"i never tried skateboarding." you feel it's appropriate to let him know in advance of what an immature and inexperienced student he will be dealing with but chuuya stood straight after placing the skateboard on the ground, one leg on the skateboard while the other was on the floor, he waves his hand.

"this is why i want to be the one to teach you doll. trust me, yeah? i'll catch you before you fall."

and what could you do except nod, trusting the man as you grabbed his hand which he offered, you looked down at the skateboard and with a uncomfortable feeling gnawing at your heart, you slowly raised to place one of your feets on it, going for the centre of the board till chuuya stopped you,

"not here, near the ends. if you stand on the centre then you will loose your balance." he guided you as your heart felt a violent flutter when you noticed his leg which was still planted on top of on the skateboard to offer you stability on this otherwise unstable object of joy and amusement.

you nod and tightened your grip on his palm as you placed your leg on the end of the skateboard while his remained on the other end and he stood behind you, the free hand of his itching to close the distance between his palm and the curve of your waist.

"good, now try to lift your second leg up as well, put the weight on this one." he pats your thigh of the leg planted on the skateboard and you gulp, out of fear or out of desire?

chuuya didn't notice you biting your bottom lip for he was looking down at your shaky leg with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, he muttered next to your ear,

"come on, try it." the gravel and low tone one of the man had you nearly closing your eyes but you resisted, the grip on his hand tightened even more as you lifted your leg from the ground for the slightest second before yelping, grabbing onto chuuya's arm with both hands as you felt your body shake due to the rawest taste of feeling the control you have over your body leave you as gravity plays a little trick on you to take advantage of the instability of your body.

but chuuya has always been the one to have an effect more stronger then gravity on you, it's like gravity bends to his will.

so it isn't a shock when chuuya's arm is wrapped around your waist as he pulls your body towards his, chuckling breathlessly as if he just recovered from being taken aback,

"easy there doll, i got you." he whispers, you nod.

he makes you regain your balance and you allow him to lead, his hand on your hip while you remained clasping one of his hands with your own to have support.

the hand on your hip tightened its hold and you wonder if it's how it would feel to have him grip you while your naked bodies laid sprawled with each other's?

"slowly . . . slowly, yeah, that's it . . . right there, such a good girl." chuuya guided you but your brain is salacious or why would your thoughts revolving your older brother's bestfriend be filled with concupiscence?

but alas, had the heart not been strong to a fault, would the humankind have gone through the many tragedies and achievements it did?

and chuuya's heart always had a hold on his brain so when he spoke the next sentence, it is utmost important to know his intentions behind it, he does when he does in a spur of emotions, of his desires which tickled him whenever he looked down to see his hand grabbing your hip and he almost had a urge to lift the cloth of your loose t-shirt up to see the skin his hands are on top of.

"did you kiss anyone while i was away?" he rapsed out and gulped thickly when he realised his words but what is giving him confidence to keep going on is the way he heard your breath hitch despite the blaring music from downstairs. and so he did.

"pardon?" you breath out and blinked.

"i will pardon you, no doubt in that." chuuya smirked, once he saw you purse your lips with no signs of discomfort or anything related to it on your face, "eyes on the skateboard doll." he tsked.

"right, right." you breath out as if being shaken awake from whatever daze you went in after listening to his words. now that chuuya's feet wasn't on the skateboard any longer, you felt even more nervous and scared.

"so did you? you know it's not nice to not answer someone." he mumbled, using his leg to guide your other leg on top of the skateboard.

his knee is pressed against the back of your's as he moves your leg sideways to find the perfect position for you to stand in without wobbling constantly, all while the other hand gripped and gripped your hip more tightly and the thought that it would be sure to leave a mark, his mark, is making his breathing pattern to be disturbed, hastening it's pace.

"no." you shakily breath out before repeating yourself in a more presentable and audible tone, "no i didn't, did you?"

you screwed your eyes shut, the instinct to show the same curiosity he did took the best of you and once the words were spoken, you were left all alone with your embarrassment in your body.

chuuya scooted a bit closer to you as if he wasn't already way too close then needed but who were you to point it out when you liked the body heat he radiated and the smell of his cologne faintly hitting your nose, but this step closer to you made his crotch to brush against the plush of your ass and you did everything to not grind against him or try to feel his crotch again.

"i didn't as well." he whispers, head dipped to such an angle that when he spoke, his breath hitted your jaw and is this how consuming cocaine for the first time feels like as well?

no wonder they are taboo and kept away from the curious minds.

"why? you are such a preety guy, don't you have girls begging to fall on your lap?" your curiosity couldn't be stopped now once it flowed out of the chambers of your brain. now, this curiosity flowed out and wrapped around chuuya's heart to make it feel giddy to know you care enough to be this invested in his personal affairs.

"ah," you exclaim as he makes you stand on the skateboard, your imbalance leading you to grabbing his shirt but as he stood behind you and you grabbed the nearest support you could find, you did not realize your grip was painfully near the waistband of his sweatpants because what need is there for you to look back when you were able to feel the faint outlines of his abs through the fabric of his cloth?

he helped you to stand on the skateboard and when he moved back to make you stand without his support, your knees wobbled and you widened your eyes as you were to fall backwards if it wasn't for chuuya to wrap his arms around your hips.

"got the girl i wanted to have on my lap finally." chuuya mused before helping you stand again, his hands on your hips as he stares down at your legs before he leaned down a bit to place his hand on top of your knee and your eyes widened for why would they not when your drug is flowing though your veins and into your kidney?

chuuya guided you to the position he deemed right before he stood up straight and as he did, so did the impure blood which was now once again filtered yet why did the drug still flow with it? why did it not get filtered?

you exhale a shaky breath as chuuya takes a step back after and you wobble on your feet but remain standing in place.

lines are being blurred. drugs are being inhaled and their intake is high. sin is in the air and chuuya is behind you. you are on a thin line and you loose or win is up to you. whether you fall or not is something only time will tell.

sin didn't just randomly appear, no, but it was excreted out by chuuya's brain and now the same sin of concupiscence was being felt by you too but the only difference is that chuuya has the confidence to act upon it and you don't.

"what? cat got your tongue all of a sudden?" chuuya mocked and oh, the words of mockery went straight to your cunt. "you used to talk a lot when we were kids, it was honestly so cute."

chuuya saw from his peripheral vision how his words resulted in you to bite your bottom lip to not release a breath which would come out a bit too shaky, he sucked in his inner cheek for he wanted you to react to his words and you weren't so he guesses he would need to push you a bit more.

chuuya lightly pushed the skateboard with his heel and you squealed. chuuya immediately wrapped his hands around you again but this time his hands were on your upper abdomen, just a bit from grabbing your boobs.

"easy there, doll." chuuya released a breathy laugh and you suck in air and your annoyance for how is it fair for you to be this hot and bothered by his teasing while he looks like he is having the time of his life?

"perhaps you aren't doing a good job at teaching me chu." you mumble only for the purpose to earn a reaction from him which you do but not in the way you wanted but you aren't one to complain for his cocky attitude as chuuya cocked his eyebrows in amusement at your words, is something no one could deny from finding attractive.

"i think so too, maybe i am being a bit too soft with you?" chuuya played along with your pathetic attempt as he finds areas of concern within himself, he helped you stand again and the sight of your figure shaking as you tried to stand steadily on the object is cute in his eyes.

"please hold me." your request is not innocent at all, or well, that's what chuuya thinks when your tone used is breathy and low but nevertheless, the cocaine in your blood does it work to strip away your troubles, chuuya's hands once again find their favorite spot ; your hips as he stands in a proximity so close that your heart busted with joy when you felt the outline of his chest on your back.

"what a greedy girl, aren't you a bit too demanding?" chuuya smirked and you could feel it in that cocky tone of his.

"you made me like this by giving into my every need." you whisper out as his voice is doing wonders on you, stimulating and making you shy but where rationality surrenders, arousal takes over.

this is why you placed your hand on top of his under the disguise of being 'scared' as you tilted your head back to rest it on his shoulder and looked up at him, whispering, "what should i do now?"

with a gulp, chuuya's faltered smirk returned as he rubbed his nose against your cheek, "the hardest thing when riding a skateboard -- for me -- was to stop. so let's teach you that first? hm?"

closing your eyes for the way he hums has you going crazy, you aren't sure if you want him to see your eyes exposing your true feelings for him but chuuya did, anyways, he knew it the second he had slinged his arm over your shoulder and watched you become the schoolgirl you once were as you shyly stood beside him.

chuuya is smart. and for a certain pair of siblings, he had always been the most observant and always on his heels if they needed help.

like a dance, chuuya pushed the skateboard gently with his heel while his hands remained on your hips and your's on top of his, now chuuya and you both knew this wasn't actually how one was supposed to ride a skateboard but it served as a good disguise to keep on feeling each other up.

"i don't want to do this anymore." you sigh, craning your neck to look at him with a pout on your lips, you temptress, you were just begging for chuuys to let go of his rationality and lean down to kiss you, weren't you?

"come on, don't give me that. you were looking at the skateboard so much and you used to always accompany us when we went skateboarding back then as well." chuuya tells as he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it on his index finger but bites off a smile when you shake your head.

"i don't really care much about skateboarding. i just liked looking at you riding it." you had confessed your childhood long secret of accompanying them with the purpose of letting your eyes drink in the sight of the then teenager who laughed cockily at your brother who gaped at him and another one of his tricks he performed on the skateboard, chuuya would laugh only louder when his eyes would trail towards you to see you looking at him the same way your brother would but the only difference would be that your stare would stir a feeling in him which would end with blush on his ear shells and cheeks.

now chuuya knew of your 'admiration' and 'fondness' for him. hell, he even knew of your feelings for him but what he did not know was how deeply and far back were they rooted into your heart. so he blinked.

you sighed as you saw his baffled expression and raised your head to stop resting it on his shoulder and if chuuya wasn't busy in repeating your words over and over again, he would've whined.

he froze, sure, but your thinking of the reason being awkwardness and utter surprise at your confession is not correct even in the slightest, he is frozen due to how the scene is playing out. chuuya knew of your feelings towards him as stated before and he had, ever since your brother broke the news of you coming to live with them to him, been imagining different ways of how the confession from both sides would go.

what he never thought was it happening during a moment of utter lust and attempts of breaking confinements, which, in this case happens to be their own conscience.

you run a hand through your hair, "well the cat is out of the bag." you shrug, disappointment is way too close to find a home inside your body. you smile helplessly as you look down at how you are standing steadily on top of the skateboard before muttering so only chuuya could hear though maybe it would've been better if he didn't, "i am helplessly in love with you, always were. i don't have intrest in skateboarding -- i just liked seeing you on it. i got offered to stay at the dorms near the university but i declined because i wanted to stay under the same roof as you . . . " you trail off, getting off the skateboard before turning around to face him.

your action is useless if you aren't actually going to look into his eyes and continue to stand with your head dropped low.

"i was excited. till i came here. chu . . ." you look up at him, eyes which he once dreamt of staring into his in classes he found boring, now stared at him but his dream didn't come true for your eyes didn't hold the spark he wanted to see in them, " . . what are you and my brother hiding? why are you so hesitant?"

you looked at the skateboard which served as a small beacon of the line you wanted to cross but couldn't.

you took a step forwards and tried to take a step past chuuya who snapped put of his frozen state, immediately clasping his hand around your wrist to stop you and pulled you back infront of him. he placed his arm on your shoulder as he leaned near you, smiling in defeat.

"the girl i desired is the sister of the man i consider my bestfriend, who stayed with me in my thick and thin moments. must i choose between love and loyalty? i am torn doll, oh so torn." he confessed too. not in the way he or you (in your dreams) could ever imagine.

so please, you begged yourself to not focus on how close his face is to your's and how if you tipped your head forwards, you could place your lips against his.

"you can't choose?" you asked as you stared up at eyes so filled with life that you could mock the oceans for not even their beauty could be compared to the pigment of the man's eyes in your opinion. "i kinda get it though. i knew this would never work. this is why i never wanted to confess but you made me." your smile gave it away that you are still stuck on the same rope.

"i made you confess?" chuuya grinned and clasped his hands behind your head, he leaned forwards even more to ruse his brain into being satisfied with him brushing his nose against your's though what his brain itched for was to have his hands on your ass or on your back or on any part of your body as long as he could feel your skin on his.

"mhm, you did." you continue to play with your teasing accusation as chuuya took a step back and as his arms were around you, you were forced to take a step forwards too to maintain the close proximity between you two.

there is a voice hammering in the back of chuuya's head which is telling him to stop before he does something which will give arousal a upper hand on him but when he looked at the smile playing on your lips, chuuya felt the urge to break free from his confinement.

"wow, this is what i get for trying to teach you how to stand on a skateboard? what a ungrateful girl." chuuya teased, his own grin making you gulp and he watched how you swallowed your saliva and how the lump flowed down your throat before his eyes rested on your breasts covered by the fabric of your shirt and how his hands shook as he tried to ignore the urge to pry your shirt off of you. he continued to walk back and make you walk alongside him.

"i didn't ask you to teach me, you did it yourself chu." you point out, licking your lips as you tried not to focus on his hands on you by staring at his face which he tilted to the side to let his eyes to trail even lower and oh, he smirked arrogantly and raised his eyes in amusement.

the confinements couldn't hold the man named chuuya nakahara who felt something snap in him when he stared at your legs clenching together and your hand twirling the end of your shirt as if the fabric is annoying you as much as he is.

"yet you followed my instructions like a good girl." chuuya raised his eyebrow in amusement and the excitement almost made his heart bust when he felt the under of his knee hitting the bed and chuuya fell on it and of course, you found yourself falling on top of him with your arms on either side of him to support yourself.

"i like being praised. especially if the praises are from you." what shame remains when everything else is being kept in the open? you do not fear the outcome for once chuuya had reciprocated with confessions of his own, your mind circulated and worshipped only one thought ; to lay it all bare infront of him and let time and luck decides what happens next.

the words you uttered sounded like mirth to chuuya but your body being pressed on his, thighs brushing against his inner thigh and the lower part of your stomach being right on top of his crotch told chuuya this situation is very much serious and not a product of his desires forging into a very real life daydream. chuuya raised his eyebrows and decided to take one step forwards which would decide the course of the night.

"now follow my new instructions doll." chuuya's hands landed on the ends of your shirt as he hooked his fingers on the fabric, his heart beated but not as much in excitement as it did in anticipation.

chuuya licked his lips as he felt them drying while waiting and analyzing the expression you wore and he wondered for the hidden meaning behind you simply blinking but perhaps there wasn't any meaning behind them and you were just as eager as him to proceed with this situation, chuuya came to know so when you lifted your body a bit to help him take off your shirt with ease.

looking at the surprise flashing through his pupils for its rather rare for the tease to be caught off guard, you knew you would not miss this opportunity,

"what? am i not following your instructions correctly?" your grin faltered when chuuya pulled the shirt over your head before using it to tie your hands together behind your back, the action was carried with such precise and swift movements that you didn't realize it until he had done it.

"you look so adorable when you are at a loss of words." chuuya sighed fondly, grinning at your choice of wearing a lacy baby pink bra and suddenly you felt hot.

if you were feeling hot before then you are burning right now under the scorching stare of chuuya whose eyes frantically looked over each inch of your skin and those covered mounds you were unexpectedly testing his patience with.

chuuya extended his hand towards one of your boobs and he rubbed his thumb over your nipple to watch it perk up under his finger.

maybe it's the thrill of finally living the scenario you imagine on many nights when your fingers are knuckle deep in your core and you are a moaning mess for the guy who you weren't supposed to crush on because he is your brother's best friend but you did, or maybe it's the foreign simulation of a real touch of another other then yourself on your inexperienced body but whatever it may be, the pool of your own slick on your underwear wasn't something you could ignore and especially not when chuuya moved his knee so that it could be right below your wet and clothed core.

"chuuy --"

"tell me to stop and i will but if you don't, i'll make sure no other man could satisfy you like i do." he muttered in absolute seriousness as if he meant every single touch and caress on the curves of your waist and you shook your head and for emphasis, you humped against his knee to let him feel the wetness he caused.

"don't stop, please chuuya. choose me for once -- for my body, doesn't matter. i know you won't betray my brother by dating me, i never expected you to, but please. just be mine tonigh --"

your words didn't get the freedom to be spilt out into the atmosphere as chuuya shuts you by tugging at the restraint on your hand to pull you down and kissing you, his hand came to find its place on the curve of your jaw which he carassed as if to soothe your nerves or to control himself from pouncing at you at the moment.

"shut the fuck up." he gritted as soon as the short kiss shared between you two were over but looking at your glossed lips and flushed face as you tried to grasp your breath stolen by him and his kiss and chuuya pulled your face down using the hold he had on your jaw.

your eyes immediately screwed shut at the feeling of his soft lips moving on your's before he tilted your head to acquire an angle which would make it easy for him to push his tongue into your mouth, at that your heart began beating fast again while your cells celebrated that its finally happening.

maybe this is why you began taking ragged breaths which lead chuuya to increase the passion he excreted in this make out session. his free hand went down and towards your shorts after which he teasingly pulled them down only to abandon them and watch it smack your skin, the hiss that left your lips gave chuuya the opportunity to push his tongue deeper into your mouth.

you wanted to caress his cheek, touch his abs and run your hand through his hair but due to the restraints on your hands, all you could do was whine in the kiss, chuuya pushed his knee up a bit to hit it against your wet core and you immediately lost any energy you had. this one touch from him had you going limp as your body leaned on his.

chuuya pulled back from the kiss to look at your eyes still closed with his own eyes glazed with arousal which broke through every confinement and restraints.

chuuya's both hands landed on either of your hips and he lifted you up before turning you both around so you would be the one lying on his bed and suddenly the way his smell infiltrated your nose had you gulping thickly. in excitement, in anticipation.

chuuya planted one hand beside your head as with the other, he pulled down his sweatpants before cursing under his breath. sweat dribbled down his temple and all the way from his cheek to his neck to his collarbone before disappearing beneath his shirt.

and when you raised your eyes again, you saw the man already staring at you as he smiled in what seemed like embarrassment.

but can a man like him even have something to be embarrassed about? oh, don't you know, chuuya? you make others embarrassed with just how ethereal and angel like you look.

he isn't the angel though.

the way his lips parted to let his tongue out to moisten his bottom lip made it clear so or else why would you release a shaky breath suppressing desire?

"give me a minute doll?" he muttered so lazily but just as energetically did his hands pinch your nipples again.

you nodded and chuuya raised to his feet to lean towards the nightstand as he opened the drawer and began to shuffle through the many objects placed in it.

"fuck, where . . . is it . . .?" you heard chuuya mutter under his breath and you raised your feet to trace it along his waist to tease him and rile him up.

"you keep condoms so casually chu?" your voice was purposely toned to sound pouty as chuuya spared you a glance over his shoulder and he grinned before looking back at the task in hand and a sigh of relief left him when he found the packet he was looking for.

"i do not fuck around like it's second nature for me doll. when you have a house which is the usual spot for any parties, you better keep condoms." vaguely he answered but the way he winked gave you the reassurance that you won't be tossed aside after being used even if that was what you originally were ready to accept if it meant he would give in to his and your urges.

"virgin?"is the only word you mutter as you watch the process of chuuya slowly pulling down and removing his sweatpants and boxers away from his body before he ripped the condom package off and he looks at you while not stopping with his actions.

chuuya tilted his head to the side with a smirk, "why don't you tell me that."

and as chuuya approached you again, he raised the ends of his shirt over his head before tossing it to the side and leaning over you again, "tell me if i am a virgin or not doll," he cooed, alright, but his words and their loving tone was a very big contrast to the way his hands greedily raised one of your legs up to pull your shorts and underwear down in one go.

you sinked into the mattress even more as chuuya parted your legs apart, hissing at the sight of your wet core which glistened as the dim lights of his room fell on them.

chuuya raised his hand to trace over your folds and relished at how his finger got coated with your wetness, chuuya looked up as your thigh had twitched at this action of his.

"first time?" he asked and when you nodded a bit awkwardly, chuuya had this sudden urge to go on his knees and kiss his way up your inner thigh towards your cunt before ravishing it -- but he would get another day to do it. right now, if his angry dick doesn't enter you, he will go insane.

so he rather leans down to plant a kiss on the tip of your nose before making his way down and at the same time he taps on your stomach to let you know to lift yourself for him which you do, arching your back so chuuya could put his hand on your back before his hand trailed upwards to unclasp your bra.

chuuya leaned back and pulled you along by pulling on your tied hands, he sat on the bed and pulled you on his lap a bit harshly before immediately sucking on your nipple while his one hand remained to hold your hands over your head and the other carassed your hip.

the latter hand then began to travel downwards and you would've loved to focus on his touch if it wasn't for the way he nibbled on your nipple lightly before beginning to suck on it. his hand began to rub your clit teasingly with nothing but the tip of his fingernail -- all while he ignored his hard dick throbbing for attention.

"fuck, what a good girl." chuuya hissed under his breath as if the man could not physically stop himself from admiring you and if one thinks so, then let's also know the fact that mentally, chuuya couldn't even look away for even a fraction of a second.

to control himself is like controlling a starving beast with a fawn left unsupervised and unattended infront of him and the only thing restricting the beast was the pathetic chain on it's collar.

you whine, raise your eyes to look into chuuya's before you lean near him to capture his lips in a kiss which soon is being led by him.

the chain snaps and the beast pounced on the fawn.

chuuya falls down on the bed as his hands reach to grope your ass, your hands are still behind your back as you try to match his pace in the messy kiss and it is when you separated to take a breath that chuuya mumbled,

"ride me, doll? go at your pace, i just want your first time to feel good since it's with me --" the smirk and the tone made it clear how cocky and proud he is of himself. " -- come on, don't you want to feel good and make me feel good too? what are you hesitating for dear? i'll be here to guide you." he coos. the way how confidence sprouts from each pore of his body is something only he could pull off for he has the skills to back up every claim yet with a man like him, one would clearly not imagine him to be gentle.

he isn't but that's something you came to know only after you had gulped nervously before sinking down on his dick slowly as he advised you to take him inch by inch. the foreign intrusion burned and with each inch of him sinking into you, you could feel your walls stretching and it felt as if they were almost being ripped apart.

chuuya isn't a man of gentleness in bed usually but seeing you bite your lip as you screwed your eyes shut thinking it would help you tolerate the pain, chuuya wanted to be nothing but be tender with you who is acting so docile. but chuuya can't help but snicker, he can't help but be mean and with the way your walls are suffocating his cock, he is sure you like this behavior a bit too much as well.

his hands are on your hips to be the only source of stability for your hands are behind your back, tied and even if chuuya knew you needed time to get used to the foreign feeling of his dick inside you, he couldn't stop from pulling his hand away from your hip and smacking it lightly to watch you yelp in surprise.

"don't be mean chu." you stutter, eyes opening to glare lightly at him without holding any negative emotions, you could feel the pain fading away.

"just because you are sitting on my dick and on top of me doesn't mean you are in charge." chuuya smirked and when your glare didn't falter and you continued doing so, chuuya snickered before humming lazily.

"fine, if you think you are such a big girl, go on and fuck yourself on my cock." he emphasized his words by thrusting upwards into you and the new, first time feeling along with the way it was done so suddenly had you moaning in pleasure, body leaning to fall forwards on chuuya's chest.

chuuya peeked down at you to make sure his thrust didn't hurt you but when he saw you staring at him with half lidded eyes, he couldn't help but laugh mockingly, bringing his hand to pinch your cheek.

"not glaring anymore, are we? was this it? you needed to be fucked to be put in your place?" chuuya patted your cheek and smirked, "ride me."

it wasn't a suggestion or a loving and thoughtful gesture of him like it was before but a demand which left no room for argument, not that you would be trying to do so as you wanted to feel more of him, the warm dick between your walls and the way his thrust made you almost close your eyes felt nice, felt addicting and you grew greedy to want more.

chuuya grabs your hips again to pull you back in a sitting position on his dick and waited before you finally began to move up and down his dick. sure, the rhythm was off beat and the movements you made were slow and not precise but it didn't matter for the euphoria settling in him is something he felt before only once maybe -- the first time he had shifted to the area you lived in and befriended you, at that time he felt satisfied with himself to know he isn't going to be a sore thumb or an outcast, that he has a cute girl and her brother his age to keep him company and help him get familiar with the area. but the satisfaction now is not of the same category except the fact that both these feelings were stimulated when you were near him.

right now, the way your walls are squeezing his dick and suffocating it makes up for your sloppy movements, the epiphany of being this intimate with the girl who he once only touched in his dreams is making this way more satisfying then any of the other nights he had with anyone else.

you moaning his name is what snapped him out of his daze, he looked down at you to smile to see that you found the pace which you are the most comfortable in and it's way better then what you were doing in the beginning.

a moan left your lips and got tangled with the groan that chuuya released as he continued to look up at you, cheeks blushing, eyes wide and taking in every inch of your tits jiggling and the way he had to tighten his grip on your hips to stabilize you on him.

as you went up and down on him, your slick coated his length more and more made it easier to move but the burn on your thighs after some time couldn't be ignored, you weren't used to this and chuuya decided to take matters into his hands when he felt your pace slowing down.

"can't even trust you to fuck yourself. guess i have to teach you how to ride a dick huh, oh what a cutie." chuuya cooed as he found himself filled to the brim with adoration but when he felt it overflowing, the adoration transformed into lust.

you closed your eyes as chuuya grabbed you by your curves, lifting you up a bit as he adjusted himself beneath you to be in a position where he could look at you without having to lift his head much (he had placed two pillows beneath his head to do so) and began to thrust upwards into you after immediately making you take all of him.

you moaned out loud as you digged your nails into your palms as chuuya's pace seemed to increase with each passing second and you felt as if there is not even as much as a second for you to breath.

your lower abdomen is where the pleasure started before it surged through your entire body, chuuya's hands on your waist were sure to leave bruises but it didn't matter at the moment when he kept on trying to grope the flesh his greedy fingers could find.

chuuya had you sitting on him with his knees behind to support you from falling, the wetness only seemed to make the sound of his balls slapping against your asscheeks reverberate in the room. chuua grabbed your thigh before parting your leg a bit so he could hit more precisely.

you looked at chuuya to see him glaring down at your jiggling tits with narrowed eyes as he tried to find something -- you don't know what but he looked focused on whatever he is trying to do. you looked over your shoulder at your tied up hands and when you looked back at chuuya again, he flicked your clit which made you moan loudly.

chuuya placed his hand on your back, just barely above your ass as he pushed you forward so you could be laying on him.

chuuya looked down to see your tits squeezed against his chest and he gathered a glob of saliva before spitting it on your chest, a breathless moan left his mouth when he saw his saliva trail down the valley of your breasts. he pressed his hands on your asscheeks to push you against him and raised one of his hands to grab the back of your thigh to push your leg apart and as he thrusted after doing so, you felt his tip graze the spongy wall that had you crying out in pleasure.

the thrust which follows the first one had more impact as it made sure to hit against your spot, making you curl your toes and arch your back. your tits pressed against his chest more in the process of doing so and so did your walls which clenched his dick, chuuya moaned closing his eyes and thrusting again.

you are the one having your first time with him yet why does he feel as if it's the opposite? he never felt like so.

chuuya slowly opened his eyes and what greeted his sight is a picture he will keep alive in his head till the next time he gets to have his hands on you -- your eyes closed as you laid on his chest, lips parted and he could see you drooling a bit and oh, chuuya felt his breath getting stuck in his throat.

he raised his hand to caress your cheek before pinching it and pulling you towards him using it, kissing the tip of your nose. this gesture made you clench around him and chuuya's eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he was pounding into you roughly, mercilessly and being animalistic, he used your shirt tied on your wrists to control you, pushing and pulling you to find all the different angles that'll have you milking his cock.

as he pulled you back to sit on him with the help of your shirt, you leaned a bit so your clit could be pressing against his pubis, your head tilted back and oh, chuuya widened his eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he only increased his pace to feel his cock struggle with the way your walls are clenching so hard around it, your body shakes and even with chuuya's hands around your waist, he can't help but grin at your unstable state.

"chuuya, chuuya, let me touch you -- ah, chuuya!" you cry out his name desperately as his abuse to your cunt continued before you finally released a high pitched moan while experiencing your very first orgasm due to something which aren't your fingers but your fingers don't feel so good and if it weren't chuuya, you are sure this orgasm wouldn't feel so good as well.

you breath heavily before feeling your breath hitching, eyes opening wide when chuuya who had slowed down his pace while you were coming off your high, increases it suddenly again, his balls tightening and so was his grip on your waist, he is close too, your cum is definitely being a additional yet very much appreciated lube.

so this is maybe why he didn't pick up his ringing phone from the nightstand as he pounded into you, moaning and running a hand through your hair as he whispered praises to you.

"y-your pho --" you weren't able to complete your sentence when chuuya pushed you back to sit on him using the restraint on your wrist, his other hand raised to harshly squeeze your tit between his fingers.

"who cares? whoever is calling can wait, fuck, doll." chuuya hissed as ropes of white shooted out of his cock and creamed your walls, his thrusts turned sloppy but didn't stop.

and when they did, chuuya raised himself on his elbows to check who called him but he stopped midway, his hand hovered just above his phone when you grinded against him shakily, panting and body trembling.

"chuuya." your half lidded eyes stared at him and this was all chuuya needed before he is abandoning his phone to flip you on the bed, getting on top of you.

"spread your legs wide doll, let me see my pussy."

━━━━━━━ part two.

404 notes · View notes

oceandolores · 2 months

Text

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.

304 notes · View notes