#sarah is in deep trouble

[steveandnatlover76]

Yelena: Wait a minute! … Is that Sarah?!

Natasha: It is! The little Miss skipped school! Look, her teeny besties are with her. Hop on, let‘s follow her and see what they do for fun instead of going to school. And then the little Miss will have a lot of explaining to do.

Yelena: Oh, okay, then you‘ll be the bad cop and I‘ll be the good cop. Which means I‘ll also be the bad cop.

[glossgojo]

he looks like he works with his hands (part 1/2)

pre-outbreak!joel miller x reader | 4.6k words

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, AFAB reader, , age gap, ex-babysitter reader, oral fem-receiving, pussy drunk joel, manhandling, abusive ex-boyfriend, some violence, protective joel, panic attack, anxiety

a/n: alright listen up, i seem to have a thing for joel giving y/n head first and then getting his fill, that being said expect a very detailed part two :) this first part is mostly plot and some smut, i plan on making this a two parter but it might be longer

“jesus christ almighty” joel muttered under his breath taking in your frame from where he stood leaned against his truck. he knew you were coming to visit, sarah had screamed when you called and nearly given him a heart attack. you were back in austin for grad school, the sweet girl you were you visited sarah as soon as you moved in. you had babysat sarah the summer after you graduated high school and one summer of freshman year, but then your parents moved near your out-of-state college and you never came back. and now you here you were torturing every breath exhaling out of joel’s lungs.

you were dawned in a denim mini skirt and a tight short-sleeved top that fell a bit short of the suggestion of fabric. your midriff was exposed slightly, showing off your honey smooth skin and your legs on display. it would’ve been completely suited for the scorching texas heat, but joel felt his head swim as the clothes clung to your curves and your face lit up after recognizing him.

“joel! you haven’t changed a bit!” your cheeks flushed as you bounded your way up the driveway. joel had to clench his teeth to stop from looking at the bounce that wasn’t just in your step.

“that a good thing I hope? you look well kid.” joel didn’t know why he added that last part, maybe it was a silent reminder to himself that the last time he’d seen you you were just a kid, and whatever he was feeling had to go. he didn’t notice the way your expression dropped a little at the word, you quickly disguised it with a teasing smile.

“thanks and yeah don’t worry sarah keeps you young, well as young as you could be.” you nudged him, moving towards the front door as he huffed out a laugh and you hated the butterflies that followed. you’d been a little bit in love with the man ever since that summer. god you had missed his voice, rough and deep and somehow still filled with all the confidence you wish you had. joel watched you walk to the front door like you were visiting a friend’s place and he had to admit he liked the notion.

joel followed you close behind as he picked out his belongings from his truck. sarah ran down the stairs and you laughed a little bit as she jumped into your arms. joel had to laugh at the theatrics, if he had known better it looked like you were visiting between deployments. “you’re so pretty, how did you get prettier?” sarah rushed out, excited and barely breathing as she spoke. joel couldn’t help but smile when his sweet daughter looked so excited.

“well, i don’t know about all that. i was gonna say the same to you, you grew up into a beautiful young lady. my little sarah’s all grown up.” you brushed a piece of her hair back, just like you remembered she liked it. joel felt his heart warm a little at that, even if it had been years since he’d seen you, you still cared for sarah just as much and that mattered to him. maybe you weren’t the stranger he thought you were. you and sarah caught up in the living room, joel sat and listened interjecting every now and then with questions of his own. you liked the feeling of being with them. you were across the country from your family now, so this semblance of family was all you could cling to. you blushed at the thought that made you could raise sarah like a daughter.

joel had trouble focusing when you shifted in your seat, your mini skirt not doing well to hide the maddening baby pink panties you had on. he was sure he was red, but he could explain that away by heat or a tan if he needed to. you weren’t any better, losing your focus when you saw him cross his muscular arms.

“do you wanna stay for dinner?” sarah asked and your face pouted a little as you braced yourself to disappoint the girl. her big brown eyes clung onto every word you said when you spoke next.

“i really would love to and thank you so much for the offer sarah-bear, but my highschool friends roped me into drinks with them at 9.”

“have dinner first, you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.” he said it like it was a command less than a question, his voice gruff and your mouth dried up as you nodded obediently.

joel had asked tommy to pick up food on his way over, you hadn’t realized that since it was friday night you would be interrupting their family night. when you asked joel if it was fine for you to stay he leveled you with a pointed look, “don’t be ridiculous doll.” and you shut well up at that. doll. it wasn’t quite what you needed but it wasn’t kid. doll you could work with. doll would creep its way into your dreams and the hours before sleep when your core burned from need, from a hunger for him.

with that you sat down and chatted with tommy and he was just the same, hotheaded but kindhearted over everything. he spoke it like he saw it and tommy got kicked in shin by his dear big brother when he took one look at you and said “dam-“ you couldn’t even hide your expression in time, making joel snicker.

dinner felt normal, as if you hadn’t stepped through the door after 4 years. tommy had gone through some girlfriends while joel had remained single. you would hold onto that fact like the last hope for your sanity. sarah was in middle school now, she had troubles of her own. you listened to her gossip like it was your own, interjecting with your own advice, and joel couldn’t understand how you were so enraptured by it. maybe there were some things he just couldn’t help sarah with.

after what felt like far too short of a dinner, you had to make your way to the pub. you helped clean up with joel while tommy and sarah sat in the living room.

“do you need a ride?” you rotated the thought in your mind, you being stuck with joel in a small space. you’d rather not, after all your roommate promised that you had a ride home.

“i was just gonna drive over and my friend is picking us all up after.”

“alright take my number just in case.” you flushed at his words, he kept demanding you do this and that and because you were fucking gone for him you listened. it was his voice you told yourself, not his heady musk or his big brown eyes staring you down. you let him write his number down on a piece of paper and you nodded with a meek thanks as you took it from him. his hand brushed against yours it was so much larger than yours, they had calluses and scrapes on them. you had always admired joel for his work, and his hands showed exactly how hard he worked for his daughter. you’d thought about his hands more often than you’d admit over the years.

you gathered your belongings from where they were strewn about over the couch, joel had to hold back a groan as you bent over a little too much for his sanity. you said goodbye to tommy and hugged sarah telling her you’d be over more often since she wasn’t far now. joel considered asking you to babysit again but he didn’t want to detract from your studies. if you offered he wouldn’t turn it down. sarah was adamant she didn’t need one but he’d rather you look after her than his well-intentioned bible-thumping neighbors.

joel felt like he’d already crossed the line of friendly employer or even anything you two had before so he had to stop himself from insisting you take one of his jackets to wear out. it wouldn’t get cold but you’d be drunk and probably chillier than you realized, not to mention a small part of him wanted you to cover up when you went out. joel very pointedly ignored that incessant primitive part of his mind.

he did however watch until you got into the car and drove away, as if something would happen to you between the short walk over. your heart was beating as you left the miller’s house. you would have to shake joel’s scent and gruff voice out of your senses, you could feel them seeping into your bones making your head dizzy.

you needed to drink.

catching up with your high school friends was the distraction you needed. you had been in contact with them through the years but there was nothing close to being in front of them. hours ebbed and flowed as you drank and chatted. you felt a buzz but you weren’t drunk, your lips were loose as you told them how your high school crush had returned with more force than ever.

the drinks weren’t enough to dissuade the panic that dripped down from your head as your eyes landed on a familiar figure entering the bar. your ex-boyfriend had just walked in and your body went into flight or fight. your friends noticed your gaze and groaned as they took in your issue. your friend was speaking, their words far away and faded, only when they shook your arm did you hear them, “y/n are you okay, we can leave?” you didn’t want your friends to end their reunion because of you, if he approached you, you would just leave by yourself.

“i’m fine, hopefully he doesn’t recognize me.” you doubted it very much, he had tormented you for two years and took any chance to continue after you broke up. despite your anxiety being spiked you managed to make conversation with your friends, speaking quietly so as to not bring attention to yourself. it all became too much when you flinched when he looked in your direction. you were feeling more anxious than ever, excusing yourself to the bathroom to collect yourself.

as you walked away you broke into a run, scared that he would see you and follow you. instead of feeling better you felt anxiety wrack your body as you practically slammed into the bathroom. all your memories of your relationship flooded into your mind as you entered a stall and felt your breathing stop and your head rush as your vision blurred. you were having a panic attack and your heart was beating irregularly, were you dying? oh god, your hands shook as you pulled out the piece of paper joel had handed you earlier and your cell phone and typed in the number without thinking. it was now 11:30pm, joel was probably asleep. you couldn’t stop yourself as your shaking fingers pressed call

two dials later and the call connected, “joel i’m sorry for bothering you but could you pick me up.” you rushed out, your breathing labored as you struggled to calm yourself down.

“hey sweetheart, calm down, where are you? i’m coming over.” you felt tears prick your eyes as you tried to listen to his soothing cadence and his assured words. sweetheart. you were joel miller’s sweetheart, you could get through this.

“i-i’m at Donn’s, my ex is here im in the bathroom right now.” your voice sounded weak, you sounded like a scared little kid and it made you cringe, meanwhile joel was feeling anger rise at your statement. he had remembered how awful the kid was, he’d kept his thoughts to himself but when you eventually broke up everyone was happy about it. he was already out the door when you spoke, now he’d be speeding.

“i’m on the way, stay on the phone, what did you have to drink?” you wiped your stray tears as you felt your anxiety subside, joel’s voice and the distance you had put between your ex and yourself, grounding you. you babbled to joel, every now and then he’d throw in a follow-up question or a hum of acknowledgment, it all felt so normal you ached to talk to him like this more often. joel was calming you down, keeping you distracted, he was the only thing keeping you from another panic attack and you almost sobbed at that over the phone.

“hey joel?”

“yeah doll?” a shiver traveled down your spine at the pet name. you were so gone for him.

“thank you for this, i owe you.”

“you don’t owe me anything, i’d do it again.” you don’t know if that was joel’s southern hospitality or if he really meant it, either way you’d let that statement soothe you.

“i’m almost there, just pulling into the parking lot, take your time coming out alright, i’ll meet you inside?” you could hear him pulling into the parking lot rather quickly, you exhaled slowly as you told him you were coming and exited the stall. you quickly made your way to your friends, telling them you weren’t feeling well and that you would be heading home early. you told them that joel was picking you and you would’ve laughed at their reaction if not for the anxiety crawling back up your spine.

you waved them goodbye moving towards the door when your vision was blocked, you looked up to meet the eyes of your ex. your stomach dropped as your mouth went dry and you opened to speak, to try and get away but you were frozen in place. “hey babe, you miss me?”

“i’m not your babe.” you gritted out, trying to move past him when he raised an arm across your middle and you felt like throwing up.

“come on you’re still mad? i was just a kid.” anger bubbled up in your throat and your eyes stinged from frustration.

“get away from me.” you hated his touch, you wanted to scrub your body and push away the memories it brought back.

“such a fucking bitch, you still think you’re too good for me huh? you’re still as busted and arrogant as ever.” your vision was blurring and you couldn’t breathe, you looked down to your feet wishing that you could be anywhere but here.

“y/n.” joel’s voice brought you back to reality, you looked up, looking over your ex’s shoulder to see joel. he took one look at your watery eyes and crushed expression and saw red. your ex turned to meet joel’s glare.

“who the fuck is this?” you didn’t speak, your voice was caught in your throat but you took his distraction as a chance to move away. you quickly moved around him, standing next to joel as your ex turned towards both of you.

“let’s go.” joel ignored him, looking at you and trying not to break the fucker’s jaw. you could see joel was seething, his chest rising and falling and his brows furrowed in anger. you’d never seen him so upset, and you knew it wasn’t pointed at you because his eyes softened when they met yours.

“hold on pal i’m talking to you, you fucking her? she’s a slut don’t waste your time.” your ex put a hand on joel’s shoulder, trying to charm him and joel took one look at the guy before landing his fist square in his jaw. your ex dropped in a blink of your eye and you gasped as joel ground out a threat.

“don’t talk to her ever again, you hear?” your ex nodded furiously from where he lay on the ground, rushing out a yes in between a string of curses. you let joel pull you away, your ex crying out and wailing in pain as you left. you couldn’t think as you followed joel, his hand on yours. it enclosed yours fully, rough and warm around your hand and you let it distract you.

joel miller had just punched your ex and rescued you, you couldn’t think straight blinded by one thought and one thought only. you just wanted to-your hands found his face as you stopped in front of the passenger door, you moved quickly as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. joel’s expression changed from anger to confusion and then something else you couldn’t place in the streetlight lit parking lot. and then you felt panic as he didn’t look particularly happy with your actions.

“i’m sorry we can forget-“ you leaned against the closed door, removing your hands and creating some distance for him.

“no darlin’ don’t apologize, just wondering if you’ll remember this tomorrow.” joel could taste whiskey on your lips, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he took advantage of you being drunk.

“joel, i’ve never felt more sober.”

“good.” he took the hand that had been holding yours, the one that didn’t touch your ex and tilted your chin up, and your eyes met his. they were looked like honey and you wanted to swim in them. joel leaned his head, brushing his lips against yours and you could feel his facial hair scrape against your soft skin. it lit a fire within you. your arms came up around his neck, his hand moving to the small of your back, deliciously pulling you closer and you gasped into his mouth. joel tasted like heaven, just his breath alone was making you dizzy as you let him explore your mouth and make your lips mold to his. despite his intimidating exterior, joel kissed you like you were the only person on earth, taking his time to draw gasps from you and when his mouth moved off yours to dip under your jaw you lost your mind. your hands came up to press his head into the space between your head and your chest, as he littered your skins with kisses and nips. you whined out his name, your legs shaking as you raked your hands through his hair, probably leaving it as a mess. you opened your eyes to take him in, his lips puffy and his hair a mess, his breathing was as hard as yours and his big brown eyes had darkened.

“joel, please.” your hands were still in his hair, as you whispered into the fraction between your lips between sloppy kisses.

“please what doll?” did you have to say it? joel could read your mind, your thoughts written on your face from your cloudy eyes to your parted puffy lips. you looked wrecked and all he had done was kiss you. joel didn’t think he could hold back much longer, but he wanted you to be sure. you shivered as he leaned back, his warmth leaving you and his piercing gaze making you squirm. you managed to cough up the courage to speak next.

“come back to my place, my roommate is at her boyfriend’s place.” joel’s eyes flashed with desire, his hand shooting out to your hip, grazing the exposed patch of skin above your skirt and opening the passenger door. you shivered against at the feel of his hand against you, god you were pathetic but at least you could blame it on the slight chill of the night.

“get in.” you didn’t think twice as you turned to get in, joel holding the door open for you and feeling his sanity crumble when your damn skirt hiked up again. when joel got into the car you began to take in everything that happened.

“is your hand okay?” he’d been carefully keeping it away from you and when he was driving. it didn’t look broken under the city lights but you could bet it hurt.

“yeah it’s fine don’t worry.” he showed you to prove his point, besides some bruises on his knuckles, his hand did look fine.

“you, uhm thank you.” you couldn’t articulate just how much it all meant to you and you didn’t know how to start thanking him for every single thing he did. joel nodded at your words, not really thinking he needed to be thanked.

“if he ever comes near your again, or if anyone talks to you like that, you come to me alright?” you swallowed down, meeting his gaze at the red light. you felt heat travel south, the prospect of joel being there for you if anyone disrespected you made you clench your legs together. pressure building in your core, joel had to hold back a smirk as he watched you squirm in the seat.

“yeah i will.” your voice sounded breathy, your heart was beating so fast in your chest you wanted the car ride to be over so you could feel his lips against yours again. you needed him so badly your hands itched to find home in his hair again.

the rest of the car ride was silent, only interrupted by you giving him directions to get to your apartment.

you made your way to the apartment with joel following you closely behind, his eyes not moving from the view of your curves. you unlocked your door, throwing your pursed on your couch and turning towards joel, he took in your place. there were unopened boxes strewn about and minimal furtiniture but the place was plenty big for two students.

“can i get you something to drink?” you stood against the back of your sofa, looking at joel when he met your gaze. his stepped towards you, hands finding purchase on your hips, his thumbs grazed your skin and you felt dizzy looking into his eyes.

“just you.” confusion flashed on your face replaced quickly by awe as joel sank to his knees in front of you, looking up at you for any sign of disapproval. you nod, in a daze, joel presses kisses up your legs as you lean back on the sofa for support, your legs feeling weak at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. you couldn’t believe this was happening.

joel’s face was at the height of your pussy, his hands on your hips to pull down your skirt, and you whined at the feeling of his hands on you, moving you to his will. you'd fantasized about the rough pads of his fingers against your clit, scraping against you relentlessly until you unfolded for him. joel pulled them down in one swift motion and was met with the sight of your infuriating hot pink panties. “fucking hell these have been torturing me all day.” you found your voice moments later as you processed what he said.

“you like them?” his fingers traced the edges so gently, punctuating your sentence with a snap of the waistband against your hip, you gaspedz

“like isn’t the word i’d use but they definitely made an impact,”

“i wore them for you.” you were barely processing your thoughts before they were spilling out of your mouth.

“yeah? you’re flattering me sweetheart.” joel’s fingers ghosted over your pussy making you twitch under his barely there touch.

“no i mean it, i’ve wanted you ever since i’ve known you.” you were leaning into his touch, preening at the small contact, joel’s lips twitched at your desperation.

“god amn’t i too old for you?,” joel wanted so badly not to think that what he was doing was wrong, but when you looked at him like that he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. you should’ve been with someone your own age.

“joel please, you're the hottest man i’ve ever known.”

“such a sweet talker baby, that’ll get you places.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kissed your clit over your underwear, you clenched on air when he called you baby. if he didn’t touch you, you might just come in your underwear.

“i hope s-so, oh god.” you whined out as he stuck his tongue out dampening the spot where your clit was, the pressure of his tongue on your clit even over the fabric made you moan. you felt like crying from his teasing, it was becoming too much for you. and joel sensed it as he pulled your underwear down on one swift moment, leaving you bare centimeters from his face.

“so pretty, angel.” you whined out, your hand coming down to intertwine in his brown curls, trying to ground yourself. joel tapped the inside of your knee, silently asking you to widen your stance while the other hand, the one he had just used to punch your ex clasped around the back of your other knee and lifted it over his left shoulder. you gasped at the spread, at the feeling of being so exposed for him but joel didn’t give you a chance to think too hard about it. his mouth pressed against your clit and you gasped at his mustache grazing your sensitive skin. on top of the maddening desire you had for him he was scratching against you, adding to your craze.

joel sucked on your clit, his tongue circling and stroking you until you cried out his name, he wasn’t letting you off so easily as his mouth moved south. his tongue licked up your folds, his mouth collecting all the arousal that threatened to drip for you. as if he was a dehydrated and starved man, joel moved impossibly closer pushing you against the back of the couch until it dug into your back and drank you in like it was all he had. his tongue lapping you up and delving into you for more, you kept giving him more and more and joel didn’t think he could ever have enough. you tasted so damn good, he’d remember your taste for days, for years, he’d let it haunt him as long as he could. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when joel decided it wasn’t enough, his other hand coming to raise your other leg onto your shoulder, his head now crushed between your thighs. your arms shook as you kept yourself hoisted up on the back of your couch. joel didn’t care, he wanted to drown on your ichor, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could continue tasting you. the desperation in his actions and his relentless mouth on you made you cum, your arms burned as they held you up and you tried not to squeeze joel between your thighs but you couldn’t help it. joel removed one of your thighs from his shoulder, watching you shake from the overstimulation as he lapped up your come.

“you taste like heaven darlin’” you couldn’t form a sentence you only whined out his name as you took in his slickness jaw and glistening facial hair. you were all over his face and you felt like crying. you removed your other leg and tugged at his shoulder for him to stand, joel used the back of the sofa to help him stand, crowding you against it. you looked at him desperately, you didn’t want this to end, you could feel his hard-on press against you. but you couldn’t think. joel was looking at you like you were god’s single most beautiful creation.

“are you gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?” his drawl made his words come out slurred as he whispered them in the space you shared between your mouths, he sounded drunk and you could smell your cum on his breath. you nodded furiously, your eyes wide and joel felt like you were the most willing prey and he was a predator. he couldn’t find it in himself to care, lifting you by the back of your knees and letting you point him to your bedroom.

NEXT PART ->

[starkeyisthelastname]

Can you do stepbro rafe sneaking in readers room even tho she says he cant do anything and he eats her out until shes begging him to stop😽💗

Your eyes had just fluttered closed when the soft creak of your bedroom door opening caught your attention. You had thought maybe it was Wheezie or Sarah, but seeing the tall figure of your step-brother had you turning the pink fairy lights on that lowly lit up the room. You forgot sometimes how massive he was compared to you, especially as he stalked over towards your bed.

You knew exactly what he wanted from you, the same step-brother that you had hooked up with the previous weekend at Midsummers of all events. You asked yourself why of all people it had to be your older step-brother that you had fallen for and the way he knew exactly how to please you made it all the more difficult to say no. You told yourself it could only be a one time thing, but your step-brother was Rafe Cameron. Once his possession came to life, there was no going back.

“Rafe- no. We can’t.” Your voice cracked as if you had forgotten how to speak. The way he stared down at you through icy blue eyes had your cunt fluttering in the lace panties you wore.

That material proved to be useless as his head was now between your thighs, tongue deep in your folds like he was a starved man. You had only had this done to you once and it was nothing compared to the tongue fucking your step-brother was giving you.

“You better be fuckin grateful. I don’t eat pussy very often.” Rafe’s cocky nasal tone prominent as he reminded you exactly he was.

For someone that didn’t eat pussy often he was incredible at it. You were almost jealous of any girl you had seen Rafe with and wondered which one got to experience this kind of pleasure. He knew you were thinking, because you felt him stop abruptly. Usual perfected hair that was gelled back, now hung in his face. His handsome mouth was soaked from the mess you were making, his cheeks pink from the constant shoving from the back of his head.

“Whatever you are thinking about, fuckin quit. You are tensing up on me.” He told you, watching your eyes snap back to his before continuing.

He was sloppy with it, not carrying about the manners Ward had drilled into his head throughout his life. He couldn’t help but groan into you at the way you were leaking into his mouth, the whimpers above him only making him want more. He looked up at you through cerulean eyes, watching your gorgeous face come undone.

You were having trouble staying quiet, knowing if he didn’t stop that you were going to scream for the entire mansion to hear. “Rafe! Please.. stop. I can’t take it anymore.” You cried, hand immediately coming to your mouth to shut up.

The amused laugh against your pussy made you gasp, Rafe pulling back only to shove two thick fingers in without warning. “What was that? Yeah smart girl to shut the fuck up. You don’t tell me when to stop, got it sis?” He said, his face completely serious as he wiggled his fingers against your g-spot.

[barbiiecams]

baby trapping bfb!rafe omg 😖. it would most definitely be an accident, but now you could finally claim him. you weren’t so opposed to the fact of getting pregnant with his baby beforehand, but because sarah was genuinely your friend, you made sure not to for the time being.

now rafe? he’d be so mad yet happy at the same time. he was very reluctant to even take off the condom off with you, and this seemed like the consequence to his actions.

“right there!” you moaned out as he hit the perfect spot inside of you.

“yea? right there?” he’d taunt, smirking down at the position he had you in. he pulled out for a second which almost made you cuss him out, but then lifted one of your legs in the air and held it by the back of your thigh, plowing his way back in again.

this made your eyes roll so far back you were almost positive they got stuck for a hot minute.

“that’s the spot, huh baby?” he’d lean over and say into your ear. not being able to form words, all you could do was nod. but there was something you desperately wanted from all this.

he’d been folding you up, throwing you around and switching positions all night. and he knew exactly how you liked it. it’s like he could seriously do no wrong. all though this whole situation was wrong, you still seemed to forget that this was your friends brother. someone who’s supposed to be off limits.

but we can’t help who we like, right?

he definitely didn’t care though, matter of fact, his dirty talk never stopped about it. “yea? that feel good being fucked by your friend’s brother? imagine if she saw us now. shit, i finally wouldn’t have to hide my girl.”

and he just continues.

“yea rub that clit baby. soak this cock.”

“keep taking it baby, know you can.”

“let go baby, cum all over it.”

as soon as he felt your release, his came up not too long after.

“shit, you feel too good. gonna make me blow mine soon.” this right here is when you ask for whatever, knowing how easy it is for them to say yes when they’re balls deep, seconds away from nutting.

“inside me? please!” you’d grab onto his shoulders, while his arms were now pressing your hip down into the bed.

his movement doesn’t slow, but his face says the answer as well as his words. “you know we can’t. convincing me to go raw wasn’t enough?”

“i just wanna feel you… all full inside me.” you’d say, almost choking on your words the way he’s still milking out your orgasm.

“i’ll cum in your ass. how about that?”

“s’not the same! please, rafe. just once?”

he doesn’t answer for a little bit, but the way his face starts to scrunch up, he was bound to cum in a few seconds.

“fine,” he finally says. “better fuckin take it all.”

right after that, his hot and heavy flow streams right into you, making your brain feel like complete mush.

after a few moments of just laying there, he pulls out and lays down next to you, pulling your head into his chest. “won’t be leaving you alone anytime soon with a pussy like that.” he chuckles, & you playfully hitting his chest.

—

the only thing that brought you was a world full of trouble. because here you are now, sitting on the toilet with a nauseous stomach, and positive stick in your hand to top it off. this most definitely was not supposed to happen, but you didn’t feel that bad about it either.

taking a picture of it in your hands, you sent it to rafe then put your phone down and held your stomach again. you didn’t even need that pregnancy test. the way you were throwing up buckets confirmed it by itself.

not even 5 minutes later, he texts you back.

“didn’t i tell you it was a bad idea? now how are you gonna tell sarah, cus im not.”

now that was definitely something you weren’t thinking about in the heat of the moment.

[magnetic-rose]

if you loved episode 3 of tlou you really should listen to the official podcast with troy baker, craig mazin and neil druckmann because there’s SO much! here’s some of my favorite things said on the podcast:

- joel stacking rocks was to show that he missed and mourned tess. in that moment he was saying “i’m sorry, i blew it, i lost you.”

- in the beginning of the episode ellie told joel tess’ death wasn’t her fault but deep down she does feel like it was her fault.

- ellie admires joel because he protected her multiple times and as a child she has a desire for a parental figure to protect her.

- frank realized bill was gay pretty much as soon as he got out of the hole and saw how bill was looking at him. bill’s taking in how handsome frank is and “frank’s brain is incredibly attuned to that.” that’s why frank was smiling.

- frank realized bill was gay fast, but he realized he wanted bill when bill was playing the piano and singing linda ronstadt.

- it took them a while to find long long time by linda ronstadt but they always intended the song for bill to sing to be about a long love that was forever unrequited. “it was very important that the lyrics were someone saying ‘everyone tells me that it’s okay, that love will find me [...],’ no it doesn’t, no it’s not, and the person that i long for from afar - i’m gonna love them basically forever in the most unrequited manner.”

- it was important that frank immediately knew bill’s sexuality because frank SAW bill, because bill had completely buried his sexuality but frank saw through him.

- frank originally was trying to see what he could get out of bill (like a free lunch) but the more time they spent together, the more he went “oh, this is a beautiful person.”

- “there is two ways of loving things. frank wants to love outwards - he is sun, he is light. he wants to make things beautiful around him, he wants to care for bill, he wants to revitalize the streets so it’s not just this mausoleum bill lives in, and he wants to have friends. he wants to share what they have. and bill wants to put an electrified fence around them that is guarded by an additional layer of flame-throwing gas pipes and no one can show up ever because he must protect frank from the world... and as it turns out, both of those loved are required but one of those loves is likely to give you in trouble more than the other.”

- when frank put his finger on the furniture piece and saw how dusty it was, he realized what his purpose could be in bill’s life. bill can protect them, but frank can nurture their home.

- when bill apologizes to frank for growing old fast, it’s because he’s afraid of frank being left alone. “look at this beautiful man and the beautiful things that he does, and what is bill’s contribution? bill doesn’t grow strawberries. bill’s contribution is to keep frank alive. but bill is already afraid that he’s going to fail and that is a fear that joel has because he has that fear through experience [of losing his daughter.]“

- bill and joel understand each other and that they’re purpose is to protect others. they don’t care about their own lives.

- on their last day together, bill decided very early that he was going to die as well.

- the gun that ellie takes belonged to frank.

- that letter bill wrote reminded joel that he failed to protect both sarah and tess. the letter underscores for him that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t protect the people that he cares about. but now he has ellie to protect.

[endlessthxxghts]

You Better Jump... (part 2 of 2)

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈9k

Summary: Your neighbor fixed your lock for you. How can you ever repay him? [read part 1 here]

Warnings: Canon divergent (no outbreak) & mentions of Sarah but we don't see or interact with her (AU - she moved out, lives on her own). Partial physical description of reader (having a thick/curvy body, wears a dress/feminine). Reader is a polyglot but no explicit mentions of race/ethnicity. Feminine pet names (sweet girl, darlin’, etc.). Flirty/awkward interactions and heightened sexual tension. Reader’s unhinged bestie <3. Implied age gap, but no explicit mention as to how big. LATINO JOEL MILLER (😫). An oddly weird amount of sweetness for 2 people who just met LOL. SMUT 18+ MDNI: Joel gets turned on at reader being a polyglot LMAO. Overall dirty talk/vulgar language. Dom/sub undertones (not heavy or established but definitely present). Vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected (I’m not sorry), semi-public sexual activity, thigh riding, bit of exhibitionism kink, oral sex (f receiving), squirting (blink and you’ll miss it), spit kink, choking, hickeys/marking… please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!

A/N: HERE'S PART 2 (THE FINAL PART)! ENJOY, MY LOVES!!💚

MASTERLIST

You and Joel make out like that, with your front door wide open, until you hear a loud meow from what you immediately know to be the neighborhood cat who likes to visit you once in a while. You two break away from each other, breathless, startled from the feline just sitting at the foot of your door.

You look back up to Joel with a cheesy grin on your face, and he mirrors your expression, bringing one of his hands up to run along your red and swollen bottom lip. “Sorry,” he chuckles breathily, “got a little carried away.” 

You slowly lean forward into his touch and take his thumb into your mouth, swirling it around your tongue. “Don’t apologize,” you say. You pull your mouth off his thumb and leave a little kiss to the pad of it, “I liked it.”

He groans, his eyes completely black and the grip on your waist tightens, “Darlin’,” he warns, “I need to take you out properly first.”

You slowly back away an inch with a smile full of trouble and put your hands up in a surrendering motion.

His jaw clenches, “You’re trouble, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

You shrug your shoulders in response, “Maybe.” You fall to your knees in front of him, slowly, and pick up the tools he dropped before your little makeout session. You stand on your knees, head in line with his hips, and look up at him. You reach around and tuck his tools in the back pocket of his jeans, grabbing onto his belt loops to pull yourself back on your feet, “Thank you for fixing my door for me, Joel.” 

Before you can break away from the close proximity, his arm snakes around your waist yet again and pulls you in, his other free hand going straight for the underside of your jaw. “Pick you up at seven tonight, hm? Wear somethin’ pretty,” he says, leaning in for a deep kiss that sucks all the air out of you, “Somethin’ that gives me easy access, yeah?” 

And with that, he walks out (the cat in tow), shutting the door in the process. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s 5 o'clock by the time Joel left you completely speechless at his last words, and it’s 6 by the time you call your best friend to get your ass over here right now and update her on everything that happened, including her stupid ass comment that made it right into Joel’s earshot. Of course, she laughs hysterically at that, slapping the shit out of your arm with every deep breath she takes at an attempt to calm herself. 

“Alright, bitch,” she says, wiping the edges of her eyes from any residue tears, “Let’s get ya dressed, so you can jump-”

“That’s enough,” you say, slapping your hand over her mouth.

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Holy fuck. 

All your life, you were never really confident in yourself. You were secure enough in your identity that you knew you weren’t that bad to the average eye, but you also very much knew that you weren’t jaw-droppingly sexy. That is, until Joel made you feel like the hottest person on the planet with how he couldn’t control himself with you. Mix in your best friend’s way of hyping you up, and fuck did you feel unstoppable. 

You’re not much of a dress person, but you did have a silk, dark green spaghetti strap dress that you bought on a whim a year back. You were slightly skinnier then, but the way it hugs you now accentuates all the right curves and you’ve never felt so fucking beautiful. The dress is also very flowy, having a long slit on both sides, stopping at your hip. Standing, sitting down, no matter what angle, anyone is bound to see a slip of your underwear. Which is totally the reason why you make the executive decision to not wear any, and not because of Joel’s words ringing in your ear since it left his mouth. 

You enter your living room once again, giving your best friend a bit of a show before you kick her ass out, and just as your laughs settle down, you hear a knock at your door. 

No fuckin’ way it’s been an hour already, you think to yourself. Your eyes go wide as you look at your best friend, her expression mirroring yours. You frantically look at the clock on your television stand, and, it has been an hour already, fuck. 

You tell your best friend to hide in your room for now because there is absolutely no way she’s meeting Joel yet. She frowns, but ultimately she listens and runs to your room while you run to grab the door. 

You’re already out of breath from the show you were giving your best friend, and the nerves that were building with Joel on the other side of the door you were about to open is not helping one bit. 

You planned on just side-stepping him and making it straight for his car, so he doesn’t come inside, but as soon as the door opens, your breath hitches. Joel is so fucking sexy, Jesus fucking Christ, you want to swallow him whole right fucking now. As your eyes give him a full sweep, you make it down to his sleek black shoes, and in your peripheral vision, you see that your feet are still bare. Shit, there goes your plan. 

“Well, aren’t you a pretty sight,” he says, also looking you up and down, matching your energy, wanting to devour you just as bad. You smirk up at him and muster up a bashful thank you, but you’re still in a trance from how good he looks. Finally, you feel the outside air tickle your feet, so you start stepping backwards into your apartment, beginning to kneel down to reach the heels you set aside earlier. 

He notices where you’re headed and stops you by gently grabbing you by the hip, “Here, may I?” And before you can even think to decline (which you never would), he’s already on his knees for you, for the second time today, and you can’t help the pooling arousal in your core. Your panty-less core, to be exact, which is now only inches away from him. 

He grabs your foot and situates it on his knee while he works to unclasp the strap. When he does, his rough hands are grabbing your ankle so contrastingly soft and situating your foot into the heel. He makes sure the strap wraps perfectly around your ankle, and seeing how big his hands are, you would think he would struggle with such a tiny buckle. But no, he clasps it faster than even you would, and he finishes off by leaving a sweet kiss just above where the strap lays on you. He hears your breath hitch at that, so, like the menace he is, he places three more soft kisses, making the journey higher up your leg. And before you can beg him to keep going, he’s already switching your feet around, and repeating the exact same process to your other foot. Including the three kisses up your leg. He looks up at you, a smug smile and a playful sparkle in his eye, “Ready, pretty girl?”

“Y-yeah, I-I’m ready,” you stutter out, eyes already glossed over. He stands at full height now, his hand falling to your lower back as he guides you to the front door. He pauses, though, and you look up at him slightly confused. “I reckon she won’t be here when we get back, but, uh, aren’t ya gonna introduce me to your little friend?” 

Your eyes go wide, “How-?” You begin to question, but his fingers are already at your chin, guiding you to look at the black Jeep, backed into a parking spot next to your car, with a bumper sticker of a half set of butterfly wings. It perfectly matches up to the sticker on your car, making a full butterfly. “Oh,” you say defeated but also impressed he picked up on such a little detail. It makes your heart warm a little. 

He lets you go from his grasp, and you turn your body in the general direction of your room and yell, “Bitch, get out he-” 

It’s as if she had her ear to the door the entire time, waiting for the moment she could dart out because she doesn’t even give you a moment to finish your statement. She’s already in front of you both within seconds. 

You give her the eyes that she immediately translates as please play it cool, but you both know she won’t. “Hi, Joel, right? I’ve heard lots about ya,” she spits out at the speed of lightning as she holds her hand out for him to take, and she quickly follows by introducing her name. Joel chuckles at her eagerness and his date’s obvious embarrassment. It’s endearing. Reminds him of his relationship with Tommy. It warms him to know you have a true ride or die in your life, it’s rare to come across these days. 

Eventually the introductions are over, your best friend is headed back to her home, and you and Joel are headed to some restaurant that he refuses to tell you the name or where it is, just that the “Drive is worth it, I promise.”

“A 40 minute drive?” you say jokingly just to rile him up, “This better be the best goddamn thing my mouth is ever gonna taste, then.”

His stare breaks from the road for a moment to look at you, then it’s back on the road. But he has a shit-eating grin on his face. “We might as well turn around then, huh? Because the best goddamn thing that mouth of yours is ever gonna taste is not available in any restaurant, no matter how far or fancy.”

It takes you a minute to register, but when it does, you can feel your cheeks and ears heat up, spreading down to your chest, and eventually his dirty implication forces the heat to settle in between your legs. “Christ,” you say under your breath as you shift your hips in his passenger seat, not wanting your already soaked pussy to get anywhere. 

Maybe you should’ve worn some panties after all. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You guys are on the last stretch of your drive, about ten minutes left, and Joel’s hand has found his home on your thigh, thoughtlessly rubbing his fingers up and down. However, your mind is completely racing because fuck you just wish he’d move up a little higher to where you are absolutely begging for him the most. 

As if he hears your plea, his hand goes higher and higher, but then he stops. His hand goes rigid, grip gets a little tighter, and his breath gets a little heavier. His hand is high enough to where he should be feeling the hem of your underwear, or at least that’s what he was expecting to feel. 

“Darlin’?”

“Yes, Joel?” you say as innocently as possible.

“Are you not…?”

“No,” losing the innocence in a matter of seconds. 

“You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, baby,” he grits out as his hand resumes his path to your wetness. The closer he gets, the more your hips try and angle upwards so he can reach you better, and as soon as his fingers are running through your folds, you’re fucking done for. 

“We’re not leavin’ this car ‘til you cum at least twice on my fingers,” he says, his voice completely dark now. “Ya hear me?” He questions as he applies pressure to your clit.

“Fuck! Yes- yes, please, Joel,” you whine out. You shift your body slightly towards his direction, and you open your legs as much as his truck allows you to. Immediately, his fingers slide from your clit and come down to your entrance, spreading your wetness all over you. 

He dips into your hole, just one finger in and slowly starts pumping in and out. You’re so turned on by him that just one finger is enough to make that wet squelching sound from going in and out of you. You let out a moan at the action, your one hand shooting to grip the handle of your door and the other gripping onto his bicep. “You make the sweetest sounds for me, darlin’,” he says to you, southern twang increasing in line with his own arousal. 

“Please, baby-” you mutter as your head falls back. His one finger speeds up at your words, “Oh, c’mon, use those words,” he teases a second finger at your entrance. 

He’s only using one finger right now, and you’re already fucked out, unable to speak or think. You so badly want more of him, though, so you will yourself to talk. “Oh, p-please, an- another finger, Joel, please.. n-need you so bad, please,” you beg. 

“That’s right, baby, usin’ your words for me,” he slides his second finger in, “Dámelo.” Give it to me.

“Oh my god,” you damn near scream out, his words spurring you on more than you’ve ever felt. More slick leaks out of you at his Spanish command. Of course he’s fucking sexy and has the filthiest mouth, in multiple languages, known to man. His two fingers are coming in and out of you at a delicious rate, the thickness and length of him hits that sweet spot in you without even trying. “Touch your clit, baby,” you barely hear him say with how blissed out your head feels. Slowly, you let go of the door handle beside you and bring your hand to your clit, rubbing messy circles on your center, coaxing your orgasm closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuck, Joel, your fingers-” you say as he works you open. “My fingers, what? Go on, lemme hear you, trouble.” 

Your breathing speeds up to an erratic pace, hot and heavy, “t-too fuck-” your moan cuts you off as your orgasm approaches. He makes his fingers bend in a motion that hits you right where you need it, and- “Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Joel.” 

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it, baby,” he says, his movements slowing momentarily. 

In your foggy haze, you find yourself peaking at the time, and- It’s only been four fucking minutes? Never has a man ever been able to make you cum that fast. Your past girlfriends, absolutely, but the men you slept with? They’re not even worthy of the label boyfriend if you’re being completely honest. Whatever the case is, you just know Joel has you absolutely fucked. You knew this from the start, of course, but it’s finally setting in. When he’s knuckle-deep inside you while less than ten minutes out from your mystery date location. Chivalry isn’t dead after all, huh?

You’re brought back from your slight distraction when you feel him pull out of you. You whimper at the loss, your hips raising for more. “I know, sugar, I know,” he comforts, “I just have to get a taste before I lose my fuckin’ mind.” His fingers disappear into his mouth, licking and sucking every last drop on him like you’re some lifesaving nectar he’s been searching all his life for. He lets out a pained groan, “I need to taste ya for real, fuck.” 

He gives you no time to react to his words because his fingers are back inside you in no time. This time he pumps into you with a steady pace but a deep pressure that has you unable to take a single breath in. Your eyes are rolled back, and it feels like you’re drowning. Like you’re being consumed in everything Joel, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sweat is dripping down your neck at this point as the heat spreads from the apples of your cheeks to the swell of your breasts all the way down to your core. The sounds flowing out of you are uncontrollable and pure filth, and it’s riling him up so much that he is in literal physical pain. His hand that’s on the wheel is gripping so hard that his knuckles are ghost white, and his entire face is flushed with the utmost amount of pained self control you’ve ever fucking seen. 

“C’mon, my filthy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts out, “almost there, baby, need one more from you,” his pace finally speeding up in the way that he knows, from your first climax, will end you. He tried keeping his pace slow on purpose, so he can draw out all your beautiful moans and gasps and drag you further into that floating state of mind, but you’re nearly at your destination now and he so desperately needs to get out of this car before he drops his gentlemen promise and pulls over to take you right here in his truck. Unbeknownst to you, he pulls into a parking space that is completely excluded from the general population, and he leans over to bring his hand on your jaw to make you meet his eyes. 

“You look at me when I make you cum, yeah, trouble?” he asks, though it’s not much of a question. Your eyebrows furrow as you look at him and you try to answer him, but you’re feeling too good that as soon as you starts, “Anythinforyou, Jo-” your orgasm cuts you off and your mouth falls open with the most desperate and needy moans you’ve ever heard yourself make. 

He continues his movements as you let yourself fall deeper and deeper, and only until the overstimulation begins to hit you do you realize where you are. “W-when did we park..?” you groan out as he removes his finger from your spent pussy. He chuckles at your cluelessness, “Few minutes ago, sweet girl,” he says as he brings his fingers up to his mouth yet again to lap up your arousal. The action alone has your pussy clenching for something more. 

As if he can read your mind, “Later,” he smirks at you. “Let’s eat,” he adds as he gets himself out of the car and walks to your side, opening your door and guiding you out. “Thank you,” you say shyly, unable to look up at him and as you stand on your jello legs. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The restaurant he takes you to is absolutely gorgeous and lively. It’s an Italian restaurant, small and homey, and it seems like a locally owned business. It’s extremely dim, and the main sources of light are purple and red, pointing in the direction of the live music. You two are sitting in a booth in a dark corner, intimate and excluded. 

“This place is really beautiful,” you tell him with a smile that makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. “You eat here often?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters. Why is he nervous now when he just had you coming apart on his finger merely moments ago? Human emotion is a peculiar thing. “Actually, sorry-” he blurts. You sense his nerves, but you don’t mention it. It warms you that he’s actually nervous. It shows you he’s actively wanting more than just your lust-filled endeavors. You rest your arm along the table, your hand resting palm up near his own, offering him comfort. Silently telling him you’re nervous, too, for whatever it’s worth. He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers with one another. You can see him physically relax. “I don’t really eat here often, but my daughter has dragged me here once or twice. The food is really fuckin’ good.” 

“I’m excited,” you squeeze his hand to reflect your excitement. You’re usually the one making the pasta or any Italian dish you’ve been craving because cooking is what you were bred to do. Cooking is the way to the heart, your nonna always taught you. No matter how traditional the sentiment was, it was one you carry with you always. Naturally, you were a bit reluctant to indulge, but the entire atmosphere here screams authentic Italian culture, reminding you of your nonna and soothing your reluctances.

You both scour the menu for a moment, but you both settled on an option fairly quickly, your waiter comes right on queue. “Ciao! Can I start us off with anything to drink?”

Too enraptured by your food options, you forgot to decide your beverage. Before you can even begin to think, Joel is already on it. “Could we get two glasses of red, your house blend, please?”

“Right away, sir, I’ll be back with those in a moment and take your order, then,” he says as he steps away. Immediately then, another individual appears with two glasses and fills them up with water while you wait. 

Joel’s focus is on the water being poured, while you’re still devouring him with your eyes. You and him never had a chance yet to talk about your backgrounds or your interests, but so far he’s doing a damn good job at dissecting you: your favorite food being Italian and your drink of choice always being red wine, and he got that, all unprompted. 

Finally, his eyes meet yours and the sultry look you’re giving him makes him immediately heat up, his red flush making its appearance again. “What?” He gives you an amused grin.

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean back in your bench seat, “I just- you’re really impressing me. It’s quite the turn on.” 

His expression turns from amused to aroused in seconds. “Oh?” He leans forward. “Tell me more?”

Before you can indulge, your waiter is back, placing a wine glass in front of each of you and pouring your glass a little over a third way full before he sets it down to begin taking your order. 

“What can I get started for you guys?”

You signal for Joel to go first. The look on your face screams mischief, so he doesn’t question it. He orders the filet mignon gnocchi, tonight’s special. The waiter turns to you. 

“Buonasera! Vorrei la carbonara, per favore,” (Good evening! I would like the carbonara, please) you say as you beam up at the waiter. His expression brightens tenfold as he realizes what language you just spoke to him. “Perfetto, la carbonara,” (Perfect, the carbonara) the waiter writes down, then looks between the both of you, “I’ll get these in right away.”

“Grazie,” (Thank you) you say, and you hear a small thank you coming from Joel as the waiter walks away. You and Joel meet each other’s gaze. 

“You-” he breathes. He looks really shocked. And utterly turned on. “You speak Italian?” You don’t remember when, but his hold on your hand switched to running his finger up and down your forearm. Chills fall down your spine. “Mhm,” you respond with, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while you reach for a sip of your wine, as if you don’t know how much you just completely rocked his world. 

“Fuckin’ trouble, I tell ya,” he says under his breath as he tries to casually adjust himself under the protection of the table and the dark lighting. 

After your meals come out, the next 45 minutes are spent in easy conversation. You ask him questions that prompt responses ranging from telling you about his daughter to him being a single father to his contractor business with his younger brother, Tommy. In return, he asks you questions about your family, your best friend, and the question that’s been burning him all night, “Where the hell did you learn Italian?” 

You chuckle at his eagerness. Who knew Joel Miller would have an auralism fetish? You wonder what else could spur him on. “I can ask you the same about your Spanish,” you say as you wipe your mouth from any pasta sauce. “Throwing your words at me while you have me wrapped around your fingers, literally.” You say it so casual yet bold that it does nothing but fire him up more. His self control slips more and more with every flirty and filthy word your mouth utters. 

He clears his throat and takes a deep breath to compose himself. “Grew up bilingual,” he offers. 

Southern drawl with a Spanish tongue? Yes, please, you think to yourself. You hum in agreement. He picks up on it. “Ah, I see.”

“Not bilingual, though,” you clarify with a smirk, mainly to test out just how turned on he’ll get at the prospect of your tongue being versed in a variety of ways. 

One hand of his tightens as if he’s trying to really hold onto the string that’s keeping his self control at bay. 

You sit and think for a minute. You grew up in a mixed ethnic household, so you have a few options you could choose to reveal right now, but there’s one in particular that you know will make him snap. 

The waiter hands the bill directly to Joel. He’s writing down the tip and total as he murmurs to you, “What else do you know?” The waiter comes back and offers you both pleasantries and bids you goodnight, in Italian to you and English to Joel.

You lift your napkin up off your lap and begin to stand. He starts, but freezes as soon as you begin to speak, “Bueno,” you breathe out. “Me encantó la comida, pero tenemos que ir a la casa, ¿qué piensas?” (Well, I loved the food, but we have to go home, what do you think?) You begin to walk in the direction of the exit, but you don’t feel his warmth radiating from you, so you turn back around. He’s sitting back down at the edge of the seat. You go back to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Joel…you okay?”

“Yep,” he says strained, “Just, uh- need a minute.” Both his hands are situated on his knees and he’s leaning over a little. Your eyes drift to in between his thighs and god damn he’s hard. Painfully hard. His bulge is so big it has you holding back a whimper at the sight of it. 

You can’t help but make this situation worse for him, it’s in your nature. So you bring your mouth down to his ear and in a low whisper, “Faster we get into the car, the faster I can take care of that for you, big boy.” 

He stands at full height now, his body completely flush and towering over you. He takes one look at you and his hands are on your waist, spinning you around and guiding you to the car without a word. 

You can feel yourself walking faster than you’ve ever done in your life, and thank Heavens you do because as soon as you reach the car, he wastes no time in turning you around and pinning you between the driver’s side door and his body.

His lips meet yours in a frenzy, it’s a clash of hot breath and tongue, and you take all of him in fervently. His tongue passes over yours in a way that has your knees buckling. He clocks it immediately and before you know it, his thick thigh is slotted between yours, nudging your core. You moan into his mouth at the pressure, and he pulls away to grab your jaw, forcing your attention onto him. “Gonna give me another one, baby?”

“Joel-” you start, but he cuts you off. “You’re gonna give me another one, right here, right on my fuckin’ thigh,” he demands, his grip on your jaw tightening with his words, “Am I understood?”

You nod your head frantically as much as his grip allows you, followed by a “Fuck, fuck, yes, Joel, yes, I understand,” and your hips start moving on their own accord. “That’s it,” he chuckles, eyes blown out in his arousal for you. One hand wraps around your waist while the other bunches the front of your dress so he can see the mess you’re creating on him. 

If anyone were to walk by right now, they would get a full view of your sobbing cunt rubbing all over his dressed thigh. It’s lewd, it’s pornographic, and it would definitely get you arrested for indecent exposure and disorderly conduct. And even though those reasons should be enough for you to stop what you’re doing and tell Joel you want to just get home first (which he’d be more than willing to oblige to for your comfort), you don’t want to. The prospect of someone walking by to witness what this hunk of a man can reduce you down to is enough to push you to the edge that much faster. 

He slightly rocks his thigh back and forth in time with the grind of your hips, the now wet fabric catching enticingly on your clit. Joel’s grip on your waist tightens, encouraging more pressure into you. He lets go of your dress to slip his fingers in between your cunt and his thigh, adding more stimulation to the bundle of nerves as he pushes himself into you to meet you in another wet kiss. His lips leave your mouth and make its way down your jaw to just below your ear, and he bites. Hard. The searing sensation mixed with everything else makes your vision go white, and you’re literally creaming all over his black dress pants. He soothes that part of your neck with more sucking and licking as your hips come to a halt, his fingers still rubbing slowly, ever so often teasing them at your entrance. 

Your full weight is leaned against his truck, and the only reason you’re still standing right now is because of his hold on you. He knows this, so keeping his one arm around your waist, he slowly pulls away from you to bend down and bring his other arm under your knees. He picks you up and cradles you to the front seat of his truck. He sets you down gently, buckles you in, and before he steps away to the driver side, he uses his pointer and thumb to nudge your chin up to his level, and he kisses you so sweetly, the butterflies in both your bellies fluttering like crazy at the feeling. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers. 

“Then take me home, cowboy.” 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Ironically enough, your car ride back to your apartment is filled with the sweetness of each other’s presence, your main conversation of getting to know each other from dinner picking back up. The first few minutes of pulling out of the parking lot and getting onto the main road was you bringing yourself back down from your orgasmic high. You wanted to take care of Joel, so that’s what you started to do as soon as you gained your consciousness again, but he stopped you. 

“Trust me, darlin’, I want you to so fuckin’ bad,” he says as he regretfully puts your hand back on the middle console and engulfs your hand in his. “But, at least, for tonight, I need to get you off before I do.” 

You look at him even though he can’t meet your gaze. The gesture is heartwarming, you’ve never had anyone like this before. And although pleasing your partner is equally as pleasing for you, you don’t argue—but you are confused. “You did get me off, though…three times already?” 

He smirks and meets your eyes for a moment before turning back. “That was just your appetizer, baby,” he lifts your hand up to his mouth and leaves a kiss to the back of it. 

Your eyes go wide, “Oh,” you squeak out. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, “Okay then.” 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As soon as he parks, he’s out of the car in an instant, opening your door and guiding you out again. You walk up to your door, fumbling for your keys to unlock it. He’s behind you, lips hungrily kissing up and down your neck and your shoulder. As soon as you get it open, you turn around to face him, your lips smashing into his and tugging him into the house as you walk backwards towards the direction of the nearest piece of furniture possible. He kicks your door shut and swiftly locks it, his one hand only leaving you for an unnoticeable second. 

You were trying to lead him to your living room, but somehow you ended up crashing into your dining table. He doesn’t care though because his hands are grabbing at your hips, hoisting you up. He breaks the contact with your lips and you whine at the loss, but immediately he’s kneeling. Third time today, you think to yourself, could definitely get used to this view. 

“Told ya, I needed to taste you for real, sweet girl,” he says as he runs his hands up your thighs. “Spread your legs, baby.” 

You gather the front of your dress and let it pool beside you, your bottom half completely bare to him. You spread your legs and bring your hips to the very edge, your core completely at his mercy. His eyes grow completely black at the view, your wetness dripping out of you. 

He secures his hands at your hips, borderline grasping at the globes of your asscheeks, and your thighs hooked on his shoulders. He leaves warm, open-mouth kisses up your thigh, alternating between both. Once he reaches your sex, you realize there is absolutely no stopping him until he’s had his fill. Your one hand stays behind on the dining table to hold you up while the other flies to the back of his head, gripping the curls at the base of his neck. 

You’ve never felt anything like this before. His plush lips kissing every place vulnerable to you with such a velvety sensation, his tongue pushing into you and nudging areas you didn’t know a tongue could reach, and his nose—My God, his fucking nose—providing life-altering sensation directly on your clit. 

The only noises in your apartment are the sounds of his slurping mixed with your high-pitched moans and occasional dirty praise, and you’re sure your neighbors can hear you, but you’re feeling way too fucking good to even care about that right now. 

“Just like that, fuck-” your hips start grinding into his face, “-shit, you feel so fucking good, Joel, yes!” You gasp out as his rhythm changes, forcing you to the edge for the fourth time tonight. 

He pulls you in impossibly closer and shoves his face impossibly deeper, and at that moment, your orgasm crashes into you. Your arm that was holding you up gives way and you fall back into the dining table, back arching while your thighs tighten around Joel’s head. The feeling of being completely consumed by you eggs him on so much that he can’t bring himself to stop. He continues devouring you like his life depends on it, his moans and whines vibrating you deep within. You don’t know if it’s another orgasm hitting you or an aftershock from the one you just had, but all you know is that your ass is completely off the dining table and he’s holding you into his face drinking every last drop.

You use all your strength to pull yourself back up, both your arms behind you to hold you up. You try and scoot your ass back onto the table, but Joel is still gripping onto you, spoiling the entire area with slow, deep kisses. He gives extra attention on your thighs, sucking bruises that’ll flourish through the night. Loving the sensation but not loving the way your ass is hitting against the table, you softly call his name with a smile full of adoration, “Let’s take this to my room, maybe?”

He stands to his full height while scooting you back to be able to sit properly again. His smile mirrors yours. He grabs your face with both his hands and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s soft at first, but tasting yourself on him is a taste you don’t think you’ll ever tire of. Your tongue caresses his bottom lip, and he opens, pulling you in, his tongue embracing yours in an all-consuming dance. 

Your hands begin to roam at his sides, making your way to the buttons of his dress shirt, and it’s then that he pulls away, remembering the question you asked. “Wait, wait,” he says. He opens your legs a little more so he can step in between. His hands are underneath you once again, and he nudges you forward, wordlessly telling you to wrap your legs around his waist. So you do, and he picks up, chuckling at the squeal you let out when your body reaches the air, and he leads you to your bedroom. 

He lets you plop onto the edge of the bed and get yourself situated in the center. He finishes what you started and starts undressing himself. His shirt is the first to go, unbuttoning, untucking, and letting it fall to a random place on your floor. Looking down at you ready for him, he takes a step closer, unbuckling his belt, pulling them out of the loops, letting it follow the same path as his shirt. 

He’s been catching the way you’ve been admiring all day, so he indulges in your fantasy a little in the way he undresses himself for you. With every article that gets removed, he watches your eyes grow hungrier, your breathing heavier. You’re too occupied at the sight of his body, you don’t make any move to pull your dress off, but that’s okay. Joel wants to be the one to unwrap his dessert. 

Joel removes his pants and boxers in one go, and you let out an involuntary gasp at the sight in front of you. He is fucking huge. His length isn’t overbearing, but it’s his fucking girth that’s throwing you in for a loop. Your anxiety starts to rise a little; you have never been with a man as well-endowed as Joel and no strap-on you’ve taken could ever resemble what you’re about to take right now. 

You fell into your overthinking, not realizing that Joel has made his way over you. He grounds you with a kiss, stealing all your worries. He grazes his finger over your forehead, pushing a hair away. The action makes you melt. Oh, there goes the butterflies, again. He guides your head to angle down to kiss your forehead, then your nose, and back to your lips once more. He makes sure your eyes are on each other before he says, “We do not have to do anything more if you are not ready, sweet girl.” 

He’s been pretty dominating all night, which you don’t mind at all, but this coming out of his mouth at the fire of your anxieties completely distinguishes them. You know you’re safe with him. Your eyes tear up and before you speak, you snake your hand to the back of his neck and yank him into you for another kiss. As he pulls away, a tear falls, but his thumb catches it. 

“I trust you, Joel, I need you,” you say as you lean into the warmth of his hand, “Please.” 

“Sit up for me real quick then, darlin’,” he says, sitting back on his haunches and pulling you up with him. His hands find the hem of your silky dress, and he slowly guides it up your thighs, up your torso, and you lift your arms off so he can guide it off completely. Now it’s his turn to admire. It’s as if his eyes don’t know where to look first: at your luscious thighs, your beautiful tummy, your full chest. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers, not meant for you to really hear, but it makes you flutter all the same. 

“Lay down for me, baby,” he says as he continues admiring you. You lay back down again, reaching your arm up to drag the pillow below your head. You spread your legs, inviting him in, letting him know you’re ready. But what he does next absolutely surprises you. He grabs your leg at the ankle and lays kisses everywhere. Up your calf, the bend of your knee, all around your thigh in the areas he marked earlier. He reaches your mound and makes no move to dive in. Instead, he lays kisses in the area, even a kiss is placed directly on your clit. You moan at the feeling. He mirrors his actions on your other leg. Then, he bends forward and begins kissing your tummy. Kisses in the general vicinity of your belly button, your ribs, making his way up your sternum. 

Granted, your body is buzzing in arousal right now, and you’re making a puddle in your sheets, but mentally, the way he is appreciating your body has you feeling utterly content. 

Your hand finds its home again in his neck just as Joel reaches your breasts. He continues his journey and kisses all around, his tongue swirling around your nipples. Your back arches at this, and you feel him smile against you as his hands wrap around your ribs, his thumbs caressing underneath your boobs. His mouth makes its way to your neck.

His mouth transitions to longer, wetter kisses, leaving trails of spit on the valley of your breasts and on your neck. The cooling of his spit coaxes a whimper out of you, wanting more of him. Wanting to drink him. His mouth finally meets yours and it’s slow but desperate, your hips lifting to meet his at an attempt for any kind of relief. His tongue massages yours and you can feel the spit build up; you eagerly try and lap it up. 

You pull him away for a moment, slightly bashful to ask, but you need it so bad. “C-can you…” your gaze slips from his. His hand on your rib comes up to rest on the lower part of your neck, his fingertips grazing your jaw but also softly guiding you to look at him again. His eyebrow quirks up at you. Go on, he’s telling you. “Can you, uh- I-” you completely fumble. “Words, trouble,” he smirks, the nickname eliciting a sense of comfort within you. 

“Canyouspitinmymouth, please?” You rush out with your eyes clamped shut, scared of what his reaction would be. He doesn’t say a thing, waiting for you to come to your senses and open your eyes. As soon as you do, he’s on you again, kissing you like before you pulled away to ask your question. Except this time, his fingertips secure themselves on the hinge of your jaw and nudge you open. Your lips but a whisper apart, his spit falling into your mouth, as your tongues’ tips dance around one another. 

The moans you let out for him are sounds he never wants to give up. He’ll let you drink him dry if this is what he hears in his last breaths. 

He pulls away, a spit string connecting you both. You lean forward, attaching to his bottom lip for a moment more before you let yourself pull away, then you swallow.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” you breathily giggle. He smirks at your antics, leaning in for another kiss to distract you. He reaches for another pillow above your head, and as your kiss becomes more heated, you grind your hips up into him, giving him perfect timing to slot the pillow underneath your lower back. 

You pull back, “Wha-” you start to question, but he’s quick to respond. He sits back up for a sec, “It’ll help,” he says, and he brings both your legs into a bent position, like frog legs, in a way. Your confusion immediately fades as you physically feel your pelvic floor open up. Oh. 

“I thought you were a contractor, not a chiropractor?” you tease. 

“Watch it,” he warns. “You know, I could just,” his fingers graze your glistening entrance, “force it in,” he slips a finger in, slowly. You gasp, teasing demeanor gone in an instant. “No preppin’ this tight little thing,” he pulls his finger completely out, you whine in response. “How ‘bout that?” 

A barely audible please escapes your mouth, unsure of what it is you’re begging for, and you feel your pussy clench at his words. 

His eyes darken, “Oh, she likes that idea, huh?” He’s leaning over you now, kissing your jaw and neck as he grabs himself by the base and lines his tip up to your warmth. “Maybe next time. Right now, trouble, I’m takin’ my damn time with you.” 

He grabs himself by the base and guides himself to your entrance, his other hand at the side of your head. He lets his cock grind against your wet folds for a few moments, covering himself in your earlier climax, and then his tip catches at your entrance. You both let out a sharp gasp at the sensation, and he slowly starts pushing in. 

“Oh, fuck,” you let out.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he whimpers, “so fuckin’ good, fuck.”

Your pussy clenches at his tone of desperation, and his one arm moves to situate underneath the curve of your back, accentuating it. He’s halfway in you and the painful yet pleasing stretch of your pussy has you closing your eyes at the sensation. 

“Baby, eyes on me, need t’see you,” he says, reaching down to nip your bottom lip. Your eyes shoot open and your brows furrow, your pouty face doing nothing to ease his yearn of just pushing completely in you with no remorse. 

Finally he bottoms out, both your hips flush with one another, and being completely engulfed in you like this, he can’t hold out any longer. “Look, doll,” he rasps. His hand beside you snakes underneath your head and he’s lifting it for you to look down. “It’s like you’re made f’me, huh?” He says as he begins to pull out of you until only the tip is in. 

Your eyes are fixed on the sight below you. Your pussy absolutely stretched out, his dick completely covered in your juices. You don’t have the mental capacity to form anything coherent. Joel knows that, so giving you no time to acknowledge his filthy words, he pushes inside you again. This time much faster and much harder. 

He continues that rough and fast pace for a while, kissing and biting everywhere his mouth can reach, relishing in the constant moans and whimpers spewing from your mouth. 

“S-so big,” your voice quivers. 

“But you’re takin’ it so well, sweet girl,” he replies, voice husky and strained. He sits up a little to stand on his knees, his pace faltering momentarily. His arm from your waist moves down to the underside of the bend on your knee. He pushes your leg higher, opens you up more. The angle makes you flutter around his cock, and he can’t help but speed up. 

“Fuck,” he grits out, “not gonna last with that, sweetheart.”

His hand beside your head moves to rest at the base of your neck, his fingers splayed wide across you, giving him more leverage to rock in and out of you. You feel your body wanting to arch up into him, but the hold he has on you and the angle you’re in gives him complete control over you. The thought brings you higher, and you can’t help what spills from your mouth next. 

“‘S okay, Joel, p-please,” you moan, “Use me, use my pussy, daddy.” 

His hand trails a little higher and now he’s completely wrapped around your neck, his thrusts sloppy, but harder than you’ve ever felt before. “Say that again, sweetheart?” he rushes, hurtling towards his release. 

You let both your hands come up to grab ahold of the hand wrapped around your throat. You pulse your grip, hinting at him to squeeze. He gets it, and within seconds, his fingers are right on your pulse points, applying pressure and giving you a yummy dizziness. 

Your breath hitches and your voice picks up in pitch, “U-use me, daddy, I want your cum, please.” His other hand reaches for your clit. You gasp out. Immediately then, a lightbulb turns on in your mind, and a dazed smile forms across your face.

“Yeah, baby, that what you want?” he says as his ministrations on your clit picks up, his cock kissing that sweet spot inside of you, over and over again. “Wanna be pumped full of daddy’s cum?”

“Ay, dámelo, papi, dámelo.”

It’s as if you two were really standing on an edge of a cliff, and you pushed him off with just your words. He roars out an addictive moan, and his release coats your walls. The warmth flooding in you and the pulse of his cock mixed with his fingers still circling, and you’re getting pushed off the cliff with him. His fingers begin to slow, and he’s letting go of your throat. He leans back over you to meet your lips, and you take him in. Quite sloppily, though, you’re doing the best you can with the feeling of his hips still slowly rocking into you, the overstimulation milking both of you for all that you’re worth. 

You both stay like that for a few minutes longer, basking in the softness of him on your lips, inside you. 

But then immediately he pulls away — and pulls out. You both hiss at the feeling. 

“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry-” he starts blabbering, but you cut him off with a finger on his lips. 

“Hey, hey, hey, breathe,” you say as you take a deep breath for him to mirror, “What’s going on?”

He takes a deep breath and repeats himself, calmer this time. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask where you wanted-” he gestures to his cum beautifully dripping from your entrance, “I know how risky that was- and we didn’t even use protection, I-” his panic starting to rise again. 

You put your hand on his sternum and put a little pressure, figuring if your anxiety sits there, it’s worth a shot to see if that’s where his sits, too. It does. He looks down at your hand and back up at you, kind of shocked but not more than the situation at hand to question how you know that would help.

“A few things,” you say as you keep your hand on him. “One, I never stopped you, we both took the risks. Two, luckily enough for the both of us, I’m on the pill.” He smiles at that. “And three, even if I wasn’t on the pill” you continue, “I wouldn’t mind picking up a Plan B if it meant I got to feel you like that inside of me again…” your voice trails off and immediately he pulls your hand away from his front up to his mouth to press several kisses on your palm, bursting in lighthearted laughter, his anxiety fading away. 

✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You and Joel laid in bed, tangled up in each other, for a little while longer, but he could sense the mess started to make you a little uncomfortable. He pulled both you and him off your bed, guiding you with his hands on your hips but ultimately letting you take the lead to your bathroom. 

He guides you to your toilet and starts scouring your bathroom to find your washcloths. Once he does, he soaks it in warm water, and falls down to your level, so he can clean you. You reach out to grab the washcloth, thinking you’re gonna be the one doing it, but he’s quick to swat your hand away with a smile. He asks softly, “May I?” 

Your eyes meet his, and all you can see is a genuine softness and a genuine yearn to take care of you. It makes you breathless. “Yeah,” you return his softness.

Being the pretty kinky and adventurous person that you were, aftercare always existed for you. Albeit, some of your past partners were more tender than others, but none of them treated you in a way that made you feel like you two were endgame. There’s something about Joel and the way he can be so soft, warm, and appreciative. He’s so experienced and considerate that you know he’s probably had his fair share of lovers in his past, but the way he treats you makes you feel like everything back then was solely leading him to this very moment. Like he spent years searching, and now that he’s found you, he needs to make sure what’s his is truly being taken care of in the way it deserves. 

The thought and his actions should scare you, but they don’t. 

There are people who spend years dating each other, still trying to figure out if they’re meant to be. There are married couples filing for divorce because they learned that they weren’t for each other after all. 

There are others who get married after six months because they just know. Then, there’s you and Joel. Obviously you’re not going to marry him tomorrow but as you sit here, letting him care for you in such a way you’ve never felt before, you feel it. The rightness. The belonging. He’s gonna be in your life for a long, long time, and one of the most important people in your life at that. You don’t say any of this, though. You can’t. It’s too soon. 

So, for now, you’ll just let your actions speak louder than words, and show him just how much you need him in your life. 

“I’m cooking for us next time,” you say, pulling Joel from his own thoughts.

“Okay,” he says without a second thought. Unbeknownst to you, he was thinking the exact same thing as you. 

He feels it, too, and just like you, for now, he’ll let his actions speak louder than his words. 

He reaches over and plops the washcloth into the sink, his eyes on you. 

“Only if we christen the dining table before dinner.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks go hot. 

Yeah, you are absolutely fucked. And so is he. 

I hope you guys enjoyed!🥹 As always, feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. is extremely appreciated! Thank you to every single one of you for welcoming me with open, loving arms. I'm giving all of you forehead smooches right now. I love you all. So much.

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy

Wc: 5.3K

Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken

Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 

The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.

Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.

Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 

“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”

“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.

“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”

This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”

“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”

Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”

“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”

✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶✶

The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 

Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.

It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 

The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.

So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 

The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.

As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.

No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 

Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 

You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.

He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 

“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.

Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 

To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.

He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 

He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 

“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.

 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.

How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.

There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.

The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”

The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.

“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”

He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”

With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.

“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 

He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.

 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 

“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.

 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 

If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 

Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 

“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 

“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 

“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 

“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 

He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”

[deeswrld]

Random astro observations

Some content is 18+

I’ve noticed people with Sagittarius/9H placements always seem to stand out in the field they pick or in some sort of way become pioneers. E.g. Jimi Hendrix was a Sag stellium and has a reputation of a guitar God for his innovative and crazy good guitar skills. Teena Marie (Sag moon) became a beloved non black R&B singer/artist at Motown. I just feel like Sag placements are just out here breaking barriers lol.

People with trining risings all have a certain similar look!!

E.g Most Air risings tend to have pointy chins and high cheekbones with prominent noses—I’ve noticed they always seem to have a prominent nose bridge even if it’s not that thin but it sorta gives them this Greek god/goddess look with their eyebrows slightly arching.

With water risings I’ve noticed Scorpio risings have a more reserved look in their eyes and all water risings have a somewhat oval shaped face. You can literally tell them by their eyes lol. Cancer risings have bambi eyes and Pisces risings have doll like watery eyes.

Now, I knew I started recognizing earth risings when I found Sarah Paulson to look like Adele.😭 Which further goes to prove the trining risings point I made previously.

I think I’ve stated this before but hear me out! Idk what the connection is but the moon sign also affects how you look!! I fr can’t stop guessing people’s moon signs at first glance.💀

Libra rising with 1H venus & mercury culture is constantly teasing others!! Wanting to be in a relationship yet wanting to be independent and having no problem breaking things off if they feel something’s not right.

Gemini risings with 10H suns have an INSANE bone structure/hot body!!! 😮‍💨🔥 Their arms & legs tend to be long! Legs tend to be skinny and thighs thick meanwhile their collarbones just stand out, overall they just have great bone structure! I’ve noticed this with myself & Irene Cara! 😩

I’d apply it to 10H suns in general but I haven’t looked into it as a collective thing yet.

11H Aries mercuries only speak what they think is true to them regardless of anybody’s opinion and I love how real they keep it, they’re also very humanitarian and speak up for groups/communities!

Pisces and Aquarius in the big 3 HATE boundaries. I’ve noticed this with myself and Axl Rose!😂 Ironically I’m Pisces sun-Aqua moon and he’s Aqua sun-Pisces moon.😛

I’ve noticed a pattern with people that have Aqua venus and mars and being aggressive…🥲

Taurus venus love soul/R&B music?

I’ve noticed some 10H Chiron people have trouble with work like, they might switch jobs often.

8H Chiron and having a phobia of being touched by anybody and for no reason too?

People who’s planets fall in your 9H might be the ones who you rarely see crying but are the first to try and cheer you up! You might also see them as arrogant or too blunt at times too especially if their mercury falls in your 9H!

People who’s planets fall in your 10H, you’ll see them as reserved and hardworking, they might like to give you stuff as a love language like share their food or they might like to invite you to go somewhere. Even though it might feel a little awkward at times, you both might get into deep conversations.

Not Gemini suns with Leo moons out here causing chaos then if somebody else asks them about it they’ll charmingly lie their way out of it and make it seem like it was the other person’s fault.😭😂

Scorpio mars lowkey live for toxic sex. ✋🏽 Some Scorpio mars & Aries mars I know, also secretly have a spanking kink??😛

If you have mars in somebody’s 1H they just won’t be able to contain themselves around you! You might sexually fantasize about them a LOT too. And you’ll find them hot down to the way they talk, their body language!!😮‍💨🔥

And if somebody’s mars falls in your 1H you’re prone to getting horny like 24/7 and it’ll feel like an intense and passionate connection! Sex might be like, ripping each other’s clothes off and one get thrown on the bed while the other dominates them and they both make out while grabbing each other—basically just not being able to keep your hands off of each other lmao. Also, having sex anywhere too and going for multiple rounds during the day!💀🔥

That also applies to Aries mars in composite too!⤴️⤴️

Pisces and Sagittarius suns—when they’re not at each other’s throats—actually make a good pair!❣️

Earth suns with Earth mars are so sensual and sexy😩😩😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨!!!

Having composite mars at Libra degree (7, 19) can indicate compliments and vanilla sex!😮‍💨

If somebody has their mars in your 7H, most likely they’ll be super possessive over you. 😭

If someone has their venus in your 7H then you’ll feel very comfortable with their love language or feel like you’ve found the one!💗

Sagittarius mars in composite is often grabbing thighs, giggles or soft laughter, a somewhat competitive energy and possessive aura.❣️Also, wanting to travel and explore new places together or talking about moving or including each other in future plans! Also, learning new things from each other or talking about subjects like geography/history and genealogy or about different cultures! You both could be from different backgrounds too or similar but one person is mixed, etc…

Also, when looking at appearance not only should we consider the rising but also the 7H! Say if you’re a Gemini rising; You might be able to build muscle easily or have long legs yet thick thighs because Sag falls in your 7H and Libra is also ruled by venus. Just like how Aries risings tend to have charming smiles and great bodies (7H falls in Libra), etc…

[iamasimperyk]

Lonely -Rafe Cameron

Summery: Rafe finds you, a Pogue, crying at the beach.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Crying, Not proof-read, English is not my first language

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Part 2

Why was everyone around you in a relationship? It wasn't like you were desperate to get a boyfriend, but somehow it made you feel insecure that you didn't have one. You started to wonder why no one wanted you. Was it because you were ugly? Was it because you weren't someone who liked to go out and party? Or was it because you were too inexperienced?

You didn't want to bother any of your friends with your thoughts, and it wasn't like you had a chance to do so. Since all of them were in a relationship now, no one has time for you anymore. And that's how you found yourself crying on the beach on a Saturday night, alone.

You loved the beach and sometimes you also liked to be alone. From time to time you needed to think things through and just needed some alone time, but right now, you just wished for someone to hug you. You felt lonley and the fact that your friends and every other person on the island would be at a party right now, didn’t make things better.

Pogues and Kooks together at the Bonefire never ended good, so it was the perfect excuse not to go. At least that‘s what you told your friends. They didn‘t even question it, to busy being all lovey dovey in their relationships.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about your friends. You were happy for them, but somehow you longed to feel the rush of a relationship too. You wanted to be kissed, held, and loved.

The fact that you were a little jealous of them made you even more upset. A good friend shouldn’t be jealous, but happy.

You were deep in your thoughts when a voice suddenly pulled you out of them, “Ey!”

You turned around, quickly wiping away your tears.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The one and only Rafe Cameron were walking towards you. The last time you had seen him was on the ship, where he nearly shot you.

“Oh, look who it is.” He gave you one of his famous smirks, now standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” You mumbled, not even looking at him.

Rafe caused nothing but trouble the last few months. He was the reason why the Pogues and you lost the gold. He was the reason why the Pogues and you lost the Cross. He was the reason why John B and Sarah had been missing.

“Could ask you the same question. Never saw you without your little friends.” He chuckled, sitting down next to you.

“Well, I didn’t want to attend the Bonefire, but they did.” You shrugged, looking at the sunset in front of you.

“Didn’t want to go either, too old for the shit I guess,” He sighed to which you let out a humourless laugh, “Rafe Cameron is too old to get wasted? Yeah, great joke.”

“Believe what you want, I don’t care, but at least I am not the one sitting here because my friends don’t have time for me anymore.” He hissed.

It wasn’t wrong what he said, but how did he know?

After he saw the look of confusion in your face he spoke up again, “It’s obvious that they don’t have time for you anymore. They are all dating now and you are the only single one.”

Once again, tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. "Are you observing my friend group, Cameron?"

He answered without any emotion, "Do I look like someone who cares about your friend group? It's obvious you're trying too hard to get their attention."

Why didn't your friends see your efforts when even Rafe Cameron did?

“But lucky for you, out of your little group of Pogues, I tolerate you the most," He said after a few seconds.

“Hard to believe since you wanted to kill me a few months ago.” You muttered, drawing little shapes into the sand.

“Oh, come on. I didn’t want to kill you, I just had to get back what belonged to me. The cross,” He started to explain himself, “But it doesn’t matter since I am a new person now.”

“I see, and why’s that?” You raised your eyebrows.

“My dad isn’t here anymore so I am the boss now.” He told you proudly.

“And you cut your hair.” You mumbled quietly, but he heard you regardless, “Looks more mature.”

You nod, “I like it.”

“Did Y/n Y/l/n just complimented my hair?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Why are you really here, Rafe? You saw that it was me sitting here. Why would you come anyway?”

"I left the Bonfire because it was shit, and as I was walking towards my car, I heard someone sobbing. At the Bonefire I saw your friends with my sister, but I couldn't see you. When I saw you sitting here, I knew that something was wrong," he confessed while scratching his buzzed head.

“I appreciate that you came down to talk to me, Rafe, I really do.” You smile a little at him.

It's hard to believe that someone actually came to look after you. Not just anyone, but someone who was supposed to hate you. This person had made your life a living hell for the past few months. Despite this, the last half hour has been the best you have had in a long time.

“Look I am not good with all this emotional shit, but you wanna tell me why you were crying?” He asked carefully.

“Promise me not use it against me?” You asked in the most innocent voice Rafe has ever heard.

He answered with a short ‘promise’ before you started to explain how left out you have felt the past few weeks.

As you finished explaining, tears streamed down your face while Rafe held you tightly.

“Thanks for listing, Rafe. I am sorry I ruined your night,” You wiped away your tears, your eyes puffy from all the crying.

“You haven’t ruined my night, Y/n, actually you made it a lot better. I would probably have stayed at home all alone, trying to drown my thoughts in whiskey.” He told you honestly.

"Better than listening to me whine about my friend's relationships," you said as you hiccuped.

He shook his head, "At least you feel better after telling someone your problems, and I got to hold you."

You smile up at him, “You are happy to hold me? A Pogue?”

He chucked lightly, “Who would have thought.”

“Well, I also didn’t imagine myself at the beach, lying in the arms of a Kook.” After those words left your mouth there was silence.

The two of you were staring at each other until Rafe leaned down. You closed your eyes, your lips were nearly touching when someone called out your name.

“Y/n, is that you?”

[blueicequeen19]

Don’t Play Games

Warnings: JJ being a cocky fucker, teasing, creampie, oral, orgasm denial

JJ Maybank had an exhibition kink and wasn’t afraid to prove it. The guy wasn’t even remotely shy about his needs and he was far more adventurous than anyone you’d ever been with. You’d quickly learned to overcome any insecurities you might’ve had because he insisted on worshipping you at all hours of the day, no matter where you were.

Right now he had you bent over the counter in the Chateau while your friend group was watching a movie less than ten feet away. His hand over your mouth was the only thing keeping you from crying out in bliss as he stroked the sweet spot deep inside you at a slow and steady pace.

“If only you could see how pathetic you look, taking me like a good little slut. This pussy nice and wet just for me. I bet it feels good having me this deep, doesn’t it?” JJ rasps in your ear, his hips getting flush with your ass as he slides in over and over again. Your release was so close but so far away.

“You wanna cum, baby? You wanna soak my cock then lick it off later when the lights go out?” You nod the best you can with his hand squeezing your cheeks. When he rolls his hips, yours threaten to roll back in your head.

“I have a better idea.” JJ’s free hand slides between your legs, stroking your clit until your legs nearly buckle only to stop abruptly. You whine softly against his hand as he leaves you empty and aching, zipping up his shorts with a taunting smirk.

“Now let’s see who can keep their hands off who during this movie.” JJ pulls your dress back down and turns your body, moving in for a kiss that you avoid with an annoyed look.

“You’re an asshole.” You bite out, your core aching with need as you try to push past him. JJ pulls you in for a panty dropping kiss that leaves you weak and breathless before pulling back with a wicked grin. You let him walk away as you glared at his back, ready to make him pay and his balls blue by the end of the movie.

It didn’t take long before the intense thriller on screen captured everyone’s attention but JJ’s. That was entirely your fault.

You kept an eye on him from the corner of your eye but only because you kept teasing him. He was on one side of the small loveseat and you were on the other. You took the opportunity to sit sideways on your knees so you could flash him your bare pussy when he least expected it. The first time his eyes nearly popped out and he sat up like he was moments away from lunging. Then he quickly looked around the room at his friends to make sure no one had noticed before shooting you a dirty look.

You faked innocence as you quickly tucked your dress back down. A few more minutes passed as you pretended to watch the movie, feeling JJ’s eyes and hunger. You slowly and discreetly tug your dress back up to expose your pussy to him again. It was hard not to smirk over the torture you caused him as he sank deeper into the loveseat, spreading his legs wide in attempt to ease the ache he no doubt felt. His hand tugged at his unruly blonde hair as he released a long exhale while fighting to tear his eyes of your exposed cunt.

When he took out his phone after you’d carefully covered yourself again, you knew you were in trouble. Your own phone lit up with a text and you bit back a smirk.

“Think I won’t sink knuckle deep in that pussy right now?” Your pussy walls pulsed at his crude words and you bit your lip.

“Think I won’t make you watch as I get myself off?” You sent back, followed by a nude you’d sent him earlier in the week. JJ’s expression hardened when he opened the message, his eyes snapping in your direction with a warning glare. You shrugged, sitting your phone down and turning your attention back to the movie.

All of your friends were asleep except Sarah as she nervously bit at her nails, eyes glued to the screen while John B snored softly on her shoulder. Sarah was just as brazen as you were so you didn’t feel bad when turning more on your side to flash JJ again. His eyes burned into you as you reached your hand back to touch your slick slit. JJ’s expression darkened but you refused to back down.

You dipped two fingers inside yourself, letting your head fall back against the couch cushion while you bit your bottom lip. After slowly fingering yourself for a moment, you withdrew your hand as you locked eyes with him and popped the two fingers in your mouth. His eyes widened for a moment before his expression turned dark and he pointed at the hallway with a silent demand.

You shook your head, making a show as you licked your fingers clean before tugging your dress back down to watch the movie.

By the time the movie was over, everyone was passed out but the two of you. JJ was antsy and unable to sit still in his seat. His hair was a mess where he kept dragging his fingers through it and his lip chewed raw. As soon as you stood up once the credits began to roll, he was roughly taking your arm and leading you down the hall.

JJ didn’t say one word or bother to flip the lights on when the bedroom door shut. You reached for him in the dark but he spun you around and shoved you down on the bed. He was on top of you in an instant, your dress hiked up and his cock between your cheeks. He wasn’t easy when he shoved inside you and his movements were rough.

His hand fisted your hair, shoving your face into the bedding as he pounded you like there was no tomorrow. Like you were nothing more than a hole for him to use. It was too much at once and you couldn’t get your bearings. You couldn’t reach your clit.

“Thought you could tease me and get away with it?” JJ growls in your ear, his chest pressed to your back as his hips hammer into you. You don’t get time to respond before a deep groan echos in your ear and you feel him finishing inside you. JJ quickly climbs off your body, leaving you dazed and confused as he rights himself.

“JJ, I swear—.”

“You’re in no position to make demands, baby.” JJ’s voice taunting while you roll over to face him.

“I didn’t cum.” You scoff, angry and humiliated that your plan backfired. JJ flashed that signature smile of his as he leaned down until you were almost nose to nose.

“You should’ve behaved. Bad girls don’t get to cum.” JJ leaned in to kiss you but you jerked back, rolling your lip at him.

“Awe, no kiss? That’s fine.” JJ smirks before suddenly yanking you to the edge of the bed by your hips and dropping to his knees. His head is under your dress before you can protest, his torturous mouth sucking your clit hard until you see stars.

“Oh, J—.” Your back bows off the bed, your hands fisting the bedding as your orgasm barrels forward only for him to pull away at the last possible second. A pathetic whine leaves your lips as he raises to his full height with a devious smirk, your arousal glistening on his mouth and chin.

“Don’t get mad because the player plays the game better than you, baby. I’ll finish you when I think you’ve earned it. Now be a good girl and get our stuff so we can go home.”

[goldenroutledge]

sweet dreams

pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count ⤜ 2.0k

summary ⤜ distance makes the great grow fonder, and when it comes to you & rafe, distance keeps you both awake at night.

warnings ⤜ mentions of anxiety, insomnia

a/n ⤜ i was looking through old requests and randomly got this idea. hope you like it :)

rafe cameron masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

“And remember, separate rooms, you two.” Ward reminds you both, but his words are obviously directed at Rafe by the look he gave to his son.

“Yeah, yeah isn’t that Rose honking outside?”

“I’m serious, Rafe.” His expression softens slightly as Ward gives you a slight smile. “Keep this one out of trouble for me while I’m gone?”

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Cameron.”

Ward and Rose were headed to the Bahamas for their anniversary, and it took enough convincing for Ward to let you stay with Rafe as it was.

His reasoning being that Wheezie was impressionable at her age, and wanted to keep the rules clear for when her day would come. As if Ward had no experience in making exceptions for one child over another, but Rafe was never on the right side of things.

That said, Rafe always thought this was Ward’s way of exercising control over him. Ensuring he wouldn’t forget that he was bound to Ward’s rules as long as he lived in Ward’s house.

You didn’t mind it as much as Rafe did, trying to keep his spirits up, since you’d still be the first person he’d see in the morning and the last person he’d see at night.

“It’s a stupid rule, we’re both adults. But I appreciate you trying to be politically correct for my father.” Rafe mumbles, pressing his lips to the side of your forehead gently, your fingers intertwined as his arm draped around you.

“I don’t think your dad would be okay with me staying here at all if I wasn’t.”

“She’s right, son. It’s your responsibility to set a good example, your little sister watches your behavior more than you think.”

“I do not!” Wheezie shouts, rounding the corner into the room, likely having been eavesdropping on the other side of the wall.

“Either way, I won’t have any of my kids ‘playing house’ in here while I’m gone.”

Rafe fumes at this, feeling more defensive than usual towards his father since you’re sitting next to him.

“And what about Sarah? What do you think she’s doing at John B’s all night, huh?” He retorts, but is quickly silenced as you swat at his chest lightly.

“At least we know why you married Rose after 2 minutes.” Wheezie remarks, earning a proud chuckle from her brother from her audacious comment, and from the exasperation on his father’s face.

Ward shoots his daughter a look of warning, but ultimately brushes her off. “You’ll understand when you’re a father, Rafe.”

“Won’t be anytime soon at this rate.” Your boyfriend grumbles into your neck, and you wince, hoping his father didn’t hear it.

“I think that’s exactly his point, honey.” You whisper.

Ward scrambles around the first floor of the home, making sure he has the last of his things before leaving to meet Rose who is impatiently waiting in the car. “Alright now, you all be good, keep the house clean.”

“Bye, dad!” Wheezie shouts, already leaving the room now that the gossip has run out.

“You’ll be missed.” Rafe taunts sarcastically.

“Safe travels, Mr. Cameron!”

—

Much to Rafe’s dismay, you can’t find it in yourself to let Wheezie down & break the rules while Ward is away. Deep down, he can’t either. Not when your eyes are sparkling while looking into his, begging him into believing that you’ll make it worth his while.

He won’t let you get away that easily— he faux insults you, how you’re a goody two-shoes first and his girl second, but by the way he’s holding you bridal style in his arms, carrying you to the guest room, you can’t tell the difference.

He carefully gets you ready for bed, a process of small steps that feel natural to him.

Taking out your earrings for you, he knows how much you hate it when the earring backs poke you when you lay on the pillow wrong.

Doing your skincare routine— albeit he goes extra slow to really ‘massage’ the products in. You both know it’s all in the name of admiring you up close, while pressing soft kisses to your lips every so often.

He could never forget the step of fluffing the pillows just how you like them. Prior to your stay, he even bought the same pillows and sheets you have at home— switching out Rose’s poor taste in linens for something that would help you sleep far more comfortably.

The last and most important step; Kissing you goodnight a million times. The way your lip balm tastes makes the floor seem like a feasible option in his mind, but you’ll never let him.

Rafe is obviously stalling time before he has to leave you for the night, but as he would tell it, he’s just giving you something to dream about. After all, nothing less than royal treatment exists for his Y/n.

—

Rafe hated nights like these. His mind had a tendency to race at night, sometimes beyond the point of return. His only consolation being that you were near him, just a few doors down. Being left alone with his thoughts only made for long hours of tossing & turning.

His fingers itched to pick up his phone off the nightstand and call you; longing to hear your voice.

You always had a way of making him forget. Unbeknownst to you, whenever Rafe had times of anxiety, he’d ask you questions. Sometimes philosophical, sometimes funny, or sometimes recollections of stories that would lead you to ramble on and on.

And no matter what was happening in the world outside of the walls of Tannyhill, or what words were exchanged between him and Ward earlier that day, you must have some kind of magical powers with the way you make his worries disappear.

Nobody loved him like you did, and he made sure to show you he returned the sentiment tenfold.

Rafe didn’t know how long he’d been laying there, heavily fatigued but eyes wide open. The light of the moon created a soft glow in the room, shining on the photo of you both on his nightstand.

It was a picture from Midsummers, candidly taken by Wheezie. Natural, showing the two of you in your element of being irrefutably in love with one other. Nothing like the stuffy portraits hanging through the halls of his home.

His eyes flickered to the alarm clock sitting next to the picture frame. Rafe stared at the numbers, watching the time go by, knowing you’d probably be waking up before he gets any sleep at all.

He can’t pretend that he doesn’t know the remedy for this spell of insomnia; and she’s slumbering peacefully down the hall.

‘But the rules, Rafe…’, He can hear you reprimanding him even through his current state.

Rafe weighs the options, considering you’ll be too exhausted to put up a fight and kick him out of bed. And he knows under no circumstances, would you ever kick him out of bed.

Soft sounds of an owl perched in a nearby tree catch his attention from outside, breaking away from his dilemma and focusing on the balcony just outside his window.

Rafe’s too tired to think twice about his decisions right now, thoughts of you clouding his mind. All he can do is thank the universe that nobody is here to witness what he’s about to do.

—

You wished you had it in you to be rebellious in times like these. Compliments from everyone in Rafe’s life, most notably his family members, were not lost on you, as he’d even acknowledged himself that you inspire him to be better.

To be responsible, to have integrity, and as silly as it used to sound to him, they’re all of the things that he now believes will land him a place in heaven right next to you.

His arms holding you close just hours ago felt like a distant memory, and the coziness of the duvet couldn’t compare. The matching linens from your own room served as a nice touch, though.

You’d been in and out of sleep for the past few hours, and you wondered if Rafe was at least sleeping better than you were.

It could’ve been your surroundings. Hotels, sleepovers, anywhere that wasn’t your own bed had ever provided the same comfort.

Then again, the image of Rafe clad in nothing but plaid pajama pants felt pretty comforting, awakening the butterflies in your stomach at the thought.

When he kissed you goodnight like it was the last time, how could you think about anything else?

Those imaginations were cut abruptly short, hearing a thud on the balcony of the guest room you were occupying. Your heart skipped a beat, and you were about to abandon all of your intuitions about following Ward’s rules & wake Rafe immediately, if it wasn’t his unmistakable silhouette of a tall body & messy hair that made you sigh in relief.

You got up, the duvet still draping around your shoulders, before pulling the thin curtains back in a swift motion. Your suspicions were confirmed about Rafe being on the other side of the door.

He always found new ways to romance you beyond belief, but this was new.

“Hey, crazy. Do you always balcony hop in the middle of the night?”

“I’m only crazy for you, so don’t start.” He mutters sleepily, yet his natural wit is still sharp. Rafe’s hands instinctively snake around your waist & he presses his forehead to yours. “Haven’t done it since I was a kid. Used to get up to the roof and stargaze.”

“So, why tonight did you feel the need to break out of retirement?”

“Would you believe it if I said ‘no reason’?”

You giggle, kissing his neck chastely. “No.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Do you want me to sing you to sleep?”

He chuckles, followed by a soft sigh, almost feeling bad for interrupting precious time you could’ve spent sleeping. Not really feeling bad since he’s feeling peaceful once more, but feeling bad just a little bit. “It’s just one of those nights, baby.”

You kiss his cheek again tenderly in acknowledgment. Your eyes met his guiltily, knowing what he’s asking without asking it.

“You know we’re not supposed to share a bed.”

“Not even with a pillow wall between us?”

“You and I both know that won’t last a second.” Rafe smiles at you, admiring the way you know the other so well. “But he never said anything about sharing a balcony…”

You untangled yourself from his embrace, laying down on the daybed atop the balcony. You outstretch your arms for him, wiggling your fingers for emphasis.

He studies you patiently, wondering if he had the stars to thank for how perfect you were for him. He doesn’t waste anymore time in joining you, holding you close to him.

Your cheeks heat up at the realization that this was the Rafe you were dreaming about not long ago. He had a way of making you forget the rest of the world around you. A little ignorant bliss has never felt so good.

He lifts your chin with his index finger and thumb, kissing you again between looks of adoration. The look says a thousand words, leaving the best things unsaid as it often does with you two.

“Are you okay?”

Rafe feels his eyelids grow heavy, and for the first time all night, his mind is free and clear of affliction. “I am now.”

taglist @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @milkiane @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl @fallingwallsh @scenesofobx @bradleybeachbabe @chrisevansfuturewife @drewstarkeysbitchh @littlementalpolaroids @destourtereaux @iammirrorball

[lvrdrafts]

Rescued by Love Part 1

★ Summary: Your brother Steve always hated you after your mother's death and when he finally gets the family's empire he is ready to sell you off to some toxic marriage but will the knight and shining armor save you or make it worse?

★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

★ Warnings: Arranged Marriage

★ Word Count: 2,000+

★ Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Masterlist

From the moment you took your first breath, you carried the weight of a past you didn't fully understand. It was a past overshadowed by the loss of your mother – a loss that your older brother, Steve, held against you.

As far back as you can remember, there was always a palpable tension in the air whenever you were around Steve. His eyes held a mixture of resentment and sorrow, a constant reminder of the day your mother's life slipped away while giving birth to you. A day that, in his eyes, marked the beginning of his own torment.

Your father, desperate to mend the frayed threads of your family, tried tirelessly to bridge the gap between you two. He believed that time and shared experiences could heal the wounds that festered beneath the surface. But no matter his efforts, Steve's heart remained encased in ice, his bitterness toward you seemingly unbreakable.

★

15 years later...

The air was alive with the beat of the music and the laughter among the people at the lively party. Steve and Bucky stood by the refreshments table, each holding a drink and engaged in a casual conversation

"So, have you talked to Sarah lately?" Bucky asked, leaning against the table. Steve shrugged, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Yeah, we caught up yesterday. She's doing okay, just busy with school and all."

Bucky chuckled, nudging Steve playfully. "You know, I think she's got a crush on you." Steve's cheeks flushed slightly, and he rolled his eyes. "Come on, Bucky. We've been friends forever. It's not like that."

As they continued chatting, you stood at a distance, watching them with a mix of envy and loneliness. You'd always felt like an outsider, never quite fitting in with the crowd.

Seeing Steve and Bucky laughing together only accentuated your isolation. Summoning up your courage, you decided to approach them. You took a deep breath and walked over, hoping to join the conversation and maybe finally feel like you belonged somewhere.

"Hey, guys," you greeted softly, a small smile on your face. Steve and Bucky turned their attention toward you, their expressions changing ever so slightly. Steve's smile faded, and his brows furrowed as if he was annoyed by your presence. Bucky knew how this would end and a part of him felt bad.

"What do you want?" Steve snapped, you'd heard that tone so many times. But still, you were taken aback by his sharpness, and you stumbled over your words.

"I just thought... I mean, I don't really know anyone here, no one really wants to talk to me... and I thought maybe I could join you guys."

Bucky shot Steve a sidelong glance, his eyes silently questioning the change in his friend's demeanor. Steve's lips twisted into a bitter smile.

"We're not in the mood for your company. Just go find someone else to annoy." Bucky shot Steve a look, clearly taken aback by his friend's harsh tone. "Steve, come on."

Ignoring Bucky's protest, you felt a lump forming in your throat. "Please I promise I won't bother you and-and I—"

Cutting you off, Steve's frustration boiled over. "Well, maybe you should've thought twice before showing up. People like you shouldn't be at parties like this."

Your heart plummeted, a mix of hurt and humiliation washing over you. Swallowing hard, you turned and hurriedly walked away, tears stinging your eyes. You found a quiet corner where you could be alone and tried to hide your face as you wiped away your tears.

As you huddled there, Bucky's voice reached your ears. "Was that really necessary, Steve?" Steve's response was cold and unapologetic.

"Yeah, it was. She's always been nothing but trouble, if it wasn't for her I would have still had my mother."

Bucky sighed, a mixture of disappointment and frustration in his voice. "You still didn't have to be so harsh. She's just a kid who wants some friends. You don't have to be an ass about it."

Steve shrugged, a stubborn set to his jaw. "She needs to know her place."

★

7 years later...

The corridors of the mansion stretched out before you, each step echoing the weight of my uncertainty. Ever since your father had succumbed to Alzheimer's and the grip of illness, Steve had ascended as the new head of your family's sprawling mafia empire.

It was a shift that had altered the dynamics of your life in ways you couldn't have imagined. With hesitant determination, you made my way toward Steve's office, a heaviness in my chest that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

Even if he didn't love you, you were still determined to try even if it would take a million years so like every day you brought him lunch even though you knew he was probably going to reject it.

As you approached the slightly afar door, fragments of conversation reached my ears, stealing my breath away. "...marrying her off to Jason Storm," Steve's voice cut through the air, a sentence that hit like a sledgehammer to your heart.

Jason Storm – a name that carried a reputation that curdled your stomach. A man who was known for his cruelty, a vicious cycle of abusing his wives. The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning – your life, your choices, was being manipulated for the sake of getting rid of you.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stumbled away from the door, your world crumbling around you. The bitterness of the truth tasted like betrayal, a sharp reminder that in this world of shadows and secrets, your well-being mattered little in the grand scheme of things.

You found yourself outside, the cool air doing little to quell the turmoil within you. The weight of your emotions was suffocating, and the façade you had tried to maintain for so long was crumbling. Your sobs echoed through the empty corridor as you leaned against the wall, your heart aching for the love and compassion you had always hoped to find within your own family.

Amidst the darkness of my despair, a voice cut through the haze – a voice you recognized as James Barnes, a name that held a sense of familiarity and warmth. "You can't do this, Steve." Bucky's words were fierce, laden with conviction.

His presence was a surprise, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that had enveloped you. You wiped your tears away as you listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest. "Why not?" Steve's voice was tinged with a coldness that had become all too familiar. "Because it's wrong, Steve. You can't marry her off to a man like Jason Storm. You know what he does to his wives,"

Bucky's words were like a lifeline, a lifeline that you had never expected to find. Steve's retort was sharp, but Bucky's resolve didn't waver. "You want to marry her, then?" At that moment, you felt a spark of something deep within you, a flicker of hope that perhaps someone was willing to stand up for you, to see you as more than just a pawn in a dangerous game.

Bucky's voice held a determination that cut through the tension. "No, that's not what I meant." And then the words that would change everything hung in the air – words that carried a mix of motives that I couldn't fully comprehend.

"Actually, I will," Bucky declared. But in Bucky's heart, he didn't want to marry you, but marrying you would be a disguise for his parents to stop nagging him while he was off with whores.

As the weight of the conversation continued to hang heavy in the air, the office door swung open, revealing Steve and Bucky. You sat there, tears glistening in your eyes, vulnerable in your moment of despair. Steve's scowl deepened as his eyes met yours, and without a word, he turned and walked away, leaving you to wrestle with your emotions alone. Bucky; however, spared you a quick smile before quickly following Steve.

[alltheirdamn]

Killing Me Softly | (Joel Miller x teacher!f!reader)

Chap. 2: See me

Chap 2. Summary: To be loved is to be seen. You're slowly learning that Joel sees you a lot more than you realize. Rating: 18+ MDNI (for future smut) Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: pre-outbreak AU, no smut (yet...pls be patient), tension, banter, a fuck ton of angst, mutual pining, language... I think that's it this go around? A/N: trust me, we're building up to the good stuff. I'm just enjoying developing Joel and the reader a bit more, so pls hang tight. It's all coming soon, I promise.

Masterlist

It had been two weeks since you had last seen Joel. You managed to get through the first round of tests and projects for each of your classes, but as the midterms slowly approached, you began to notice a shift in your students—specifically, Sarah. It wasn’t noticeable at first; she was still chatty with her friends, but her grades were slipping. Then, it became her grades and mood. During lessons, you’d catch her staring out the window blankly or doodling dismissively on the margins of her notebook when you were running through the guidelines for the midterms. She lingered longer after the school bell, choosing not to leave with her friends. After a particularly dull day of presentations, you decided to pull her aside after class. Sarah was reluctant to stay, but you reassured her she wasn’t in trouble. 

“I’ve noticed you’re a bit off lately, Sarah,” you said, leaning against the edge of your desk. 

“I’m just tired, that’s all,” she shrugged. 

She wouldn’t meet your eyes, and you noticed her shifting her weight between her legs the longer she stood in the empty room with you. You feared something was happening at home with Joel, but you didn’t want to explore that topic with your twelve-year-old student. Instead, you gave her a soft smile and tried a different approach. 

“I know you’re on the soccer team. Has that been tiring you out?” You asked.

“I mean, I guess so.”

“When’s your first game?” You were really trying now. 

Sarah tightened her fingers around the straps of her backpack, staring at the floor. 

“This Saturday,” she mumbled. 

“Are you excited? I’m sure your dad can’t wait to cheer you on!”

There it was—the breaking point. 

She looked up at you through blurry eyes, biting her lip to stop from crying. You immediately regretted bringing up Joel. You had overstepped a boundary, and you were paying the price. Dipping your head to meet her at eye level, you placed both hands on her shoulders, trying to comfort her the best you could. 

“Oh, honey,” you sighed. “I’m sorry. Is that what’s been upsetting you?”

She nodded, sniffling back the tears. 

“He’s always working,” she explained. “I don’t really think he’ll make time to come watch me play.”

“I bet he wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you assured her. 

“Yeah,” she said, wiping away a stray tear. 

You watched the defeat etch itself into her features, the deep frown across her face, the brightness in her eyes dwindling. You wanted to believe Joel was a good dad, and you had no doubt he was trying his hardest, but that clearly wasn’t enough. Tipping your fingers under her chin, you coaxed her eyes to meet yours. 

“Look, how about I go?” You offered. “I know I’m not the person you want to see on the sidelines, but I would love to watch you play.”

“Really?” She asked, her eyes growing wide. 

“Really,” you promised. 

Your words seemed to have soothed a bit of the ache inside of her, and she left the classroom with a smile growing on her face. If Joel wouldn’t show up for her, then you would. She deserved someone cheering her on; she deserved to be happy. 

Whoever decided to schedule soccer games at eight AM on a Saturday was cruel, but regardless, you threw on some leggings and a sweater and made your way to the school soccer fields. The parking lot was littered with minivans and families walking with lawn chairs tucked under their arms, their coolers filled with juice pouches and snacks dragging behind them. Obviously, you were uncultured in the sports world and came without a chair or blanket…or anything. So, you opted to stand behind the line of parents on the field, swaying under the morning breeze as you watched the kids chase the ball across the field. 

Your eyes never left Sarah while she was on the field; her bouncy curls and lean figure were easy to spot among the other players. She was quick when given the ball, dodging the opponents as she neared the net. There were only three minutes left in the first half of the game, and she had possession of the ball, weaving in and out of the players tracking her moves. You held your breath as she ran closer to the net, the ball easily controlled under her feet. An opponent was gaining on her, trying to kick the ball away, but Sarah did a little twirl and evaded them perfectly to shoot the game's first point. You were cheering and clapping loudly with the other parents on the sideline, watching her teammates swarm her with hugs. But as the cheering died out, you were left with this profound sadness that her dad wasn’t here to see her first goal. 

You let that bitterness grow inside you as you watched the remainder of the game.

When the final whistle blew, the team won 1-0, with Sarah being the game's star player. With a sheen of sweat over her forehead and a juice pouch in hand, Sarah skipped over to you with a bright smile. 

“Great job!” You cheered, welcoming her into a warm embrace.

She squeezed her arms around your torso, babbling off a slew of ‘thank you’s.’ You put aside your anger towards Joel as you grounded yourself in the moment. Sarah deserved this celebration, and you would happily give her every bit of attention you could. 

“Do you need a ride home, honey?” You asked, pulling away from the hug. 

Sarah’s cheery exterior faltered as she looked around at the families embracing their children. You knew where her mind was going. Looking around, she nodded slowly, clutching her drink tightly. 

“My friend’s parents took me here, but I think they’re going out to lunch. I was hoping my dad would be here, but…” She trailed off. 

“I’m happy to take you home, Sarah. Want some food for the drive home?” You offered. 

That bright smile was back as she happily agreed, following you back to your car. 

Both you and Sarah were munching on fries and singing along to pop tunes when you finally parked in front of her house. To your detriment, Joel’s truck was parked in the driveway. Sarah timidly looked between you and the truck as she gathered her sports bag and soda cup, thanking you again for the day spent together. You gave her the best fake smile you could conjure up and watched her head to the front door. 

You sat in front of the driveway for an extra few minutes, debating whether you should confront Joel, but before you could even decide, he was walking down the front porch and towards your car. That bitterness and anger you had suppressed all day surged forward, and you jumped out of the car to face him with a frown drawn on your face.

Joel greeted you with your name falling off his tongue, and you didn’t have time to register the beautiful way it sounded in his Southern accent before you began spewing a litany of remarks about how you felt. 

“Why weren’t you there?” You shouted, your body at arm's length from his. You needed to distance yourself from him, too afraid that your anger would send a hand flying across his face. You had to remind yourself that he was Sarah’s dad and you were her teacher, but that wouldn’t stop you from speaking your mind. 

Joel looked at you with a furrow of confusion and guilt, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. It was apparent he regretted missing the game, but that didn’t matter. Saying sorry wouldn’t turn back the clock and magically make everything better. You knew that firsthand.

“Tommy and I had an early meetin’ with a contractor,” he explained. “Trust me, I hate that I missed the game.”

“You didn’t just miss the game. You missed her first goal,” you snapped. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rocking his heels. “I appreciate you takin’ the time to go and watch her play. And drivin’ her home… and gettin’ her lunch.”

“I did everything you should have done,” you accused. 

Joel swallowed thickly, his eyes settling on yours with a wave of sadness passing through his irises. Those big puppy dog eyes wouldn’t soothe the anger steamrolling over your professionalism. Fuck being professional. Sarah deserved a dad who was present, and if no one were going to call him out on his bullshit, you’d do it.

“I feel real shitty ‘bout it,” he sighed. “You ain’t gotta remind me.”

“You should feel shitty. She’s your daughter. I shouldn’t have to be the only one cheering for her on the sidelines. Nothing should be more important than that.”

“Would you quit lecturin’ me?” Joel barked. “I know I fucked up, and I already apologized to her. Again, I appreciate you takin’ the time to be there for her, and I’m real sorry for makin’ you do that.”

You huffed a laugh, folding your arms over your chest. 

“You didn’t make me do anything,” you argued. “I wanted to be there for her, but she wanted you to be there for her.”

Joel said nothing at that, only stared at you in stunned silence. You were done with him, letting your anger get the best of you. 

“I know what it feels like when the one person you want to see doesn’t show up. I know that disappointment. Have a great day, Mr. Miller. Tell Sarah I’ll see her on Monday.”

You spun on your heel toward your car, flinging the door open with more force than you wanted. You shouldn’t have brought your past into it; Joel was nothing like Bennette, but it hurt all the same. 

Joel didn’t try to stop you as you drove out of the neighborhood, but he remained at the curb of his driveway, his eyes never leaving you until you were out of view. 

You barely managed to put your car in park before you broke down in tears. Everything was crashing at the surface, and you didn’t have the strength to bottle it away this time. Bennett had been your entire world for five years. Your whole life revolved around him, from going to the same grad school together to moving away from Boston to be with him in his new career. You left everything behind for him and were happy to do it because you loved him. Despite his flaws and the “not-so-picture perfect” relationship, you stayed because you loved him. And in that moment when you needed him to be there for you… he was gone. You weren’t lying to Joel when you said you knew what that disappointment felt like; it was that same feeling that kept you up at night when you wondered if you had done something to deserve it. But Sarah? Sarah did nothing to deserve to be abandoned by her dad. All she wanted was to see that one person cheering her on from the sidelines, to hug her and tell her she was loved. 

She didn’t get that today. 

And you didn’t get that two years ago. 

With whatever dignity you had left, you dragged yourself inside and into your bedroom, flinging yourself onto the mattress. Curling into a ball on top of the comforter, you let the tears continue to fall as you stared at the empty walls where the pictures of you and Bennett had hung before. Every inch of this house was a reminder of the scars Bennett left on your heart. You could have moved out months ago, you could have gone home, but what was the use when the pain would just travel with you? Shutting your eyes, you let the emotions exhaust you until you drifted asleep. 

“Bennett, I told you what time the cake tasting was scheduled for,” you shouted across the kitchen. 

Bennett wasn’t even listening as he responded to a thread of emails on his computer. The law firm he had been working at kept him on a short leash, always requiring him to be there at their beck and call. Between you and his job, his loyalty was in the latter. 

“I know,” he nodded, still glued to the computer screen. “They needed a proxy for the shareholder meeting and asked me to step in.”

“We’ve had this scheduled for weeks now. You can’t expect me to make all these decisions alone.”

“Whatever cake you choose, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he shrugged.

“That's not the point!” You yelled, slamming down the Tupperware you had been scrubbing. 

That caught his attention. Slamming the laptop shut, Bennett’s nostrils flared at your sudden outburst. You weren’t usually this outspoken; you were always the level-headed and obedient fiancé he expected to have. But the entire engagement had been a disaster, between work conflicts and the constant pressure he put on you. Every day, he expected to come home to a fresh meal, never considering that your job didn’t end when three PM hit. Being a teacher meant your responsibilities began at home, when you were hunched over curating the next lesson and grading papers. You never complained about his workload extending into the evening, either. God forbid you ask for more time together. 

“What is the point?” He snapped.

“The point is that I want you there. I want you to be a part of this wedding planning process. All I’m asking for is two hours together, where we eat too much sugar and choose a damn cake flavor. It’s not even about the fucking cake, Bennett. It’s about you being present in this engagement.”

“Are you saying I’m not present?” He accused. “Because I have been as present as possible despite me working so hard to fund this big wedding that you wanted!”

“I just want you there with me for these things. Even if they aren’t important to you, it’s important to me,” you said, your energy dwindling. He always found a way to make you feel bad, and you looked past it for the sake of your heart. You loved him and did everything you could to make him love you in return. If that meant placating your feelings, you’d do it. 

“If it’s so important to you, then just go. You can tell me all about it when I get home tomorrow.”

That was the best resolution you’d get, and there was no use fighting anymore. He would always win. 

“Okay,” you acquiesced. “I’ll do that.”

Bennett rose from his chair and met you around the kitchen counter with a big hug. He rested his chin on your head as you melted into his chest.

“I love you, honey. I don’t want you angry at me all the time. You know I’m trying my hardest to be everywhere all at once. Just work with me, okay?” he sighed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be better about it. I love you, too,” you whispered.

A firm knock on your front door jolted you awake from the flood of memories in your dreams. The shadows in your room were a telltale sign you had slept through most of the afternoon, which would put a hefty dent in the list of never-ending work you needed to finish. Sulking through the house to the front door, you smoothed down your hair and sweater, trying to gather your bearings. With one last heavy inhale, you pried the door open and stood paralyzed at the further standing before you. 

Joel said your name softly, his eyes tired and hair ruffled at the crown of his head. He looked as just a mess as you did, but most definitely for different reasons.

“Mr. Miller,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

He swayed back on his heels, holding your eyes apologetically. It was written all over his face; he didn’t need to say the words.

“Our conversation earlier ain’t sittin’ right with me,” he sighed.

“I overstepped, and I’m sorry,” you said honestly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

Joel held his hand in protest, shaking his head at your words.

“Don’t apologize, okay? You were right about everything. I shoulda been there, and I wasn’t. I let her down.”

“Mr. Miller, I—.”

“I let her down,” he repeated. “And I let you down.”

You stood in stunned silence, trying to understand his words. Joel watched you turn the words over in your head, his eyes never leaving yours. He said everything you had ever asked to hear from Bennett in just a few words. You didn’t understand the emotions stirring inside you, nor could you control the tears welling in your eyes. This would be the second time you cried today, and now it would be the second time you cried in front of Joel. 

“You didn’t let me down,” you faltered. 

“I did. I want you to see that I’m not a bad father, but I seem to keep makin’ mistakes left and right. She expected me to be there, and so did you. I’m the type of man who makes and keeps his promises, but lately, I’ve been fallin’ short. It ain’t fair to her, and it ain’t fair to you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you whispered, wiping your tears. 

“I sure as hell do,” he protested. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry, okay? I’m gonna do better about bein’ there for her, and I want you to see that. I don’t wanna keep fuckin’ it all up.”

“Did you tell her that?” You asked. 

“I did, and now I’m tellin’ you. I want you holdin’ me accountable on all this, and I want you to call me out on my bullshit like you did earlier. I needed to hear all that.”

“I was just angry. I didn’t need to be that mean to you.”

Joel lifted his hand to brush away a stray tear falling down your cheek, the touch of his hand on your skin electrifying you. You flinched away, trying to curl into yourself. He noticed your movements, letting his hand fall back to his side. You glanced down, watching him clench his hand into a fist as if he were trying to control an urge inside of him. You were trying to do the same; being near him scared you. It shocked you to see someone act mature and actually own up to their faults; it was something Bennett rarely did. You couldn’t make sense of it. 

“There ain’t a single part of me that’s mad at you, okay? Don’t ever be afraid to speak your mind—at least not with me,” Joel said. 

You only nodded, too afraid that if you spoke now, you’d succumb to an ugly sob. Joel’s broad frame was shadowed and looming over you in the dying sunlight, a cloud over the haze inside your mind. Joel didn’t understand the weight in those words, the way they sewed shut the empty holes left inside you. It wasn’t Bennett saying them, and it definitely didn’t rewrite the past, but it was writing the future. It was a future with the possibility that you weren’t as broken as you thought. 

“Thank you,” you muttered. “I—just thank you.”

“Somethin’ tells me you ain’t been told these things before, huh?” Joel prodded. 

“It doesn’t matter. I appreciate you taking the time to come out here, and I’m sorry again. I promise I’ll be better about my anger,” you laughed, hoping you’d be able to brush it off with a forced smile. 

Joel saw right through you; his lips tugged down into a frown. You watched the crease between his eyebrows appear as he watched you minimize yourself right back down to zero. It wasn’t easier that way—making yourself small. Too big, and you’d be too much to handle. You were tired of being too much for anyone; it had already been your downfall once before. 

“Whoever made you feel like y’need to apologize all the time is a real piece of shit,” Joel huffed. 

“It’s alright, Mr. Miller. Thank you again for stopping by.”

“It’s the least I could do. And y’know what? I’d be happy if you joined me at the rest of her games. She loved havin’ you there, and I know it would mean a lot to her to see you on the sidelines again. Think that’s somethin’ you’d interested in?”

“I’ll think about it, yeah,” you smiled. 

“Yeah? Good,” he exhaled. 

Joel met you with a genuine smile, his eyes dancing over your face. You swayed in the doorway, unsure of what to do now that the conversation was coming to an end. A strange part of you didn’t want it to end; the stillness with him had managed to bottle away all of the lingering memories of Bennett, even if only for a moment. You’d take this over, crying yourself asleep like so often did. 

“You should head home to Sarah,” you sighed. “I hope you have a good weekend, Mr. Miller.”

“You have a g’night, alright?”

You watched him walk down the porch steps, the muscles in his back tense as he retreated back to his truck. You should have walked your ass back inside, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Before opening the truck door, Joel glanced back at you, waving a quick goodbye. You waved back and waited until his truck dissolved into the distance to finally shut your door and sit in the blaring silence. 

You watched the night fade away from the comfort of your couch, a half-eaten sandwich in front of you and a wine glass in hand. Not only did you overstep your boundaries as a teacher, but you overstepped every possible rule between a teacher and parent. Despite what happened at the bar with Joel, he was still Sarah’s dad and completely undeserving of the anger you had toward him today. He was slipping behind every brick wall you had built up around you, a fortress no one could penetrate, yet he was managing to do it so effortlessly. And it was infuriating. How were you supposed to protect yourself from him? Bennett had been the perfect man at the start, always saying the right things and showing his love in so many different ways, but even with the rose-colored glasses on, that all crumpled away as time moved on. Nothing about your relationship was perfect, yet you tried to mend the broken pieces in hopes the possibility of marriage would solve all your problems. But clearly, it didn’t. It never even made it to marriage.

You weren’t even considering dating Joel, but that didn’t stop you from doubting he would be any different than Bennett. Sure, he might seem interested now, but that would change once he saw every damaged piece of you. You were hardly controlling your emotions, as it were, so why would you spend the time sharing the rawest parts of yourself with someone who would end up leaving?

I’ll do better, you told yourself. Bottle it away.

Another week passed by without fuss; the students passed their practice exams and had even begun working on their group presentations on the new poetry unit you had created. After next week's midterm exams, you’d be on a plane heading to Boston to see your family during the fall break. You hadn’t been home in over a year, and you were well aware of the fact your parents and sisters missed you. It’s not that you didn’t miss them, but going home was another reminder of all you had lost. But you’d steer clear of the roads you’d traveled down with Bennett, you’d avoid the bars and restaurants he had taken you to, and you’d absolutely banish all thoughts of returning to the Public Garden where he had proposed. Every corner of your hometown was haunted by the ghosts of what had been, but you’d brave it for the sake of family. 

You had forfeited any thought of going to the soccer game out of sheer self-preservation. Being around Joel more than necessary was putting you at risk for an inevitable heartbreak, and it just wasn’t something you were ready to deal with. You didn’t want to let Sarah down, but Joel would be there for her, and that mattered more than you standing on the sidelines. She didn’t need you there; you’d only gone to the game to fill a void within her life. Joel was going to stick to his word, and you’d be able to maintain your teacher-parent relationship once again. You still had yet to forgive yourself for Saturday’s outburst. 

It wasn’t until Thursday when Sarah approached you, that you were reminded of the game.

When she approached your desk at the end of class, she had her textbook in hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder. You were feeling particularly drained from the day after spending most of the night tossing and turning between nightmares, and you had to muster up the strength to keep things light between you and her.

“So,” she started, a bright smile plastered on her face. “My dad said you might come to the game Saturday.”

“Oh, yeah. I—I haven’t decided yet. I’ve got to make sure everything is prepped for testing next week,” you lied.

“Oh,” her face fell. “That’s okay. I know the exams are important.”

Fuck.

You were transported right back to the kitchen with Bennett.

“I’m sure the prep work can wait till after the game,” you smiled, already giving up on your initial plans to avoid everything—everything being Joel Miller.

“If you don’t want to come…” Sarah trailed off, looking down at her sneakers.

“Hey,” you said softly. Her eyes traveled up to meet yours again. “I’ll be there. You have my word.”

Sarah perked up, nodding her head enthusiastically. 

“I’ll tell my dad! Maybe we can all get lunch after!” She babbled excitedly. 

Oh, Christ. 

“I’m sure you guys will want the day together,” you smiled, your patient wearing. “Go enjoy your night, Sarah. I’ll see you tomorrow in class. Don’t forget your notes on Shakespeare!”

“Bye, Miss Smith!”

You watched her sprint out of the room to catch up with her friends, and you sunk into your chair, dreading what may come during the weekend. 

Maria stopped by your classroom after the final bell, skeptically looking at you while you gathered your work bag. Thankfully, you both had Thursdays free of crosswalk duty, and you were ready to get home and sulk away under the guise of cheap wine and a bubble bath. 

“You’re extra grumpy today,” Maria noted, slinging her large purse over one shoulder. 

“I’m not grumpy,” you huffed. “I’m fucked. Completely fucked.”

She barked a laugh and watched you stuff files into your bag before you grabbed your keys and shooed her out to lock the door. The hallways were empty, except for a few teachers trickling out, and you walked a pace quicker, trying to escape the building before anyone else stopped you. 

“Why do I get a feeling this may be because of a certain parent?” She asked, shoving into you playfully. 

“Yes,” you grumbled. 

“Explain!”

“Ugh, okay. Listen, all of this is against my own will, okay?” 

You peered over at her, seeing a wicked smile splitting across her face. If anyone was on board with your confused emotions towards Joel Miller, it was Maria. She had been all for it since day one, and you knew she wouldn’t shut up about it until she saw you and him together. Which wouldn’t be happening. 

You dive into retelling the events of Saturday, including the outburst and the conversation with Joel that had followed. All through your rambling, Maria was squealing like a little girl and inserting small remarks here and there—all of which revolved around the idea that you should fuck out your feelings and get it over with. 

“Maria,” you snapped. “I’m not going to fuck him! Would you quit that?”

She shrugged, laughing off your stubbornness. 

“All I’m saying is that there is clearly some sort of chemistry between you both,” she sassed. “One night of hot sex might clear your mind, and you can resume your up-tight ‘teacher-parent’ bullshit you’re trying so hard to keep.”

“It’s not bullshit, Maria,” you argued. “It’s called being professional.”

You both had made it to the parking lot, and you tried to inch closer to your car in hopes of coming out unscathed from this conversation. But Maria was anything but relentless. 

“You really need to get laid,” Maria huffed. “Dust off the cobwebs and get back out there.”

“I’m perfectly fine with how my life is right now. I don’t need to get laid, and I certainly don’t need to be in a relationship.”

Maria grabbed your hands in hers, leveling you with a stern look under her thick mascara-coated lashes. With her lips set in a firm line, she squeezed your hands.

“It’s been two years,” she sighed. “Stop letting Bennett control your life. He’s in the past, and you need to find a new future—preferably one where you’re happy and in love.”

You squeezed her fingers in return, giving her a sad smile. You knew somewhere inside you that she was right, but it wasn’t in the cards for you right now. Not when you still had so much healing to do. 

“Thank you, Maria,” you whispered. 

When you arrived at the school, the soccer game had already begun. Your car sat idle in the parking lot for nearly twenty minutes until you finally found the strength to head toward the soccer fields. Among the line of parents on the sidelines, Joel was standing further away, his body swaying against the windy morning as his eyes stay focused on the field. You walked up slowly, smoothing out your t-shirt and running sweaty palms over your jeans. You definitely didn’t spend too much time getting ready for a simple game. As if he felt your energy circling him, Joel turned toward you with a beautiful smile breaking across his face. 

“I was hopin’ you’d show up,” he said. 

“Good morning, Mr. Miller,” you greeted. 

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself beside him, so you mimicked his stance and folded your arms over your chest. With the morning sun rising above the soccer field, you watched as his skin glowed in the sunlight, his tanned skin illuminated in the soft hues of the sunrise. He was undeniably gorgeous, but you forced that thought away along with all of the unruly ones that seemed to constantly evade your mind. 

“Sarah’s doin’ great out there so far,” he mentioned. “Got herself close to scorin’ a goal ten minutes ago. No doubt she’ll get one at some point.”

“I bet she will. She’s amazing out there.”

Joel beamed at your compliments of his daughter, his eyes tracking her as she ran across the field. A teammate shot the ball to her, and you both stood silently as she kept control of it toward the goal. Instead of taking the shot herself, she crossed the ball to another teammate, letting them score the first goal of the game. The parents on the sidelines sounded off with a round of cheers, and you and Joel joined in on the excitement. 

“She’s a team player,” you commented. “That’s a good quality.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled proudly. 

This. This is what you had hoped to see for Sarah. A dad who was present and proud of her accomplishments. You could give her all the applause in the world, but his voice cheering above the rest was what mattered the most. 

There was a lull in conversation for a while as you both watched the game with rapt attention. You tried hard not to notice the way Joel shifted closer to you or the fact that he had dropped his arms so that he could casually brush his against yours. Each touch of his skin against yours was like a wave of heat rushing through your body, an electric current that started with him and ended with you. There was no doubt he did it on purpose, but you did nothing to stop it. You were losing the war between self-restraint and vulnerability. 

“How’s she likin’ class?” He asked, making small talk. 

You shrugged, glancing at him with an easy smile. 

“She’s one of the best kids in her grade. This new unit we’re working on will be a challenge, but I know she’s up for it.”

“What’s the new unit?”

“Poetry.”

Joel snorted a laugh, his fingers brushing against the denim on your leg. You shifted to glare at him, amused at his response. 

“What’s so funny, Mr. Miller?”

He ran a hand through the curls atop his head, giving you a lopsided grin. 

“Nothin’,” he chuckled. “Just don’t understand why poetry is so popular in schools nowadays.”

“Poetry has always been popular,” you said pointedly. 

“Has it? Must not have paid much attention back in the day,” he smirked. 

“It’s my favorite unit to teach,” you confessed. “I think poetry gets a bad rap—clearly—but it’s important to understand the way words can convey so many layered emotions in the simplest of ways.”

Joel eyed you as you spoke, nodding along with you as you spoke. Even if he wasn’t completely sold on the idea of poetry, you enjoyed how attentive he was to the conversation. In the distance, you heard the parents cheer again, and you glanced at the field to see Sarah running with the ball toward the goal. 

“Look!” You said, pointing toward the field.

Joel snapped his head back to his daughter, watching as she sent the ball soaring into the net. You jumped up and down, clapping at her goal and yelling out her name in excitement.

“That’s my girl!” Joel cheered. “Way to go, Sarah!”

Sarah looked over at him, her cheeks rosy from the play, and shot him two thumbs up. Joel returned the same hand gesture; his cheeks stretched wide with a smile as he watched his daughter dance into an embrace from her teammate. 

“You were sayin’,” he pressed, his eyes sliding back to you. 

“Oh,” you laughed. “That’s okay. I don’t want to bore you with all the school talk.”

“You ain’t borin’ me. I wanna hear what you have to say.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, realizing he wasn’t just asking these things to make small talk. He sincerely wanted to know the things you were interested in and the work you did, which was far from what you received from Bennett. Half the time you talked about your lessons, Bennett would just aimlessly nod while typing his emails and debriefs, his attention far away from you.

“Well, I’m starting off by teaching them about Shakespeare,” you explained, watching Joel open his mouth to make a retort. You held your hand up in defense and continued. “Before you go complaining about Shakespeare, I’ll have you know he’s one of the most renowned dramatists in history. His stylist choices in his playwrights were unlike anything else, and his work has completely impacted modern-day English. It’s because of him that we have so many words and phrases in the English language. Say what you want, but he really is worth learning about.”

Joel studied you for a moment, his lips curving up at the corners. You weren’t used to rambling off about useless things, more because you never really had the chance in the past. It was exciting to talk about the things you were passionate about, and you didn’t realize you’d find that moment being with Joel Miller. 

“Maybe I need to read some of his work,” Joel said. “What’s your favorite?”

“My favorite?” You blinked at him. “Oh, um, it’s cliche, but my favorite is Romeo and Juliet. That’s what I’m starting with on the unit.”

“Sarah got a copy of it?” he asked. 

“She should, yes.”

“Might need to steal it from her so I can see what all this fuss is about,” he smiled, bumping his arm into yours. 

“You don’t need to do all that,” you muttered. “I’m sure Sarah could tell you all about it after she’s done reading it.”

“I’m sure she could,” he acknowledged. “But maybe I'd like to do the research.”

“Research?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

Joel leaned into you, his face drawn closer to yours. 

“Yeah, research,” he repeated. “I wanna know why y’like it so much.”

Your mouth opened and closed, all words seemingly melting from your brain. What the hell were you supposed to say to that? He wanted to take the time to understand your interests… but why? Once again, Joel was proving to be everything you never saw in Bennett. And it scared the fuck out of you. Because you couldn’t date Joel, nor did you want to. Giving yourself up to another person, exposing those vulnerable parts of yourself like that would just be inviting the possibility of another heartbreak. 

“I can save you the time and tell you instead,” you offered. 

“Nah,” he smiled. “I wanna find out myself.”

The game came to a close, with the school team winning 2-0. Joel embraced Sarah when she ran off the field, wrapping her into a gigantic bear hug and planting a kiss on her forehead. You gave her a small high five, congratulating her on the win. You followed them out to the parking lot, watching as Joel kept his arm wrapped around Sarah’s narrow frame. From this angle, they looked like the perfect father-daughter duo, and your heart seized with happiness knowing he had kept his word. 

Digging through your purse for your car keys, you said a quick goodbye and made a beeline for your car. You wouldn’t insert yourself in the rest of their day; you needed to find some distance between you and Joel before he started crawling further under your skin. But as you tugged open your car door, a warmth grew behind you, and you turned to see Joel standing a few steps away. Sarah was nowhere in sight, so you figured she was already waiting for him in his truck. 

“Yes?” You asked, standing idle between the open door and Joel’s tall body. 

His eyes bounced between your lips and your eyes, never settling on one too long. 

“Look, this is gonna sound forward of me, and I can probably guess your answer,” he started. “But can I take you out to dinner sometime? As a ‘thank you' for everything.”

“Mr. Miller,” you sighed. “I appreciate the invitation, but this needs to remain purely professional. I’m Sarah’s teacher, and I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes trailing to the ground. Despite every cell inside your body screaming yes, you needed to stick to your rules—whatever the hell they were.

“I figured you’d say that,” he mumbled. "Listen, let me give you my number at least. If you ever change your mind, or if you need someone to drive you home from the bar, y’can shoot me a call. Is that okay?”

“I…” You trailed off, considering his offer. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

You searched for your phone in your purse, handing it over to him with shaky hands. His fingers brushed against yours as he took it, a crackle of energy bursting through your skin at his touch. He must have noticed, too, because his eyes met yours before he typed in his number. With a few more clicks on your phone, he handed it back, brushing his hand over yours once more. 

“I sent myself a text on it,” he confessed. “Now I have yours, just in case of anything, y’know?”

“Yeah, just in case.”

Joel gave you a soft smile before turning and walking away. You watched his figure fade into the cars still filling the parking lot and caught him glancing back at you one last time. You stared down at your phone, seeing the text lit up on the screen. He had sent one simple word to himself: your name. Not Miss Smith, not ‘Sarah’s teacher’, but your name. 

You opened his contact information and typed one simple word: Joel

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel is secretly in love with Tommy’s girlfriend and comforts her while his brother is in jail.]

God, Joel didn’t know what the hell you saw in his brother or more so how the hell Tommy could get a woman like yourself.

Angst fluff protective Joel

Note: story inspired by @dancingtotuyo High Infidelity Series!

Eleven o’clock at night and here you were standing in front of Joel’s front door. Calling his cell with tears in your eyes hoping he would still be awake when thankfully the sound of his voice appeared on the other end.

“Hello”

“Joel? It’s me-“

“What’s wrong? Everything alright?”

“I um- I’m at your front door. I know it’s late but-“ before you could finish your sentence Joel quickly unlocked the door with a look of concern although he already knew why you were there.

“I’m sorry” you hung up your phone as you tried to explain what was going on.

“Tommy got arrested again and they’re not letting him go and-“

“Why didn’t cha call me? It’s late, I woulda gone to get you” he led you inside as you shook your head.

“I know Sarah’s asleep and he didn’t want me to tell you but I didn’t know what else to do” you sighed as you brushed your hands through your hair.

“The hell he do now?” Joel was growing tired of seeing how upset his brother was constantly making you. Every month there was something new that got him in trouble with the law yet he never seemed to learn a lesson.

“He got into a fight and used a knife and-“ you covered your face hiding your tears.

“The guys in the hospital but in critical condition and he’s just out of control-“ you began to hyperventilate.

“Alright, alright take a deep breath. Here take a seat” he grabbed a chair beside him quickly placing it next to you. Wiping your tears away you sat down as Joel sat in front of you leaning forward.

“Hey, look at me” unexpectedly Joel grabbed your hand, his deeps eyes giving you some kind of sense of peace.

“He’s gonna come out like he always does and everything’s gonna be fine, ya hear me? And the second he’s out, I’m gonna beat his ass” Joel tried to get you to laugh, a half a smile appearing on your lips.

“There she is” he whispered, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked into yours.

God, Joel didn’t know what the hell you saw in his brother or more so how the hell Tommy could get a woman like yourself. You seemed to be the complete opposite of him, while he was the trouble making hothead, you were shy, sweet and just trying to get him on the right path.

“I’m gonna call the sitter and you just sit tight, we’ll get goin’ in a few”

“But Tommy didn’t want you to know, he’s gonna get upset with me”

“Listen sugar,” Joel still held your hand in his.

“What Tommy says don’t go when his woman is out alone late at night tryin’ to fix things for him. Don’t worry, I’ll take the heat” he winked at you before getting up and calling Sarah’s babysitter.

The ride to the station had you on edge, reality not exactly feeling like reality in that moment. Tommy knew you were twelve weeks pregnant, yet it didn’t feel like he was taking it seriously. A wave of nausea hitting you making you quickly roll down the window causing Joel to look over at you.

“You alright?”

“Yes” you took a deep breath, you were far from alright.

Once arriving you sat down at a table while Joel stood behind you when Tommy was led into the room. The first sight of Joel and you knew Tommy was pissed, you didn’t even have a chance to defend yourself.

“Tommy-“

“God dammit, I ask you not to do one fucking thing-“

“Tommy she was worried” Joel quickly defended you.

“Besides, you expected her to travel all this way at this time alone? You should know better than that, brother” Tommy looked at you, a glimpse of remorse as he noticed just how upset you were.

“Tommy, this needs to stop” you whispered.

“Look, the guy came at me first-“

“You promised me there would be no more of this” you tried not to cry as Joel silently watched.

“Well I’ll be out of here soon and things will be better-“

“You’re not going anywhere, Miller” a cop walked in through the door with a paper in his hand.

“The man you stabbed just died, you’re looking at a manslaughter charge” you gasped placing your hands on your lips.

“Oh god” you stood up feeling queasy all over again, cold sweats rushing through your body.

“It was self defense!” Tommy yelled angrily as you felt your world spinning.

“God dammit, Tommy” you unexpectedly yelled slamming your hand on the table.

“The hell was I suppose to do?! Be a sucker?!” Tommy yelled back making you almost throw yourself at him until Joel caught you with an arm around your waist pulling you back.

“You selfish prick!” You screamed.

“Oh I’m selfish?! Am I really? Or is it you?!”

Once again angrily you threw a paper at him as Joel pulled you back again. The nerve of him to say all these things knowing the chaos he has caused.

“Go wait in the car” he whispered as Tommy continued to yell angrily.

“Go” Joel repeated before you finally walked out the door crying.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Joel snapped at him once you left.

“Oh please Joel, don’t give me this crap now”

“You got this woman constantly worried about you, tryin’ to help you!” Joel was angry and his brother could see it.

“Yeah well she don’t have to” Tommy shrugged stubbornly.

“She damn well shouldn’t, you sure as hell don’t deserve it” Joel spoke low before walking out leaving Tommy to think over his actions…or at least hoping he would.

Silently getting in the car Joel reached over placing his hand on your thigh. He didn’t have the words but he knew that look, you were fed up. Joel had seen his brother push away many women but with you it was different.

There was silence for some time, you leaned your head on the window as Joel took a deep breath.

“Im sorry my brother can be such an ass sometimes” as he spoke another wave of nausea hitting you, this time worse than before.

“Joel stop the car” you covered your lips with your hand quickly opening the door the second he stopped and ran to the grass.

“Shit” Joel whispered before rushing out beside you. Leaning forward you felt Joel grab your hair out of your face as you struggled to let anything out.

“You alright?” You slowly stood up straight and nodded, wiping your lips with a paper you had.

“Been a rough night” Joel continued, figuring that’s what made you sick before you shook your head.

“Joel….” You sighed figuring you should tell him the truth.

“I’m pregnant” you whispered without looking his way. He stood still for a moment looking at you in disbelief. Joel didn’t understand why in that moment he felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

“Does he know?” He asked low. You quietly nodded.

“God dammit Tommy” Joel whispered looking away, the fact that his brother knew you were pregnant and still let himself get into more trouble pissed him off.

“So he knew this and he asked you to travel here alone this late” Joel shook his head.

“We should get back, incase Sarah wakes up wondering where you are” you walked to the passenger seat not realizing Joel was behind you as you climbed in making sure you could get in safely until you sat down and noticed him beside you.

“I’m ok, Joel. Really” you smiled before he nodded and closed the door. Tommy wasn’t a bad man, but there were many differences in the two. Tommy had his ways of being a gentleman when you least expected it but for Joel, it was an automatic thing without thinking, even more so now knowing you were pregnant. You could already feel the difference in his actions around you the second he found out that you were pregnant. You wished Tommy had been this way with you.

“How far long are you?” Joel asked with his eyes on the road.

“I’m about to be thirteen weeks” your voice cracked making Joel look over at you to find you with tears looking down at your lap.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. You ain’t alone in this, you’re family” you appreciated Joels words but the truth hurt too much to ignore.

“Tommy..Tommy didn’t want this…..that’s why I’m the selfish one like he said in there” you wiped away a tear.

“I’m selfish because I want to keep the baby”

Joel frowned looking ahead as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. If his brother was in his face right now it would be Tommy’s face that would be dealing with his tightened fist. Tommy was so lost in his ways he had no idea how lucky he was to have a woman like yourself, how lucky he was to have you as a mother to his child. Tommy took you for granted and this only pissed off Joel. You looked over and noticed him lost in thought, his jaw clenched, you wondered what he was thinking.

“Seems like he’s the selfish one, ain’t he” he uttered low as you looked straight ahead.

“I have an appointment tomorrow-“ Joel quickly looked at you.

“You got someone who could go with you?”

“It was suppose to be Tommy, but of course-“

“I’ll go with ya”

“Joel no, you don’t have to. You have your own life and-“

“Give me a time and I’ll figure it out” you sighed knowing Joel wouldn’t give up, must’ve been a Miller thing.

“It’s at ten in the morning”

“Alright, I’ll pick you up at 9:30 and we go”

You had to admit, having company for this was definitely something you needed, you were now less anxious about the whole thing.

You hadn’t properly slept in days and you could feel your eyes growing heavy, before you knew it you had drifted off to sleep as Joel continued to drive.

“How ya feelin’?” He suddenly asked before looking over and realizing you had fallen asleep. Although he was supposed to drive you home the thought of you alone this upset didn’t sit well with him.

Once arriving to his house Joel carefully carried you out of the car, your head laying against his neck as he carefully made his way in.

“Mr.Miller” the sitter stood up rushing to help him with the door as he came in.

“You go on home, I got it from here. Thank you for coming on such short notice” Joel gave her a nod before walking towards his bedroom.

Gently he lay you down on his bed, your shoes slowly taken off before he slid your legs under the blanket. For just a moment you seemed so peaceful, a soft moan coming from you as you turned your head the opposite way.

“Tommy?” You whispered half asleep.

“Tommy, come to bed” you reached out for his hand as Joel took hold of it and very carefully lay down on the edge of the bed. Moving closer to Joel you lay your hand on his chest and took a deep breath as he delicately placed his hand over yours.

“I love you, Tommy”

Joel swallowed hard, his hand gently brushing hair out of your face as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your forehead…for just a moment Joel felt like you were his..

[imfinereallyy]

Father Figures

pt. 2 here, and full version on ao3 here

The first time James Edward Hopper meets Steve Harrington is when Steve is thirteen years old. It is back when he is still pushing everyone to call him Chief Hopper, or at the very least James to sound more professional. It is mostly a lost cause, as he has just returned to Hawkins after his daughter Sarah's death and most people can't help but call him Jim and Hop in familiarity, in sympathy.

It didn't mean they didn't take him any less seriously though. In fact, his cold, grieving demeanor gave him quite the reputation around town. Made assholes like Lenny Byers and troublemakers like the little twerp Munson turn in the other direction when they see him. So Jim doesn't try to push the professional name too much. He knows people around here respect him.

They respect him enough to follow his word, they respect him enough to turn a blind eye when he takes an extra pill or two.

Jim doesn't think too deeply about his reputation until he meets Steve Harrington for the first time.

He gets a call from Benny. It's directly to his line at the station, instead of a general 911 call. He doesn't think much of it when he answers, most likely it was a non emergency from an old friend from high school. That's the only reason people call him most days.

"Chief Hopper. Make it quick."

"Jimmy." A deep, worried breath comes from the phone.

Jim immediately straightens. "Benny, what's wrong?"

Benny usually only calls for a laugh, or to invite him out for a drink. The guy doesn't care about too much, or ask too many questions. Hearing concern in his voice was alarming, to say the least. "Listen, Hop, there is a kid here. And normally I don't care, cause business is business, but it's two in the morning, Jimmy. And despite the kid wearing the most expensive pair of sneakers I have ever seen, he only has two dollars on him for a meal. He got all skittish when the plate landed too loudly. And I don't know..." Benny takes a deep breath before he continues. "...I just don't want to be at fault if this kid's trouble and some fancy parents come looking for him."

Jim can tell Benny wants to say something else, he doesn't push though. Jim Hopper tries to never ask too many questions.

"Alright Ben, I'll be there in ten."

———

When Jim arrives at the diner, Benny notices him and nods in the direction of the corner booth. And there, sitting with his head low and scarfing down a plate of fries is Steve Harrington.

Jim has never met the kid personally, but he knows his parents. Cold, calculating, and pretty much owns half of Hawkins. Jim is starting to understand why Benny has called him.

Jim slides into the booth across from the young boy. He's prepared to take the kid by the back of his shirt and drag him out of there. He doesn't need these kids to be causing hard-working people any trouble. But when Jim makes a thump in the booth, the Harrington kid's face snaps up in fear, and Jim's plan for an angry monologue just drops.

Because there, on Steve Harrington's jaw, is a bruise the size of Indiana itself. Jim's face remains gruff, but his body language softens. "Hey, kid. What are you doing here so late?"

Steve's posture remains stiff and small. "Sorry sir, I was just hungry and it was the only place open. I wasn't—I wasn't trying to cause trouble."

It's then, for the first time, Jim thinks that his reputation isn't one of respect. Instead, his reputation might something worse. Fear.

"Didn't think you were. Just wondering what a rich kid like you, is doing on this side of town, at this time of night." Jim doesn't say it like a question, just fact. He tries not to take it too personally when Harrington turns his bruised side in on himself.

"Would have uh—gotten something from home but we—I didn't have any food left. And by the time I was able to eat, everything else was closed."

"Able to eat—kid what are you rambling about. Let me call your parents to pick you up." Jim makes his way to stand but Steve grabs his wrist to pull him back.

"No! I mean—" he clears his throat "—not necessary sir. My parents left for a work trip tonight. I uh—don't have a number for you to call them anyway. They call me instead, they never have a solid line to contact. Nothing bad happens in Hawkins anyway, so it isn't something to worry about." The last line sounds practiced, like it is something repeated to Steve religiously enough it's become his own mantra.

Jim is starting to put it together. The waiting all day to eat. The bruise on his jaw. The lack of money for food. God, the kid probably walked six miles to get here.

Jim isn't stupid, he can connect the dots. But Jim also knows when not to push things. When not to rock the boat. When sometimes, even if it pains him, helping someone would be a lost cause. He thinks of Sarah briefly.

It's even worse when that lost cause is just a kid.

Jim decides maybe the best thing he can do for Steve at that moment is to ignore the obvious problem and offer him a bit of kindness. "Well, I can't have ya here this late. Could look bad for Benny. And we don't want to get Benny in trouble do we?"

Steve shakes his head immediately. "No Sir."

"Didn't think so. Why don't I drive you to the station? Don't worry I'm not arresting you. But we got a nice cot there, and you can get some rest. Then I'll drive you back in the morning when I clock out. Cause I'm still on duty and all. Can't be driving you back Loch Nora quite yet." Jim doesn't mention how he can see bags under Steve's eyes. He doesn't mention how it would be quicker to his house than to the station either. Jim maybe, just a little bit, wants to keep an eye on him. Even if it's only for a short time.

"It's okay I can walk—" Jim levels Steve with a look "—actually that sounds great. Thank you, Sir."

Jim nods with finality and starts to stand. "Oh and kid? Enough with that sir crap. I ain't Mr. Harrington." He almost says I'm not your dad. But that felt wrong somehow, giving Harrington senior that title.

"Okay, sir—I mean Hopper. Okay, Hopper."

---

As the years go by, James Edward Hopper keeps an eye out for Steven James Harrington (Yes he looks at his file for his full name. Yes, it makes him feel some sort of way he has his name as his middle name and not his father's. Richard would make a horrible middle name anyway). At first, it's drive-bys to see if anyone's home. Giving the kid a ride if he sees him walking. Swinging by a basketball game or two, to see how he's playing.

Then it turns into busting his ragers. Hauling him in for the night not to arrest him but to sober the kid up. Pulling him over for driving while intoxicated with that dumb Hagan boy.

Jim wants to be mad, he does. He even yells at Steve sometimes. But he can't find in him to be mean to him, not really. Not when he's pretty sure the only thing Steve has consumed in days is alcohol. Not when even though he has gotten much bigger, and the bruises are less visible, Steve never ceases to flinch when Jim grabs him.

So mostly, Jim either just drives him home or brings him in, giving him a sandwich and bed for the night.

Around when Steve is sixteen though, things get worse for Jim. He becomes more frustrated, with Steve, with his job, and with this town. He takes more pills. He neglects his job. He forgets Steve.

Then the Upside Down happens for the first time. Jim tries to better himself for Joyce and the kids. He mainly though does it for El. His second chance, his new reason for trying, his daughter.

Jim knows it's okay to get a little lost in taking care of her. That it's a good thing, and she deserves his full attention.

He does feel a bit of guilt though, after round two of the Upside Down. When Steve Harrington sits in Joyce Byer's living room, looking like he went ten rounds with a semi.

The kids are all over him (including Mike which shocks the hell out of him). Dustin is trying to stop the bleeding on his face, Lucas is holding ice against his head and even El, who Steve met for all of five minutes, is sitting beside him on the couch, holding his shoulder up. There is a look in El's eyes as she stares up at Steve. Like she can see through him, like she knows him. Like she understands him.

Jim feels his heart break a little.

He approaches Steve in a crouched position. "Hey kid, I think we better take you to a hospital. You look like shit." He is sure there is a better way to say it, but Jim Hopper is a blunt man and that was never going to change.

The redhead, Max, snorts. "That's honestly the nicest way to put it."

Steve glares, Jim can't decide if it's at him or the kids. "No. I'm okay."

Dustin shouts, "Steve you are most definitely not okay. Hop's right you look like shit—"

"Language."

Dustin ignores Steve, "—and that's just externally. Who knows what's going on internally."

"C'mon kid, I can drive ya." Jim moves to help him stand.

Steve bursts with anger and pushes Jim away. "I said no. And you're not my dad."

Jim's jaw tightens and he resists the urge to scream back: and thank god for that.

El speaks before he can yell back. "You're hurt." It's soft, it's demanding and it's so very El. Jim watches Steve crumble back into the couch.

His voice is rougher than before, but much more gentle, "No hospitals."

"Okay. At least let Joyce look at ya. She used to be a nurse." Jim puts a hand on his shoulder, careful not to jostle him.

"Okay, Hopper. Okay, Hop."

———

After that, for a little while, Jim tries to look out for Steve again. It's harder this time though. He's more independent and harder to catch sight of. When he does see him, one of the gremlins is around him, and he can't check-in. And Hop has El, and he can't neglect her in favor of Steve. He tries to balance it out, but in the end, Steve isn't his kid.

Jim finds a small loophole though, which is El herself.

He worries about her every she since she ran away and he didn't even notice. And he knows Steve, like him, has a soft spot for the kids. So under the guise of babysitting, Jim gets Steve in his cabin once a week. So someone other than Joyce or Jonathan (or horribly, mike) is spending time with her. Sure, he's not there to keep an eye out for Steve himself, but it's the closest he's going to get.

Besides, biological daughter or not, El is just like Jim. She has a habit of collecting strays. If it's not going to be him looking out for Steve, he can't think of anyone better for the job than his little girl.

———

After Starcourt, somewhere in a Russian prison, Jim thinks of Steve.

Every day, Jim thinks of El. Misses her. Longs to hear her laugh even longs to hear her yell back at him. Every day, Jim thinks of his daughter and mourns what could have been. But Jim knows she's being taken care of. Knows Joyce and the boys will love her, and take care of her. Make sure she knows nothing else but kindness.

He worries though, between those moments, about how there is no one there for Steve.

———

Months later, in Hawkins Memorial, Jim Hopper finds Steve Harrington in a hospital chair next to Eddie Munson's comatose body.

Jim has a lot of questions but doesn't get any of them out because suddenly Steve Harrington is right in front of him, sucking in a harsh "Hop," and then collapsing in Jim’s arms.

Jim holds him close, says nothing, and cries silently with him.

———

During the summer that follows, James Edward Hopper notices a change within Steven James Harrington. Despite the obvious PTSD the boy suffers, and the scars that litter his body, Steve is visibly happier than Jim has ever seen him. He laughs more, he openly cries more, and he loves more.

Steve's now living with Robin in a tiny two-bedroom downtown. He comes to family dinner with the entire party every Sunday. He shares a cup of tea (no more beer for either of them) and a cigarette every Thursday evening on the Byers-Hoppers front porch.

Most noticeably, the biggest difference Jim sees in Steve is Eddie Munson.

Jim once again isn't stupid. And despite being an ex-cop isn't a bigot (he couldn't find himself back at the force, the corruption is too much for him. And he himself, was never very good at his job). So he can easily come to the conclusion that Steve has a massive crush on Eddie Munson.

Dear. God.

It's not that he has a problem with Eddie being a boy, but it's the fact that out of all people he can choose from, Steve had to go and fall for the twerp who used to trip over his laces when running away from Jim for the third time.

Jim feels, after all the years of neglect that Steve faced, he could do so much better.

Steve is happy though for once, and Jim doesn't say anything at first. But it becomes so painful to watch. The lingering touches. The longing gazes. The nicknames (sweetheart, honey, dear god did he just say big boy—).

Nothing ever comes of it though, it's August and neither of them has done anything but pine. And Jim seems to be the only one who notices.

At first, he thinks it's cause everyone is being kind, and giving them room to explore themselves. But with everyone making jokes about Robin and Steve (from the kids) or Steve and Nancy (from Eddie), it seems like no one notices the excruciating flirting between the two.

(Except for maybe Robin, but Jim isn't quite sure Steve and she aren't one organism. He doesn't count her)

Still, Jim ignores it though. He has learned his listen from Mike and El. Getting involved makes everything worse.

That is until, the second week in August right before family dinner, when he finds Steve and Eddie early, sitting on the couch, with Eddie dabbing the blood off of Steve's face.

"What happened?" Jim is over on Steve's other side in an instant.

"Nothing Hop, it's stupid." Steve tries to shrug off, and he looks towards Eddie briefly.

Jim's vision, for a brief brief moment, is filled with unclear rage. It's enough to consume him and makes him impulsive. Jim can't help but think he got it wrong. Maybe the two are together, and Steve had fallen into a bad relationship. He knew that Eddie was trouble, but he didn't think about it being that kind.

And though he is being irrational, and being for once a little stupid, no one can really blame him when he hauls Eddie up by the collar and into his line of vision.

"Munson, did you put your goddamn hands on my kid?"

Jim can hear Joyce, El, and Will (the only other people in the house) all run out into the living room at the sheer volume of Jim's voice.

Steve sits frozen, Joyce and El yell at him to "put him down, oh my god."

And Munson? He starts to ramble.

"No. No! I would never, ever hurt anyone. Haven't we learned this by now? I can barely kill a spider. I have to put them in a cup and put them outside." Eddie chuckles nervously, waving his hands around frantically.

Jim's grip tightens and pulls him closer. He's pretty sure his vibrating at this point.

Suddenly though, Eddie becomes deathly serious. As if he just realizes what Hopper has said.

"Hop, I would lay down my life before I ever hurt Steve. There is no one in this world that deserves kindness more than him. And if I ever do hurt him, whether it be emotionally or physically, I give you full permission to beat me up. Hell, I'll probably throw myself at your fist."

Jim doesn't let go but stays silent as he listens.

"You see, Steve here decided to pull a you when some jerks wouldn't leave me alone at Family Video today. They were throwing around a bunch of slurs. Nothing I haven't heard before. And even though I could handle myself—“ Eddie gives Steve a look “Steve here always has to be the hero and decided to defend my honor. And of course, it just had to turn physical. And Steve decided to take on three guys on his own. Got to say though, he held his own. It was kinda hot honestly—"

Jim hears Steve choke a little beside them, startling him out of his frozen state.

"—And he only got a cut on his forehead from one of the dickwads class rings. I'm a little worried he has another concussion though. Believe me, Hop when I say, I am just as pissed at those guys as you."

At the end of his speech, Eddie calms down and even holds eye contact with Jim. He still doesn't let go of the twerp, despite being considerably less angry. Well, at least at Eddie.

It's Steve though that finally gets him to let go. "Dad, please put Eddie down."

Steve says it like it's nothing. Steve says it likes its the easiest thing in the world. But to Jim, to Jim it's the best thing he's gotten since El.

Instantaneously, Jim drops Eddie back on the ground and scoops Steve into a bone-crushing hug. "You got to stop scaring me like this kid. Can't lose you again."

Steve's almost his height now, so he tucks Steve's head into his shoulder and lays his head on top of his hair. He hears a muffled, wet "I'm sorry" against him.

Jim chokes back tears as he says, "No, no you got nothing to apologize for. Just be more careful. Okay?"

Steve releases himself from his hold and looks at him. "Okay, Hop. Okay, Dad."

Jim ruffles his hair without jostling his head too much. He thinks he would do anything for his kids. Including pushing along this nightmare of a pining contest.

"And if you like him I like him too."

"Huh?" Steve says confused.

"Eddie here. If you like him, then he's okay by me."

Steve goes to stop Jim, but he's already one step ahead. "But if he hurts you even in the slightest, you're watching me dig the grave I'm going to bury him in. Understand?"

Steve blushes from head to toe and nods frantically, knowing if he protests it will only make the conversation longer. The room is silent until Eddie speaks.

"Don't worry Hop, I'll dig the grave for you." Eddie's voice, despite the threat, is filled with delight, wonder, and hope.

My work here is done Jim thinks as he gives the boys one last nod and leaves the room.

And if later, if Jim sees Steve and Eddie holding hands at the dinner table he doesn't comment on it. And if he sees Eddie give Steve's knuckles a light kiss, and whisper something that almost looks like "I love you", he only smiles at the two boys. Because if one more person loves his boy, it's a win for him.

Because James Edward Hopper, thinks his son Steve deserves that and so much more.

———

okay I spent waaaay too much time on this (as per usual) but I wanted to dive in a little more on Steve and Hoppers relationship (and how it impacts Steve and Eddie). I feel like a lot of fics makes them distant friends (which is canonically correct I guess) or surrogate family with no explanation. And I like the idea of them slowing building a father son relationship. Really leaning into you choose your family. I know people have mixed feelings about Steve calling him Dad (honestly sometimes I too think it’s cringey) but sometimes I love it and that boy deserves a good father figure. Even though steddie doesn’t come in until the end, I think it all really blends together nicely. Also in my head either the boys are both out to each other, is at least it’s heavily implied or is a known safe space they are in. We do not support outing people in the house. It’s probably a one-shot, but maybe I’ll add more snippets later on. For now it felt like a good place to stop.

As always I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I just zoned out for like two hours as I wrote it. It kinda made me emotional I’m not going to lie.

part 2 here and the full version on ao3 here

[tkwrites]

I can't belive you're here. - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest

Title: I can't believe you're here.

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Captain kink unlocked, oral & fingering (f receiving), squirting, swearing, surprise visit, if I missed anything, please let me know.

Summary: After a very long time apart due to bad timing, Sarah surprises Quinn on the road. Wearing his jersey, she fulfills one of his long harbored fantasies. The night just gets better when he sees what she has on underneath. 

Word Count: 6,000

Comments:

Hoo boy. This is by far the most depraved thing I’ve written. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you did enjoy it, please let me know! Your comments and questions inspire me to keep writing!

To the lovely anon who requested this: I hope it lives up to your expectations. I had so much fun writing it.

Anonymous asked: 'In some ways, he’d love to see his name across her back, but not at a game.' Ohhh, I'd love to see something about this in the future. Later on in their relationship, he's on a roadie and not seen Sarah for 4 weeks due to it and some study trip prior. He has just played either Brady or his brothers who noticed he's really down and missing her, they call Sarah and organise to fly her to his next destination to suprise him after the game. She's waiting in his hotel room, wearing nothing but his jersey to cheer him up after a loss 😉 Or a more wholesome storyline of her first WAG jacket or something aha Absolutely love all your pieces and can't wait to continue reading of their universe xx

I can't believe you're here.

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Fatigue and failure were deep in his bones as he walked into the hotel. 

Logically, Quinn knew winning streaks always come to an end. It was impossible to have a perfect 82 game season. No one had ever come close to that. 

It didn't matter how much he tried to reason, it still felt like shit to be on the receiving end of a shut out after two straight losses. 

The fact that they were still on the road didn’t help. The fourteen day trek away from home was always terrible, no matter when it fell in the season, but having it come right after Sarah had to be at a conference was torture. It meant he hadn’t seen her in over 12 days. 

It was terrible timing. The day after he got back from the six day Midwest road trip, she left for a seven day ocean conservation conference in Costa Rica. She got back two days after he had to leave again. 

It had been nineteen long days since he'd seen her for more than twenty four hours. 

They talked and sent messages and photos, but it wasn’t the same as talking face to face and kissing her and feeling her skin and smelling her perfume. 

He’d learned from the past and brought her pillowcase with him, but even that was beginning to smell less and less like her.

He only had to get through three more games and five and a half more days before he'd be back home and in her arms. 

One of the team assistants ran up to him in the lobby, “Hughes,” he said, a little breathless, “they changed your room.” 

“What?” he asked, trying to pull himself from his misery and back to the present.

“They had to change your room. Something about the heater being broken,” Sean said. 

“Okay. Petey still with me?” 

“No, they had to separate you,” Sean forced the key into his hand as they stepped on the elevator, “I already moved your bags.” 

He’d slept four quick hours in a room that felt perfectly fine before heading to the pre-game meeting and meal. He couldn’t remember if he’d left his stuff all over the bathroom counter. Hopefully, Sean didn’t have to go through too much trouble. Quinn definitely owed him dinner. 

The room was dark when he walked in. And it smelled like… it smelled like Sarah’s smoky vanilla perfume. 

Fuck. He missed her so much, his mind was playing tricks on him. 

At least he would have a room to himself, and could call her in peace without the threat of Petey listening in. They could probably even get some phone sex in, which hadn’t happened for far too long. 

Then, he would get a full night's sleep before their flight to Chicago. That, in itself, was a rare luxury he was outrageously thankful for. 

When he flipped on the light, the first thing he noticed was the king size bed. The bedspread was mussed, as if someone had been lying on it. Strange for any hotel, but especially one this nice. Rooms he came into often looked so pristine, it was as if no one had ever stepped foot in them before. 

He pushed the worry out of his mind and started toward the bathroom. 

“Hey.” 

Great, now he was hallucinating. It sounded like Sarah was right behind him. He must be more tired than he thought. 

“Quinn?” 

He stopped dead in his tracks, backpack nearly slipping to the floor. If he turned and she wasn’t here, he didn’t know what he’d do. 

A touch grazed his shoulder, and a strong whiff of her perfume made his knees shake. “Sarah?” he asked, hoping against hope. Why would she be here? 

“Yeah,” she said. 

He turned and felt a strange, strangled sort of gasp escape his throat. 

Sarah was in his hotel room. She was here. She was in Boston. How was she here? 

When his brain finally reconciled the fact that she was actually in front of him, he noticed she was wearing his flying skate jersey. 

“I - how?” 

She smiled softly, set his backpack aside and wrapped her arms around him.  

His body caught on before his brain did, hugging her against him fiercely.

Coming home from her conference in Costa Rica, which had been lovely but incredibly socially exhausting, all Sarah had wanted was to fall into bed with Quinn. When she came home to a dark and empty house, it had been a rude reminder he was on the longest road trip of the year. The apartment felt too big without him in it, especially for so long. 

“I missed you so much,” she said into his neck. 

“How did you do this?” he finally asked.

He’d known other players' wives and girlfriends occasionally showed up on road trips, but generally, their partners always knew, and it was usually because they were close by one of their hometowns. 

“Brady called me. He said you were so sad and not yourself on Wednesday, he wanted to do something. So he bought me a ticket and called Brock to get the schedule.” 

He sniffed and she pulled back.

“Oh, Quinn,” she said upon seeing the tears pooled in his eyes.

“I’m just…” The shock of seeing her brought all his emotion up to the surface.

“I know,” she said, pulling him into her again, feeling a few tears slip down her own cheeks. It felt so good to hold him.  

His mouth landed on her neck. It was a comforting thing to taste her skin as they embraced. He mumbled something against her. 

“Sorry?” she asked, trying to pull away so she could see his face. 

He didn’t want to let her go, not even for a second. Instead, he lifted his lips just enough so he could repeat, “I missed you so much.” 

“I know Quinny,” she said, running her fingers into his hair. “I missed you, too, but I’m here now, and we have all night.” 

His mouth was still on her neck, though he’d started moving with more intent, licking and kissing. The shock to his system was giving way to relief and desire. 

Finally fed up with his teasing, Sarah took his jaw in her hands and forced his head up so she could kiss him. 

He sighed into it, and found some way to pull her tighter against him. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she was wearing his jersey, but the shock of her in his hotel room, seeing her face and her blue eyes and her lips - god her lips, he couldn't get enough of them - stole all of his brain power. Now, as his hands splayed across her back, feeling the numbers patched and stitched there, the reality of it hit him. 

Forcing himself to break away so he could look at her, his knees threatened to buckle when he noticed she wasn’t wearing anything else - not that he could see anyway. The fabric hit her upper thigh, leaving much of her legs bare.

“I -” he tried to say something, but lost the words. 

The idea of wearing his jersey came from Emma. Sarah thought it was cheesy, but Emma assured her he’d love it. She’d surprised Brady at the end of a roadtrip like that, and “I swear his brain, like, short-circuited or something. He just stood there, staring at me for like 30 seconds before he went wild.” 

It didn’t surprise her Quinn didn’t have the same immediate reaction. He was so much quieter than Brady, and from what she could tell, they had a much more subdued relationship than the Tkachuks. 

The way he was looking at her now, though - like she was the thing he'd been anxiously waiting for on Christmas morning - made it all worthwhile.  

“I borrowed it, I hope that’s okay.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. 

When they were apart, the mechanics of an orgasm could be there, but it just wasn't as good. It could never be. She missed feeling him: his skin, his breath, the rigid length of him inside her.

It wasn’t that she’d been hoping he’d ravish her right away (okay, maybe she had been, but she knew Quinn, and knew he would never react that way), but all this looking without any touching was getting out of hand. Impatience was pulling tight through her stomach. The prospect of finally feeling fulfilled was driving her crazy.

She needed to give him a little nudge. 

Leaning in, she let her lips graze his ear, down to his jaw and then back. He made a soft, breathy noise, and she knew she almost had him.

Just one more push. 

“How do you want me?” she asked, following it up with a slow, open mouthed kiss to the soft spot under his ear. 

Blood rushed from his head so fast he felt dizzy. 

“I want you to ride me in this,” he managed to say, fingering the stripes on the sleeve. 

It was a fantasy he'd harbored since middle school, but had yet to experience. He'd asked his college girlfriend once, and she had scoffed, telling him it would get too hot, which he thought was a strange argument considering a jersey was designed to do the exact opposite. 

Sarah didn’t acknowledge his request other than popping open the buttons of his shirt, one after the other. That set him into motion, tugging at his clothing. He couldn’t get it off fast enough. 

Through a jumble of arms and hands, tangling in their effort to get him naked, they found themselves on the bed. Quinn flat on his back, breath heavy with anticipation, and Sarah astride him, trying to game plan her next move. She had on lingerie he’d never seen before and didn’t want it to go to waste, but he wanted her in the jersey, and she couldn’t take anything off without spoiling the surprise. 

He grew impatient as she debated, shifting his hips up, trying to entice her onto him already. “Sarah,” he whined. 

Finally, she decided to just move it to the side, and sink onto him. The stretch after so long was a pleasant burn. 

His eyes rolled back, and his hips jumped, wanting to fill her more. 

“How are you so wet?” he asked. They hadn’t kissed for that long. Usually, it took a little more to get her this soaked. 

A wicked smile spread over her face, “I may have gotten myself off while I was waiting, thinking about finally seeing you again.”

“Fuck.” 

She was a vision. Riding him after so long? Wearing his jersey? Confessing to touching herself in this bed thinking of and waiting for him? He was the luckiest man on the planet. 

She pitched forward to get the right angle, and moaned, loud and earnest. Good thing they moved him two floors up from the team. 

He tried to brace himself, but the fantasy of it, of her being here and wearing his jersey - the golden C winking at him, reminding him of all the work he'd done to get here - knowing his name was on her back made him groan out loud. His restraint stretched until it was paper thin. 

His hands explored under the jersey only to feel something smooth tied at her hip and lace at her ribcage. 

He coughed, “are you wearing lingerie?” 

“Just for you,” she said, meeting his heated gaze with a coy smile. 

He didn’t think this could get any better. Now, his mind was wild with possibilities. 

“Come for me and I'll show you.”

Holy shit. 

The little control he had snapped and he flooded her with a loud groan of her name.

Sarah's hands traced his arms, entwining their fingers before guiding them to rest on either side of his head as she leaned forward to kiss him. 

His chest pressed into hers, catching the scratchy logo on his jersey as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Shaking her head, she pushed herself off of him to go to the bathroom. She needed to clean up and readjust before the next part of her plan could move forward.

He lay there and tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. It was almost too fast for him to remember the way he wanted. The bathroom door opened, and he looked over.

“Alright, captain,” she said, leaning on the door frame. She felt incredibly silly, but relished the way his eyes widened at the nickname, “are you ready to see what I have for you?” 

Oh God. 

He nodded, though he wasn’t sure how he could possibly be prepared for what was coming. 

“Do you want to, or should I?” she asked, fiddling with the hem of his jersey, exposing the little heart tattooed on her thigh. 

“You can.” His voice squeaked a little as he said it, and he blushed. 

Being sexy wasn’t really in her forte, but Sarah tried her best. Lifting the jersey over her head, she thought briefly about tossing it in his face. Deciding that was a step too far, she let it fall to the floor. 

Quinn gaped. 

Most of the time, Sarah wore cotton briefs - occasionally she switched them for lace or a thong, but this was something totally different than what he was used to seeing her in.

For one, the matching set was so sheer, he could see her nipples through the swirling pattern of the black lace. Then, there was the fact that it was obviously made to be removed. The bra tied in front and her underwear tied at the hips, each with a silky black ribbon, like she was a gift for him to unwrap. 

His mind ran away with the thought of tugging the bow on her bra undone with his teeth. 

When she did a little twirl so he could see the back, the breath knocked out of his lungs. She looked so damn good, she might just kill him. His heart might just explode. 

“What do you think?” she asked, walking closer. She could already see how much he liked it in his wide eyes and panting mouth, but she wanted to hear him say it. 

“I -” He didn't know it was possible to get hard so soon after coming. 

“Do you like it, Captain?” 

His breathing hitched. He never thought he'd have a captain kink, but hearing the title come out of her mouth while she was wearing that? He might just develop one. 

Adjusting the bows at her hips so they sat more naturally, Sarah looked at him and repeated, “do you like it, Quinn?” 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Yes. I love it.” 

She smiled and climbed onto the bed then straddled him. His hands went to her waist of their own volition.

Her hips ground down. 

“You can’t do that,” he said, teeth gritted as he forced the words over a moan. The soft texture of the lace against his cock was incredible. 

“What?” 

“You can’t ride me again. I won’t last and you haven’t come yet.” 

She leaned down so her mouth was inches from his, her breath making him hyper aware of his own mouth and how much he wanted it on her. 

“And what are you going to do about that, Captain Hughes?” 

He topped her so fast that Sarah grunted and let out a little giggle when her back slammed into the mattress. 

“Sorry,” he breathed, only half meaning it as he planted a wet kiss at the base of her throat. He moved down her chest, following the outline of her bra with his mouth. He almost made good on his fantasy of biting it open, but held off. He wanted to watch her fall apart with it on. 

“What were you thinking about when you were getting yourself off?” he asked, kissing over her tattoo. 

“You,” she panted. 

“And what were you imagining me doing?” 

She whined. 

“What was I doing, Sarah?” he asked, lifting his mouth from where he’d just kissed down to the band of her panties. 

“You were eating me out,” she confessed, a blush rising high on her cheeks. 

Sometimes, he wished she would have told him how much she fantasized about and enjoyed oral sex before the first time he’d done it. There were four solid months he could have been pleasing her he would never get back. 

He smirked a little, “is that what you want now?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” he asked, tracing his fingers up and down her thighs. 

“Yes, Quinn.” 

He tutted, “Yes, what?” he asked as his lips went to her inner thigh. 

The bolt of electricity that fractured up her spine tipped her voice into a high, breathy whimper.

When she didn’t answer, he repeated the question again, ghosting his fingers against the lace of her panties. 

Her hips jumped. “Yes, Captain.” 

Oh, it was definitely a kink now. He couldn’t get over the sound of it coming out of her mouth. 

He made a satisfied noise and hooked two fingers under the lace gusset, pulling it away from her experimentally. The ties pulled taught, but didn't seem to want to slide over her hips. He tugged again, a little harder. 

Flinging a hand down, Sarah grasped the band, “you're going to rip them.”

“I'll buy you more,” he said, almost off handedly, still pulling. 

“Quinn, that's not the point. Please don't.”

The pulling stopped, and he pulled back to look into her face. “Okay. I'm sorry.”

Her face melted into a smile, “thank you.” She reached down to ease the ties over her hips. 

“No,” he breathed. 

Her eyes snapped to his, questioning.

Before she could ask what he wanted instead, he was knocking her hand away and licking one of the ribbons at her left hip into his mouth.

He pulled it away from her with his teeth, eyes growing darker when the bow unraveled and the pieces fell apart. 

Taking his time to kiss and lick his way to the other tie, he repeated the action, and groaned when it also untied so easily. 

He pulled on the whole thing and flung the garment away. It sailed somewhere across the room, ties flailing. 

Sarah bought this set because it was cute and sort of reminiscent of her black bikini he liked so much. She didn't realize what a fetish he would have for the bows. 

Settling back between her legs, she whined as he parted her lips and blew on her hot core. Shivers ran up her spine and down to all her fingers and toes.

“What were you thinking about?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you were touching yourself, what were you thinking about me doing?” 

“You were eating me out,” she repeated, confused. 

His laugh chuffed a burst of hot air against her that had her squirming.

“I mean how. What exactly was I doing? 

“You want me to describe it to you?”

“I want to do it for you,” he confessed, voice gravelly. 

She made a little squeaking noise that told him how much that idea excited her.

“Tell me how you want me to touch you,” he said before he leaned in to press his tongue against her, just to feel her twitch. 

Something inside her broke. Even though she felt depraved at the very thought of telling him this, it was too late to go back. The possibility of feeling it had taken over her body and wouldn’t let it go. 

“You had your fingers on my g-spot,” she breathed. 

“How many?” 

She squirmed again.

“How many, Sarah?” he repeated, circling her entrance, enthralled at the way she flexed.  

“Two.” Her mind made her continue and she squeaked, “then three.” 

His eyes widened and shot to hers. “Will they fit?” 

She nodded. “If you get me off first, they should.” 

His eyes were blown dark and full of mischief when he glanced down then back up to meet hers again. “And how was I using my mouth?” 

She moaned out loud just thinking about it. “You were doing that suck and flick thing with your tongue.” 

He had no idea what she meant.

He'd done it before: the night they'd been eliminated from the finals last season, but she couldn't very well bring that up. I want you to eat me out the way you did when you'd had one of the worst nights of your career? There was no way. Maybe if she demonstrated...

“I can show you,” she said, grasping one of his shoulders, “I need a part of you.” 

He toyed for a moment with the idea of presenting her his dick, but if he did that, he wouldn’t want to stop feeling her mouth, which defeated the whole purpose of this. Instead, he crawled over her and tipped his head to expose the column of his throat. 

His eyes rolled back as her open mouth connected with his hypersensitive skin. She ran her tongue over his pulse, following it with her bottom lip, before ending with suction, and a flick with the tip of her tongue.

Moaning, he ground against her hot center when she did it again and again.

He wrenched himself away before he could follow through with his desires to sheath himself and take her any way she would let him. 

Settling back onto his stomach, he shook his head to get back into the right frame of mind before leveling his gaze with her perfect, pretty pearl again. 

He tried to follow the movement of her mouth, and her hips jumped at the feeling. 

“Quinn,” she whined as he eased two fingers into her, curling them against that sensitive spot. “Oh my god.”

He continued on. She could feel the movement of his chin, up and down and in and out with each pass of his tongue. 

“Harder,” she begged. 

He dug his fingers into her soft spot even more. 

Throwing her head back, she moaned loudly. “Oh my god, Quinn. Just like that. Don't stop. Please don't stop.” 

Like he would ever stop when she was at his mercy like this. Grinding into the mattress, he continued on, moaning at the way her body undulated as she moved with him. 

She let out a gasping noise as if someone had forced all the air out of her in one swift hit. Her core began to pulse around his fingers, trying to suck them deeper inside her. 

Tipping her chin back, Sarah sighed as wave after soft wave of pleasure crashed over her.

When she stopped contracting so tightly, he waited until one of her aftershocks passed to work another finger into her. 

Her voice echoed around the hotel room as she cried out. 

He said a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had the wherewithal to separate them from the team. There was no way he wanted anyone, let alone someone who knew them, to overhear this.

“So good, Quinn,” she croaked out. “Feels so full.”

He continued kissing her bundle of nerves the way she wanted, pausing every few passes to suck a little more intensely. 

A surge of pleasure coiled low in her belly, winding tighter and tighter until every breath ended in a moan. She felt so full and stretched open. So… Alive. All other thoughts fell out of her brain except Quinn and his silver tongue and wicked fingers. 

Feeling as if she might just shatter to pieces if she didn't get some relief, Sarah moaned and panted and begged, “please, Quinn. Please.”

She had no idea what she was asking for, but the waves of pleasure kept coming and coming until it was winding up her spine and pulling so tight, she thought it might just wrench every vertebrae apart and fill each gap with the soft promise of her impending release. 

He could feel her high building and kept urging her up the slope. Anxious for her summit, he sealed his mouth to her, milking her clit like her orgasm might just satiate his hunger.

“Quinn,” she gasped, spine arching as her hands abandoned her nipples and rummaged for some way to ground herself. One ended up in his hair, and the other fisted into the bedspread. “Oh my god. I think I'm gonna…” 

Her voice dissolved into a noise he'd never heard her make as her muscles locked around his fingers. He forced them to continue, working through her orgasm. 

Quite suddenly, as pleasure whirled through her veins, a feeling, intense and ferocious, swelled within her.  

As a tsunami of white-hot ecstasy crashed over her, he unlocked a space deep within her she didn't even know existed.

“Oh, fuck! Quinn!”

Something molten erupted in her belly like a long dormant volcano. 

Vaguely, she heard him groan as if every fantasy he'd ever had was being fulfilled. 

Though he knew women could, he’d never seen it in person, never even imagined what feeling her release gush over his hand would be like.

Sometime last season, Beauvillier had gone on and on about making his girl squirt, and Quinn remembered wishing he would keep it to himself. He didn't want to think about that every time he saw them together. 

Now, having experienced it first hand, he understood why Tito wanted to tell everyone he knew. 

Pleasure continued to ripple through her. No high had ever gone on this long. It eased away the tension that had knotted up in her body, until all at once, sensitivity and overstimulation set in.

“Too much, too much,” she croaked, trying to squirm away from his touch. 

He’d been so mesmerized watching her face, he hadn't realized his fingers were still moving. They uncoiled and stilled, and she melted into the mattress as a sigh melted from her lips. 

Her chest rose and fell steeply, the tie of her bra pulling taught with every heavy inhale, making the cups ride up the swell of her breasts. God, she was so beautiful.

It took quite a while for her to come down. He gently eased his fingers out only after she stopped pulsing. 

A whine escaped her throat at the sudden emptiness. 

Slowly coming back to herself, Sarah registered something wet underneath her. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Did I -” her eyes darted to his as her face flushed with the reality of what had just happened, “did you make me squirt?” 

“Yeah," he said, crawling over her again, "and it was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life.”

The embarrassment she felt at making such a mess ebbed away with his confession. 

“No one's ever done that to me before. I haven't even been able to.” 

A look of immense pride took over his face. “Did you like it? I mean, it seemed like you liked it.” 

She nodded, “I've never felt anything like it.” 

He brought his lips to hers, and the taste of herself on his tongue made her passion throb to life again. 

“Well, Captain,” she said a little while later, smiling at the way his jaw slackened and eyelids grew heavy at the title. “I think I've got one more round in me. What do you want?” 

He twitched against her. 

“I just want you,” he brought his mouth to her neck. “Want to feel you come on my cock,” he murmured into her skin.

“I think we can arrange for that,” she said, fingers winding into his hair. 

Bracing up on his elbows, his gaze fell to her bra. 

Instead of using his mouth, he twirled one of the ribbons around his finger and pulled gently to ease the bow undone. It fell apart, revealing a knot in the middle. 

“It kept coming undone,” Sarah confessed, hands coming up to help him with the knot, which had pulled incredibly tight amidst her heavy breathing and writhing around.

“I think it's stuck. I can't get it out while it's on me, anyway,” she said, raising her arms above her head. “Here.”

At least he'd been able to remove her bottoms the way he wanted. He eased the lace over the swell of her breasts and helped her lift it off. 

He made love to her the way he did whenever he got home from a long time away - earnestly and full of wonder, compliments falling from his lips like raindrops, as if they didn’t cost a thing.  

“Fuck, Sarah, you feel so good.” 

“I can't believe you're mine.” 

“You're so pretty. I can't stop looking at you.”

“God, I'm so lucky.”  

They didn’t cost him anything, but they made Sarah feel like she was worth a million dollars.

“I love that sound,” he murmured when she gasped in pleasure and followed it with a low moan.  

As he drove into her again and again, he shuttered and moaned, feeling like she was going to shatter him into a million little pieces

He'd been hot all night. A sheen of sweat had spread over his skin as soon as she'd climbed on top of him in his jersey. The prospect of a fantasy being fulfilled sending his body into a frenzy. Working her up to that intense high hadn't been a walk in the park either. He'd been on edge and so focused. Now, he felt like his body was on fire.

She felt and sounded and looked so good. He couldn't think of anything but her.

When she tipped her face to the side with a loud moan, he attacked her jaw and neck with his lips, desperate to taste her again. 

She was here. She was in Boston. She was here, in his hotel, in Boston. He just made her squirt, and he didn't have to be down to the bus until 10 the next morning. He must have been doing something right.  

When he felt her fall apart around his cock, he breathed through it and hung on for dear life, twitching with the bliss of it.

Coming down from her high, Sarah was mesmerized by him. The defined set of his jaw, the sweaty sheen to his skin, how his curls fell over his forehead.

“You're so handsome, Quinn.”

She knew he was holding on, hoping to urge another high from her, but she didn't have one to give him. It was time to send him over the edge. 

Propping up on her elbows, she traced her mouth along his jaw up to his ear. He let out a panicked little whimper. 

“Want to feel you,” she whispered. "Want you to fill me up."

His hips stuttered.

“Come for me, Captain.” 

White spots blipped in his vision and he had no choice but to obey. 

Her name fell from his mouth like a prayer as she pulled him over the edge. 

When they walked back in the room after showering, Sarah realized just how much of a mess she'd made of the bed. There was no way they could sleep in it as it was. 

“Oh no.” 

“What?” Quinn asked, lowering the towel he was running over his hair. 

“We need new sheets and housekeeping is going to know exactly what we've been doing.”

“No they won't.”

She pointed to the bed, “you want to tell me they're not going to know we weren't just having sex?”

He laughed, “fine. So they might know. What does it matter? It's not like we know any of them.”

“It's so embarrassing.”

“What is? That your boyfriend made you come so hard you squirted?”

“No,” she was blushing though, “I mean…no. That was amazing.”

“So what's the worry?”

“I just…I don't want anyone else to see.”

He laughed, “that's fair. I can just ask them to bring some extra bedding. No one has to come into the room.”

She nodded, “okay.”

He called the desk, and despite his insistence he would prefer to make the bed himself, the hotel sent someone up anyway. 

Sarah folded the comforter before hiding in the bathroom. 

Quinn noticed the housekeeper's eyes lingering in one corner of the room. When he glanced over, he saw Sarah’s panties from where he'd thrown them, ties scrawled over the carpet like calligraphy strokes. So much for being discreet.

After giving the woman a tip, he tucked them in Sarah's suitcase before letting her know the coast was clear. 

As they settled into bed, Quinn relished holding her close.

Before sleep could overtake her completely, Sarah needed to set something straight. 

“I hope you know that Captain thing is only for special occasions. There is no way I'm calling you Captain all the time.”

“That’s fine,” he said, laughing. “Makes it more special when you do.”

“To be fair, I didn’t expect you to like it so much,” she said. 

She’d called him Captain as a kind of joke, and half expected him to tell her not to do it again. Quinn didn’t even like pet names. She vividly remembered the way he grimaced the first (and last) time she called him baby.

He ran his fingers through her soft hair. “I don’t know that I would have either. I’ve never had that happen before. You said it, and it went straight to my dick. I think your lingerie had something to do with that.” 

She propped herself up on an elbow. “You liked the lingerie?” she teased, full well knowing the answer. 

He scoffed, “I'm going to dream about it for the rest of this damn road trip.” 

Giggling, she leaned down to kiss him. “Maybe I'll have it on when you get home,” she said against his mouth. 

He groaned, “don't joke about that.” 

“Why not? Wouldn't it give you something to look forward to?” 

“I always look forward to coming home to you.” 

She looked down at him for a long time, memorizing the love in his eyes. “I love you, Captain Hughes,” she said before lowering her mouth to his to tell him that way too. 

“Tease,” he chided when she pulled away. 

She smiled and settled back, laying her head on his chest. 

“I love you, too,” he whispered into her hair before they fell asleep. “I can't believe you're here.”

The next morning, Sarah put his jersey back on and put his morning hard on to good use - slower this time so he could remember it properly.

After room service breakfast and a very steamy shower, he walked her down to the lobby to catch her car to the airport. 

“I love you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for coming.” 

“You're welcome. You should really be thanking Brady, though.”

He watched her pull away before heading back to his room to pack his bag. 

On the elevator ride, Quinn did just as Sarah suggested. 

Love you man. I owe you big time. 

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