#she still has her relationship with Sarah and Sarah tells her things and to be a better protector then rufus was to her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deantfwinchester · 23 days

Text

Neighborhood Walgreens

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader like always

This one takes place before the other two timeline-wise, I guess - just a few months into knowing each other. No established relationship, and some ridiculous flirting.

Summary: A busy, sick Joel gets a little care from the people in his life - including the neighbor and friend he's been crushing on for the past few months.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff-fluffity-fluff. Bout to get a standing root canal appointment, tbh.

A/N: The bulleted fics are piling up in the notes app, but boy are the well-crafted girlies a bit of a trek. More to come, if the functioning part of my brain has anything to say about it.

Word Count: 5.9k. absolute unit.

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Joel wakes up feeling like shit. He’d felt a bit of a scratch in his throat the night before, but tried to write it off as allergies or something - until he woke himself up coughing before his alarm could even go off. He knows he has a cold the second he tries to breathe through his nose - no dice. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it’s pounding before he can open his eyes. He shivers when he moves the blankets aside to get up, and each muscle in his body begs him to crawl back into bed.

Ever the trooper, he rises anyway, heading to the bathroom and checking the medicine cabinet to find what he’d feared - no cold medicine. Awesome. Resigning himself to trucking through the day, he blows his nose, pops a couple tylenol, and gets ready. His respiratory system isn’t too fond of the assault, however, and he’s coughing up a lung before he can finish. Today should be fun. He’ll need to stop by the drugstore on his way home.

Once he’s dressed for the day (trying his best to look alive), Joel trudges down the stairs to see Sarah at the kitchen table, half-eaten bowl of cereal in one hand and a pencil in the other as she finishes the last of her homework. She hears him shuffle in and looks up just as he sniffles, locking eyes right before he can still his features into a facade of rested wellness. The look on her face tells him he’s not getting away without worrying her, and he hates that. She doesn’t say a word as he makes his way to the coffee pot, she just watches him, only speaking up when he shivers at the mug’s warmth in his hands. The weather’s typical for an early autumn morning, but nowhere near chilly. Though the temperature should drop today with rain in the forecast, Sarah knows her dad and he’s never cold.

“You know, I could just head next door. I guarantee she’d be happy to drive me,” she says smiling into her textbook, trying to be nonchalant with her concern. She was referring to you, their neighbor of a few months now, who’d given Sarah rides, helped her with homework, or checked in on her when Joel needed. You’d been around since the day you moved in, and neither of them could complain — certainly not Joel. Maybe she was hoping to fluster him a bit as well, suspecting his feelings for you were a bit more than the friendship he insists they are.

He chokes on his coffee and coughs a little, shaking his head as she closes her book and begins leafing through her notes. Joel’s been worried enough lately that he’s taking advantage of your kindness too much — afraid he’s inconveniencing you and you’re too nice to say no, despite your insistence to help on more than one occasion. Besides, he already feels crappy, the last thing he wants today is for you to see him like this, hardly able to keep himself together. Or worse, to get you sick as well. Absolutely not. He opens his mouth to respond, but she speaks first. “It’s not like she hasn’t before. Maybe just one day? You need…,” she trails off, losing the battle with her expression as her eyebrows knit together and she notes the pallor and exhaustion on his own.

He takes a swig of his coffee hoping it will soothe the growing soreness in his throat before responding, “That’s alright kiddo, I-,” but the words catch in his throat before he can finish, and he cuts himself off coughing harshly into his elbow. Sarah grabs a glass and fills it with water while he coughs, longer than he has all morning, and hands it to him when he catches his breath. The look on her face is challenging now — she knows she won’t win this game, but she’ll still put up a fight. Predictably, Joel continues his previous thought as though unfazed by the fit, though his voice tells another story. “It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, babygirl,” he says hoarsely, waving her off with a sniffle. “You got a science test today, worry about that. You feelin’ ready?,” he asks, subverting talk of both his illness and mentions of you.

Sarah relents with a sigh, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, gesturing to the textbook and notes on the table. He’s more confident than she is, and he smiles brightly at her.

“You’ve got it down, not a doubt in my mind. Now finish getting your stuff together before we’re late. I’ll get the car runnin’,” he says, moving his coffee to a travel thermos before grabbing her lunch from the refrigerator and getting it packed up. She looks back at him hesitantly before leaving the room to gather the last of her school stuff.

Joel’s got his coffee in hand and Sarah’s lunch in the seat next to him as he waits in the truck. It’s nice enough outside, but he’s still chilly, and wonders if he should run back in and grab a jacket. He forgoes this idea when he realizes Sarah’d put up more of a fight if he did, knowing he’s warm-blooded as all hell, and vocally hot until at least November. Not to mention Tommy’d see right through him the second he shows up to work. No, it’s just early in the morning. The day will warm as the sun climbs to its apex for sure. He’ll be alright.

While he’s thinking too hard through the fog in his head, Sarah climbs into the car with her backpack on, pulling it off to throw into the seat next to her. But not before she’s placed two additions in the seat between them - a box of tissues and a water bottle. She doesn’t say anything to him, just gives him a knowing look before loading her lunch into her backpack. Joel stills a moment — he’s not surprised by her care, but softens at the gesture. As Sarah shuts the passenger door, Joel wonders how the hell she turned out so sweet, and kisses the top of her head in silent thanks before pushing the truck into drive.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Joel gets to work, his headache has bloomed into pain behind his eyes, leaving him squinting hard in the bright morning sun. He’s also used quite a few tissues since he dropped Sarah off at school. He’s definitely grateful she thought to grab them, but unfortunately, his congestion won’t budge. He’s not naive enough to think he can hide from Tommy, but hopeful that his brother might at least leave him be today. He can muscle through if he’s just working and not being nagged by his brother for hours. He’s sure of it.

—--------------------

Tommy’s not an idiot, but he lets him slide for the first few hours. It’s clear he knows something’s wrong. Joel’s a quiet enough guy, but never this silent, only speaking up when the work demands. He noticed when Joel got out of the truck this morning looking particularly drained - both in face and demeanor - and had checked in as casually as possible, hoping to avoid his brother’s evident and exceptional irritability. Joel, of course, had promptly brushed him off and clammed up for the remainder of the morning. Speaking only when spoken to hadn’t stopped Joel from making noise, though, much to his brother’s dismay. Tommy had seen him all morning, breaking into intermittent fits of coughing he’d attempt to mask beneath the racket of power tools. Tommy’s just about as good at hiding his concern, and Joel catches him looking in his direction in the thick of it on more than one occasion. After which Joel would rip his eyes from his brother’s fretful gaze, hoping to deter him from moving forward to give him a once-over.

Despite his many efforts otherwise, Tommy knows Joel’s sick - too sick to be working like he is today. It’s when the guys break for lunch around noon and Joel just quietly nurses a bottle of water (which he only has because Sarah made sure of it, no less), that Tommy decides he’s got all the evidence he needs. Tommy sidles up next to his brother who’s leaning against his truck bed, and by the looks of it, allowing it to hold most of his weight, too weary to do so himself. Tommy sighs next to him, and Joel braces for what’s coming.

“You know, we’ve pretty much got it covered over here today, not a lot left to do before we pour anyhow. Probably a good thing, bottom looks like it’s gonna fall out before long,” he says, gesturing to the darkening sky above them. “We can manage for the day if you wanna head on home, maybe take a nap? Hate to tell ya, but you look like hell.” Tommy nudges his brother’s shoulder with his own playfully, attempting to lighten the mood. Joel rolls his eyes at Tommy, sniffing and clearing his throat to talk.

“Nah. ‘S just a cold. I’ll be alright,” Joel says, hoping to end the discussion with his curt response, but failing when his throat catches on the last word. Tommy’s face is etched in worry at the sound of the cough tearing up his brother’s throat.

While Joel attempts to catch his breath, Tommy takes in the reddened flush on Joel’s otherwise pale face, and the distant glassiness in his eyes. Taking advantage of his distracted state, Tommy places the back of his hand against Joel’s forehead. He’s barely there long enough to get a read on his temp before Joel swats his hand away, but it’s enough. No wonder he’s caught Joel shivering more than once today.

“Dammit Joel, you know better. We’ve sent guys home for less and you know it,” says Tommy, face twisting in frustration and concern.

“Tommy it’s fine I-“ Joel attempts to reply, but Tommy cuts him off.

“Did you even bother to check it before ya left? You know this is a fuckin’ hazard on the job. Damn accident waitin’ to happen,” his tone is grave, but his expression is worried and achingly sincere. Joel pushes the thought from his mind and shapes up - not his little brother’s job, he can take care of himself.

“No. I’m fine to keep workin. That’s it. We got stuff to do,” Joel says with finality, turning on his heel and promptly returning to his tasks. Tommy’s not happy about it, but he could spend all day arguing with his bullheaded brother, tiring him out more without making any headway. No, he’ll just keep a closer eye on him while they work. That’ll have to do.

—--------------------

It’s when the rain starts coming down a little after two that Tommy hits his limit. Once he notices a couple drops beginning to fall, he looks to Joel, just in time to see his brother shivering when the drops make contact with his overheated skin. That’s enough of that. Tommy stalks over to his brother, whose reaction time is significantly slowed, and Joel turns to look at him a bit dazed.

“Alright, that’s it. Rain’s coming down, you’re shaking like a fuckin’ leaf. Go home.” It’s Tommy’s turn to remain steadfast in his convictions. Joel looks over at him with tired eyes and Tommy can’t help but soften.

Only when a few chilled drops hit Joel’s face and neck making him colder than he’s felt all day that he concedes. “Yeah, alright.” It’s clear he doesn’t have the energy to put up a fight, especially when Tommy pats his shoulder comfortingly and he slumps a bit. Joel’s shivering again as Tommy ushers him back toward his truck.

“We’re heading out soon as we get cleaned up anyway. How ‘bout I pick up Sarah? Just go home and get some sleep?” Tommy asks, hopeful now that his brother’s folding.

“Okay,” he breathes out, running a hand down his face before trying in vain to rub out the pain behind his eyes. Joel stops just outside the driver’s side door and looks to Tommy to thank him.

“‘Course. Now head home. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Tommy responds, to which Joel nods, then climbs into the truck. Tommy takes another look back to find his brother sitting in the driver’s seat gathering himself, mildly satisfied with this result

_____________________________________________________________

For once you actually make your way to the parking lot right after school on a Friday. You're notorious for staying too late, grading, planning, or straight up yapping, but today you’d made a rookie mistake. You’d showed up to work on Day 2 of your period without checking your advil stash. Fuck.

After a day of cramping, crabbiness, and guilty apologies after being kind of a bitch to your students a couple of times, you head to your car as soon as the bell rings. You’ll stop in the Walgreens around the corner from your neighborhood for a quick supply run, then head home to be comfortably horizontal for the remainder of this fine Friday afternoon.

—--------------------

Truth be told, Joel is relieved to be done for the day by the time Tommy makes him leave. The last of his resolve had crumbled and fallen with the first raindrops and the chill they set in his bones. He turns the heat on in his truck and settles in, letting the air warm him up and willing the pounding in his head to subside just long enough to focus on the road. A few minutes and a bout of coughing later, he finally works up the strength to drive home, only to realize he’s still horrifically unmedicated. Shit. Guess he’s stopping at the drugstore on his way home if he wants even a little relief.

—--------------------

Joel’s standing in the cold and flu aisle of his neighborhood Walgreens, sniffling miserably and squinting heavy-lidded at different cold medicine boxes in each of his hands. He remembers one particular medicine helping at least a bit more than others last time he was sick, but for the life of him he can’t remember which one it was. Dammit, he really just wants to get out of here. He’d much rather keep this cold to himself than be hacking in public, but he needs something if he’s ever gonna stop coughing long enough to get the sleep he desperately needs.

The tiny white letters on the back of these orange and green boxes are starting to run together, and the pain behind his eyes digs its heels into his frontal lobe. He squeezes his eyes shut and curses a little louder than he realizes, triggering a coughing fit in the middle of the store. Great. Now everyone in the store knows he’s carrying a respiratory plague. He’s sniffling and feeling like a walking germ when he hears his name called.

“Joel?” you call from the end of the aisle, having heard his voice from a few lanes over. Joel turns his head to see - oh no. Jesus. Boy did he wish you weren’t the one seeing him look so gross right now. As you come closer to find him squinting under the clinical brightness of the drugstore, you get a good look at him. He looks… rough. His hair’s a bit damp, and more disheveled than usual - not the fresh, styled damp you see when he leaves the house after a shower, but a clammier mix of sweat and rain. His posture is far from the typical confidence and swagger he typically wields with each step, and is more evidently haggard. You notice his eyes first though, with dark circles and brows creased in confused exhaustion. They’re half-closed too, like he’s fighting to keep them open.

He tries to open them wider and stand up straighter as you approach, clearing his throat to speak, but he’s coughing again before he can get a word out. He’s shaking with the force of it and you notice his shirt is damp in places as well - must have gotten caught in the rain. Just minutes ago, he’d have been uncomfortable under your scrutiny, but he’s too wrapped up in catching his breath to be embarrassed at this point. You draw nearer with pure concern in your eyes as his coughing subsides, and his resolve melts a bit more.

“Whoa, hey, you okay over there? That sounded painful,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. He notices the fretful tone in your voice — it’s gentler than his brother’s but carries the same intention.

“Yeah, can’t say it feels great,” Joel says hoarsely before attempting to clear his throat once again, hoping his lungs will cooperate this time. “Can’t seem to remember which of these damn pills will give me a hand though.”

“Didn’t I just see you on Wednesday? When did you start feeling bad?” you ask, leaning against his side to take a closer look at one of the boxes from his hands. Maybe with some details you can help figure something out to get him feeling better, or at least let him rest.

“Last night, I guess. Came on pretty quick. Was workin’ okay this morning, but once the rain started, Tommy sent me packin’.”

“You went to work like this, Joel?! Isn’t that like, dangerous? You could really hurt yourself,” you chastise, rubbing his upper arm comfortingly while staring up at him looking utterly devastated. Christ he may melt into a puddle right here. He’s seen this look before, and though he doesn’t want you close enough to catch this, he doesn’t have the heart to shove you away like he did Tommy. He bothers to look at least a little guilty, and you sigh before continuing: “Bad idea. And you know it. Now, let’s figure this out. You’ve got the cough down for sure - what are your other symptoms?”

Before Joel can respond, he looks down into the small basket hanging over your arm and notices its contents: a box of pads, tampons, a bag of peanut M&Ms, a resealable bag of bite-sized chocolates, sour gummy worms, two different pain medications, and a box of peppermint tea. Pain relief, pads, and candy salad. Caught. This is not a conversation you want to have with Joel — men get weird about periods for some childish reason, and you’re really not in the mood. You glance down and move the basket behind you a bit, ready to brush him off and keep the conversation on him, but when you meet his eyes they’re wider and his brows are furrowed above you, drinking you in.

“You sure you’re feeling alright?,” he asks, gesturing to the contents of your little black basket. His tone mirrors the worry you’ve been bleeding since you turned onto the aisle. You’re taken aback by the question at all, given the obvious nature of today’s dilemma — one most men you know wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. His voice doesn’t waver, and his expression doesn’t falter, or express an ounce of discomfort. It’s interesting, but you’d rather not dwell on it, and laugh him off anyway.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before of course,” you smile and wave your hand in the air to brush off his concern, but his eyebrows inch closer to one another, and his head tilts slightly to the side. You’re the one growing warm under his perusal now, so you turn the subject back to him. “Anyway, talk to me. What’s the matter?”

Joel stares a moment longer, but begins to rattle off a list of fairly standard cold symptoms. You’re glad it isn’t anything too serious, he’ll probably just feel crappy for a couple of days while his immune system does the heavy lifting. Now to figure out what can be done to make him more comfortable in the meantime. One thing you know for certain after hearing the growing congestion in his voice and the rasp in his throat — he’s gonna need the stronger stuff. You take the boxes from his hands and return them to the shelf. He looks at you perplexed, struggling to sniffle against the congestion that — according to the pained squinting he’s still doing beneath the fluorescent lights — is giving him a hell of a sinus headache, and keeping him from breathing through his nose. Fine as he may be in a few days, at the moment he looks devastatingly uncomfortable.

“Yeah, this crap on the shelf isn’t gonna work. Let’s get ya some of the stronger stuff,” you say, patting his shoulder before tugging him along to the pharmacy. He doesn’t ask any questions, just quietly follows your lead. Along the way, you explain the useless nature of the phenylephrine in the easy stuff, and how the good stuff requires you to show your ID. You tell him why the drugs with the pseudoephedrine are more helpful, and he nods and snuffles in understanding. Sounds good to him, he’ll let you take the lead on that one. As smart as he knows you are, he more than trusts your judgment.

You approach the counter and begin perusing the options, talking with the pharmacist about what you need, when Joel starts coughing again. You can’t help but rub his back and whisper soft words in comfort when his face twists in pain from the fit wreaking havoc in his chest. As your hand moves in soothing circles across his back, you can feel the heat of his skin through his t-shirt. Shit, he didn’t say anything about a fever. You need to get him home as soon as possible.

When he’s composed a bit, you wrap up with the pharmacist, and she asks for your ID. You pull yours from your bag and hand it to her, but pause. Should you show her your own? Does she need to see Joel’s too?

“Oh, for sure. Uhm, do you need to see his too, since he’s the patient?” you ask, wanting to get done with this as quickly and smoothly as possible so you can get him out of here. She’s looking at the card in her hand intently and entering your information into the computer, busy with the transaction.

“No ma’am. We don’t need your husband’s ID since you’re the one purchasing,” she responds, not lifting her eyes from the computer. You blush at this, but she doesn’t seem to notice until Joel’s eyes go wide and he chokes, forcing him into another bout of harsh coughing. Jesus, his throat must be torn up. You reach for him with one hand and place your own basket and a few other sick day supplies on the counter with the other before she finalizes the transaction.

“Thanks for all your help!,” you say a bit frantically as you begin to usher him toward the exit. You walk out of the store in silence, neither one of you looking at the other, each of you trying to keep a nervous smirk at bay. Only when the automatic doors shut behind you do you turn to look at each other and laugh heartily, extremely entertained by the pharmacist’s assumption. The laughter only ceases when it sends Joel coughing again — you need a read on that fever he’s sporting. Once he’s mostly caught his breath, you move closer and place a gentle hand on his forehead, then move it down toward his cheek. Joel closes his eyes and without realizing, leans forward into your soft touch. When your hand leaves his face, his eyes open to find that look again, and he muses that you may make him sweat before the fever gets the chance.

“You didn’t mention this earlier. Did you know you’re running a fever, Joel?” you ask him, and he looks guilty toward the asphalt.

“Tommy mighta mentioned somethin’ about it earlier, but I’ll be alright,” he responds, but fails to suppress a shiver when the breeze kicks up. Your heart breaks a little seeing him shaking — how did you miss that earlier? You sigh deeply before telling him you’re hesitant to let him drive home. He insists it’ll be fine, and you understand it’d be more of a hassle to come get his truck later on. You concede since it’s such a short trip back, but you’ll follow him back to your adjacent homes.

—--------------------

After parking your car in the driveway next to his own, you meet Joel at his truck. You bat his hand away when he attempts to grab the bags from yours, and tell him to go unlock the door. Ever the gentleman, he’s a little perturbed, but follows your instructions anyway. Once you’re both inside the house, you set the items on the table and sit him down next to it before heading for the cabinet and filling a glass with water. After passing him the glass and watching as he slowly sips, you unload the bags, and begin reading the back of the box from the pharmacy.

“Have you eaten anything today? It’s probably not a great idea to take this on an empty stomach,” you say. He goes a little green at the thought of eating anything before swallowing and huffing a response.

“No, haven’t really felt like it. Don’t think it’d sit well right now, to be honest. I’ll be alright with just the medicine, I bet.” You sigh in response, a little anxious it’ll make him feel worse, but either option could do that at this point. At least the thought of the medicine isn’t nauseating for him at the moment. You’ll let it slide, for now.

“Fine. But you’ll definitely need to eat something substantial later,” you tell him, giving him a once-over, taking advantage of the single instance he’s below you to get a good look at him. You’re already thinking through take-out options that might help tonight. Another day, you’d make some soup for him — get him full and warm him up. Hell, tomorrow you might. But today you’re exhausted, with the period fatigue and the cramps that won’t let up, you’re definitely ready to get into some more comfy Friday Afternoon Clothes.

“Alright, you get changed and get comfy on the couch. I’m just gonna run home and get outta these work clothes, then I’ll be right back.”

“You’ve done plenty already today, darlin’, really. Helped me out more than you know. And I’d hate for you to catch this too,” he explains, looking guiltier than you’d like. You’re plenty aware of the risk here but at the moment you couldn’t care less. You don’t really feel like sitting by yourself in your house right now anyway. No reason both of you should feel crappy alone.

“Uh, Joel, did you forget that we’re ‘married’ now? I’ll be back in just a minute to check on you,” you insist, smiling at him. He looks at you admonishingly and smiles back, shaking his head. You have no idea how happy that makes him — his stomach flutters at the joke, and it isn’t from his illness. You hesitate on the way out the door, and turn to check with him once again. “If having me hovering is gonna keep you up though, I can totally leave you be. I don’t want to keep you from getting the rest you need.” Your voice and expression are apprehensive, afraid to be a bother.

He probably doesn’t still his face well enough, and he’s certain you can see desperation in his eyes when he shakes his head. He can’t tell you quite yet, but he’s over the moon you want to stick around. All semblance of nobility is dropped - having you near him could never be unwelcome. “You don’t hover, sweetheart. Nothing about you is bothersome. I’d love the company, actually,” he tells you in earnest.

Your expression settles at the reassurance, and you smile back at him. “Good. I’ll just be a few minutes,” you begin, but your smile turns to a grimace with the last few words as you feel a sharp twisting in your stomach and lower back. Your hand instinctively grips your stomach, hoping to ease the pain. There’s definitely no escaping that one. Joel’s eyes widen, but you cut him off before he can ask if you’re okay. “Yep, I'm gonna get out of these pants and into something loose before my uterus tries to kill me,” you joke, reaching for the knob.

Joel chuckles in response but he’s frowning a bit. The look from the drugstore is back, and you don’t know what to do with his sympathy. You can’t look long before heading out.

He hates seeing the pain you’re in, but what upsets him most is the way you brush it off. Like your pain is smaller, or insignificant by comparison — one he wouldn’t draw anyway. It sticks with him more than it probably should, but he can’t seem to shake it. He needs to act, somehow. Once he’s changed, he grabs a few blankets from the closet and the heating pad they keep around for his back and for Sarah’s own cycles. He knows how much it can help her, so he figures it couldn’t hurt to offer, at least.

He sets up a spot on the couch for you both — a little nest for staring at the tv and, (he hopes), cozying up just a bit for extra comfort. He’s still not hungry, but he microwaves a bag of popcorn and grabs some other assorted salty snacks to join the candy you’d picked up. He’s seen how snacky you can get after school sometimes, and wants to make sure you have an array of options, prepped for any craving.

You return as he’s placing the last of these items down on the coffee table — he’s rather proud of his little presentation — and sees your hair up and a comfy set of sweats that are just a little too long in the arms and legs. Lord help him, you look fucking adorable. He can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face when you walk toward him.

“Well don’t you look cozy,” he says with eyes shining at your improved expression. You give him an exaggerated little twirl to show off the baggy outfit you’ve adorned yourself in for this evening’s activities.

“Damn right! I’m ready for anything now,” you say, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie. He’s laughing in response before it catches in his throat again and he starts coughing.

“That makes one of us,” he jokes once he’s caught his breath.

“Yep, I want you on the couch. Right now. Go ahead and get comfy and I’ll get the medicine. We gotta get you drugged up enough if you’re gonna get any sleep.” You’re ushering him to the couch when you stop in your tracks. When you catch sight of the coffee table snacks and the heating pad set up on one side of the couch, already plugged in and waiting, you nearly tear up. You’re speechless for a moment — no one’s ever done anything like this for you before. This little thoughtful gesture means the world, and you’re not sure what to say.

“Joel! You didn’t need to do all this. You’re sick, I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you insist, nudging his arm with your own, leaning lightly into his side.

“Wasn’t hardly anything, darlin’, just some stuff I know helps Sarah when she gets to feelin’ like you do. She likes her snacks salty, and always feels better with this little fire hazard next to ‘er,” he says, gesturing to the heating pad on the couch. His grin turns mischievous before he starts again: “Besides, you said it yourself, we’re ‘married’ now, huh? I oughta know what my wife needs just as well,” he finishes, voice too satisfied, and eyebrows raised in jest.

You’re giggling when you grab his hand and squeeze it, thanking him. “This goofy little bit we’re doin’ ends the second Sarah and your brother walk through the door, by the way. Not looking to scare her, that’s the last thing I wanna do,” you instruct.

“‘Course, but fuckin’ with Tommy sure woulda been fun,” he says to you, and you laugh in agreement. Once you see he’s settled, you make tea for the both of you, hoping it’ll work magic with the medicine to get him resting comfortably and — with any luck — napping before long. He’ll probably protest, but with a little coaxing, you’ll get it into him.

When you return with the tea, he takes it from you with both hands, before using one to pull you down on the couch next to him. He’s pulled you a little closer than you may have sat yourself, and he’s pleased when you don’t pull away or readjust. You just grab the heating pad, crank it up, and stick it behind your lower back while leaning forward to grab the medicine. You check his temperature again with the back of your hand while he’s preoccupied taking the medicine you’d doled out to him. He’s a little warmer than he was outside the drug store.

“Maybe we should get a number on that. Where do you keep your thermometer?” you ask, worry written on your face all over again. You attempt to rise from the couch to go hunting, but he grips your hand again, keeping you in place.

“Nope, nope, it’s fine sweetheart, I promise. You need to get some rest too. Sit,” he directs, his tone leaving no room for discussion. You roll your eyes, but wriggle back against the couch again before pulling a blanket into your lap. Joel fiddles with the cord of the heating pad and readjusts it behind your back, making sure it isn’t folded or sitting uncomfortably against you. You sigh in relief and fall a bit toward him as you settle in, and he inches you way as well. You arbitrarily turn on a movie you’ve both seen, fully aware neither of you will be making it to the end, and snuggle closer. The fevered heat humming beneath his skin is pleasantly warm against you as he settles deeper, and he’s slipping in and out of conversation within minutes.

_____________________________________________________________

Sarah walks through the door with Tommy in tow while end credits roll across the tv. They head into the den to check on Joel, but conversation falls silent and they stop in their tracks at the sight they discover. You’re sleeping peacefully, legs tucked up under you and head lolled against the back of the couch. Joel’s head has somehow found its way into your lap, and he’s resting warmly on your stomach, no doubt alleviating some of the pain with his warmth and weight. Your hand rests on his shoulder, holding him securely.

Tommy’s face goes slack, but Sarah’s smiling ear to ear, and turns to her uncle, trying to quiet her laughter. He looks at her wide-eyed, but says nothing, and she holds her hand out between them, fingers curling toward her palm.

“Pay up,” she says, way too satisfied for Tommy’s liking, and far too much like her father. He rolls his eyes, and digs his wallet out of his pocket. He really thought his brother would be too chicken to do anything about this — at least for a little while longer.

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moonsgemini · 8 months

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cinnamon girl - rafe cameron

summary: hating rafe cameron was easy to do when you were both teenagers, but after years a part and time spent thinking about one another one thing leads to another. Secret rendezvous between kook prince and kook princess ensue, finding any spare minute to be with each other without the judgey eyes of outer banks.

warnings: 18+, minors dni, fem reader, she/her, p in v, praise kink, semi public sex (a bunch of people are downstairs), fingering, oral f receiving, dirty talk, sneaking around, secret relationship, cussing, alcohol, enemies to lovers kinda

wc: 3.5k

an: another smutty smut. I have had this in my drafts for a bit & I just needed to finish it. It started out as being inspired by cinnamon girl by lana but I like don’t know what happened. also two posts in one day ???? who am I.

masterlist

In high school when y/n read Romeo and Juliet she fell in love with the tragic romance. She was astounded that love could be so intense and passionate. So much so that they were sneaking around behind everyone’s backs and the miscommunication ultimately leading to their deaths.

When she was sixteen she met Rafe Cameron. When her father introduced her to the tall blonde she didn’t think he would eventually be her Romeo. Especially not since he didn’t even smile or show the slightest interest in her. Their fathers had recently worked on a business deal together and had got along so well they wanted their families to get together.

She knew who he was and what he was like. Rumors run rampant on the figure eight. He constantly had snarky comments and remarks to make at her. Whether it be about her outfit, her likes, and especially about the boys she dated. y/n would be talking to Sarah about the boy she just went on a date with and Rafe would butt in with his two cents. He was a year older than her and he always made sure to act like he knew better because he was older.

“Fabian? You do know he like has dated half the cheer and volleyball teams,” Rafe scoffed as he stood in front of her and Sarah who were sat on the pool chairs outside. He had overheard y/n talking about the new guy she was seeing and Rafe couldn’t believe who the guy was. He also couldn’t believe she was dating at all.

Y/n looked at him with a glare, “I don’t remember asking for your input.”

“You could really use it though. Seems like you’re pretty fucking clueless at the fact that you’re a lot better than that asshole,” He rolled his eyes annoyed at the fact she couldn’t see how this escapade will end in heart break. He was only looking out for her so he doesn’t understand why she was so annoyed.

She chuckled bitterly, “Yeah like you care, besides I can find out for myself Rafe. I don’t need you telling me what’s good for me or not.”

Rafe rolled his eye because to him he did know what was good for her and Fabian was not. “Well when he ends up hurting you I’ll be ready to tell you I told you so,” He smirked taking a sip of his beer and walking away.

Sarah scoffed muttering, “Hate him.”

Y/n sighed watching him walk away and talk to her dad, “Couldn’t agree with you more.”

The first few years she knew Rafe she hated him. As much as you could hate him. He had always been extremely handsome, something she definitely noticed, and as he got older he became even hotter. In front of her parents he was charming and they interpreted his cocky demeanor as confidence. Whenever she complained about the Cameron boy being a prick they said they liked that Rafe knew what he wanted and always went for it, something that y/n could learn from him.

After she went away to college these family dinners became much smaller with only the parents and younger siblings. The kids having grown up and gone their own ways. Rafe was always on the mainland taking care of his dad’s business. Sarah had gone off to college so it was practically an empty nest. Occasionally during holiday breaks Sarah and y/n would join them for game night or dinner but Rafe still wasn’t around much.

She couldn’t lie and say he didn’t swim in her thoughts every now and then. Okay maybe more often then she’d like. Especially when he’d post on instagram and his bright smile would infect her mind on the nights she couldn’t fall asleep. She wondered if he ever thought about her but she doubted it since they never liked each other.

Rafe thought about her every day. Whenever he’d see her dad he’d find a way to bring her into conversation. He knew she was coming back soon and he made a note in his calendar to free his schedule on family dinner day because he wanted to see her. He needed to see her. Even if she probably didn’t want to see him because he remembers her hatred for him when they were teenagers. It makes a smirk appear on his lips as he thought about y/n rolling her eyes and sending witty comebacks his way.

It was winter break of her junior year of college when she made if back to the outer banks.

Y/n was surprised to see him drinking a glass of scotch with her dad and Ward as she walked downstairs. Her family was hosting dinner that time. Her first thought when she spotted hime was person he was even more handsome. His boyish look almost completely gone now that he was a man. She noticed he had been working out because his chest and shoulders seemed broader. Could have even gotten taller?

“Hey there she is,” Ward said as she made it all the way down the steps.

She smiled politely and joked, “Here I am, hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

Rafe smirked taking a sip from his glass. After Ward asked her more questions about college and the internship she was starting on the mainland that following summer. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her as she talked to his dad. Seeing him had felt different that time. There was something different in the air.

During dinner they both stole glances at each other. Sometimes when she’d catch him staring at her he wouldn’t look away. Locking his eyes with her smirking and sipping on his second glass of scotch. His long fingers wrapped around the glass grabbed her attention. She watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed. No guys she knew in college drank scotch, because none of them were men like him.

He couldn’t believe how much more beautiful she had gotten in the last three years. She was a woman now and she held herself with so much more confidence than when she was seventeen. Rafe liked that.

“Oh honey give Rafe a tour of the new wine cellar. It is so magnificent our architect is amazing, maybe you’ll like him for a new Cameron employee,” Y/n’s mom said to the young adults who had been eye fucking for the last forty minutes. Y/n’s mom had been feeling her second glass of wine now which led to her being all giddy and generous. It’s always what her mom did. So whenever they went to charity events her mom just needed a glass of wine to sign a check for $10,000.

She was also an avid wine collector so for the last year they had been building a wine cellar under the house. It turned out beautiful. All wood and the lighting was moody. There were racks of wines all around the room and a few in the middle creating ailse. There were also a few big wooden support beams.

“Sure mom. Follow me,” Y/n said nodding her head towards the back. He smirked standing up and following her a few paces behind so he could stare at her back side. She led him out to the side of the house where the entrance was. If her mom knew what she ultimately helped happen she’d kill the both of them. Mostly for committing such a sin next to her most prized possessions.

Ten minutes into the tour Rafe had y/n pinned against one of those wooden beams. Her legs wrapped around his waist with her hands in his hair tugging whenever he’d hit that spot she could never reach on her own. No college guy she had been with was ever able to hit that spot either. Their breaths mixed together as their faces were close together, y/n’s skirt bunched around her waist. One of his hands was under her shirt tweaking her nipple.

His dick inside of her smoothly sliding in and out as he fucked her. Rafe knew he would never forget this moment. Never forget just how wet she had been, all the noises she was making sounding heavenly.

The first time was erotic. Years of built up sexual tension was finally getting released and it felt so good. His hands, his lips, his body felt better than she could ever have imagined.

When they were done Rafe kissed her, lips slotting naturally with her like they always belonged there. She was worried it was a one time thing but he wasn’t acting like it. That bubble of anxiety in her chest popping as he continued to be sweet to her. He had slowly pulled out and set her down gently. Tugging her skirt back down and helping her step into her panties he had tugged off in a frenzy. He fixed himself as she fixed her hair and makeup.

“That’s not the last time that’s gonna happen,” He said breaking the silence, “I like you too much to let you go.”

Since the first night they hooked up they have been sneaking around behind their families backs seeing each other. Rafe flew and road tripped to her apartment more times that winter and spring than he can count. When she came back for the summer he was practically living at her house. He’d sneak in at night like they were teenagers and he’d sleep over or stay up talking with her until she fell asleep then he’d sneak out. Or sometimes (a lot of times) they’d be doing something else that involved rafe’s mouth on her.

When y/n got her internship he’d meet her for lunch. They’d hangout in secluded areas on the beach and whenever they wanted to have a nice date night they’d stay a few cities over for the weekend to be alone and be a couple in public. For her birthday Rafe took her to the Amalfi coast for a few days where they spent most of the time on a boat, in a pool, or in bed having amazing sex. Y/n told her parents she was going to the lake for the weekend where she’d barely have service. Somehow they believed it.

They kept it a secret not because their families would be upset. It’s the opposite actually, they’d be too excited. Then there would be all this pressure on their relationship. The mom’s and Ward would be urging Rafe to propose because their families merging would make them look incredibly good and powerful in the developing industry. They’d want a huge wedding with a bunch of people they don’t know. There’d start to be talk about grand babies. All of figure eight would be talking about the kook prince and princess dating and on their way to live off their trusts. It would just be too much.

It was the last dinner party of the summer and Y/n was giddy. She hadn’t seen Rafe in two weeks because he had gone away on a business trip with his dad and then she had gone on to see her grandparents in New York. It was the most time they had spent a part in the last four months.

Tonight would be the last night they see each other for another couple weeks while y/n moves into her senior year apartment and settles into school. Rafe knew how important school was to her so he wanted to give her space to settle which she was grateful for because pre law was not easy. It would also be too suspicious if he randomly showed up to help while her parents are there.

This was a big dinner party so it was perfect. Y/n’s parents were hosting so it was all perfect. Every big family on Figure Eight, even the ones who only summer there, was at her house. The house was filled with many distractions since her mother also loved collecting art. No one would see them sneak upstairs to her room, especially with all the wine that’s being consumed.

Rafe had been dreaming about touching her since he last saw her. Oh and when he saw her he didn’t even waste a moment. As soon as he saw an opportunity to drag her upstairs to her bedroom he did. It was when appetizers were brought out and everyone had gathered outside. Y/n smirked the whole time knowing he wanted her as bad as she wanted him. Her short dress definitely did the job it was supposed to when she spotted his hard on when he first grabbed her.

His eagerness showing when he practically slammed her against the inside of the bedroom door. His lips on hers with fervor. They moved expertly against each other. Immediately finding their rhythm, no matter how many times they have each other it’s never enough.

His hands sliding down her waist and slowly going under her sundress. That’s when he feels nothing. She wasn’t wearing any panties. He instantly got harder and groaned into her mouth.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” He mumbled as he began trailing kisses down her neck.

Her hands tugged at his hair, “I missed you Rafey,” she whined not even feeling the slightest bit embarrassed about her eagerness. She had missed him so much.

He began walking her towards the bed. His lips still latching onto any exposed skin on her chest. They kicked their shoes off in the process, Rafe undid a few more buttons of his shirt. His tanned broad chest making her breathing uneven. When her knees hit the end of the bed she sat back crawling backwards towards the pillows. He followed her his knees spreading her legs.

“I missed you baby,” He gently cupped her face and stroked her cheek softly, “I can’t wait to make you cum.”

The soft gesture with the dirty words made her cheeks feel hot. That devilish smirk appearing on Rafe’s face like he knew that would happen. And that’s because he did know. Rafe knew her body and he knows just what to do to make her squirm. He looked too hot for her to even care how dirty he sounded. Sometimes she’d shy away but other times it made her putty in his hands. Y/n reached forward kissing him not so gently. They’d have time for the lovey dovey stuff later.

He began kissing down her body. Her chin then her neck, paying attention to that spot that made her hips jerk up for relief. His hand were gliding up her legs pushing her dress up around her waist in the process.

Rafe kissed her shoulders as he pushed her straps down in a teasing manor. He kissed her collarbones then her chest. Finally moving to her stomach and her pelvic bone. Oh had he missed this. His hands moved to her knees spreading her legs wider.

Y/n’s hands were in his hair already tugging. Giving an even harder tug when he reach forward giving her a teasing lick. She had to cover her mouth with one hand to not be loud.

Rafe wanted to tease her but he just couldn’t resist. He dove right in. His tongue finding her clit immediately, moving his tongue in circles. He alternated between that and licking down her slit. Tongue teasing her entrance. It was all so euphoric.

Her back arched off her bed. Y/n tried her best to keep quiet but a few moans slipped out. She hoped the chatter and music playing downstairs was enough to cover her noises. Rafe hummed against her core making the feeling even more intense.

“Oh god Rafey,” She sighed dreamily, “I missed your mouth. Know just what to do.”

He lives for the praise. It boosted his ego and encouraged him to do better and outdo himself. Hearing her breathy wins and moans muffled by her own hand were making him impossibly hard.

As he sucked and licked her clit he reached around and abruptly slipped a finger into her wet center. Her thighs practically suffocating him as he moved in and out of her touching that perfect spot inside of her. He always made her cum and he always did it fast. Before she met Rafe she had only ever finished with her own hand or vibrator.

“I’m gonna cum!” She whisper shouted.

Rafe moaned, “Cum for me baby.”

It felt like electricity was going through her body as she came. His movements relentless until he knew she was satisfied. He began to slow down as she came down, leaving her with one final lick. He kissed the inside of her thighs softly before crawling up to her again. She pulled him forward needing his lips on hers. She moaned at her taste on his tongue.

“I need to be inside you,” Rafe groaned as he felt one of her hands reach down and palm him through his pants.

“Please fuck me,” She batted her eyelashes at him knowing it always got her what she wanted.

He groaned again before sitting back on his feet so he can unbutton the rest of his shirt. Y/n sat up pulling her dress all the way off. Rafe made quick work of his pants pulling them down his legs.

His member slapped against his stomach, her mouth watering at the sight. Rafe was created with care, everything about him was perfect to her. He grabbed his length pumping it a few times before he rubbed his tip through her folds. Spreading her wetness around, his eyes rolled back at the feeling.

“Oh please please put it in,” She whined, “I need you so bad Rafey.”

“Baby your wish is my command,” He smirked and thrusted into her slowly pushing in inch by inch.

“Yes yes yes yes,” She chanted in pure bliss. Y/n didn’t care how desperate she sounded.

Rafe sighed as he began moving slowly. She was so tight and warm, even better than he remembered. He knew he wasn’t going to last long but he would make sure she came again before he did at all. He hit that spot inside of her that made her eye’s roll back and toes curl.

“Taking me so good my love,” Rafe encouraged as he picked up speed.

He grabbed one of her boobs and brushed his thumb over her hardened nipple. He leaned down and placed the other one in his mouth sucking and licking gently. All of the stimulation had her body feeling like it was on fire. He released it with a pop and went back to capture her lips in his. Y/n’a hands gripped his hair and clawed his back

“I’m gonna cum babe,” She moaned, “Yes right there, oh oh god.”

“Yeah baby cum for me,” He sighed, “Fuck I’m gonna cum too.”

Her eyes rolled back at his words, “Please cum in me, fill me up please please,” she blubbered feeling overwhelmed by the orgasm that was about to take over her body. The sounds of his deck sliding in and out of her wet pussy made him reach the edge. Everything about her was so sexy from the noises she made to the way she looked sprawled out below him.

Her words made him pick up his pace pounding into her. He felt her clench around him knowing she was coming. She moaned and scratched his back as she came. Biting her lip to not let anymore loud noises slip out of her. He came inside of her with a groan. Rafe continued to pump in and out of her slowing down as he came down from his high.

He swore he could cum again just looking at her all fucked out. Her hair all over the place, lipstick smudged and probably all over his face.

After a few minutes of catching their breaths Rafe pulled out gently. A whine leaving her lips at the empty feeling. Rafe got up going to her bathroom to get a towel to clean her up. When he came back he dabbed her center cleaning up.

“I missed you so much Rafe,” Y/n said breaking the silence.

He leaned forward kissing her knee, “I missed you more my love.”

“You think anyone heard?”

He shrugged, “Don’t think so. If they did then oops.”

She laughed, “Don’t say that Rafe, then we will get caught.”

He smirked as he laid next to her again opening his arms as an invitation that she gladly took. Resting her head on his chest and he leg wrapped around his waist. One of his hands stroking her hair and the other rubbing up and down her body slowly feeling all her exposed skin.

“Lets lay a few minutes then get back to hearing my dad talk about business for hours,” Y/n said savoring the feeling of laying with him.

“I love you,” He kissed the crown of her head a few times.

She smiled, “I love you. Sneak over tonight?” She asked looking up at him hopefully.

“Read my mind,” He smirked.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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Me & Mr. Miller

au!Joel Miller x f!Reader [5.2k] summary: You and Joel had a deal to stay away from each other. The only obstacle is—neither one of you wants to do that. He might be the father of one of your closest friends and someone a few (many) years older than you, but... who cared. Not you. Not him. The deal wasn't going as planned. 📝 in this scenario the outbreak never happened! joel miller is doing just fine! If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ age gap, misunderstanding, secret relationship, pining, strangers to lovers. Oral (f receiving), penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, dirty talking, love-making.

masterlist |

ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.

"Aw, shit, Joel. Fuck," Tess turned to him with her face twisted into a weird, panicked smile, and that's exactly when Joel realized he'd gone and fucked up again somehow. "You set me up. You set me up!"

"What?!"

"We could've at least told me you were inviting me to Sarah's birthday to be eaten fuckin' alive—is she still looking at me? Goddamn," the panic left for a second, replaced with a knowing smirk that he was unfortunately too familiar with. "She's got really nice eyes, I'll tell you that much. Were you gonna tell me I came here to make your girlfriend jealous? And really—is she still looking? 'Cause those are very intimidating eyes, and I'm gonna need to prepare myself."

There was no preparing to look into your eyes.

Joel would know.

He was done for the minute he laid eyes on you. The way you looked at him.

His hands started to sweat, and his mouth ran dry. He had to look. Gravity couldn't keep him from it.

"You know... a lot makes sense now," Tess starts.

"Don't."

Tess chuckles, hiding it in her drink. "Jeez—did you win her by blabbering her ears out? 'Cause I only got a single look into Miss Daggers for Eyes, but she looks—"

"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna regret having brought you, won't I?" Joel interrupts because he can't turn around as sharply as he'd like, and he can feel it already. Your eyes on him.

Tess stops hiding her laughter, "Oh, for sure. And only because I'm gonna make it very hard for you because you didn't tell me. Because you think that not talking about it makes things just... go away," she wiggles her fingers like dandelions in the sky, and Joel loves his best friend, but she can be a bit of a dick.

"I was gonna tell you," he sighs, fidgeting inside the stupid blazer; sipping his bourbon to ease the jitteriness inside his skin already proved to be a terrible fucking idea when in your presence. "I was—" and where are you? There are a lot of people behind Tess' shoulders and Joel could spot you in a football crowd.

"Jesus." Tess enunciates every letter. "Joel, find her so you can have your focus back."

"Just for the record, she isn't my girlfriend," he states.

Tess scoffs, and it says more than words could.

"She isn't," he presses.

"I believe you," says Tess. "But now I also know I wasn't crazy when I said you were happier last year after going to New York. You were. And Miss Daggers for Eyes—"

"She has a name."

"—is the reason. Does she? Does she have a name, Joel? Her parents are so kind for giving her one," Tess sasses. "I would know her name if you hadn't hidden her from me."

"I didn't hide anybody, there was nobody to hide. Also, can you shut up? You're louder than my thoughts."

The next laugh comes accompanied by a slap on the shoulder, and Tess walking away, but not before whispering in his ear. "Joel, buddy, I wholeheartedly believe you had the best intentions with bringing me here, but here's a tip you didn't ask for: Not one of you is as over whatever the hell happened as you may think. Talk to her."

Talk to her.

As if it was that simple.

As if there wasn't a deal.

Joel needs to find you, but first, he needs another drink.

He gulps down his glass and tries to smile as the guests pass him by. None of them seem to notice his imminent heart attack. None of them see through his carefully curated nonchalance, and he's happy about that.

There's already a person present who can see through him like glass, and he can barely deal with that one.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤNYC, Spring of 2022.

You stood no chance against him.

The first time you saw him, Joel looked like a Wes Anderson visual.

Pink suit, grey strands unabashedly mixed in his soft, shiny black hair, and a shy smile to put any of the other men present to shame.

You were drawn like a moth to a flame.

He looked quite serious without that beautiful smile on—he looked like someone who would, in fact, never wear a pink suit, so you walked over to him and slid right next to his spot at the bar. "That's a bold outfit choice," were your first words. You smiled when his eyes landed on you, so wide and filled with surprise; warm, and stunning like a hot summer day. "But it suits you."

Joel looked stunned for a moment.

He blinked, sipped his bourbon glass and his eyes did a not-subtle-at-all up and down. Then, he put down his glass and the corner of his mouth twitched with the idea of a smile. "I lost a bet," he answered. You recognized the southern accent immediately. "Believe it or not."

"Oh, I believe you," you chuckled.

"It suits me, though?" he asked, opening his arms to the sides.

You nodded. "It does," your peripheral vision caught Bruna approaching behind the bar, and you smiled at her. "Hi, babe. Can I get a caipirinha, please?"

"Hey, girl," she smiled at you and used all of her subtlety to glance at Joel observing the exchange. "Sure thing. Vodka, sake, or cachaça?"

"Bruna, you know there's only one way to do a proper caipirinha," you rolled your eyes.

Bruna smiled. "Cachaça it is, then. Lemon, or something else?"

"Hm, how about an unexpected fruit? Surprise me."

"You got it. Anything else?" she asked.

"Nope, just remember to drink some water. You always work too hard," you winked at her.

Bruna left to make your drink with a blinding smile on her face, and you turned around to find Joel staring. He leaned on the counter with his arm supported on it, and as soon as you looked at him he asked, "Where d'you two know each other from?"

You pointed at the huge banners of NYU standing behind you. "She goes there — I go there."

"You go to NYU?"

"I do," you answered. "Getting my phD, actually," your smile always came out at that.

Joel's face never hides his surprise, but the smile was unexpected and very welcome. "Wow. Congratulations."

"Thank you. I imagine you're here because of the Spring exhibition?" you looked around at the gallery where everyone around looked as posh as you and he did, save for the curious New Yorker just enjoying their walk.

"I am. My daughter has a paper on display on the third floor," he replied.

"Politics and Law area?"

"That's her," he confirmed.

"I have a few close friends in the department," you smiled. "It was my first stop."

"Are you here showin' something too?"

"I'm actually here as one of 'somethings' to show?" No matter how long in the business, talking about being the art itself was always surreal. Especially in front of otherwordly handsome and charming men. Where was Bruna with your drink when you needed her? "My roommate's exhibition won the main exhibit, and we — dancers — are her tool. Her paint."

"You're part of the main exhibit?" He looked every bit impressed, and you nodded, feeling giddy at the prospect. "Double wow. Wait—shouldn't you be backstage, then?"

"Oh, no, gods, no. This whole thing stays here all afternoon, the final piece is only at sunrise—6pm, kinda?"

"Okay. And do I get to know your name before you run off to become art or d'you plan on dropping a crystal shoe so I can roam around later tryin' to find out?"

That had been the first time he made you laugh.

Truly laugh; not a few breaths out of your nose or an easy chuckle—Joel was silly, and he looked like modern-day Adonis in the stupid pink suit that he only wore because of a goddamn bet, and you had no chance.

"I'm Joel," he extended his hand.

That had been the doom of it all—no last names. Only smiles.

You shook his hand and offered your name back, only for him to repeat it out loud.

Test it on his tongue.

You were always doomed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.

Jealousy looked godly on you.

Joel hated himself for even thinking it, but he hated himself a lot this evening.

He had hurt you, for starters.

The only thing he set himself not to do, and he'd done it.

More than a year has passed since the fateful day you stepped, yet better—waltzed into his field of vision, and had he known a day of peace ever since?

The day he met you still played on his head like a broken record stuck inside a player:

Saying goodbye to Sarah in front of the gallery, turning around the corner, and seeing you with smoke blowing in front of your face, smiling at the sight of him. You in your green dress. The happiness written all over you, the obvious and earnest glee of seeing that Joel was still around.

Walking with you all around New York, feeling three times less intimidated by the imposing streets with you by his side. The smell of your apartment, the street food you two got on the way, the conversation that flowed as easy as a river stream.

Joel had the imprint of your shining personality burning behind his eyelids. The taste of strawberry from your caipirinha permanently inked on his tongue.

He stood no chance against your eyes—as much as she teased, Tess was right.

Miss Daggers for Eyes.

The way you looked at him at said, "You gotta stop looking at me like that, Joel. I'm starting to think you're not paying attention to what I'm saying," even though you already knew that to be true. Since the moment the strap of your blouse fell from your shoulders and you kept on talking, Joel was fish in a net.

He had the taste of your cunt and the smell of being buried between your thighs waking him up late at night for the next months to come.

The way you rode his face just as he asked you to—no mercy, no shame, only that, only your desires and the alcohol and the weed and the conversation and everything—everything, everything, everything.

Joel took it all out like a starved, greedy man, and you took it back, and neither of you slept until the sun was shining again in the sky.

The next couple of months were filled with texts since Texas demanded him back home and you were already home.

It could've been just friendship.

It was supposed to be simple.

So what if you two called each other and got off while on the phone like a couple of young adults who can't bear to be away from each other? So what if Joel texted you and had to endure Tess and other co-workers smiling at him and wondering, "what the hell's got Joel Damn Miller in a good mood, huh?"

So what if Joel learned more about you than he could admit to himself that he even wanted to know? Even if he was the one asking?

It didn't matter, because it wasn't simple.

Because when you called and said, "Your name is Joel Miller?" he realized why Sarah said he was such a 'distant concept'. No social media meant nobody to pry, but it also meant misunderstandings.

It also meant having to answer you with apprehension, because your tone had never been that off. "It is. Why are you sayin' it like I'm on a list or somethin'?"

"Joel." His stomach fell at his name alone. "You're Sarah's dad. Fuck. Of course you are—"

"Wait, you know Sarah?"

"Yes, I know Sarah. I'm friends with Sarah, or I was before—oh god, she's gonna kill me. She is, isn't she?"

He had assisted you through your panic even though he felt the same.

He walked outside his office, talked you through your next breaths, and guaranteed you there was no reason to panic. "That's it, it's ok, hun'—," he stopped, cursed mentally, and rectified his mistake with his name. You were not his hun, and Joel had been lost on cloud nine without realizing you could've never been. "Just breathe. She doesn't know. She won't know. You two are fine."

That had been it, or so he thought.

Joel stared a lot at the last message he received from you. Thought about sending something else. Continuing the conversation.

Instead, he let the silence make the dust settle.

It had been a haze.

A dream, or a glitch in the matrix—it wouldn't be happening again, and no matter how much he looked at the text you sent weeks prior — i really like talking to you, Joel — nothing would change.

Except it did.

Except — the silence amounted to nothing.

One look at you across the street and Joel was dragged back in.

That Summer when Sarah invited him back, Joel had almost said no, but he remained as able to deny her anything as when she was a kid. The weekend went perfectly, and Joel did his best to not think of you as he was there, but all it took was a few words on a screen:

ㅤㅤㅤㅤSaw Sarah's IG stories. You loaok so good when you smile , JoelㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLove how the sweater looks on yoyu

Drunk baby. Honey.

The second time there was no deal on the table yet, but there was you.

Joel appeared at your apartment door at twenty past two in the morning and only left a couple of hours before his plane left.

You two pretended your apartment was a bubble.

It worked.

Joel had missed you. It sounded silly when he thought it early in the morning before leaving for work—when everyday routine served as bitter medicine it was enough to convince himself it was all just wishful thinking.

With you in the same room as him, lying was harder.

There was no 'wishful' part on how well you two worked.

There was a divine inspiration in the way you made him feel like something new.

Joel felt warm, wanted, devilishly handsome under your gaze. Your careful touch.

"You're so fucking handsome," you repeated to him.

He never thought about his looks, but he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the truth in your words. How much you believed them. "Glad you think so."

"Don't snicker at me like that, Mr. Joel—"

"Snicker? I ain't snickerin', I'm laughin'. You keep tracing my wrinkles like that and I'm gonna get a complex, hun."

"The drama. You're so lame! Oh my god."

"And yet, you're laughing. You know, that's the same shit my daughter says. I'm startin' to think it's true."

"It is. You're silly. But it's okay —" the tip of your fingers tracing his features felt like the first drops of rain hitting the skin. Joel shivered under your touch more times than he cared to count, and he'd only been present for it a couple of times. He'd hate to think of how much you could ruin him with enough time given. How much no other touch would suffice anymore. " — 'cause it's all part of your charm..."

Who would've thought Joel still had it?

Charm.

No amount of charm made up for the situation, though, and before you left, you asked the inevitable question. "No one can know, right?"

"No." He knew what was at stake—your friendship with his most important person. Maybe more. "It was just our last time."

"Right. We're not doing this again."

"We can stay away from each other. I like it like this," he said, pressing his face in your beard-burnt neck, inhaling your sigh and perfume. "But I know..." she can't know.

No—no one can know.

He nuzzled into you, and you nuzzled back. Dug your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. "We can still... talk, can't we?" you asked.

Joel's chest clutched and he held you a little tighter. None of you were at fault for the circumstances, so you both deserved some more stolen time. "We'll talk." He kissed under your ear. "We'll stay away from each other. Talk. Friends can talk. We just—we don't do this anymore. And, no one can know it happened."

"Okay." You sounded muffled against his chest, and Joel thought about how he'd miss touching your hair like this. "I'll just — take a while. To be able to look at you and not —" you stopped abruptly, and pulled away to look up at him and show him not what.

Not look at him with eyes that demanded a kiss.

Without pulling him in by the fire in your eyes.

That had been then — July gave him you again. You for the last time.

The next time Joel saw you after that had been a few weeks ago. Sarah invited you to a party during the holidays, and third time was the charm.

You two talked like good, old friends.

The longing in his chest was ridiculous, the whole entire time.

Now—

jealousy looks good on you.

Sarah's birthday was big enough for Joel to have his eyes on you without you even realizing it. From his bedroom porch, Joel saw you walking by the pool between the guests with that set to your jaw. Another friend of Sarah's stopped you and started a conversation, but the look refused to leave your face.

The problem was—there was nothing Joel could do.

If he pulled you aside to clarify that Tess was only a friend, a work friend who Sarah has called 'Aunty Tess' since she was fourteen, he would be wrong.

Rubbing salt on the wound.

What did it matter what Tess was?

You two had a deal.

Gods, Joel was getting too old for this—too old to watch things from a distance, to see the sadness on the pout of your lips and crave to run and kiss it away, to realize when the lights of the party hit your face in the right angles that your eyes are shining and fuck—

He gets back downstairs and leaves the glass somewhere along the way.

No more bourbon for him.

Joel hears his name called a few times. Allows himself to be distracted by conversation here and there. He's good at lying to himself—he's done it often enough by now. Joel keeps himself trimmed from the deep wants and needs that grow like weeds through his bones, even if he isn't sure why.

Something so rich like you — of course it wasn't for him.

What would he do?

You're Sarah's dad. Fuck.

Sarah's father — he clapped the louder, smiled the brighter, and when the candles were blown and she handed him the first piece of cake, Joel wondered if he should feel guilty for going after someone who's close with daughter of all people.

All he could feel was sadness as he saw you disappearing in the crowd after talking to Sarah in hushed tones inside a hug.

Joel needed to find Tess.

He should leave — his house would be the roof for a lot of people tonight and he needed to talk, maybe—Joel started laughing as soon as the thought came to him.

That's how much you affected him.

He leaves in direction of the kitchen, guarded by the commotion around the cake.

Joel had trouble finding people he liked talking to. You spoke with him for three hours as if time meant nothing, and now it got him wanting to talk about you to his friends, spilling all the bits of stolen moments here and there.

The texts he's read so many times he has memorized.

He needs to get those things off his chest if he wants to stop clinging to them— they've been inside his close fists since Joel got his hands on them — on you — and he hasn't let go ever since.

"Dad?"

He places the bottle down on the fridge shelf, happy he was caught before and not during the act. He pops his head out, and Sarah's standing on the door of the kitchen with a look.

"What?"

"I promised myself I was gonna stay out of this tonight, but — is there a reason? Any solid reason why you two decided to stay away from each other since you're both so... clearly happy about that?" she finishes, eyeing the fridge as if her view is made of x-ray, and the bottle weighs twice more in his hands.

Then—"Wait." Joel's brain freezes. "You knew?"

Sarah's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. "Oh. My god." She blinks once, then covers a burst of laughter with both hands. "Dad. You and she are so not subtle—I thought you knew that I knew — oh my god. It's not because of me, is it? I mean—don't get me wrong, if you two as much as flirt in front of me at first I'm gonna hose both of you like, on the spot, but—I'm ok with it. Obviously. You two are two grown adults, and dad, don't take this the wrong way, but last year was the most I've seen you smile in a long, long time."

Joel needed a few minutes to take all of it in.

Was it just because of Sarah?

No one can know, you'd said. What if you were ashamed of him, too? Of the age difference, and —

"The same goes for her, obviously." Sarah's words pulled him out from underwater. "I've known her for a couple of years, but... last year was definitely happier than the other one."

He smiled. "You're the best, did you know that?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Duh."

"Tell Tess I left?"

"Sure." Sarah's smile spread. "She just left. D'you want me to text you where she's staying?"

Joel had already gifted her, but that didn't stop him from walking over to kiss her cheek and smile proudly. "I'll buy another gift."

"You better."

Joel drove all the way hoping to be right.

Hoping it hadn't all been just a fluke — the moment, a chase, a thrill.

He breathed a deep inhale before knocking on your hotel door.

It took a second before he heard your footsteps, and he wiped his palms on his jeans. "Uhm — I didn't ask for room service?" you sounded confused.

And like you'd been crying.

Fuck him. "I know you didn't."

It was him.

You wished you hadn't opened. He looks good — like always, but better. Hair slicked back, thick jacket to shield from the cold and the soft eyes; it's what bought you, and what traps you again.

You're speechless, but Joel helps.

"I just have somethin' to say and somethin' to ask, then I can be on my way. If you want," he adds.

"I thought we had a deal." It's almost like a plaster. A veil to cover the pink hue on your cheeks, maybe. "And how did you get up here without them calling me?"

He lifted his hands — your scarf was in them, and he tried very little to hide his amusement when he explained. "I've lived in this town my whole life. I just told Nina downstairs you forgot your scarf at the birthday party and you left pretty early tomorrow mornin'." Joel looks past your shoulders. "You're not the only one with friends. Can I come in?"

You wonder if it's possible to say no to him.

You simply take a step back, and Joel walks past you.

He feels like an omen standing there in your hotel room. The one you'd gotten because staying at his house seemed impossible.

The one you dreamt about him appearing out of nowhere, just like now.

If you had drunk more tonight, you would think maybe you're out of it.

"I'll keep it short, mostly 'cause I feel like a nerve wreck." Joel clears his throat and turns around to look at you as you close the door behind you. "She knows. Sarah — she uhm, she asked me basically why we're makin' each other miserable."

She knows.

You feel splinted from your body for a moment as the weight of the secret leaves your shoulders.

"She knows?" your whisper is more to yourself than anything else, but Joel still answers.

"Yeah. And also — that was Tess, tonight. With me at the birthday party."

He closed it at that because the rest was implied — you heard of Tess, many, many times.

When you and Joel spoke before Summer and the few times you two spent hours on the phone after long periods of silence in between, Joel told you about his friends. He told you about his work colleagues, about old college memories, about anything you asked.

He waited for you.

Patiently, as you took in the fact that your only worry didn't exist, Joel stood there a few feet across from you with his hands in his pockets, waiting.

And then, "I get if that wasn't the only reason why you said we should keep it between us. But—"

"It was." You were just... flying. Free. You breathed out, weighing a thousand pounds less. So you could have him? "Joel?"

He takes a step forward. "Yeah?"

There's little to be said when both of you move like orbits.

Your arms already know the way around his shoulders. Joel's familiar with the inches of your waist, and more than anything, you missed this, missed him.

His clever hands wrap carefully around your waist, and you abandoned every ounce of worry that this might be a dream.

"What are you smilin' at?" he asks.

Joel asks you that as he molds your bodies into one—the man is nothing but broad shoulders and back, thick arms that act like tentacles on your body that melts into his touch from the get-go.

"I had a lot of dreams like this," you confess. It feels incredible to just say what pops into your mind.

"Well, then let me remind you that real life's better," he mutters, hands already cupping your neck and cheeks.

Joel is the type fo kiss with his whole body.

You have no idea how both of you deluded yourselves into thinking any sort of deal could prevail when you two are made of this:

His hands roaming your throat, squeezing as you cling your legs around his waist and Joel takes the full weight of you on him. The back of his knees hitting the bed, his body and yours falling into a mess and tangle of limbs.

No deal was bigger than the desire you had of jumping his bones whenever he was at close proximity.

You wanted to devour him — you sucked on the fingers he offered with the same gusto your hips rolled against his lap; Joel moaned for you, and he trembled for you, and he smiled for you.

"'m gonna take my time with you — you know I like to take my time, stop grindin' that pretty pussy all up on me," he growls, and you mewl.

Joel is relentless with his touches.

Every time he took you, it felt like a possession.

Like he was carving your body out of marble to keep the curves set in stone — his palms ran through every inch of you until all your clothes were gone somewhere in the room, and he laughed at himself every time you cried out his name in a loud plea for more.

"Please — please just gimme something," you begged.

Joel smiles at you, dropping his pants to the floor. The entire lower half of his face is shining with the slick and sweat from you — keeping his head buried between your legs, your thighs stradling his shoulders and squeezing around his ears — he always started the nights like that.

"I was givin' you somethin'," he replies. Voice low and thick as honey. Just as sweet, too.

He crawls over the bed, naked, and you have to stop yourself from jumping on him until he's on his back. It'd be worse for you afterwards — you learned it the hard way. Joel would milk every orgasm out of you until you blacked out if you kept him from touching your body to his liking before you could do anything, and who were you to complain?

"Need more, Joel," you cried.

"More what?" He palms your calves, and starts smoothing his hands upwards. "Ask for it, baby."

"Whatever you want to give me, just — please."

"Ah. She learned," he chuckles, and kisses the inside of your thighs. They tremble at the feeling of his beard, and he nuzzles his face there for good measure. "I usually wanna see you ridin' my face 'till you're screaming for the heavens, but —" Joel climbs all the way up, cages your face between his forearms and lets his body lay on top of yours slowly. He doesn't give you his whole weight, but part of you wished he did. "I really just wanna be inside you right now."

"Please!"

"We'll have all night, I just—"

He stopped there, but you got where he came from.

It was different.

Knowing you would wake up and he'd still be there — it was different.

Taking him in when you knew he had more to offer and that's what he wanted to give — it made every inch Joel pushed inside feel more real.

He held both of your hands over your head, intertwining his fingers in yours. He went slow, and kept his eyes on you, and you felt less silly about the hours you cried before because you thought he wasn't yours. Because you wanted him to be.

He must sense you getting lost in the what ifs because Joel's talk changes somewhere in the middle.

His praises, always the tether grounding you to Earth while he fucks your mind straight out of it, changes in words and tone. He whispers, "I'm here, baby," in your ear, and it makes your legs hug his waist tighter. Push him inside even deeper. "Fuck — like that. Does it feel good? Is this what you wanted?"

You wanted him. "Yes — want you so bad," you wanted all of him. "All of you, Joel."

That granted you a hand of his letting go of yours only to make a fist on your hair.

It was rare for Joel to lose control, but you loved it when it happened. When he let go of everything and you could see him without anything on — no pretenses, no clothes, no reservations.

Joel started to mumble in your ear about anything, his hips losing rhythm inside of you as he made you ride out your orgasm. He talked about how good you are, how much he'd spoil you, make you his, his his —

You were. You were.

💖 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @dilfsaremyfavorite — @rosymythologies — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111

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bairdthereader · 1 month

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Nick gets a lot of (well-deserved) credit for being an amazing boyfriend to Charlie, and we know by now that he's a great friend, too. But what's almost more interesting to me is the underlying core personality trait that enables him to be both of those things--his emotional intuition and intelligence.

You see this in the comics mostly through Nick's facial expressions (no one can look worried like Nick Nelson can), but the show takes it a bit further. He's incredibly in tune with Charlie almost from the get-go. Nick watches him for small emotional cues and recognizes what they could mean, most notably before the confrontation with Ben after rugby practice. He reads between the lines of Charlie's deflections and falsely cheerful texts and pushes (with trademark Nick Nelson sensitivity) for the truth. He notices when Charlie is beset with intrusive thoughts, even if he doesn't know (at least early on) what they're about, and proceeds to interrupt those thoughts. He can read Charlie so well not only because he pays attention, real attention, but because he already has the emotional intuition required to interpret Charlie's inner complexities.

There are many moments throughout the show where we see Nick display this keen insight with everyone in his life, not just Charlie. When Elle, who he barely knows at this point, is upset about being set up with Tao, he immediately seeks to alleviate her distress by offering a true explanation of why she and Tao were invited in the first place--to be part of a triple date. He wants Elle to know that it was important to him (and Charlie, Tara, and Darcy) that she and Tao be there not just to try to set them up, but because they wanted to include them in an important step for both couples (Nick and Charlie just beginning to share their relationship, and Tara and Darcy trying to find acceptance after coming out as a couple). Nick knows that Elle values truth and honesty, and he gives her that so she can feel comfortable with her friends again.

Nick is also incredibly understanding of Tao, who, it has to be said, barely even understands himself for much of the show. There are a lot of scenes where Nick is trying to connect with Tao but maybe oversteps just a tad because he sees more of Tao than Tao is ready to have seen. The moment outside Charlie's house when Tao tells Nick about Elle's art college ambitions, Nick cuts through to the heart of the matter--Tao's concern about missing Elle if she's far away. Nick is the first person in the friend group to connect the dots about what Elle's college acceptance might mean for Tao, and immediately tries to help Tao process those feelings. He's met with anger, but only because he managed to hit a lightning bolt of a nerve in Tao's emotional storm.

And of course there's Imogen, who Nick has known for a long time but begins to understand and appreciate on a deeper level as their relationship moves from superficial connection to true friendship. He sees how sensitive she is, how lonely in some ways, and is always looking out for her, keeping a concerned eye on her. He gives her the space she requests, but also comfort when she lets her walls down enough to ask for it. His innate understanding of what people need--especially when what they need is just someone to be there--is impeccable.

It almost goes without saying, but Nick's emotional wavelength with his mom is similarly strong and nuanced. When Nick comes out to Sarah, he makes sure she understands how important it is to him that she knows--not only that she knows that he's bi, or that Charlie is his boyfriend, but that she knows him. That their relationship is so important to him that he can overcome his fears to share this most vital part of himself. Nick's value of Sarah extends to caring for her when she's dealing with the stress of having his dad and David around. Of course, Nick is still a teenager and there are a lot of scenes that show Sarah's deft handling of Nick's emotions, but it's a two-way street. Nick takes care of her in his own way too.

Nick starts his relationship with Tara and Darcy leaning on them for advice and guidance, but by the end of the show they're leaning on him. Nick sees their struggles, especially Tara's, possibly more clearly than anyone else does because he recognizes some similarities between their situation and his with Charlie. When they're in trouble, he knows Tara needs care and honest advice, even if it's not the most comforting advice. He knows that what they both need is strength and security and tries, in his careful way, to give them those things.

Nick Nelson, always looking out for everyone he loves, keeping them safe as much as he can, hugging them when he can't.

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tkwrites · 11 days

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Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself) - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Summary: Still upset about finding out about Sarah from Brady, Jack has some hesitations when he and Luke come to town for the Finals. Can he get over himself enough to see what Quinn and Sarah have is real?

Warnings: Angst, sibling fighting, light body shaming

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for almost three months and tossing around ideas for it since December. On Thursday, something clicked into place, and the story just fell together. I really like the way it turned out, and I hope you like it too!

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.

I love Quinn and Sarah, and I’m constantly blown away that so many of you love them, too.

Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself)

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah was sitting in the living room, trying not to freak out. Their night before had been one to remember, and her hips were still sore and achy from it in the most satisfying way.

But even remembering Quinn giving her so many orgasms she lost count — murmuring how proud he was of her with each and every one of them — couldn’t take away from the fact that his brothers were about to arrive.

Sarah and her siblings were close, but Quinn and his brothers were closer. They were all in the same phase of life - all playing professional hockey, all unmarried, and all figuring things out. Even Luke, who she knew, had been dating his girlfriend Kylee for two and a half years wasn’t in a place to get married, especially not while Kylee was still in school.

It was so different from her own siblings, who were both in the young family stage of life while she was still figuring out no-longer-single life and dating-a-professional-athlete life.

She loved her siblings, but they had less in common than they used to.

It felt like a huge test to be accepted by his family — his best friends. She wasn’t totally sure what she’d do if they didn’t like her.

When she’d brought that up to Quinn after they’d finally collapsed into bed, he had pulled her close, kissed her forehead, and assured her, “they’re going to love you. I love you, so they’re going to love you.”

She hadn’t pointed out how flawed his logic was.

Quinn appeared at her side, holding a shot of rum, “here, I think you might need this.”

“I thought you said I don’t have anything to be worried about!”

“I don’t think you do.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “but you think I should take a shot?”

He gulped nervously, “Jack can just be kind of a lot. I’m not sure he’s totally over the whole, I didn’t tell him first thing.”

Her eyes went wide, and while Quinn had the best of intentions, he realized what a stupid move this was. Instead of calming her down, he was making her more anxious. He tried to backtrack, “you don’t have to. It was a stupid idea,” he said before starting back to the bar — intent on dumping the alcohol down the drain.

“No, come back.”

He turned, and she reached for the small glass, “it will take the edge off.”

Taking a deep breath, she tossed the liquor into her mouth. As soon as she’d swallowed, she pulled a face, “ugh, I hate shots. Remind me to never do that again.”

Laughing, he lifted the glass out of her hands and leaned down to kiss her. They stayed that way for a while, each of them remembering slices of the night before.

His phone trilled. He would have picked them all up from the airport, but Jack had insisted on renting a car for them to use while they were here, so there was no need.

The dinner they’d ordered was on it’s way, and everything was going to be fine.

Having finished her finals the day before, Sarah had spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping in Quinn’s bed. He’d left for practice, then crawled back in bed with her when he got home, happy to fall asleep again, holding her close.

As a result, he looked refreshed and clear headed.

“You ready?” he asked when the elevator dinged.

She nodded, standing and wrapping her arms around his torso.

She was wearing the same jeans she’d worn when she met the team and a cream colored top, partially unbuttoned, so he could see just a hint of her cleavage.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured.

The very fact that he kept saying it made Sarah wonder if he was trying to convince himself into believing it.

She should have worn the green dress. When she’d been packing to stay at Quinn’s overnight, she’d convinced herself the boyfriend jeans were lucky enough now, and she didn’t need to pull out the big guns. Plus, she didn’t want Quinn to think she only had one outfit she wore when she was nervous. Now, that didn’t seem like it mattered much, and she wished she had the comforting assurance of it with her.

When Quinn opened the door and his brothers came tumbling into the apartment, Sarah immediately understood what her own brother had missed out on by only having two sisters.

They were so distinctly…male. There was a lot of congratulatory hair mussing and punching going on in celebration of Quinn making the finals.

Ellen was dutifully waiting for them to be done so she could hug her eldest.

To Sarah’s surprise, Jim was the first one to greet her, offering a hug she gladly accepted.

When they broke apart, Quinn moved to introduce everyone, “Sarah,” he said, and everyone’s eyes snapped to him, “these are my brothers Jack and Luke. Guys, this is Sarah.”

Luke gave her a shy smile and offered her a hand to shake. Jack didn’t move other than to give her a curt nod.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, pulling a smile onto her face she hoped masked her disappointment at his clipped response.

Ellen rolled her eyes and crossed the room to give her a hug.

The front desk buzzed up to let them know their food was delivered, and Sarah offered to go collect it just to get away from the tense meeting.

When they sat down to eat, Sarah was able to engage Luke in conversation, and they started talking about his girlfriend Kylee, who would be coming out once she had finished her finals. Once the ice was broken, Luke was easy to talk to, and they swapped stories about work and growing up.

More than once in their conversation, Sarah caught Ellen shooting disappointed looks at her middle son, who couldn’t seem to stop staring at her, but didn’t say a word.

The conversation lulled, and Jack spoke for the first time, “so, Sarah, what are you going to do when you’re done with school?” His tone was almost accusatory, like he expected her to say she would be moving to Dubai and leaving Quinn behind.

“I’m not really sure yet. I like working at the aquarium, so I wouldn’t mind staying there. But if I could get a job in conservation, that would be ideal. I feel more passionate about it.”

“What would you do in conservation?” he asked. It sounded a little like they were rehearsed questions on Jacks part, as if he were trying to appease someone by making conversation but didn’t actually care much about the subject.

“Well, there’s a lot that crosses over in terms of what can be done in the wild to make our oceans more habitable to everything that lives in them. And if we need to do any rescue and rehab, I can help care for most of those animals.”

“So you’re like a vet?”

“No, I can’t administer any medical treatment, but I can assist. I thought about going into veterinary medicine, but it would have meant seven more years of school, and there’s a lot of aspects of being a vet that terrify me.”

“Like what?” he asked with an arched eyebrow, as if her admitting she had weaknesses was completely unexpected.

Sarah flicked a glance at Quinn, who was looking at his brother with narrowed eyes, as if trying to figure out what he was getting at.

“Well, I’m not great with blood, for one. Plus, the smell of hospitals tends to give me panic attacks.”

Somehow, this admission made Jack relax. She was human, after all. When they met June, she was all smiles and rainbows and didn’t admit to having faults of any kind. Quinn talked about how genuine Sarah was, but Jack wanted to see it for himself.

Quinns eyes darted to her, and she gave him a small smile.

“What is it about hospitals?” Jim asked.

She took a deep breath and reached for Quinn’s hand under the table. Their fingers entwined, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“My mom died of cancer, so she spent a good portion of the last six months of her life in a hospital, and every time I came home, I would have to see her there. The smell always transports me straight back.”

Quinn didn’t hesitate to put his arm around her, and she leaned into his shoulder, blinking a few times.

Jack looked between them and felt something twist in his gut. This was so much more serious than he wanted to believe. He’d seen the signs from Quinn — the dreamy look he often got when he talked about her, and how it seemed like they were together all the time, or the way he talked about the future, like he couldn’t envision one without her in it.

The two sides of his mind warred. On one hand, he was glad Quinn found her, but on the other, he was still pissed he was the last one to know. He and Quinn were supposed to be best friends as well as brothers. He’d never keep something like that from Quinn, and it hurt every time he remembered Brady asking, “so what do you think of Sarah?”

Then, there was the whole issue of Sarah herself. Not that she was bad looking. She was pretty. But June was gorgeous, and Jack couldn’t help but think that Sarah was a bit of a step down.

The meal ended on less tense terms than it started on, and Quinn took Sarah home.

“Was it okay?” he asked.

She knotted her fingers together in her lap, “I don’t know. Was it? You know Jack better than I do.”

One of his hands dragged over his face before he reached for hers.

Gratefully, she took it, glad for the reassurance of his touch.

He felt off kilter. The end was such a stark contrast to the beginning that he had a hard time reconciling that morning as part of the same day.

“Can you come up for a minute?” she asked when he pulled in front of her building.

He glanced over with raised eyebrows only to find nervousness clearly written on her face. “Yeah, of course,” he said and flipped around to find a spot to park.

They got up to her apartment, which she knew would be empty - Eunice had gone home to stay with her parents for a week, and Jane was working. As soon as the door shut behind them, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest.

“What’s up?” Quinn asked, his hands heavy and comforting on the small of her back.

“I just —” Sarah could feel the tears she’d pushed off for the drive home forcing their way up to the surface.

She sniffed, and Quinn pulled back, “what’s wrong?”

Sarah wiped her cheeks. “What if —” She didn’t want to say it out loud, but she needed to. Talking about it would make it better. She knew that, but it was still scary as hell to voice the anxiety that was eating away at her peace of mind. Not only was the summer going to fucking suck, “I think Jack hates me.”

Something behind his sternum fractured, “Jack doesn’t hate you.”

Looking up to meet his eyes, she asked, “really? Because it doesn’t seem like he likes me very much.”

“I think he just needs time to adjust to the situation. He’s still mad at me that I didn’t tell them first.”

“I don’t understand that either. My sister was the second person I told.” Technically, she’d been the 4th with her roommates, but no need to split hairs. Rachel was the second person she’d told on purpose.

He pulled a calming breath into his chest. “I think Brady mentioned June to you?” She nodded, and he continued, “June was…” how did he even find the right words? “We dated for a long time. Way longer than we should have. We weren’t good together. I mean, you know all that weird shit she had about sex, and she would break up with me every few months, then come back after a few days, begging to get back together.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It wasn’t great,” he admitted ruefully. “Anyway, my family never really came out and said they didn’t like her. They only said it after I called it off for good. I remember Jack told me, ‘Thank god, I never liked that bitch.’”

Sarah wrinkled her nose, and Quinn laughed, “yeah. Brady was the only one who told it to me straight from the beginning. He was pretty frank with me; his family doesn’t really beat around the bush about anything. He encouraged me to break it off for good. Anyway, when we met,” he gestured between them, “I was kind of hesitant to tell anyone. Not because I thought you were like June. You’re not. In any way. But I didn’t… I didn’t really trust my own judgment, you know?”

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. That was something they could unpack later.

“I wanted Brady to meet you first since he and Emma had been so honest.”

This, she knew from conversations with Ellen and Brady himself, but it was nice to hear it from Quinn.

“Before I had a chance to tell him, Brady asked Jack what he thought of you while they were playing in Ottawa, and he called me, pretty pissed. I think he’s still caught on that.”

Pursing her lips, she wasn’t totally sure what the protocol for this was. “Is there anything I can do to fix it? I don’t want —” she broke off, feeling she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want Jack to come between them. She didn’t want to have to forge a new relationship when Quinn’s brother and best friend didn’t like her, and she didn’t want to put Quinn in a position where he would have to choose.

That fracturing feeling was back.

“That’s not going to happen,” Quinn said, picking up on what he thought the subtext of the conversation was as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “I think he just needs time. Jack doesn’t really hate anyone. It’s not in his nature.”

“Was he like this with Kylee?”

“No, but Luke and Kylee were friends in high school and college, so we knew her before they started dating.”

She thunked her forehead onto his chest and took a deep breath.

One of his hands ran over her hair, “I’m sorry. I know this put you in a really weird position.”

She felt his words in his chest at the same time she heard them and swallowed the feeling whole.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” she said, nuzzling into his shirt

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. Definitive. Simple. Straight to the point.

She knew she sounded whiney, but she needed to say it, “but what happens if he never likes me? I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose.”

“Jack’ll come around. He’s never been able to hold grudges for very long.”

Looking up at him, then, hope filled her face, and he kissed her, hoping it reassured her. He was sure Jack would come around as soon as he could get his head out of his ass.

“I’m sorry, but I need to get back,” he said as gently as he could. Not only was there a game tomorrow, he knew his brothers would want to talk.

Swallowing down the loneliness of being in the apartment by herself for the night, she nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

‘Tomorrow,” he repeated before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too. One more?”

He couldn't resist.

One turned into six or seven, and he pulled away feeling light. “Jack’ll come around,” he assured again before kissing her once more and turning to go.

“I mean, she’s pretty and all,” Jack was saying as they stood in the living room. Their parents had gone to bed, so it was best to have this conversation on the floor below. “But don’t you think she’s a little big?”

Luke stared at Jack while Quinn glared at him. “What?”

“Don’t get me wrong, she has a pretty face, but her thighs are kind of huge.”

Luke spoke before Quinn could follow through with punching his brother in the face. “Is this because you actually think that, or because you’re mad Quinn didn’t trust you enough to tell you first?”

“Trust us,” Jack corrected through a jaw clenched so tight, it answered Lukes question for him.

“Fine. Whatever,” Luke said. He’d come to terms with it. He had been too scared to tell Quinn what he thought of June. After thinking it over, it did make sense for him to go to the only person in his life who made their concerns clear and keep Sarah from everyone else. They got attached to June, or at least to the idea of her. Luke had never really liked her. But he liked the idea of Quinn having a girlfriend. Of him having someone here in Van while the rest of them were all out east.

Now that he had met Sarah in person, not just talked on the phone with her - which Jack had made feel more like a job interview than a welcoming, get to know you chat - he understood just how bad of a match June had been for Quinn.

Gone were the tense morning phone calls after a blowout fight. Gone were the sick-in-love nights where Quinn was hanging up early before really talking to either of them so he could spend time with June while the getting was good. Gone were the confused, “I don’t know what she wants from me,” talks that happened way too often for Luke's liking.

Not only was Sarah more stable, Luke felt like Quinn was more stable with her.

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Jack said, clinging to his pride. “You’re an athlete, Q. Do you really think she can keep up with the lifestyle?”

“It’s not like she needs to go to the gym with me every day,” Quinn shot back.

“The girls you’ve dated before have been…”

“Listen, Jack. Yes, Sarah might be a little bigger than the girls I’ve dated before, but she’s more than all of them.”

“I’ll say she’s more,” Jack snided.

Luke stepped in, “don’t be such a dick.”

“It’s true.”

“She’s better,” Quinn corrected, and his voice went hard. “She’s better than any of those girls. More driven and more supportive and more understanding and loving than anyone I’ve ever dated.”

That stopped Jack in his tracks. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say.

This. This was the thing he was most scared of.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack knew Quinn or Luke would eventually get married, and their unit would be changed forever. They wouldn’t be The Hughes Boys anymore. Not like they had been. They would be different. Sarah was coming in and stealing his brother from him.

“And just for the record,” Quinn said, getting in Jack’s face with a fierceness Luke rarely saw directed at either of them when talking about something so serious, “I don’t think Sarah’s fat, and I don’t think you do either. You never called Madeline fat, and she’s bigger than Sarah.”

Madeline was a plus-size model Jack had quietly dated and broken up with the year before.

Luke wondered, not for the first time, how much of their breakup was caused by Jack’s need to be perceived a certain way. Madeline was stunningly beautiful, but there were comments swirling all the time about how much bigger she was than him, and how could he possibly want to date someone so large, despite the fact that she was incredibly successful and was one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. Not to mention that she kept to a diet that would put all of them to shame.

Caught, Jack snapped his mouth shut and glared.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay?” Quinn practically begged. “I should have, and I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean you need to take it out on her.”

Luke was struck at how much his oldest brother was trying to protect his girlfriend. Jack could say what he wanted about him, but when it came to Sarah, he was trying to put blame back where it belonged.

Quinn sunk into the club chair closest to him, raking his hands into his hair.

“Can you just TRY to get to know her?” he asked. “I think you’ll really like her if you get to know her.”

Jack huffed a breath through his nose and nodded once. Once again, he was struck with a sudden sense of vertigo, like everything around him was shifting and changing, pulled just off kilter.

He wasn’t blind, as much as he wanted to be. He knew Quinn, and the very fact he was directing the blame back on himself again and again told Jack all he needed to know about how he felt about Sarah. Even though he didn’t know her very well and resented the swift way she’d blown into Quinns life, Jack could see she would be around for a long time.

A few days later, as they sat around the table to eat breakfast, Ellen met Quinn's eyes, a warm smile lighting her face. “She's good. I really like her.”

Quinn knew his mom liked Sarah from when she first met his parents several weeks before.

Still, hearing her say this after seeing her interact with the rest of the family meant more. Some of the lingering anxiety he felt blew away. Jack still didn't love her, but he was softening up. Quinn wasn't sure anyone would ever live up to Jack's ideal standard. Luke loved everyone and liked to talk to her about the ocean. Plus, it seemed like she’d get along great with Kylee.

His dad nodded in agreement, “don't fuck it up.”

That spoke louder to Quinn than anything else he could have said. “I don't plan to.”

“Make sure you don't. She's good for you. Good for the family, too.”

“Too good for him,” Luke added quietly.

“That goes without saying. Most women will be for all of you.”

Jack scoffed.

“Is she coming to Hawaii?” his mom asked.

“What?” Jack exclaimed. “She can't come to Hawaii! That's our trip.”

Ellen looked at her middle son patiently, waiting for his instinctive reaction to calm down so he could think clearly.

“I asked her,” Quinn said, “but -”

Jack broke in, his hot head getting the best of him,“you talked about this without me?”

“Relax Jack,” Luke said.

“But she told me no,” Quinn finished.

“She told you no? She told me all sorts of things we should do from when she lived there. I was really hoping she could show us around,” Ellen admitted.

“I know,” Quinn said. “She said she didn't want to tread on family time.”

“She's going to be a part of this family, isn't she?” Ellen asked.

Jack glared at her, “mom, it hasn't even been six months.”

“Five months can tell you a lot, Jack. Can't you see how much your brother loves her? And how much she loves him?”

Jack had to admit she was right. Quinn was more settled - no, that wasn't it. He had always been settled. He was more…at ease. A better, less worried version of himself. It was like Sarah had come in and soothed all this anxiety and all these fears that had been bubbling beneath Quinn’s skin. Only when they were gone did Jack notice.

And Sarah was…sweet. She was considerate and kind and tried her best to engage him in conversation.

“Sar told me she would only come if everyone said it was okay, especially you, Jack.”

Jack looked at his brother, totally taken aback. Something in him shifted. “Really?”

Quinn nodded. “She doesn't want to tread on our time. She knows we don't get much time together anyway.”

Jack had been feeling like she'd just come barging into their family, taking his brother away from him. He'd heard Quinn talk about her, but seeing it in real life - seeing how much time they spent together, how they had their own little language, and always seemed to be touching each other - he wasn't ready to lose his brother like that.

But this shifted things a bit. It was one thing to visit the lake house or even tag along to a big family vacation, but the trip to Hawaii was more than that. It was going to be just them. Even Kylee wasn't coming. He was pretty sure it was because she had a family reunion of her own she couldn't skip out on, but the sentiment still counted.

“I'll think about it,” Jack agreed begrudgingly.

The morning after the Canucks were eliminated, Sarah wandered down to the kitchen wearing one of Quinn’s Michigan shirts and a pair of his boxers, still slightly twisted slightly from sleep.

“Oh,” she greeted hesitantly upon seeing him at the bar, “morning, Jack.”

Watching her and Quinn interact last night had cracked something in him. Not only that Sarah was here to stay, but it awoke a kind of longing to have someone totally accept him.

It was made even worse when he wandered up to the gaming room, figuring he could at least watch some TV if he couldn’t get any sleep, and heard noise from Quinn’s bedroom that let him know they were going at it. He didn’t ever want to think about his brother having sex, but the fact that Quinn had so many different levels of comfort available - all seemingly tailored to meet his exact needs - after a hard day woke a deep longing for that kind of intimacy in Jack. He hadn’t allowed himself to want it, at least since he and Madeline broke up.

He gave up on the gaming room and slept on the uncomfortable living room sofa. Now his shoulder was sore, and his hips hurt, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep.

“Morning,” he mumbled, hating that she felt like she needed to tip toe around him. He knew it was his own fault, but now he was in so deep that he wasn’t sure how to get out of it. The conversation about Hawaii, realizing she was thinking about their family as well as her relationship with Quinn along with what happened the night before, had him feeling ready to make peace with her. Except that would just be him admitting he was wrong, which seemed so much easier than it felt.

She put a pod in the coffee maker, more at home in Quinns house than he was. That was a new feeling. Jack had searched for the coffee pods that morning, and when he couldn’t find one, settled for milk. Now, he wondered why Quinn kept them in the drawer beneath the coffee maker when it would have made more sense to keep them in the cupboard above.

“How did you sleep?” she asked, leaning her butt on the counter while the machine gurgled.

He shrugged, “Luke snored all night.”

Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“We haven’t had to share a room when he’s not exhausted from hockey in a long time.”

She nodded, pulling creamer out of the fridge.

He watched her walk back to her mug, noting the way her thighs trembled with each step. He loved that about Madeline. The softness of her. She was stunning, but not hard. Before he’d met her, he didn’t know those things could coexist.

“How did you sleep?”

“Good,” she said, “Quinn was so exhausted, I don’t think he turned over once.”

“Isn’t he the worst?” Jack said with a loud, laughing groan. “Flailing all over the bed.”

Sarah snorted when he nearly fell backward off the stool in his demonstration of flailing limbs. “Has he always done that?”

“Since we were kids. He must be a nightmare to share a bed with.”

“Thankfully, I don’t think I’ve experienced any flailing. He must be a little less writhe-y now, but if we’re not cuddling, he does usually toss and turn all night.”

“Good,” he said, and then immediately felt stupid. What was she supposed to say to that now?

“Where are your parents?” she asked instead, bringing the mug to her lips to blow on the hot liquid.

“They went to get breakfast or something,” he said with a vague gesture over his shoulder. “They invited me, but I went back to sleep.”

“Have you eaten? I was about to cook some eggs.”

“Is Quinn up?” he asked.

“He was still conked out when I got up. I figured I’d let him sleep. No use in waking him when he’s finally getting some solid rest.”

There it was again - that pinch of jealousy. She knew him in ways Jack didn’t, like her knowledge that cuddling kept Quinn still at night, and she obviously liked to care for him.

It’s not like he didn’t want her in his brothers life. She obviously made Quinn happy, and all Jack really wanted was for him to be happy.

It was a weird, night and day difference between Quinn now and Quinn at the beginning of the season. When they’d left Michigan in September, it wasn’t like Quinn had been depressed - he’d been excited to get back to hockey - but he’d spent so much of the off season wondering if he and June were actually a good match that when he left, it felt like he was leaving without having anything truly resolved. When they’d finally broken up in November, a huge sigh of relief had swept through Quinn’s whole life.

Looking back now, Jack should have known something was up when Quinn started calling them, relaxed and cheerful, quick with a smile and a joke in a way he hadn’t been since he and June had broken up. Now, he was happy and content, and Jack could practically see the love he had for Sarah glowing on his skin.

After spending time with her, he understood how Quinn had fallen so hard, so fast. She was kind but willing to put in the work, genuine and honest, but funny and snarky.

Might as well just get it over with.

“Listen, Sarah,” he began, looking down at his glass of milk, “I’m sorry.”

She continued to look at him over her mug. It struck him that she waited for him to finish without jumping in or jumping to conclusions.

“You’re really good for Quinn,” he admitted.

Something in her heart fluttered.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a dick. With June it was pretty obvious they weren’t going to last so I never put much stock in her, but I…” he chewed briefly on this thumbnail, thinking, “but I can see how you guys are good together.”

A smile reached her eyes.

He blew out a deep breath. “It’s just…Quinn’s my brother, you know?” Shaking his head, he raked a hand into his hair, “I’m sorry, I'm not making any sense.”

“It’s okay, Jack,” she said, her voice calm. He wondered if she ever raised it. “I’ve been through this, too, when my sister started dating someone seriously. It’s weird and hard when someone new comes into your family.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m taking Quinn away from you or something.”

“You couldn’t,” he said, then realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t. I can see that now.”

Smiling in a way he realized was totally genuine, she set her mug on the counter. “Thank you, Jack. That means a lot coming from you.”

It was like she knew all he needed was time. There were no hard feelings, no grudges or fits. No glares from across the room. She just waited and gave him time, and wasn’t mad at how much he needed.

And now that he’d admitted it, she let it lie, changing the subject as soon as it’d been put to rest. “So, do you want some eggs?” she asked, turning back to the fridge.

It was a refreshing turn of events.

“Sure,” he stood from the bar stool, “how can I help?”

By the time Quinn wandered down the stairs, clumsy with sleep and rubbing his eyes, they had omelets going.

Looking nervously between Jack and Sarah, side by side in the kitchen, he briefly wondered if he was still dreaming. One night, and it seemed all of Jack’s hesitations had been put to bed.

“Morning,” he yawned.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, smiling bright, “hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he said through another yawn as he walked up to them. He slipped an arm around Sarah’s waist and rested the other on Jacks shoulder, “you two made up?”

“I don’t think we were fighting, really,” Sarah said, “but we came to an understanding.”

Jack smiled gratefully, and Quinn leaned in to kiss her cheek.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes oneshot #qh43 #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey romance #hockey fanfiction #jack hughes #luke hughes #hughes brothers

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tangledupinyellow · 6 months

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Conference | Joel Miller X Teacher F!Reader

authors note: Ah!!! I took an unintentional hiatus, it's been so chaotic in my life lately which doesn't need any details. But I am so so so happy to get back to writing and posting my little dumps here, especially now that life's calmed down I can get some more out for the new year!

summary: You are Sarah’s sixth grade teacher and you see Joel show up for the teacher parent conference. It’s your last meeting of the day and of course Joel being Joel, he’s late due to work and he came there in a rush and is still in his dirty little work clothes, which doesn’t leave a good impression on you.

warnings/tags: 18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak au, very slight praise kink, parent/teacher relationship, fingering, desk fucking, nicknames (good girl, darling, baby girl), unprotected piv, spanking, slight breeding kink, creampie

word count: 4.4k

In annoyance, you look over at the clock once again. It feels like the fifth time you’ve done that in the past five minutes. You rubbed your eyes with a groan and lined up the papers on your desk yet again as if you hadn’t already done that ten times before while you’d been waiting.

You tapped your fingers on your desk, trying your best to stay patient. You had decided that you would stay here for another ten minutes or so, making it twenty minutes of waiting in total, before you would call it a night and head back home.

It was the end of the second-semester conference, and you had spent your evenings sitting down with the parents of your students to discuss any concerns you may have about their child. And with this next conference you had coming up, you had more concerns about the parent than the child itself. You had more complaints about them, as well. And being incredibly late was one of them.

Being even five minutes late would have been something you would let slide, but for something that has gone on for nearly twenty minutes, you weren’t sure if waiting would be worth it anymore. You could just give him a call that you would assume would bring you straight to voicemail, and you’ll give the one-sided conference there.

What made you even more irritated was the fact that these meetings never took more than ten minutes, and you couldn’t understand why a parent couldn’t take a measly ten minutes out of their day to check up on how their student is doing while they’re at school.

But after checking who you were supposed to meet with at this very moment, you couldn’t help but be surprised.

Joel Miller was supposed to be here nearly an hour to talk about his daughter Sarah, one of your favorite students. You knew you weren’t technically supposed to have a favorite student, but you made an exception for Sarah. She was very wise beyond her years and quick-witted, almost like a mini adult. You couldn’t help but have a bit of a sweet spot for the kid.

You would have thought that with a kid like that, a parent would look forward to meeting with their teacher just to hear about how wonderful their child has been doing. But apparently, with Joel Miller, it was a different story.

You gave yourself an extra five minutes before you would just pack up your things and leave. You didn’t have time for this, and you already gave this man more than enough of your time this evening.

Your eyes shot over to your classroom door when you heard a knock followed by a man walking in and closing the door behind him.

“I wanna start off by apologizin’,” He began immediately and walked over to the empty chair on the opposite side of your desk that you had reserved for the parents, “Had’ta work a bit of overtime, but I came as fast as I could. Don’t wanna know how many stop lights I ran on my way to get here.” He chuckled and shook his head before taking a seat across from you.

“It’s nice to see you made it, Joel.” You greeted him before pulling out Sarah’s files from your desk to go over with him.

You could tell he had just gotten off work and clearly didn’t get the chance to stop at home first to freshen up or get changed. There were still dirt stains on his denim jeans, and his hair was a tousled mess. But then again, this was how you were used to seeing Joel. Out of all the years you’ve been teaching his daughter Sarah, you’ve rarely seen him dress up more than a flannel and a pair of jeans.

You’ve only seen him dress up three times for as long as you knew him when the two of you went on a few casual dates. That was before you started teaching his daughter. While you had a genuinely good time with Joel those three times you went out, you didn’t know if you could continue seeing him after finding out that you would be teaching his daughter. Even though you did like him and wanted to continue the small relationship that the two of you had blossomed, you felt it would be too awkward with the whole ‘you being his daughter’s teacher’ thing.

So, you had to cut it off with him and keep the relationship between the two of you strictly professional.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Joel grinned and got comfortable in his seat, scooting it closer to the desk while you set Sarah’s files down.

“Almost left. I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up or not.” You laughed quietly with a shake of your head and opened up the folder filled with Sarah’s worksheets and essays she had completed the previous semester.

“Again, I wouldn’t miss it,” Joel repeated, “I’ll take any chance to get to be able to see ya again, even if it’s just you telling me how Sarah’s been incredible these past few months.” He chuckled, a hint of flirting in his voice that you tried to brush off.

It wasn’t unusual for him to flirt with you, for you were the one who cut things off even when he didn’t want to. There were still some feelings there that he had for you, and he hated that he couldn’t express them. He almost felt like a teenage boy. The fact that he couldn’t convey his feelings towards you made him want to do it even more, just to see if you’d crack one of these days.

You gave him a knowing look with a tilt of your head, almost acting like a playful warning, before pulling out one of Sarah’s most recent science essays to review with him.

“Well, I’m sure you wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Sarah’s at the top of my class this semester. She’s tested very high, and her writing skills are well above average for her grade level.” You give him a smile and nod before pointing out some of the highlights you found in her essay.

Joel listened with a permanent smile on his lips as he listened to you compliment his daughter, all things that he’d heard many times before from past teachers. He didn’t even know how Sarah was his daughter or how she was even related to him at that. He was never anywhere near as intelligent as she was when he was in school, and she was much brighter than he ever was. He was incredibly proud of her, as proud of a daughter as a father could be.

“You’re right. I ain’t all that surprised.” Joel said through a chuckle and a shake of his head.

You laughed along with him and tucked her essay back into her folder before setting it back down on top of your desk, “And I’m sure you’ve already heard this before, but Sarah really is a pleasure to have in my class. Helps keep me sane sometimes.” You joked, laughing a bit more with the man before you.

Even though you had to cut things off with Joel, you were glad that it didn’t make things awkward in meetings like this, which was something you worried about once you found out that you were going to be teaching his daughter. Thankfully for the both of you, you were able to get along just as well as you had when you first met.

“Every single one of these conference things I go to I hear the same ol’ thing,” Joel laughed and ran a hand through his messy and disheveled hair from a days worth of hard work, “Sometimes I don’t know how that girl is related t’me. Makes me proud every damn day though, that’s for sure.”

“I’m glad to hear that. She talks about you often.” You mentioned and organized her folder with all of your other students.

“She does?” Joel asked with a curious eyebrow raised.

“Mhm,” You hum, “She loves talking about you. You have a bigger impact on her life than you may think, Mr. Miller.” You smile at him and stand up from your chair, giving a silent end to the conference, for you didn’t have much else you had to tell him. You both knew his daughter was an excellent student and absolutely thrived in your class. There was nothing much else to discuss.

Joel couldn’t help but smile at your words, feeling his heart warm up in his chest as you spoke. He loved his daughter so much, but knowing that she even still liked him in her tween years was a big deal to him. It made him feel that even though he was a single father and that was as hard as all hell can be, he was succeeding at it. He watched you stand up and slowly followed your actions.

You cleared your throat and inhaled, grabbing your purse as you prepared to say your goodbyes. You didn’t want this conference to be awkward, but just being in the same room with him made you feel vulnerable, and you weren’t sure you could hide that very well from him.

“Well, Mr. Miller, it was very nice to see you again.” You nodded in his direction.

“You can call me Joel, y’know,” He chuckled with a shake of his head, “Just because we had to end things in the past doesn’t mean you need to be all formal.” The smile never left his face as he spoke, but you could feel your heart sink in his chest the moment he had brought it up.

You were hoping that the two of you would be able to move past it or not mention it at all during this little parent-teacher conference meeting. And right when you thought it was all going well and you said your goodbyes, he had to go right ahead and make it awkward for you.

“Right, my apologies, Joel,” You corrected yourself, the tense feeling in your chest still not disappearing, “I’ll see you around.”

Joel watched as you turned to leave towards the door but quickly stopped you before you could make another move, “Wait.”

There was that tense feeling in your chest all over again.

With yet another deep breath, you slowly turned to face him, “Do you have any questions for me, Mr- ..Joel? Any questions about Sarah, or..?” Your voice sounded weaker than you intended it to be.

“Well, there is something that I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya. Not about Sarah. I already know that she’s been doin’ just fine in this class.” He began.

“I’m only here to talk about Sarah and give you her progress report for the semester. I’m sorry.” You tried to cut him off before he got too deep into it. You had a gut feeling that you knew where he would be trying to get at if you didn’t stop him ahead of time. And you have already made yourself a personal vow that you would never mix your love life with your professional life. Even though Joel Miller made that so damn hard to do.

Joel furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at you in silence for a moment, almost as though you had said something wrong. And by this look he was giving you, you were kind of worried that you had. But that worry was quickly washed away once a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Darlin’, I’m more than just Sarah’s father. And you’re more than just Sarah’s teacher. I think we both know that now, don’t we?” A smirk crept up on the corner of his lips while his hand rested on top of yours.

“Mr. Miller, I don’t need you to be talking to me like I’m-”

He cut you off with your name. It shuts you up almost immediately.

“What I’m trying to get at here is that I miss you. I miss being with ya. Don’t think you can punish me for that, sweetheart.” Joel shook his head and gave your hand a squeeze before moving it back down to his side.

You took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts before speaking, “Joel, it was fun being with you, but I can’t-”

“Why not.” He interrupted yet again, knowing just what you were about to say.

“You know why. Because of Sarah.” You kept it short, for he already knew the reasoning behind your rejections.

“What about Sarah?” The man was persistent, “Sarah loves you. She adores you as a teacher and talks about you and this class all the damn time,” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he spoke, “Now tell me, why would it be so bad seeing me?” His eyes bore into yours.

“It’s unprofessional..” you tried to reason.

“Unprofessional, hm?” Joel repeated and gave you a small smile, “Alright then. If you really don’t want me anymore, I won’t push it. But it was really nice seein’ ya again, sweetheart.” He winked in your direction before heading over to the door.

“Wait.” You surprised even yourself by speaking up.

Joel hummed and looked back over at you, his hand on the doorknob while waiting for you to start talking.

Your breath was shaky as you tried to calm your nerves, looking between down at your lap and over at Joel, “Come.. come here, please.” You stuttered over your words and motioned your head over to the empty seat across from your own.

Joel gladly did as you said and filled that empty seat.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment, both of you anticipating to see who would speak up first. You never broke contact with his eyes, the hazel specks bringing you back to the few days and nights the two of you spent with one another. And you hated to admit it, but having him alone in a room like this made you want to rip off that dirty flannel right off and claim his lips with your own. Somehow, you had managed to keep it all under control. But the longer he stayed, the harder it was to resist that urge.

“Yes?” Joel responded simply before continuing, “Is there more of Sarah’s papers that you want to go over with me or…?” his voice trailed off with a slight raise of his eyebrow, seeming as though he already knew the answer but just wanted to play this little game with you.

And what got to you was that he was right. Both you and Joel knew that you didn’t call him back over just to go over a couple more of Sarah’s papers.

You weren’t sure how to respond. But thankfully, Joel took care of that for you just fine.

“That’s not it, is it?” Joel’s voice grew quieter as he stood up from the chair once he saw you shake your head slowly.

The tension in the room was growing so thick that you could cut it with a knife as he walked over to your chair, leaning over so his breath was just hitting the skin on the back of your ear, “You want something a little more, don’t ya..” he whispered, the hot breath on your ear causing shivers to go down your spine.

All you could do was nod as you involuntarily leaned your head back and fluttered your eyes shut. He still knew how to get such a reaction from you.

“Yeah, s’what I thought.” Joel grinned with a soft tone in his voice.

His hand slowly moved down to your shoulder, goosebumps arising underneath your blouse. You never thought you would miss the feeling of Joel Miller touching you on the shoulder so much. Especially when all he did was touch you on your covered shoulder.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this, Joel,” You tried to talk some sense into him, more trying to talk some sense into yourself. You knew that you wanted this. He knew that you wanted this, based on your reaction that you would give him with every little touch of his hand, “We shouldn’t…” you tried repeating, your voice cracking just slightly when his hand moved down from your shoulder to your right breast, giving it a firm squeeze. Your mind was working against itself, debating over right or wrong. But when his strong hands gripped you like that, as if you were all his, you couldn’t resist.

You couldn’t help the moan that left your lips as he fondled your breast, “Just tell me if you want me or not, sweetheart, simple as that.” he whispered in your ear. His breath on your sensitive skin was enough to get your heart rate going.

“Keep going.” You mustered out, taking a deep breath and watching your chest rise and fall.

Joel couldn’t help but smirk at your words as he moved his hand away from your breast and lowered to your stomach, “Are the doors locked?” He whispered, glancing over at the door that attached your classroom to the hallway.

“I’m already past hours. We should be fine.” You whispered. That was enough of an answer for him as he pushed his hand down your leggings to cup you through your underwear, making you gasp at the contact.

“Already so wet for me?” Joel chuckled and shook his head as he rubbed circles around your clit through your underwear, “Such a good girl, just like I remember.” He praised, placing kisses on your jaw and your neck.

You moaned at his words. Hearing him call you a good girl made your panties even wetter if it were possible. Your mind kept screaming at you, trying to remind you why you had stopped seeing him in the first place. You were his daughter’s teacher, for crying out loud. You didn’t want to complicate things anymore. But when he kept circling your clit with his two fingers, all of those thoughts seemed to disappear in a cloudy fog. All you could focus on was the sensation.

You bit down on your lower lip to try and hide in your moans, your hips bucking up to his fingers at the same time. The motion of your hips caused a low chuckle to escape from Joel’s lips as he continued to rub you at the same pace, savoring how much you seemed to be enjoying his delicate and practiced touch.

Joel never broke eye contact with you as he slid one of his fingers, then two, into your now soaked pussy. He groaned quietly and closed his eyes for a short moment at the feeling of your tight pussy, just imagining how it would feel like to have you squeezing around his dick.

A gasp turned moan left your lips as he started moving his fingers in and out of your pussy. He stared into his eyes, trying to ignore the fact that his jeans were currently restricting his near painful erection. Just the sight of you staring up at him from your chair with your mouth slightly agape made him want to just bend you right over your desk and fuck that sweet pussy of yours. The image of you screaming his name and looking up at him while he fucked you from behind over your desk burned in his brain. Why keep it just a little fantasy?

“Stand up.” Joel demanded and swiftly removed his now wet fingers; the emptiness was soon followed by an intense yearning for something more.

Your mind was hazy with lust while you did just as he directed. You stared at him, but his eyes were focused on your chest, which was moving up and down slightly in both anticipation and excitement.

“Take off your shirt.” Was his next demand, very much to the point. But his heart was going just as fast as yours.

You didn’t waste another second as you removed your shirt over your head while he unbuckled his belt at the same time, his eyes watching you the entire time. Knowing that he was practically watching your every move made you tingle in excitement.

Joel licked his lower lip as he watched you, letting out an involuntary groan. You could hear the zipper of his pants when he zipped them down, and he slowly walked up behind you. His calloused hands gently unhooked your bra, his touch surprisingly tender.

He caressed your sides, slowly moving down to your ass. His touch remained gentle, and you felt like you were in the arms of a loved one, a husband you’d been married to for years, perhaps. You were quickly taken aback, however, when he gripped onto your hips and bent you over your desk. You held onto your desk and let out a moan of both pleasure and surprise.

“Can’t wait to fuck this pussy.” Joel mumbled under his breath, but just loud enough for you to hear.

“I need you inside of me, Joel,” You practically begged him, your head resting on its side on your desk, “Need you so bad.” Your voice was nearly a whimper at this point.

Joel couldn’t even help but smirk as he heard your pleas, which were all for him and no one but him. The sound of you begging for him made his cock throb in his jeans. He quickly let himself free, pulling his jeans and underwear down and letting them fall down to his ankles.

He pulled down your leggings just as fast, pushing your underwear off to the side to reveal your glistening pussy, wet and ready just for him.

“So, so pretty darlin’..” Joel praised with a shake of his head, admiring the sight for just a moment as he stroked his cock, giving it a few good pumps before pushing himself inside of you.

His fingers gently dug into your hips as he slowly and carefully slid his entire length inside of you, whispering quiet praises of how you were such a good girl for him in your ear. With how wet you were for him, he was able to get inside of you relatively easily. The feeling of his dick finally being inside of you was indescribable. He wasn’t able to stop imagining what it must feel like ever since he first walked into your classroom.

“That’s it.” Joel cooed and rubbed your hips before slowly entering in and out of you, starting his thrusts at a slower pace to ease you into it a little bit more.

Soft and strangled moans were caught in your throat as he took control, your eyes slowly starting to flutter shut at the feeling of being so full. Gradually, his thrusts became faster and faster as his breathing increased. His own groans overpowered yours, much to his dismay.

A quick smack was laid on your bare ass, earning a quick and loud moan from you, one that was much louder than you expected.

“I want to hear you, baby girl. Want to hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel.” Joel said between huffs and groans, his thrusts never slowing down but increasing in speed and intensity.

You let your mouth and throat relax at his request, not even bothering to hide your moans and whimpers. The building was completely empty at this point. Nobody in their right mind would still be here at these late hours of the night except for the two of you.

“Mmm..” Joel groaned and nodded, keeping a rhythmic pace with his thrusts while he held onto your hips, “Love hearing you like that..” he grunted, his voice staggered as he thrust in and out of you.

“Love you fucking me like this, Joel... Goddamn, I love it so much.” You moaned and let out a quiet yelp as he spanked your ass again, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the room. You moaned even louder at the contact.

“Me too... Fuck! Me too..” Joel repeated, his words weakening as he felt himself getting closer to the finish line. He bent his body forward while holding onto your hips, resting his head in the crook of your neck, leaving messy bites and kisses all along your skin, “So close, mmm... So fuckin’ close, baby..” He whispered, his thrusts getting messier with more fervor.

He slowly looked back at you, taking a good look at your messy hair that covered your face while you were being fucked by him. Your mouth was agape, your eyes were closed, and soft moans left your soft lips. And it was all for him... All of this was all for him…

“Fuck!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he came, pulling your hips in closer to him to get as deep inside you as he possibly could.

That was what brought you over the edge. You were surprised to have finished so quickly, or even at all, for that matter. But the way he grabbed your hips to be as close to you as possible, to fill you up as much as he could, sent you waves of euphoria. Loud moans of his name filled the room, followed by a lot of heavy breathing.

His sweaty body hovered over yours as he slowly removed himself from inside of you. That feeling of emptiness in your pussy was there once again.

Joel kissed the top of your head and stood back up to put his jeans back on, leaving you over the desk to try and recover from your orgasm, your heart still pounding.

“Fuck..” Joel whispered breathily as he buckled up his belt, looking over at you as you tried to recover yourself from off of your desk, your legs struggling to keep stability.

“Yeah..” You chuckled in agreement and took a deep breath, slowly sitting back down in your desk chair.

“So,” Joel began and leaned over to get closer to you, his elbows resting on the desk, “Are you free this weekend? Sunday?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, already knowing where he was trying to go with this request, “Are you trying to ask me out on a date, Mr. Miller?” You inquired knowingly.

“I may be,” He smiled charmingly and stood up. “Depends on your answer.”

“Well, in that case,” You paused and stood up from your chair, pressing a cheeky kiss to his lips, “I’ll see you on Sunday. Don’t be late.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #18+#female reader #writing #fiction #joel miller smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut

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janaispunk · 9 months

Text

still bejeweled

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~4.4k

summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend, your self-esteem is crushed. your best friend takes you to your favorite bar to take your mind off of things. there's a band is playing there tonight and the singer immediately catches your eye. inspired by taylor swift's bejeweled – and when i meet the band, they ask, 'do you have a man?', i could still say, 'i don't remember'

tags/warnings: explicit smut, only 18+, no/pre-outbreak au, no sarah, musician!joel, small age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel's in his mid 30s), alcohol consumption, joel pulls her hair, able-bodied reader, a bit of angst, fluff, making out, fingering, dirty talk (joel talks you through it, i just know it), praise kink, unprotected p in v (i just didn't feel like mentioning it, this is my fantasy world where pregnancies & sti's don't exist, but they very much exist in the real world, don't do this), joel has a big dick (it's canon), consent king joel, rough sex, ass-slapping, hair-pulling, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: this came to me while making breakfast and listening to taylor, and didn't want to leave my head again. pretty self indulgent, i'm fairly certain that a musician!joel in my life would fix me. also, to boyfriends everywhere: fuck you <3

• dividers by the lovely @saradika!

• find my full masterlist here!

You storm out of the apartment, fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill over. This is it for good, you tell yourself. It's not the first fight of the sort that you and your boyfriend Max – now ex-boyfriend, you guess – have gotten into, with you usually backing down eventually, to keep the peace between the two of you. You've been together for more than three years, and you had hoped that this might be the one – the guy that you can settle down with, the one that you've been waiting for.

But over the past few months, Max has gotten more distant, less involved in the relationship, less interested in you, making you feel like you're burdening him, like you're always asking for too much. Like you are too much. You had asked several times if something was bothering him, something that you could work through together. Everything's fine babe, I don't know why you're even asking. Stop getting on my nerves with this.

You scoff to yourself. Usually, this was the point where you would step back from the argument, not willing to invest energy in a fight that wouldn't lead to anything anyway. Maybe things weren't perfect with Max, but they were what you knew. Familiar, comfortable. Better than being alone. Maybe not the big love that books and movies told you about, but who knows if that sort of thing even exists.

But today, when he just wouldn't give a shit about anything you said, something inside of you had snapped. “I feel like you don't even love me anymore. Do you?!” you had demanded, and the look on his face had told you everything that you needed to know.

That's how you find yourself on the street in front of your best friend's place, the short walk having somewhat cleared your head. Who does Max even think he is? It's not too much to ask to care about your partner, to show interest in them, to support them, is it? And he hasn't done any of that in quite some time.

All things considered, he just wasn't that great of a boyfriend. Still, you can't help feeling sad about it. Another relationship failed, another guy that just didn't deem you as good enough to pay attention to you. Maybe you're just not that interesting, a voice in your head whispers. You sniffle and shake your head, willing the thought out of your mind.

Your best friend Amanda greets you at her door, immediately clocking your slumped shoulders and reddened eyes, and hugs you tightly while leading you into her living room. Her concern for you elicits another wave of tears and you shakily recap today's events to her. She listens patiently, thankfully not telling you that you're better off without him or something like that, because even though you know that yourself, you don't think you could bear someone else saying it.

“I just can't believe that I'm single again and need to start over once more and I just-,” you bite your lip, willing away the tears that are pooling in your eyes, “I just feel like I'm not enough, like I can't keep a guy or I'm too picky, I don't know. It's just so frustrating, I don't wanna end up alone.”

Amanda's expression softens and she pulls you into her arms again. “You're not gonna end up alone, I promise you. You're funny and smart and,” she looks you up and down, “fucking hot. But you can't settle for less just because you're scared of ending up alone, okay? You're gonna find the guy that's right for you and then it will all make sense. Promise.”

You sigh, not sure if you believe her but also not in the mood to argue. After more talking, during which she eventually slips a glass of wine into your hand, Amanda decides that the two of you should go out tonight. Blow off some steam, show the world and yourself that you've still got it, as she puts it. You're honestly not sure if you've ever had it to begin with, but you let her enthusiasm wash over you, playing along as she insists that you wear one of her skimpiest dresses and starts doing your make up. You feel a little self-conscious with the tiny black dress that she has put you in and the dramatic red lipstick that she's currently applying to your lips.

“Don't look at me like that. You look so good and you'd know that if that fucker hadn't made you feel like you didn't for the past few months. But you've been too good of a girl for far too long now, and we're gonna change that tonight. Deal?” She expectantly holds her hand out for you to shake and you feel the excitement starting to bubble up in you. Maybe she's right and you do need to let go of your insecurities tonight. You shake her hand and she laughs delightedly, causing you to giggle as well.

Amanda finally declares that you're good to go, digging a sparkly handbag that's covered in tiny silvery jewels out of her closet. That one's actually yours, but you had left it at her place a few weeks ago after Max had told you how it was just too much and how you looked ridiculous with it. You had let it slide, thinking that it wasn't worth it to ruin the evening by fighting over a stupid handbag. What was wrong with you, you think to yourself now.

You look at yourself in her full-length mirror and you have to agree, you do look good. The short dress leaves most of your thighs bare, hugging your curves in all the right ways and the lipstick looks amazing, drawing the focus to the shape of your mouth. You do polish up real nice.

Amanda's boyfriend Patricks whistles appreciatively when you both exit from the bedroom and wishes you loads of fun. That's what a boyfriend should be like, you think to yourself. Supportive, loving, and just... kind?

Amanda drags you to one of your favorite bars. You've been here countless times together; usually it's a good crowd and the drinks are cheap. It's live music night, you realize as you walk in and notice the small stage at the far end of the room, which also explains why it's more crowded than usual. You push through a few people and manage to find two seats at the bar, from where you can watch the stage and hear the music, but it isn't too loud to talk.

The bartender comes up to you and Amanda orders tequila shots before you can even open your mouth. “I would've stuck to wine,” you complain to her and she shrugs, a big grin on her our face.

“That wouldn't be half as fun. We're going all out tonight, remember?”

You roll your eyes and nod, but when you down the first shot and bite down on the lime, you can't help the laugh that bubbles up in your throat. “That's my girl!” Amanda giggles and promptly orders another round. After two more shots and feeling the tingling warmth that's spreading through your body, you let your eyes wander around the room until they find the stage.

It's mostly local bands that play here, some better than others, and tonight's isn't half bad. It's four guys, a little older than you, mid-thirties if you had to guess, and their music has an acoustic, country-ish vibe to it. Your eyes linger on the man in the front, who is softly singing into the microphone while strumming along on his guitar.

He's kinda hot, you muse to yourself, gaze trained on the way his muscles are softly flexing while he's plucking on the guitar strings with his large hands, the sleeves of his dark t-shirt straining against his arms. His deep voice is washing over you, reminding you of whiskey and honey, and you squint a little to take a closer look at his face. He has a strong jaw and pouty lips, and dark, expressive eyes that gaze into the room while he's singing. You can't explain it, but something about him just feels... warm. Like he's safe. Kind.

He has a scruffy beard and messy curls, giving him a sort of rugged look, that, combined with his incredibly broad shoulders, has you biting your lip subconsciously. How easily he could cage you in, how big and warm his hands would feel on your body...

Damn, he's really hot. And you really feel the tequila talking right now.

Amanda's fingers appear in your field of vision, snapping impatiently and you turn back to her, heat crawling up your cheeks. You might have been staring a bit too obviously. “Which one?” she grins.

“Huh?” you ask, rather poorly feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on! Okay, I'll guess,” she continues on, not giving you a chance to even try to deny anything, “it's the singer, right?”

“I-,” you start, but the look on her face tells you that it's already a lost cause, “yeah.”

She laughs delightedly and gestures to the bartender for another round of shots. “Oh, I don't think-,” you try to object, but she shushes you.

“I won't rest until you've made a move on that guy, good choice dare I say, and live a little. So drink up!” She toasts to you and you can't help laughing yourself before you tip your head back and swallow the burning alcohol in one go.

You steal another glance towards the stage – maybe a rather extended glance in all honesty – and catch the singer's eye. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then he lets his eyes wander around the room, before returning to you, his lips curling into a knowing smirk when you're still looking at him.

You hastily tear yourself away, leaning into Amanda in an attempt of hiding how flustered you're suddenly feeling. “That was fucking hot,” she breathes into your ear.

“I know,” you whisper back urgently. Then the insecurity kicks back in. “Do you think he really meant me? I mean, we're all the way in the back here, I bet he can barely see-”

Amanda swats at your arm, shaking her head. “Please, he totally meant you. You're gonna talk to him later, you hear me?”

You groan, “Oh my god,” and lean into her further. “I'm not cut out for all this, I wouldn't even know what to say.” She tsks at you and orders another round of drinks, not taking No for an answer.

You loosen up a little over time, throwing a few more glances towards the stage and delight in the way he always seems to just wait for you to look at him. When you've made eye contact several times, he winks at you and you can't help but giggle, a kind of warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol. A wide grin stretches across his face as he announces the last song for the night. You give up all pretenses, your eyes basically glued to him until he strums his guitar one last time, then thanks the audience and joins his bandmates as they wander off the stage.

The bands usually pack up, then join the bar's patrons for a few beers. You try not to appear totally desperate and refrain from staring at the door that leads backstage, instead busying yourself with your drink and listening to Amanda, when you feel someone sliding to the bar counter behind you and a hand lands to rest on your shoulder. A very big, very warm hand, you come to notice, before a deep, honeyed voice floats into your ear, causing you to turn around.

“Hi. Can I buy you a drink?”

He seems even bigger up close, and even more handsome, and your lips part slightly, taking him in. You take a beat too long to answer, just sinking into his deep brown eyes, and a grin slowly spreads across his face. “I'm Joel, by the way.” He extends a hand for you to shake and you blink, shaking yourself out of your staring, quickly taking his hand and offering your own name.

His hand dwarfs yours, enveloping it in his warmth and you feel yourself blush. This is the moment, you tell yourself. “I'd love a drink,” you smile at him and he flags down the bartender to take your order. You steal a glance at Amanda, who's nodding enthusiastically.

“So...” Joel drawls when you have your drink, still standing so close to you that you're almost touching, with a smirk playing around the corner of his mouth, “do you have a man, or-?”

Your thoughts briefly flicker to Max, but you find that you can barely remember how devastated you felt mere hours ago, that you can hardly recall his face right now. “No... no, I don't.”

“She most certainly does not, she's all yours,” Amanda chimes in, leaning around you and beaming at Joel.

You can't help but giggle at the entire situation, pleasantly buzzing with both the alcohol in your system and the feeling of having Joel in your direct proximity, and finding him more attractive with every minute that you look at him.

“I really liked your performance,” you tell him and his grin widens.

“Yeah? I could tell, sweetheart.” You laugh; the pet name has your heart soaring in your chest, but you feel completely relaxed with him, not awkward, not desperate to please him or keep his interest. You just feel... good. Really, really good.

Talking to him is easy. He makes you laugh, makes you feel comfortable, and your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much, but you can't stop. He's constantly touching you, his hand lingering on your shoulder, your arm, sliding down to your waist, and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

When he pulls at your hips to pull you off your bar stool, you quickly follow his lead, letting him sway you around to the music that's now playing from the juke box, giggling the entire time. You feel like a teenager, but you couldn't care less. You're tipsy, you're happy, the easily most attractive man that you've ever met seems to be more than interested in you – you feel amazing.

Joel's hand comes up to cup your face, his calloused fingertips brushing over your cheek and you lean into his touch. His eyes flick down to your lips and your breath stutters in your chest. Your arms wrap around his neck at the same time that he leans in until his mouth meets yours, your lips eagerly opening against his.

A pleased hum is rumbling up in his chest and both of his hands grab at your hips, pulling your body flush against him as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your hands burrow into the messy curls at his neck and you all but whimper against his lips. You feel his mouth curl into a smile before he pulls away, the look in his eyes a little dazed, mirroring your own.

“You you wanna come home with me?” he asks quietly, “I live right around the corner.”

There's no need to even think about it, you want this man desperately. You quickly check on Amanda, who waves you off with a shit-eating grin and some rather crude words of encouragement.

You swing your glittery purse over your shoulder and Joel whistles lowly. “That's fancy. I like it.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “You do?”

“Yeah. Suits you.” A wide smile is spreading across your face and, without a second thought, you grab his hand to pull him out of the bar.

He really lives close nearby and you're stumbling through a dark hallway barely five minutes later. Joel has his hands on your hips and his lips on your mouth, kissing you roughly as he leads you into what you presume is the direction of his bedroom. He kicks the bedroom door shut behind you and crowds you up against the wood, his hands grabbing at your sides, pulling at the dress, revealing more skin to his touch.

The room is dimly lit, yellow light from the street below filtering in through the windows, and his eyes roam over you. “Fuck, you're so hot,” he growls and captures your mouth in another searing kiss, his hand coming up to palm at your breasts, roughly squeezing the flesh and running his thumb over your nipple through the fabric. You mewl into his mouth and he pulls back breathlessly. “You're an eager little thing, aren't you?” he murmurs and you arch your back, trying to press yourself back into his touch.

“Please, Joel,” you whimper and he chuckles before diving back in, his tongue hot in your mouth and his fingers creeping under your dress, toying with the hem of your underwear.

He pulls it aside, his fingers grazing your already soaked folds and you buck your hips into his touch. He slides your dress up higher until his hand comes to rest on your bare hip and he searches your face.

“You're feeling good? You want this?”

You nod eagerly and he tuts softly. “Gotta let me hear it, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, his respectfulness paired with the dark look in his eyes spurring your arousal on even further. “I want it, please.”

“Good girl, so polite too,” he murmurs and your legs almost buckle underneath you. His hand travels back between your legs, grabbing at your underwear and quickly pulling it off of you, before his fingers are back, sliding through your wetness and circling your clit slowly.

“Fuck, you're dripping. So good for me, all eager and ready, huh?”

The whine that comes out of you sounds faintly like a “yes” and he presses another kiss to your lips, before he thrusts two fingers into you, stretching you deliciously.

“Fucking tight,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice sounding wrecked already. He sets a languid pace, pausing every so often to curl his fingers deep within you, hitting that spongy spot that has your legs shaking and your hands grabbing at his shoulders as high-pitched whines fall out of your mouth.

You can see the pleased smirk on his face as you're falling apart on just his fingers. His other hand travels up to the straps of your dress, pulling them down and revealing your breasts to him.

His lips suck on the newly exposed flesh and you hear him mutter, “so fucking pretty” against your skin. His mouth travels to your nipple, flicking his tongue over the hardened bud, while his fingers keep thrusting and curling inside of you.

Heat is boiling in your abdomen, licking at your spine and you can almost taste your orgasm already. “Joel, I'm gonna- please don't stop, please,” you manage to breathe out.

“You're gonna come on my fingers, pretty girl?” he asks, before sucking your nipple back into his mouth. “Go ahead, let me feel it.” His thumb starts to toy with your clit in quick, precise circles, and you gasp. The heat spreads through your entire body as your orgasm takes hold of you, your toes curling and your legs shaking while you pulse wildly around his fingers.

“Good girl, you look so pretty when you come,” Joel whispers, trailing kisses from your breasts up to your neck as you slowly come down from your high.

Joel maneuvers you to his bed, supporting your weight and gently setting you down until you're sprawled out on the covers. You can still feel the aftershocks from your orgasm, but your want for him is coursing through you like a wildfire and you eagerly stretch your arms out for him.

He chuckles, mumbling something about you being insatiable and quickly pulls his shirt over his head, revealing golden skin and a body that's obviously strong and muscular, but he still has a softness to him.

You sit back up and scoot closer, your hands flying to his beltbuckle as you press kisses against his belly, reveling in the way his breath hitches and his muscles are twitching under your mouth.

You tilt your head up, silently asking for permission as you tug on his pants and he nods, smiling down at you. You pull his pants and underwear down in one go, desperate to see all of him, and you can't help the soft gasp that escapes your mouth at the sight before you.

He's fucking big, and you should probably worry about fitting all of him inside of you, but instead the fire in your abdomen is flaring up again and you subconsciously press your thighs together.

Joel leans down to you, pulling your already bunched up dress over your head and leaving you just as bare as he is.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he smirks.

“I- yeah,” you nod, shyly smiling up at him and he pecks your lips.

“Me too.”

He crowds you in, his broad body looming over yours as you lay back down on the bed and his fingers find their way in between your legs again. He grazes your clit, then swirls a finger through your wetness, spreading it on your inner thighs, and your hips buck up into his touch, causing him to chuckle.

“Impatient little thing.”

You can barely form a coherent thought, you're desperate to feel his cock inside of you and you eagerly part your legs when he situates his body between them. He grabs at your thigh, spreading you open even wider, before landing a playful slap against the backside. An almost embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and Joel's smirk turns downright feral.

“You liked that, sweetheart? You like it when I'm a little rough with you?”

He's grinding his hips against you, sliding his cock through your wetness, the tip almost catching at your entrance. You're past the point of caring, nodding mindlessly, you just want him inside of you.

“Fuck, yes, please Joel, please.”

“Should've known,” he mumbles, “it's always the quiet ones. Actin' all shy, but you need it bad, don't you? Gonna fuck you so good, take such good care of you, don't you worry.”

You whimper, your breath catching in your throat when he lines his cock up with your center, his tip already parting your walls, but he stops himself again. “Tell me once more, sweetheart. You still good, still want this?”

“Yes Joel, fuck, I want it,” you whine. The words have barely left your mouth when he slams into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your walls fluttering around his length, trying to accommodate him as he's splitting you open. The stretch is intense, bordering on painful, but you still feel yourself getting wetter around him, pain turning into pleasure as he stills inside of you for a few moments to let you adjust.

“Goddamn it, you're tight, you're taking me so good, such a good fuckin' girl.”

His mouth is close to your ear, muttering filth to you with his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin on your neck. Another loud moan falls from your mouth at his words and you clench around his cock that's still buried deep inside of you, causing him to groan.

“Yeah you like that, wanna be a good girl for me, don't you?”

You nod breathlessly and he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back into you, setting a brutal rhythm that's forcing moans from your throat and has you wildly clenching around him. One of his hands is playing with your nipples again, pinching and pulling at your delicate flesh and sending delicious sparks of pleasure straight to your core while he's still fucking you deeply. It's incredible, already easily the best you've ever had, but you still want more, want him deeper.

“Oh my god, p-please Joel,” you stutter.

“Please what?”

“H-harder, please.” He growls at that, pulling himself out of you and flipping you around until you're on your knees, presenting your ass to him. He presses his cock back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs, and his hand connects with the skin on your ass cheek in a harsh slap.

“Knew you were a filthy little thing, fuck, just waitin' around for someone to give it to you hard, huh?” he growls. The way he's talking to you is going straight to your core and you feel a second high approaching rapidly.

His hand tangles in your hair, making a fist and pulling until you're arching your back, slightly changing the angle and letting him hit a spot inside of you that absolutely devastates you. There's stars dancing across your eyes, your thighs are quivering and your walls are pulsing rhythmically.

“Not someone, just- just for you,” you moan out, shuddering around him as another orgasm washes over you, your vision swimming and you're clamping down on him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Joel mutters, his hands grabbing your hips roughly and holding onto you with strong hands as he stills his movements and spills himself deep inside of you.

You feel almost delirious as Joel hugs you tightly to his body, kissing you deeply before he gently lays you down on the bed. He cleans you up, gets you a glass of water and covers you with a thick blanket before he slides into bed beside you.

His arm wraps around your middle and he pulls you closer against his chest, engulfing you in his warmth and peppering your bare neck and shoulders with kisses. You nuzzle into him, your eyes falling shut as you relax under his soft touches. You can't remember the last time you felt this good. Protected, cared for, happy.

“Sweetheart?” Joel's voice sounds from behind you and you give a little hum. “I know this started out like a one night thing, but-” he pauses, almost sounding a little shy, “promise me that you won't just vanish in the morning, okay?” You smile and crane your head to press your lips against his once more.

“I promise.”

a/n #2: ...yeah, this would definitely fix me. shout out to the real life amanda for being an amazing friend and the best hype woman, thank you for yelling about pedro with me 24/7. also shout out to the real life patrick for being an amazing boyfriend and providing us with insights about the male sexual experience lol. thank you guys for being the best adoptive parents to my third-wheeling single ass. <3

thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!

#janaispunk #janas fics #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedrostories

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cameronspecial · 7 months

Note

Idea:

Rafe and Reader have sex at a party but they don’t know that Rafe’s ex is filming them.

The next day its leaked and everyone has seen the video.

They didn’t know until Sarah called Reader (angry) because nobody knew they were together.

Violation of Privacy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: UNCONSENSUAL FILMING OF SEX (Not by Rafe) AND DISTRIBUTING IT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

A/N: I changed the plot a little. If this has happened to you, please know that this isn't your fault and that there are resources that can help you.

Masterlist

Rafe and Y/N exit his bedroom one after the other, looking around to make sure no one is around to see them together. He finishes buttoning up his shirt while she is running her fingers through her hair so it looks less of a mess. If anyone was watching, they would easily be able to see that the couple just had sex in the room. The secrecy of their activities in the bedroom isn’t because they are embarrassed about the act, but because their relationship itself is a secret. With one final sweep of the hallway, Y/N leans up to give Rafe a kiss on the lips before running off to her friends.

——

Y/N wakes up the next morning to the ringing of her phone. As soon as it stops, it starts up again to tell her that whoever is trying to reach her still wants to talk. Her hand darts out from under the warmth of her covers to grab her phone on the side table. She brings it to her ear, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Hello,” she manages to croak out. Sarah lets out a sigh of relief, “Don’t open the mass text that you got this morning.” “What are you talking about? What mass texts?” Y/N questions. Despite her friend’s warning, she opens up her texts to see a group chat containing just about every Kook and Pogue near their age. Derogatory and disgustingly sexual texts from various males of the island are sprinkled in between texts defending an unknown she. Y/N keeps scrolling, ignoring the call of her name coming from her phone. The start of the conversation is finally in sight. She freezes at the thumbnail of the video; a familiar bedroom portrayed on her screen. She hesitates to press the play button, but there is a sick part of her that needs to confirm what she suspects.

The room is still in the video for a few seconds before light is brought in through the opening of the door. As soon as her giggles reach her ears and Rafe kissing her neck comes into the frame, she throws the phone across the room. Who had recorded them? Why would they want to invade their privacy by not only filming such an intimate activity but sharing it with people it did not belong to? The discomfort in her stomach grows tenfold and she has to run to the bathroom to stop herself from making a mess in her bedroom.

She can hear the front door being opened and Rafe’s voice fills the air. “Beautiful, are you here?” She can’t call out to him, too busy emptying her stomach in the toilet. He finds her hunched over the toilet and rushes to her side. One hand forms a ponytail in her hair and the other rubs her back soothingly. “I’m guessing you saw the text,” he whispers, bringing his lips to her temple. She can merely let out a cry as she wipes the corner of her mouth and curls into his hold. She cries in silence for a moment, “I feel so violated. I don’t feel safe anymore. Rafe, who could’ve filmed us in your bedroom?” Rafe’s heart sighs a little, thanking the universe that she doesn’t suspect him because he has absolutely nothing to do about this. “I don’t know, Beautiful. But I’m going to find them and make them pay,” he promises to her.

“I don’t care about revenge. I care about the fact that someone destroyed something that was supposed to be between us and made it into an object to be viewed by any asshole who wants to jerk off to it. I care about the fact that I don’t feel beautiful anymore because I’ve read all the horrid objectifying things people think about me.”

“Hey, look at me. Don’t ever doubt your beauty, Beautiful. Don’t let those pervs have that part of you that should feel like yours. You are beautiful in so many other ways than just your body. Why do you think it’s your nickname?”

She looks up to him with warmth in her heart, “What other ways am I beautiful?” “In your mind. In your heart. In your love for everyone around you. In everything you do. The people, who say those things about you, don’t know what true beauty is,” Rafe reassures the best that he can. He knows nothing can really placate what she is feeling. If she is feeling even half of what he is, the turmoil going on in his girlfriend’s mind would be categorized as the worst type of hurricane. What they are going through is worse for her because women are always crucified in these situations while men are praised. All Rafe wants to do is comfort his girlfriend, “What can I do to make you feel better?” “I want to go to the police about this. I know it won’t take the video back but at least the person who sent it will get their justice and hopefully, they won’t be able to do this to someone else,” she whispers. Rafe nods, “I’ll go get you some clothes.”

He stands up, giving her a kiss before going to her room to get a change of clothes. The whispers of her name calling from the phone catches his attention and he leans down to pick it up. “Sarah?” he questions. Sarah lets out a breath, “Rafe, where is she? Is she okay? I tried to tell her not to look. I didn’t even know you guys were dating. Nobody knew.” “That’s because it was a secret. It wouldn’t be a secret if everyone knew,” he states plainly into the phone. “And she’s doing as okay as anyone in this situation would be. She obviously feels horrible about it. Listen, I gotta go. We are going to go to the police station. Get down to the bottom of this.” With mumbled goodbyes, he hangs up the phone and gets Y/N’s clothes.

——

At the station, the police take Rafe and Y/N’s statements and phones as evidence to track down the number who sent out the text. Rafe opens up the car door for her and rounds the car to the driver’s side once she is in. When he enters, tears are already streaming down her face. He pulls her over the center console into a hug to comfort her. “I know this is hard, but we are going to get through this together. I promise,” he vows to her, running his fingers through her hair. This whole mess feels like hell, but at least they have each other.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron

387 notes · View notes

ghostofwriting · 3 months

Text

Kildare Split Part Three: Bleach

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Chapter 3: Bleach

Note: Hi! I love you all so much, thank you for reading and being absolutely wonderful. Here is Chapter Three, it covers the smau basically up until Rafe blocks Topper. Still no answers on that 💋

Warnings: none, not edited, angst, swearing, sadness, julio.

Word Count: 5,343

Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favourite band.

Chapter Three: Bleach

That didn’t go how he planned it. He hurt her inconceivable amounts and it’s not going to be easy to get her to forgive him. He needs to work for it, he knows that. Hearing her say that she meant nothing to him when she meant the world to him hurts more than he could have ever imagined. He’s so mad at himself for ever saying those same things to her. He doesn’t deserve her. He knows that too. He’s always been selfish when it comes to her though, he needs her back. He needs to figure out how to talk to her first.

“Let me get this straight, you told her to listen to your album for what?”

“To understand what I’m feeling.”

“Rafe, the girl doesn’t need to understand what you’re feeling, she needs you to apologize to her.” His dad’s voice comes through the speaker. He was getting ready for bed when Ward called.

“The album is like an apology.” He tells his dad like it’s obvious.

“Unless you have a song in that thing that says ‘Y/N I’m sorry,’ for 3 minutes straight, she’s not going to hear it as an apology. She’s going to take it as an excuse.”

“I’m just so ashamed, I don’t know how to approach it.” he stares at the phone screen, a picture of his dad and Wheezie stares back at him.

“I miss you, dad.”

“I miss you too, son. You’ll be home soon and we’ll go golfing, how about that?” Rafe smiles softly.

His relationship with his dad hasn't always been this good. When he chose music over a ‘real’ career, his dad almost disowned him. Y/N had been the one to talk Ward out of it. Giving him a plan that if they didn’t make it in two years, she would drag him back by his ear and make him take over the company. They had to work their asses off but it happened, and Ward had accepted it. It had been a long road, they spent a lot of time not speaking to each other, communicating through Sarah. Ward hadn’t been to a single show before their first album was released. He remembers seeing Ward walk in next to Sarah and feeling his five-year-old self again, prepared to put on the best show for his dad to finally be proud of him. And he was, at the end of the night he hugged Rafe and told him everything he had ever wanted to hear from him. That he was proud of everything he had accomplished, that he was meant to perform, and that he loved him.

And he owed it all to her. It always goes back to her.

“That sounds great, Dad.”

“Have you talked to Sofia about this, you know girls, she might have some insight you don’t.”

“I don’t think Sofia’s up to giving me advice about Y/N.

“Rafe, this is only to get her back as your friend, correct? You and Sof are good?” Ward asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah, of course. Sof and I are great.” Denial. Always in denial, Rafe Cameron.

“Okay well, I wish you luck with all of that. Get some rest. I’ll be out in a couple of weeks.”

“Bye Dad, love you,” Ward tells him he loves him too and hangs up.

+++

Kiara of all people tells her to listen to his album. As if everyone else who’s telling her isn’t enough.

“Hold on, I thought I got you in the divorce?” Kie laughs at her joke.

“You did, but I think you should listen to what he has to say.”

“Kie, he hasn’t even apologized in person, why should I?” She’s playing with the thread that’s hanging off of the comforter.

“Because he’s always been better at explaining himself in song.” She says matter of factly.

“This is unbelievable.” Kie groans on the other side of the phone.

“Look, he’s a piece of shit and he was horrible to you. I know that, but god can he write.”

“I know he can. I work with him.”

“Y/N.”

“Kie.” She mocks

“Just listen.” She’s shaking her head and rolling her eyes, glad that Kie can’t see her.

“Okay, whatever, I don't want to talk about this anymore. What happened between you and jayj?”

“Ha! Nope.” She whines, wanting to know the drama between her two friends.

Sarah walks in with Penny in her arms. They had gone for a walk, Y/N citing vocal rest to skip going out in the rain.

“Vocal rest but you’re talking on the phone?” Sarah calls her out.

“My baby!” Sarah drops the small dog on the hotel bed, Penny running into Y/N’s arms.

“Thanks, Sarah.” She pouts at her.

“So what are we talking about?”

“Trying to get Y/N to listen to ‘Angel.’” Kie’s voice cuts through the speaker.

“Absolutely no use. She won’t.” Sarah says. She nods along agreeing with Sarah.

It’s not that she can’t listen to the album. She doesn’t want to. Why should she care about whatever he said in the album when he can’t tell her directly? The last time they talked he didn’t say sorry, albeit she didn’t let him say sorry with her whole speech she had been internalizing for three years. Even still, if he had just opened with ‘sorry’ she might have been more inclined to listen to his stupid album. She already knew it was about her, what more could she possibly learn?

So why can’t she get the thought of listening to it out of her head? She’s alone now, her dog next to her, sleeping tucked between her pillow and her neck. Sarah went back to her room a few hours ago and Y/N’s been trying to go to sleep to no avail.

So she plays the stupid album that she told Rafe to shove up his ass.

By the end of the album, she’s angry again. It’s great. Of course, it is. It’s him and he’s amazingly talented. Everything he touches turns to gold and she despises him for it. The chord progressions the tempos, the synths. Everything is amazing. Even the stupid lyrics that she wishes she could hate. How dare he be so talented and make her hate him just a fraction less?

The lyrics bother her. ‘I bought a house to live in but you’re the home I’m missin'?’ His fault. ‘I watched the weeks fly by, I’m not myself when you’re not there.’ His fault. Again. ‘I’m not a sentimental guy, I need you in my life.’ Well Rafe Cameron, why do you think she’s not in your life? It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that he completely obliterated her heart and is pretending that she just walked out on him.

Fuck you, Rafe. You don’t get to pretend.

+++

She hears Topper in the lobby of the hotel. He’s most likely the first one down here, waiting for the rest of them to wake up so they can take the car to the arena.

She stands off to the side, their manager Ash, handing out their backstage badges. She sees Topper take two from Ash out of the corner of her eye.

He extends the badge out to her for her to take and offers her a smile.

“Thanks.” She tells him.

“I know this is probably a long time coming and not the best place to have this conversation but I’m sorry.” She looks at him eyes wide, she tries to hide her shock, a small frown still visible on her face.

“Thanks.” She says again, not knowing how to respond to him.

“I know I’ve been a shitty friend. I didn’t know how to act when everything went down. I knew about Sofia and I felt like I betrayed you. You were so hurt and I didn’t deserve your friendship. I let you isolate yourself and I’m sorry. I should have done better.”

She feels her eyes welling up. She won’t let herself cry. Not where anyone could see them.

“Yeah, you have been shitty.”

“Is it too late for you to forgive me?” She shakes her head, launching herself into his arms. Strangely it feels like coming home. She is finally hugging her best friend again. The guy who used to want to fight anyone who even looked at her wrong.

“I missed you.” she breathes into his shoulder.

“I missed you too, I’m sorry.” She lets go of him sniffling. She sees unshed tears in his eyes too.

“It’s going to take some time for me to trust you, but I’ll work on it.”

“I will get on my knees, beg, and cry if you need me to.” She laughs

“I’ll let you know.”

As soon as the other two arrive, their badges are given to them and they all walk towards the car. She usually opts for sitting in the front ever since everything happened between them. She thinks that this time she can sit next to Topper.

“Hey, Ash?” She calls for her manager's attention, “Mind if you sit in the front this time?” Ash looks at her surprised but nods her head anyway.

“Of course, go.” She motions for Y/N to step into the car, Rafe and Barry look at her questioningly from the very back. She smiles at Topper and sits directly next to him, he offers her one of his airpods and she takes it. He’s listening to something she’s never heard and she doesn’t mind at all. For the first time in a long time, she doesn’t feel like the loneliest person in the car.

Rafe burns holes into the backs of both their heads. What the fuck is going on?

+++

“So are you going down there for your anniversary?” He hears Sarah ask. She and Y/N are getting their lunch.

“Ya, it works out perfectly with the tour ending just in time,” Y/N responds,

“So are you expecting a ring?” His ears perk up at the question, willing everyone around him to shut up so he can hear her answer clearly.

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” Y/N has a teasing tone to her voice and he feels like throwing up. He gets up from the table where he’s eating with Barry and Topper. His fork clanged against the plate as he stood up and stormed off. He can’t eat with the bile already rising in his throat. What’s wrong with him?

+++

He notices as Topper and Y/N fool around during their private soundcheck. They’re playing off each other, Y/N messing with his guitar as he sings into her microphone. He notices that it’s a little awkward but it’s better than it has been in years. He gives Barry another questioning look and Barry just shrugs. He makes a note to ask Topper what happened.

“I can’t hear myself in my left ear, I just hear Barry’s excessive screeching,” Y/N speaks into her microphone at one of the sound techs.

“Oh, I’m sorry we can’t all be professionally trained singers, princess.” Y/N scoffs.

“You’re in a band Barry, maybe learn how to sing.”

“Why are you being such a bitch right now?”

“Hey!” Topper yells turning towards Barry, “cut that shit out.” Barry makes a face at Topper but drops it.

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” Rafe asks, done with waiting to ask Topper after soundcheck.

“Just have her back, man.”

“Since when?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Since he apologized, maybe you should learn how to do that.” She purses her lips and instead of being annoyed, he can’t stop thinking about how cute she looks.

“I tried to apologize and all you did was yell at me for 10 minutes.”

“You didn’t try to apologize, Rafe! You tried to get me to listen to your album.”

“If you would have just heard me out.”

“What? I would know that you’re so apathetic it’s pathetic but you need me now? Or how about that you’re down on your hands and knees Beggin' me please, baby.”

“You listened.” He feels a sense of relief overtake him which is quickly washed away by her tone.

“Under duress.”

“What did you think?”

“I think it’s bold to sing songs about me when your girlfriend is ready to marry you.” He wants to deny that any of the songs are about her. It doesn’t work like that. Everyone knows. Instead of denying it or calling her conceited for thinking it’s about her, another question rises up and out of his mouth before he can stop it.

“Are you?”

“What?” She asks, confused. He wants to keep his mouth shut. Why does he need to know anything, why does he want to hurt his feelings so badly?

“Ready to marry him?” Oh, he’s so stupid.

“Yeah.” There is no hesitation in her answer and his heart breaks a little.

“Great.” He says shortly.

“Great.” She turns away from him and back to her microphone, talking to the tech until he gets the volume in her left ear right. He storms off the stage shoving his guitar into Topper’s chest, narrowly missing Topper’s guitar.

+++

“What’s your problem?” They’re waiting to be called to the stage for their second soundcheck with the fans.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You have been insufferable all day, more than usual. I can usually ignore you, I’ve been doing it for a really long time but you’re all pouting and grumbling. What’s wrong with you?”

“How could you forgive Topper and not me?”

“I haven’t forgiven Topper, but he apologized for everything, it’s more than you have ever done.”

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out.

“Rafe. Stop.” She goes to walk away but he grabs her arm, stopping her.

“What? You beg me to apologize and now you don’t want to hear it?”

“I didn’t want to beg you for it, I wanted you to apologize because it’s the right thing to do.”

“I know that I haven’t been a good friend to you. I’ve been so absent from our friendship. I let people get in the way of us and I self-sabotaged and pushed you away.”

“Rafe please.”

“I think that I pushed you away because I couldn’t be with you but I couldn’t be your friend.”

She holds her breath, waiting for what he says next.

“I couldn’t be just your friend because I was in love with you.”

“And I’m stupid okay? I’m the biggest idiot in the entire world for saying the things that I said to you.” He pauses to gauge her reaction. She’s looking directly at him, her gaze not faltering.

“You were never just someone I fucked. You weren’t some girl or someone who didn’t mean anything to me. You are the girl, you mean everything to me. You always have. And I am sorry. I am so sorry that I ever said those things.”

“Why did you?”

“I was terrified. It’s an excuse I know. The way I treated you should have never happened but- I just- I was so scared to ruin our careers and take away what we had been working for since we were practically babies. The work that you put into the band and I was just being so careless with it, I could have ruined everything. I didn’t know how to deal with that and being in love with you and high all the time. I couldn’t do it.”

“You got clean right after.”

“I knew that sabotaging us was the first step to me ruining everything else and I needed to make the sacrifice worth it so I got clean.”

“I’m a sacrifice. You sacrificed our friendship to keep the band but if you had just talked to me we could have decided together. We could have made something work.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” They hear the five-minute to curtain call announcement and Y/N sighs.

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?” He asks her, hopeful.

“I don’t know. You hurt me more than anyone ever has.” She shrugs.

“fuck, b- Y/N I’m so sorry. You have to believe me.” She nods.

“I think I do. I need time. I need to get used to the idea of letting you back into my life before I do.”

“Okay, yeah. What can I do?” He feels hopeful for the first time since he started trying to get her to talk to him.

“Just give me space for now. I’ll let you know.” She walks past him towards Topper. That’s a good start, he thinks.

+++

“Baby!” She yells as she gets off stage, running into Julio’s arms. His flight had been delayed so she didn’t get to see him before the show.

His arms wrap around her waist as he lifts her off the ground, spinning her around.

“When did you get here?” She asks him, kissing his lips before he answers.

“Just as you started the second song.” He pulls away to answer but buries his head in her neck, kissing her.

“Thank you for coming. I missed you so much.” She tells him, still not letting go.

“Always.” He pecks her lips again as the rest of the band comes up behind her.

“Hey, guys.” Julio greets them the best he can with a Y/N-sized necklace still hanging off him.

“Hey, man!” Topper taps him on the shoulder as he passes by him. Barry mumbles a ‘hey’ and Rafe just nods, his jaw tight.

+++

Julio had only been here for one night and already he knew everything that Rafe had told Y/N, Which is how he found himself sitting alone with the man in the green room.

“Y/N told me what you told her last night.” He really doesn’t want to have to explain to Y/N why her boyfriend is on the floor bleeding but if he throws the first punch, Rafe is only defending himself.

“Yeah?” He looks up from his phone and at Julio.

“Look, you hurt her. A lot. To the point where she thought she had no one because of you. She cried herself to sleep every day because of how alone she felt.” Rafe’s stomach churns at his words.

“I’m going to make it up to her.” He puts his phone down next to him.

“And you better mean it. Don’t lead her on. Be honest with her. Do not hurt her again.”

“I won’t.” He assures him.

“Good.” He thinks the conversation is over but Julio speaks up again.

“Rafe, I know how you feel about her. You need to back off. I love her. And she loves me. I will be here until she no longer wants me. Please don’t get in the way of that.”

“I’m engaged.”

“That doesn’t change the way you look at her. Your heart isn’t in it. Respect my relationship and I will respect you.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. I just want my friend back.” It’s not like she would take him back anyway. Even if he wanted to.

“Okay.” Cleo and Pope walk in to save him from the awkward silence.

“I’m going to head out.�� He picks up his phone and stands up from where he was sitting on the couch.

“Nice talking to you,” Julio calls.

“Yeah, you too.” He all but runs out of the room on a mission to find Sarah.

+++

Sarah Cameron is not one to spread rumours. She’s very much the type to wait for confirmation. She blames the circumstances and constant stress she’s under juggling her brother’s stupid feelings with Y/N’s and vice versa.

There has been way too much talk about marriage, Sofia finally arrived and all she can talk about is wedding dresses and the caterer and the first dance and Sarah is exhausted. And of course, Rafe is panicking about things he really shouldn’t be worried about like ‘Oh is Y/N getting married? Sarah, she said that she was ready.’ and Y/N herself teased that she wanted the ring and she wouldn’t say no if Julio proposed. So what is Sarah supposed to think when she hears Y/N squeal from her dressing room as she screams “Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you.” Sarah is tired.

She should have known there wasn’t an actual proposal when it happened in the dressing room of all places. She knows Julio, he’s a romantic guy, thinking back on it, there’s no way he would have proposed like that. Again, Sarah’s tired and she’s not thinking and she needs to tell someone and the first person she sees. Barry. Bad idea.

“Julio just proposed to Y/N and she said yes.” The information spills out of her mouth, it takes Barry a moment to process what she said but once he gets it he’s laughing.

“Shit. That’s going to kill him.” Fuck. Rafe. She hadn’t even thought of her brother’s reaction. She wants to be the one to tell him but he’s out with his trainer. She has to make sure no one tells him before she does.

“Topper!” She runs down the hall towards him.

“What’s up, why are you like sweating?” She waves him off.

“When does Rafe get back?”

“An hour still.”

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Y/N just got engaged and I need to be the one to break the news to him.”

“Holy shit. Good for her. Where is she?” Sarah shakes her head at him.

“That’s not the point, I need you to find out where Rafe is training so I can find him.”

“He’s probably running laps outside or at a nearby park.”

“Do you have his location?”

“No, security list.”

“Oh my god! I hate that you’re all famous sometimes.” She says through gritted teeth.

“I need to find John B. Make sure Rafe doesn’t find out!” She says running off down the hall again.

“Find out what?” Sofia’s voice comes from behind him.

“Jesus, Sofia, be louder next time.”

“Sorry. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing. Y/N just got engaged and Sarah doesn’t want anyone to know yet.’

“Fun! Congratulations to them, that’s so exciting!” He sees her pull out her phone and walk in the direction of the busses.

“See you, Top!”

“On the bus?” He asks her.

“Yeah.” She gives him a toothy grin.

Shit. Topper thinks. She’s going to tell Rafe.

+++

Kyle had just made him run way too much. Keeping up his stamina was important to perform every night. This time though Kyle really wanted to kill him.

“You hate me, man.” He says opening up his phone. Kyle laughs.

“You did great.” He tells him as they start their walk back to the arena.

He has a few notifications from Instagram from friends back home sending him reels and Wheezie tagging him in stories. He swipes out of Instagram and goes on to his Twitter quickly checking to see if the lineup for the show had started already, trying to see which way they took back to the arena without being seen.

Something catches his eye as he scrolls past it, he scrolls back up trying to find the pink icon.

‘@KSUpdates: 💍💍💍’ He reads through the other tweets wondering what that’s all about, were they promoting something he forgot about? He keeps scrolling until he sees someone say that Y/N’s engaged. He stops where he is, Kyle looking at him questioningly.

“You okay?” His head is spinning, his heart is racing faster than when he was working out, and he feels like throwing up. No, he’s not okay.

“I need to go.” He starts booking it to the arena, Kyle trailing behind him.

He has three unanswered texts from Sarah, a call from Topper, and one from Kelce by the time he makes it back to the arena. He says bye to Kyle and rushes to the bathroom. He’s going to throw up, he feels lightheaded.

He didn’t realize how not okay he was with losing her forever right until this moment. He couldn’t face it for the longest time. He loves Sofia. He does. She has been important to him, his growth, and his life, she’s been an amazing partner. But that’s all she’s been. A friend. Because he couldn’t give her his heart. Not when Y/N was out there already walking around with it. She had never given it back. She owned it, owned him. He knew that now. With every fibre in his being, he knew that he was still in love with her. And she was marrying someone else. He was losing her.

His breathing feels laboured. He feels the room continue spinning, he slides down the bathroom wall trying to keep the panic attack at bay. How could he be so stupid? How could it take him so long to realize that he couldn’t live without her no matter how hard he tried? It would always be her.

He hears his phone ringing again but ignores it. He needs to get his breathing under control before he can talk to anyone. They can’t know he’s losing it.

He needs to do something. He needs to get his shit under control and talk to Y/N. He hasn’t had a panic attack in so long. He’s not used to dealing with it. He needs to find Barry first.

+++

She’s in one of her moods again, every time Julio leaves she gets sad and it takes her a day or two to get back into the swing of things. It’s been a week since she had asked Rafe for space. She thinks that she’ll be able to work towards forgiving him or at least putting the past behind her. After talking to Cleo, Sarah, and Julio, they had all given her the same advice. Do what she believes is the best next step for her.

She notices Sarah hovering over Rafe like a mother hen, checking in on him, asking him if he’s okay every two seconds. She doesn’t know what happened but Topper had told her he went missing for the entire day until their show. And she’s pretty sure he showed up high. She’s scared for him. He’s been clean for so long that getting into drugs again now could shock his system. He’s not her responsibility anymore but she cares if he lives or dies.

That same day that Rafe went missing, everyone was congratulating her for being engaged. The updates account had hinted at her being engaged too, she doesn’t know where they got that information, she not only had to tweet, she had to tell the entire team that no, she was not engaged.

It had been a stupid misunderstanding that Sarah had apologized for a significant amount. Cleo had asked Julio how he would propose so Julio had set the scene for her and gotten down on one knee and Y/N had played along. Stupid and dumb.

She’s reading a contract for a new magazine shoot she’s doing when Rafe comes up to her.

“Hey.” He seems anxious. He can’t seem to stand still and his hair’s a mess.

“Hi, you good?” She asks him.

“No.” She gives him her full attention now. Wondering what he’s about to say to her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m selfish.” She doesn’t like the tone he says it in. Like he knows he’s about to tell her something he shouldn’t.

“Whatever you’re about to say don’t.” She goes back to her contract, staring at it blankly.

“When I thought you were engaged-”

“Rafe. Enough.”

“I had never felt so heartbroken in my life.” She’s shaking her head at him, trying to get him to stop.

“And I thought, I have to stop this now. I have to do whatever I can to stop it before it goes too far and I have to ruin your wedding. Because I would. Because I’m selfish.” She doesn’t know what to say to that so she says the first thing that comes to mind.

“It’s too late.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” There’s desperation in his voice, his eyes glassy.

“You’re engaged!” She yells, getting up and in his face.

“No, I love you.”

“I love Julio.”

“I love you.”

“Stop!” She turns her back to him and tries to find her breath.

“None of that changes how I feel. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to figure myself out.” She feels him behind her, looming over her shoulder.

“Why are you telling me any of this?”

“I can’t lose you. And that’s what’s happening because I’m an idiot. But I can’t lose you and I’m going to fight for you.” She turns around to face him, taking a step back, creating distance between them.

“There’s no fighting for me. We’re done. We’ve been over for so long. For three years I only spoke to you on stage or in interviews! There’s no us.”

“Tell me you don’t love me.”

“Rafe.” Her voice is firm but he doesn’t care.

“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone and you won’t ever have to see me again.”

“Not possible. The band.” She doesn’t know why she needs to make sure the band is safe in this moment, so much has happened between them to keep it alive, it can’t be at risk now.

“Outside of that then. Tell me.” She stays quiet, shaking her head once more.

“Please.” She snaps.

“I was in love with you for years! Since I was 13 years old you have lit up my goddamn world and when you finally gave me that chance, when you started looking at me like we could be something you ripped it all away. You hurt me so much and now? Now is when you want to come back and tell me everything I’ve been hoping for for years. Now when you’re getting married and I’m in a happy relationship?” She finishes, her chest heaving anger leaving her body in droves.

“You’re not in a happy relationship.”

“Rafe.” Her tone is warning him to not continue.

“Come on! He doesn’t understand you the way I do! Doesn’t understand the life we live, and the sacrifices we have made to be where we are. He’s not good enough for you.”

“And you are?”

“No.” She throws her hands up, “but, I understand you. I know who you are at your core, baby.”

“Stop.” She’s sure she’s shooting daggers at him now.

“Why?”

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“No, why are you with him?” He’s close to her again, she can feel his breath hitting her face.

“Because.”

“Because what?”

“Because I love him!” Rafe’s face falls. She exhales. “I love him.”

“No, you don’t.” She stays quiet.

“You can’t.” He backs up a little, his head shaking, eyes sad.

“Rafe,” she says softly, stepping closer to him. She reaches out but pulls her arm away quickly.

“It’s too late.” She repeats her words from earlier.

“But I love you.” She doesn’t want to hurt him but she knows she has to put an end to this.

“I don’t love you.”

“I’m so stupid. Oh my god, how did I ever let you go? I’m an idiot th-“ she cuts him off putting a hand on his arm.

“Hey hey, stop. It’s okay. We’ll get through this.”

“How?” Tears are threatening to spill over now. His eyes are red. She doesn’t know if it’s from holding back tears or from smoking.

“By being friends.” His blue eyes pierce into hers.

“I’ll try.”

“Okay.” There are a lot of things left unsaid between them. She hugs him for the first time in years and he puts his face in the crook of her neck. She feels him crying. His tears soaking her neck.

“I love you.” She does too. Not in the way that he wants. Not anymore.

“I know.”

#kildaresplit au #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #outerbanks au #rafe obx #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron smau #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe

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brooooswriting · 9 months

Text

Reasons

Natasha Romanoff x reader (Angst to fluff)

Set after black widow movie, talk of the red room, torture etc.

A/n: I haven’t written for Nat in a while but this came up in my head and I couldn’t stop myself.

“I promise she's cheating on me” Natasha whined to Clint who sat on his bed, ice pack on his knees after a long mission. He was gone for about 2 months meaning that Nat couldn’t talk to him, so she kept her problems inside until he came back.

“Nat, she loves you. Why the hell would she cheat on you?” He asks groaning, you only ever had eyes for her. Even before your three years relationship, all you ever saw was Natasha.

And it was true, you loved her more than your own life. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for her, you would destroy yourself for her which is what you were doing at the moment.

You barely left your lab at the moment, constantly being locked up in there with your new lab assistant, Sarah. Tony hired her for you and the redhead hated her the moment she met her, she was trying to steal you from her and her suspicions confirmed when you locked away with her.

“I promise you it’s Sarah, she’s stealing my girlfriend. I bet they are doing it right now” by now she couldn’t even hold back her tears, they were streaming down her face wildly. Clint sat up and wrapped her up in a hug to calm her down.

“How about this, try to get her to talk tonight no matter how late and if she doesn’t wanna talk, if she’s ignoring it. Go to bed and end it in the morning” the archer said, his hand stroking her back while she nodded into the crook of his neck.

That night at 2 a.m you finally came back to your room. The day has been exhausting and you couldn’t wait to lay behind Nat and cuddle into her, you missed her terribly but everything you did, you did for her. What you didn’t expect was your girlfriend awake sitting in your bed with her upper body against the headrest. “What are you doing awake love? It’s late” you whispered as if you could wake somebody up as you got rid of your shoes.

“Yeah, it is late and you haven’t been back at dinner time again! Where were you?!” She hissed at you, the glare making you cower.

“In my lab, I’ve been working” you explained with a soft smile changing into your pjs to finally go to bed.

“I wonder with who. Let me guess Sarah was there too huh?” The moment she said your lab assistants name her voice was filled with venom. She’s always had a problem with the blonde and you never knew why.

“Yeah, that’s what she gets paid for. Can we not talk about this right now? I wanna sleep, with you in my arms” you mumbled as you move towards her, crawling under the blanket.

“Stay away! You don’t wanna talk about it, fine. You do not touch me” she gritted out, turning away from you. You sighed, you really wish you could tell her but you couldn’t. Not yet. So you turned towards her, not touching her. Just starting at her back as you fell asleep.

The next morning you were gone when she was awake so she got Clint and started packing her things. You weren’t gonna come back until late at night and until then she’d be gone. She’d move into Clint’s room until she figured out what else to do.

What she didn’t expect was for you to come back to your room at 9 a.m with flowers in hand. “Nat? What’s going on? Why are you packing your stuff?” You questioned, flowers still in hand when she glared at you.

“We are over. Go fuck with Sarah, I mean, y/n be honest. This is what you wanted! You cheat, you loose me. I’m doing what you didn’t have the balls for. I’m ending this. I hope you’re happy with her” she spit out, speed walking past you. You were about to follow her but Clint stood in your way, blocking your path.

“Clint, come on. I gotta follow her” you said, trying to push past him but he refused. “Barton, you know I wouldn’t cheat on her” you tried again but no luck.

“I thought the same but now? Now I want you to stay away from her” he said pushing you back a bit. You took that as a sign to leave, turning to go back to your lab, the flowers thrown on the floor.

You came back to the lab with tears streaming down your face, anger fuming inside of you. “Are you alright y/n? You didn’t wanna be back unt- oh, you’re crying” Sarah said, coming over with a tissue.

“I’m good, I-I’m managing. Natasha broke up with me” there was a moment of silence. While Sarah was desperately afraid of the redhead, she still thought the two of you were the cutest couple she knows.

“Do- do you wanna stop all this?” She asked carefully, gesturing towards your project. After a second of silence you spoke up again.

“No, no. This isn’t just for her. This can help thousand of others too. So let’s finish this alright? How long is this going to take? Half a day max. We made it too far to stop” you explained as you stood up.

After 7 hours 98% of the tests came back positive making you break out in tears again. Sarah gave you a smile and pulled you into a hug to comfort you. “You did it y/n/n” she cheered you on, her arms still around you.

“Y/- oh my god. So what Nat said was true?! You cheated on her? With the woman Tony paid for you?” Steve growled as he walked in on you and Sarah hugging causing you to abruptly pull back. It was amazing how fast words spread in this tower because from the moment Steve left after screaming it took about 15 minutes for a fuming Wanda to come down to your lab, eyes glowing red and Yelena behind her.

“You’re dead Y/n Y/l/n” the widows sister called out and you could already feel Wanda’s energy radiating around you. This was gonna be your end. No question.

“No, wait. Please. I promise on my life that I didn’t cheat” you whimpered out as you were lifted into the air. Sarah stood in shock as you were thrown against a wall. “Wanda! Come on. Take my hand, you can feel if I’m telling the truth” the two women looked at each other for a second before Yelena nodded at the witch. So she approached your form that was sitting on the ground, leaning on the wall you were thrown against.

She took another of your hands, a red glow started to engulf them as she gave you a nod. “I never cheated on Nat, never have never will” you said looking at the woman in front of you.

“She’s telling the truth” Wanda confirmed, pulling you up as your hands were still connected.

“But then what is all of this? Why did you pull away from her? Why’d you do this?” Yelena asked desperately, in her mind she could still hear Natasha cry.

“I can’t explain right now, give me two more hours. In two hours send Nat down here please” you looked at Yelena especially, knowing that she was the one who could convince her sister to do this.

“Why?” Was the only thing you were met with. You sighed, this was gonna be complicated.

“I can’t tell you Yelena, Tasha sees right through you. I can’t have that happen, not after I nearly destroyed our relationship because of it” you explained, tears welling up in your eyes at the thought of your shattered relationship.

“Then no can do” was the answer you received, making you groan. You should have guessed that this wasn’t gonna be easy.

“How about I tell Wanda and she can tell you if it’s worth it or now” after Yelena agreed you leaned forward and whispered into the witches ear, her heart melting at what you told her. Once her eyes were brimming with tears she pulled back and nodded to Yelena.

“She’ll be here in exactly two hours” were the last words the woman spoke before they disappeared.

“Well, now quick” Sarah laughed and you two started to work with full speed.

“You know I might have to fire you right? To save my relationship” you mumbled as you read through the latest updates F.R.I.D.A.Y ran for you, making small changes.

“I know and it’s alright. I’d do the same thing if I ever love someone as much as you love her. I mean I’d be happy if you don’t have to but I get it. Oh, and I ordered flowers, Champaign and chocolate for the two of you” she smiled as she read through some of the statistics.

“I hope so too but I’d do anything for her”

Two hours later the lights were dimmed, the champagne was in the fridge and chocolate on the side table. You were changed into a trouser and a top instead of an oversized shirt and joggers. Now you were just waiting for the love of your life.

“You better have a really good reason to have Yelena get me down here!” Her voice could be heard before she could be seen. Her eyes were a bit red, her voice a bit rough and her posture everything but relaxed.

“I do, I wanna tell you and show you what I’ve been doing down here. Because it definitely wasn’t cheating, love” she tensed up even more at the nickname making you cringe. It was a habit after two years.

“Don’t call me that” was the only answer you received.

“Okay. Im sorry. Do you remember our mission 8 months ago? After you ended the red room and one of our enemies decided to- you know?”

“Yeah”

Flashback

“And what do you think the world would say about all of this, huh? Black widow. What would they say about your graduation ritual and the training you went through? What would she say?” He pointed at you. Before either of you could do anything, something was attached to both of your heads and suddenly you saw everything through Natasha’s eyes.

“Nooo, please don’t. Please!! I promise this won’t distract me” young Natasha screamed and suddenly you felt a sharp pain at your left cheek. The man had slapped you hard enough to make your head turn.

“You will sit through this and you’ll remember this pain every damn time you disobey me or get distracted” the man said and suddenly you were strapped to an O.R. Table, your stomach was cut open with barely any medication making you scream in pain. Somewhere there you blacked out from the pain. When you woke up again there was a jar in front of you, everything they pulled out of you was in that jar.

“You’re now a widow. This will remind you that you are nothing more than that” was the last thing you remembered before Steve finally saved you.

To say that the two of you weren’t okay after that for a while wasn’t a surprise to anyone. You hung onto each other, mostly staying in your room always having some kind of physical contact. There was a lot of crying, a lot sleeping and a lot of mental pain. After a while things went back to normal.

“What about that?” She finally asked, shaking the memory of the mission off.

“After that I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about what they took from you, about through how much pain you went and how broken you looked when you told me that you can’t have kids. Something you’ve always wished for” you had planed the whole speech for about a month now but you were still nervous and the fact that Natasha was mad at you didn’t make it easier.

“So what? You called me down here to make me live through all that again?” She hissed and you had to hold an eye roll back.

“No, I didn’t. And you remember when we had to foster that 6 year old girl 5 months ago?”

“Yeah, Mia. We kept her for 3 weeks, she was cute” the redhead said, looking at her feet.

“No matter how many times you’ve told me that you didn’t need to have kids and that you were fine I couldn’t help but not believe you. I want you to be happy and I would do everything for you which is why I was down here. Constantly.” You explained further hoping that she’d look at you again.

“And you thought cheating on me would make me happy?” You took a second to take a deep breath before you stretched out your hand.

“I didn’t cheat. Please give me the benefit of the doubt and let me show you. Please, I’ve been working on this for months, for you.”

Your pleading tone was what made her give in and carefully take your hand as you pulled her along to oke of your microscopes, gently pushing her in front of you. She took that as a sign to look into it as you stood behind her, one hand on her waist. “What am I looking at?” She asked rather bored, not having any interest in the scientific stuff at the moment.

“Something that will involve into this” you told her as you pulled her further into your lab where she saw a hologram from an uterus. “This is a “

“I know what this is y/n” this time she rolled her eyes as she looked at the hologram.

“You kinda do, but not really. This is a uterus I made, it’s made from Stem cells and I can plant it into anybody, there it can keep growing to the point where it is a part of them and they’ll be able to have kids. I mean right now I specified it to the way the red room removed them but I could change that. This might not fix the world but I hope that it will help thousands of women who had to suffer like you did. And I hope it helps you” your voice was shaky at the end of your monologue. To some it may have seemed as if you were just out of breath but the redhead knew you better, she knew that it were your emotions that got a hold of you.

“Wh-What does that mean?” She asked, her voice trembling and her eyes glossy as one hand rested on her stomach. The spy was anything but stupid so you knew that she got what you said but she just didn’t wanna believe it.

“It means that after the treatment you can be a mother, Natasha and I just know that you’ll be the best mom ever”

Silence. That’s all there was for a long moment. The second you realized that she wasn’t going to say something about it you took the turn you hoped you wouldn’t need. “I mailed Bruce the instructions so he can do the treatment with you. The first few days after the treatment you might be very emotional, so make sure the team is there for you or your future partner. Every detail is in the files, they’re under your name, the code is your birthday. If you don’t want Bruce to do it with you I left a document with names of people who would do it with you” you told her as you tapped on one of the tablets.

“More”

“What?” You asked as you tried to piece her word together with that she meant.

“Show me More” you nodded and led her to another corner of your lab.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. open Natasha 3.1 alpha” you told the A.I who immediately started. A picture of a blonde woman showing on one of the screens, her stomach showing a small bump. “This is Alia, she was a widow too, she escaped just like you. She wanted to have child for a while, but they didn’t let her adopt. Not everybody could wipe the blood out is what they told her, so I told her that I could try this on her, she could be the first one. She’s 4 months pregnant now and the baby looks awesome” you told her, watching her as she stared at the screen.

“How’d you find her?” Natasha asked as she skipped through the pictures you had of the woman, stopping at the ultrasound. Her mouth slightly ajar.

“Your mother hooked me up once I told her about my project” you explained walking to stand behind her slightly to the left so you could look over her shoulder.

“You talk to my mother?” You could see her surprised look through the screen making you chuckle.

“Yeah, I talk to your whole family”

“Even though they make fun of your Russian and are extremely exhausting?” She asked, slightly turning her head.

“Well, they’re important to you so that meant that they’re important to me too. And I hoped for them to become my family too one day so” you explained giving her a small smile as you stepped back. “F.R.I.D.A.Y Next please” you said as Natasha turned around to you.

Suddenly the room got darker and soft music started to play, better said Nats favorite music making you freeze.

“Congratulations on finally telling her miss y/l/n. Here are your things” F.R.I.D.A.Y presented the champagne, the chocolate, the flowers and a small ring box making Natasha’s heart skip a beat.

“No, F.R.I.D.A.Y. wrong document” you rushed out but the damage was already done as you saw Nat focus on the box. “I’m so sorry, I’ll get this out of your way. I didn’t plan it like this. Shit” you rambled and kicked a carton that was on the ground out of pure frustration.

“Y-you wanted to marry me?” She mumbled as she watched your back while you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Want” was the only thing you said as you turned to see the redhead with the box in her hand. “I wanted to marry you immediately after that mission 8 months ago just to reassure you that I wasn’t leaving but I thought that that might have given the wrong impression. I was scared that you would have felt pressured to say yes”

“You did all of this for me?” She asked still trying to comprehend everything that happened. You gave her a timid nod, shoving your hands in your front pockets. “And you didn’t stop once I broke up with you?” This time you shook your head no, with a small smile. “I’m an idiot aren’t I?” She asked with a sad smile. You shrugged before shaking your head no.

“No, no matter how good my intentions were I neglected you and made you feel bad about yourself, something I promised to never do so it’s on me. But if you let me I’d like to make it up to you” you couldn’t comprehend the fact that the spy was running into your arms full speed until your ass met the ground with her on top of you. She grinned down at you before pressing her lips to yours. “I’m guessing that’s an I can?” She nodded before kissing you again.

Once you were back on your feet you could see all the avengers and Sarah standing at your door. “Ask her” Sarah mumbled but you quickly shook your head making her frown. “Do it now, or I’ll do it for you” she threatened making you flip her off before getting the box.

“I know this might not be the best moment and I actually planned all of this very very differently but that doesn’t change that you’re the love of my life and no matter if you want a family or not, I want you for the rest of my life. Natasha Alianovna Romanoff will you marry me?” You asked after you got down on one knee in front of her. Her mouth hung open as you opened the box, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Yes, yes” she mumbled over and over again as she knocked you on the ground again causing everybody to laugh.

With a big smile you slid the ring on her finger and holding her hand up for your audience to see who applauded. “I love you Natasha” you mumbled into the kiss you had shared.

“I love you too”

———————————————————————————

The next day Nat got her treatment, Wanda holding her hand while you worked as careful as you could. You two decided that you’d get married, than help some widows and then you’d get pregnant and you couldn’t wait. Tony was nice enough to sponsor the whole project, ‘your wedding gift’ as he said. That was also the first time Nat hugged him.

“There, we are all done love” you said as you discarded your gloves and walked up to her to press a soft kiss to her lips.

“This is the beginning of the rest of our lives” she smiled at you making you grin. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with this woman.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“About Sarah…”

“You can keep her y/n, I get it I misinterpreted things” she grumbled as she cuddled into your arms making it clear that you were supposed to carry her upstairs.

You were already loving the clinginess that came with the treatment.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha x you

737 notes · View notes

deantfwinchester · 3 months

Text

Hands

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader as usual (let's just assume these No-Outbreak Joels are all the same couple tbh), established relationship

Summary: Friday nights are reserved for sweatpants and relaxation, of course. But when Joel's work week leaves his hands a bit worse for wear, the night may need to include a break for a little extra attention.

Warnings: extreme fluff once again. expect it at this point. i'm a one-trick pony, i fear.

A/N: finally got around to putting one of my many bulleted notes-app idea fics into paragraph form again! Will we get another one before the year's out? It's anyone's guess! -_-

——————

Friday nights are your favorites. No dinner to cook or rattling rolodex of tasks to come in the next twelve hours give you both a little room to breathe — to gently unwind from yourselves and into one another. It’s typically quiet, and when it isn’t, the volume is born of laughter from games or stories the three of you share.

Joel comes home from an exceptionally long week. You know he’s been on site every day—the whole team has—working longer and longer hours to wrap up the latest project before the client’s deadline. You’re pleased to hear his keys rattle in the door not long after five o’clock, and relieved because the air’s rapidly cooling earlier each night. Daylight Savings time is coming to an end, and today he barely beat the sunset getting home.

You know the hour means little, however, and are less than astonished at the weary grin he bears on catching sight of you and Sarah on the couch when he walks in the room. She’s already got her purse on her shoulder, eager to head out when her friends arrive, and she’s excitedly recounting the events of the trailer for the movie they’ll be catching tonight. He stands idly in the doorway for a moment, just listening to the two of you chat. You make brief eye contact and smile back, assuring you know he’s there. Neither of you wants to interrupt her avid storytelling.

“Well don’t you sound excited?” he says when she pauses to catch her breath. You both turn to greet him, and he moves more quickly toward you as you attempt to rise, gesturing to you to remain seated. He’ll come to you both.

He plants a kiss on top of Sarah’s head before leaning down to kiss you as he does each night. You place a hand on his chest and pause when he pulls back to get a good look at his face. You see the fatigue in his droopy-eyed smile, but can’t say anything to him. You already know it’s mirrored in your own expression.

The doorbell rings before either of you can speak again, and Sarah jumps up to head out the door. You wish her a good night, and he follows her to the door, checking for a familiar parent in the driver’s seat and seeing her off. You see him hand her some cash to go with his reminder to make good decisions, and he hugs her. You can’t help but giggle when she takes it with a wide smile.

He turns to you laughing when he sees she’s in the car, and shuts the door.

“What?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion, but amused at the sound of your laughter.

“Smart girl. I gave her a 20 before you got home,” you grin back at him. He stills in understanding and rolls his eyes.

“You couldn’t tell me that two minutes ago?” he asks you in mock exasperation.

“But it’s so much funnier this way!” you add, giggling again. You both know he’s wrapped completely around her finger, though she so innocently does not. It’s one of the first things you noticed about him. One of the first reasons you fell in love.

He shakes his head fondly, and places a hand on his stomach, which begins to grumble softly at him. You raise your eyebrows and meet his gaze. “Any thoughts on dinner?” he asks, and you grin back at him in amusement.

“Handled. Pizza’s already on the way,” you respond and he feigns relief.

“You’re brilliant.” he says, walking up and grabbing your hand on the back of the couch. You run your thumb in little circles on the back of his hand and give it a light squeeze.

“Duh. Now go get changed! It’s do-nothing time starting now,” you respond, patting the top of his hand in encouragement.

“You read my mind,” he says, leaning down for another quick peck before heading off into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Naturally, you’ve been in sweats for over an hour now, shedding your own outfit immediately, peeling the school day from your skin. The unspoken uniform for these Friday nights is extremely specific.

The pizza arrives before Joel can even return from the bedroom in a feat of incredible timing. You’re gathering plates and filling glasses with ice when he emerges ready for the night. He moves forward to help you grab the dinner, but you shoo him away to the couch.

“Nope, I got this. You sit,” you say, lightly shoving his chest away. You leave no room for argument. He grumbles a bit and raises his hands, backing away to the living room. You follow behind him with the pizza and plates, and return once more for the drinks before settling next to him on the couch. He sits on one end, and you sit in the middle, leaving little room between you.

You lean forward, putting pizza on one plate you pass to Joel before grabbing your own, then settle back against the cushion, both sinking in so comfortably a nearly audible sigh fills the room. The comfort in this relief is palpable, and the decompressing can begin. You grab the remote and put on the series you’ve been binging together recently, more for background noise than anything else.

A few slices and sitcom episodes deep, you’ve set your plates down on the coffee table. With your bellies comfortably full, you’ve somehow slumped deeper, though Joel into the couch and you into his side. His arm is draped over the back of the couch behind you, and you’re nearly laying on him, head propped against his shoulder.

You hold his free hand in both of yours and absently play with his fingers for a second when you notice the aggressive wear this week has lent his hands. They’re a raw, angry red at the knuckles; his nails are cracked in some places and peeling in others. Moving your fingers gently down toward his wrist, you focus more directly on the state of his, catching sight of a few hangnails and stretched cuticles that can’t be comfortable. He looks down as you begin to worry them beneath the soft pads of your own fingers, and you meet his gaze, brows furrowed as you look between his face and hands.

“Keep doing that, please,” he says with a sigh before closing his eyes, “I wait all day to feel your hands on mine. They’re so soft.” He lifts your hand to his lips before pressing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. He loves the delicate, reverent way you play with his hands, like they’re small, fragile things in need of tender attention. You take his hand once again into both of yours and gently rub it between them, looking back up at him, concerned.

“How do yours feel? They look like they’re hurting you,” you gnaw a bit at your bottom lip in thought, and he tries to assuage your worry.

“I’m alright, darlin’. Nothing worse than I’m used to,” he says. He knows from your deepening frown that you’re less than satisfied with this response.

You couldn’t care less if he’s used to it, he shouldn’t be. You know the protective callouses forged there don’t mean those hands are unfeeling in the slightest.

“Wait there. I’ll be right back,” you say, rising from his side and hastening to the bedroom. It’s his turn to frown now, both in confusion and at the sudden draft that’s appeared at his side.

You return not a minute later with a small tote around your wrist, and hands filled with half the manicure items you own. You sit down next to him and unpack, laying clippers, files, cuticle oil, and two different hand creams — a lotion he’s seen you use regularly, and a jar that must be a new addition — on the coffee table in front of you, along with the selected polishes and remover you had in the tote bag. You’ve been meaning to do your nails, anyway.

Joel looks incredulously at you, unsure where this is going. Not that he’s a stranger to nail polish — he raised a little girl on his own long enough to have worn the rainbow on his fingers, but tonight?

“Sorry, no color for you today, honey. Certainly not before these are healed,” you say. He’d chip half your handiwork away by Monday afternoon anyway the way he’s been working lately. Facing him, you cross your legs on the couch and smile, holding your hand out expectantly for his. He raises his eyebrows at you, but places his palm gently in your own.

You grab the clippers and get to work on the hangnails first. Any peeling skin or cuticle right there at the nail you clip as gently as possible, making note of the reddened and slightly swollen areas at the base of his nail from which they protrude. Those will need careful attention at the end. He doesn’t squirm or react in any way, but you know they’re more sensitive than he’s letting on.

Next, you clip back any breakages and unevenness in the nails themselves. You’d never find Joel Miller with dirty hands — he gets them clean as soon as he gets home, but all the scrubbing it takes to keep them that way takes its toll. A little trim at their length might help reduce the need for so much each day upon his return.

After clipping, you grab his first hand again and rest it gently in the palm of your left while your right files steadily to even any rough edges left behind and prevent further injury. It won’t take much, but you’re sure to get them smooth so they won’t catch on anything or bother him later on.

The cuticle oil is next. He looks at it questioningly, clearly a bit skeptical, only having seen it a few times when you or Sarah used it. He’s never ventured so far himself. While you brush it gently onto each of his nails, you explain its purpose.

“This’ll just help your nails get a little stronger. It’ll get them hydrated a bit, keep ‘em from peeling so much when your hands get dry. It’s kinda crazy how much better this stuff is for your nails than even water is. Water’ll make the peeling worse, actually. Weird, huh?”

He just nods along, listening to you, content to learn something new as always. Finger by finger, you massage the oil into his nail and nail bed. After the first round you go back through to massage again, both to make sure no oily feeling is left behind, and to prolong the rapidly concluding process. He could use the attention, anyway.

Finally, you pick up the jar he identified as a new addition: a canister of a hand repair cream labeled for “Healing of dry or cracked skin.”

“Never seen that one before,” he says, reading the label, “What d’ya need this for? Your hands are never dry! I think they’ve been soft every time I’ve held 'em since the day I met ya,” he smiles at you, and you bashfully brush off the compliment.

“I don’t need it. I use the other one,” you say with finality, opening the jar and pulling the first of his hands into yours. You don’t grab a large dollop of the stuff. You don’t want him to feel a disconcerting weight, grease, or stickiness from this unfamiliar formula, so you get a little and begin. You add a bit more each time you reach a new spot on his knuckles, palms, wrists.

You take your time, gently massaging into those roughened, tender hands far more than a simple healing salve. He understands why you have the jar now, looking at you knowingly, and you smile back. No words need be exchanged.

Once you’ve finished the last finger and the last stroke on his hands, you squeeze the one in your own, then pat it gently with your other, “There. Gotta feel better now, yeah?”

Joel stares at you like he just watched you reach up and place the moon in the sky, if for no reason other than to light his path.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Thank you sweetheart,” he says, squeezing your hand back and smiling reverently at you. You blush beneath his gaze and look away, unsure what to do with the admiration rolling off of him in waves. You lean back against the couch, file in hand as you start going at your own nails.

“Good. Don’t let 'em go that long again, either. Where they start hurtin’ ya? Maybe we oughta make this a weekly thing. Manicure night? Been needing someone to do my right hand,” you grin, wiggling the corresponding fingers at him. He smiles back at you, then reaches over and pulls you toward his side, back to your original position laying against him, head resting once again on his shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says fondly into your hair, planting a kiss to your head in the process. You get comfortable once more, foregoing any plans to do your own nails tonight. You both know those “manicure nights” will be for him — and you’ve got Sarah to do your right hand already, when you do hers.

You grab the same free hand once again and admire your work, then lace your fingers between his own, and rest your twined hands on his leg. You’re satisfied knowing the hand behind you on the couch is comfortable now, healing from the week’s toils and melting into the comforting haze of the early autumn evening.

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violetasteracademic · 2 months

Text

The bonus chapter that ended Nessian

This is honestly really surprising to me. Apparently there are people out there that think Nesta and Cassian are going to end up together. Have they not read their bonus chapter? SJM effectively ended them.

First of all, the way they think about each other is not romantic at all:

Cassian has no idea where he stands with her, and as you can see, he is so unhealthily obsessed with Nesta that he can't stop thinking about her and literally rushed to interact with her even though she doesn't even like him and is mean to him! If Sarah wanted this be be romantic, she could have made totally different choices. We could have learned they shared secret touches or looks, have their fingers trembling or breath catching around each other. But no, just confusion and unhealthy obsession on Cassian's part. Honestly, he kinda seems like an incel here.

Worse than that, it's clear he obviously only lusts after her:

He literally has not said one thing about her personality! He's just weirdly obsessed with her boobs and her scent and is just thinking about her stroking him. If we were supposed to have gleaned he has real feelings for her, and not just lust, couldn't Sarah have added something more sweet and personal here? I don't know. Maybe he could have brought her a thoughtful present that shows how much he sees and understands her when no one else does. But no. He just wants to get laid and touch her boobs. Honestly, ugh.

And let's not even get started about the Mor thing!

Cassian slept with Mor because he was jealous of Azriel! And if you recall, in ACOMAF Morrigan said Cassian just wants what he can't have and it has driven Cassian crazy for centuries that Mor never wanted him again after they slept together once. Rhys confirms this too.

Nesta clearly is not interested in Cassian. In fact, she knees him in the balls right after this. Honestly? This actually seems like a really toxic perpetuation of the Mor situation. Cassian yet again wants what he can't have, and it is actually in the canon text that he has this problem. Also, notice that he's ashamed of this situation and embarrassed to tell Mor about it? That's not a very good setup for a romance. He should have the full support of his friends and family in order for Nessian to work.

He calls himself stupid, he knows it's wrong, he just doesn't care for a moment because of the lust. Again, Nesta knees him in the balls. Not interested. Take a hint you creepy incel! And even though he was fully planning on devouring her lips, he is clearly not anymore!

But here's the real nail in the coffin:

Nesta forbids him from coming back. She threatens that she'll scream if he does and she is only willing to work with and talk to anyone but him. How is he supposed to get around that? How is their relationship supposed to develop if he is forbidden from talking to her and seeing her? I just don't understand how this is supposed to resolve in the books. At least hundreds, if not a few thousand of the tens or hundreds of thousands of SJM readers have read this bonus chapter. There's no way to come back from this.

Also- did you notice in ACOFAS Nessian's same drama is still playing out, but SJM interestingly enough introduces a character named Emerie and they have a scene together? Seems like SJM is clearly telling us Nessian isn't happening and setting up a new love interest for Cassian. Based on their limited interactions, it's actually really obvious to me that they are a much better fit and there is already a ton of foreshadowing that they are endgame. In fact, I think they are mates!

I swear this has nothing to do with the fact that I dislike Nesta. I mean, do I dislike her, and do I think Cassian deserves better? Yeah. But that's not relevant here. What's relevant is text and foreshadowing and the fact that I don't like Nesta and think Cassian deserves better because I've self inserted myself into Sarah's writing and want her to do what I want and I don't want Archeron sisters I don't like winding up with a bat boy I love.

Wait no... Ignore that second part I didn't mean to type that out.

#elriel #pro elriel #just being silly #i actually love all the sisters and bat boys this is just satire!#elriel endgame #elriel month 2024

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mothandpidgeon · 5 months

Text

Homecoming (Joel Miller x f!reader x Frankie Morales)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader x Frankie Morales, no outbreak!Joel Miller

Summary: Frankie asks his neighbor to keep an eye on things while he's in South America.

“I think that’s what he wants,” Joel finally speaks. His voice is low and dark, his eyes narrow. He’s talking to you but he’s looking right at Frankie. “I think when he asked me to look after you, he was hoping to come home to that. To see his woman treated right by another man. Tell me I ain’t right.”

Words: 5.6k

Rating: E 18+

Warnings: Frankie has to watch, he likes it, cuckolding, dom Joel, oral sex, voyeurism, orgasm denial, hand job, mentions of Frankie's addiction, toxic relationship, Frankie kind of sucks (canon, I said what I said), Joel steal your girl Miller (I'm sure I forgot some, let me know!)

a/n: I'll be honest, I don't see how Frankie was coming home to anything other than divorce papers after leaving his lady with a new baby (suggesting other babies!?) and giving all of his money away. Let's torment him!

As always thanks to @ezrasbirdie for the beta. Consider this my toxic Catalyst verse.

MASTERLIST - follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

Frankie drums his fingers on his thigh. Flight leaves in an hour and he’s thinking about the front door.

He should be thinking about this gig. It’s risky as hell. If things go sideways, they’ll be completely fucked in the jungle with a narco on their ass. The money’s good but there are a hundred ways it could get hairy.

But you had a bad habit of leaving the front door unlocked. You’d done it just the day before when you picked the baby up from daycare.

“Christ, Frankie. My hands were full, ok?” you said when he mentioned it.

“Just don’t forget while I’m gone. You’ll be alone with the kids and I don’t want the house to be wide open,” he said.

“If you’re so worried about us, don’t go,” you said.

You’d given him a raft of shit about it. Leaving you with a baby and a three year old and no help.

“You promised me you were done doing stupid shit,” you said.

He’s promised you a lot of things.

You’re still so pissed that when he kissed Franny and the baby goodbye, you barely acknowledged he was leaving.

Which means if something does happen, you’ll never forgive him. He’s biting on the side of his thumb when he reaches for his phone.

…I’m going out of town for a bit but I’d feel a lot better if you’d just keep an eye on things…

He shoots the text off to his neighbor. Frankie doesn’t know him all that well—they’ve shared some beers at backyard barbecues— but he’s a good guy. His daughter babysits Franny all the time. Frankie feels a little better. At least you’ll be safe while he’s not there.

—

When Joel sees you a few days after he gets the text from Frankie, he knows you’re going through it.

You’re juggling a diaper bag, keys, and a water bottle while trying to lug the car seat up the front walk. The humidity isn’t doing anything kind to your hair and he’s pretty sure he saw you wearing the same yoga pants and oversized t-shirt the day before. Your daughter is whining about something he can’t quite make out from his driveway. She hovers around you doing dramatic, exasperated stomps.

He remembers Sarah at that age. It was hard enough to be a single parent to one, he can’t imagine how you’re doing it with two even if it’s just temporary.

Joel has to admit, he’d be looking over at you even if Frankie hadn’t asked. He likes you. You always ask about Sarah and even remember her birthday. When she stays late babysitting, you stand at the door and watch to make sure she gets in safe even though she’s just crossing the yard. And he’ll admit it, you’re attractive. He knows you’re spoken for but he can’t help the way his eyes linger when you’re bent over the back seat vacuuming up cheerios.

“Maybe when daddy gets back,” Joel hears you say. You’re out of breath but trying to keep a light air in your voice.

“But when is he coming home?” she complains.

The little girl tugs on your arm and the carefully balanced tower in your hand topples to the ground, the bottle making an especially loud clang that sets the baby off crying.

“Franny!” you snap.

“I didn’t mean to,” Franny says.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. Joel watches your chest rise and fall, one deep breath to collect yourself. He imagines that you’re counting to ten in your head as he’s done a thousand times.

“I know, mija,” you say.

You run a hand over your messy hair and begin collecting your keys from the grass. Joel’s sure you’re on the edge of tears.

“You need a hand?” he calls over.

You’re startled when you look over at him. Maybe you’d been so focused on getting everybody into the house, you hadn’t even noticed he was in his yard. Your brows knit together and it looks like you’ve been clenching your jaw for hours. Finally, your shoulders lower slightly and Joel feels like he’s lifted the weight right off of you just by asking.

“Yeah, actually,” you say.

—

Motherhood is torture. Even on the good days. You’re covered in spit up and boogers and sticky lollipop sugar. Your eyes are ringed from sleep deprivation. Most meals are the sandwich crusts Franny refuses to eat.

But what really gets to you is the noise. Franny is a chatterbox, the baby is always at an 11, and the house is full of plastic toys that each play a series of increasingly infuriating songs. Even the white noise machine feels like taking a cheese grater to your ears.

It’s not so bad when you can share the load. But Frankie’s gone. He’s been gone more and more often. A stint in rehab. Pounding the pavement for a new job. Now off with Pope and the guys being weekend warriors. You’ve lost count of the number of second chances you’ve given him.

You’re just about to lose your shit when Joel calls over to you. He’s a godsend. He carries the carseat into the house for you and has Sarah come over to help keep Franny entertained. He insists you take a shower– something you haven’t had time to do in three days– and when you come back into the kitchen, you nearly burst into tears when you see he’s done the dishes.

The kids are in bed now and Sarah’s gone back next door to do homework. Joel sets grilled cheese sandwiches on the table for the two of you and you give him one of Frankie’s beers.

“A little crispy,” Joel says as way of apology for the bread that’s absolutely blackened. “Cooking’s not really my thing.”

“That’s ok. It’s just nice to have someone else do it for a change,” you say. “Thanks again. And Sarah too. She’s a good kid.”

“She is.” Joel smiles to himself.

“You raised her right,” you say and his blush is so handsome.

He’s older than Frankie but just as good looking. Strong arms, narrow waist. The light over the kitchen table picks up all the gray hairs around his temples. He’s definitely not hard to look at after a long day.

Eventually it comes up.

“So where’s your man off to?” Joel asks innocently enough.

“Fuck if I know,” you grumble. You don’t want to think about him, not now in this nice moment. You weren’t pretending to play house with Joel but you didn’t mind forgetting about Frankie for an hour or two. “Maybe he‘ll do us a favor and stay there.”

You don’t mean it. Years of putting up with his crap has made you bitter, downright mean.

“He asked me to check in on you while he was gone,” Joel says.

“He did?” you ask and he nods. “I wish you hadn’t told me that.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because every time I decide I’m done with him, he does something sweet and I lose my nerve.”

Joel’s quiet. Probably doesn’t know how to respond to such a personal bombshell when he was just making small talk.

“Sorry. You don’t want to hear my business.”

“Did I say that?” Joel asks.

You sigh. His eyes are so kind and you’re so goddamn tired.

“He told me three days before that he was going. Doing some Rambo shit with his boys. He said it was going to pay well and I can’t argue with him there because we need the money because he lost his job. Drugs. I couldn’t even call my sister and ask for her help this week because I was so embarrassed. You know how many times she’s told me to dump his ass? And I should, you know. I’ve got nobody to blame but myself.”

By now, you can feel tears coming. You’re so angry with Frankie and you’re mad at yourself. You can’t imagine what Joel must think— that you’re an idiot, that you’re weak.

But he cups your chin in his big hand. He’s got a deep crease between his eyebrows and, the way he’s looking at you, you feel like someone’s seeing you for the first time in years. “That’s not true. You don’t deserve any of that.”

The air feels thick between you and you feel so fucking grateful for the words he’s just said.

You kiss him, practically falling into his lips. He’s been so damn good to you and it’s been so long since you’ve felt taken care of. And he kisses you back. He pulls you into him. His thumb strokes your cheek and he opens his mouth to you. You can taste the beer on his tongue and it’s familiar. You’ve tasted it a thousand times on Frankie.

You realize what you’re doing. You’re sick of Frankie’s shit but he’s still your partner, the father of your children. Maybe this is really the last straw and you’ll finally end it with him but you haven’t yet. You’ve always considered yourself the better person, the bigger one, who put the kids first and doesn’t keep secrets. You don’t get to act all morally superior if you’re cheating on Frankie.

You break away and slap a hand over your mouth.

“Fuck. Shit. I’m sorry,” you say.

“No. That’s alright.” Joel’s blinking like he’s trying to make sense of what just happened. “My fault. I came on too strong there. You’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to take advantage.”

“I want to but I shouldn’t,” you tell him. You’ve never felt so mixed up in your life. “I guess I’ve got some thinking to do.”

Joel stands. “Listen, why don’t I get out of here. You can go to bed early.”

You’re mortified. He’s practically running away because you’re acting like a maniac. This man was kind to you for a minute and you blew it.

“Sorry again. Thank you,” you add as an afterthought.

He lingers in the doorway.

“Why don’t I bring Sarah back tomorrow if you’re still needing help? Promise I can keep my hands to myself,” he says with a little chuckle. “Unless…maybe you just want Sarah?” He’s jiggling his hand nervously.

You feel the faintest relief. You want him to come back. Not just for kissing purposes. He made you feel less alone.

“That’s be great. Both of you,” you say.

He gives you a sweet smile before leaving you to bury your face in your hands.

—

Frankie knows what to expect when he gets back. When he finally got cell service, you’d sent it his call straight to voicemail. He couldn’t blame you. He’d all but disappeared. And now he was returning home with nothing to show for it.

It’s not like this is the first time. He’s slept on Will and Benny’s couch more than once, come home to an empty house with a note on the kitchen table that you took Franny to your friend’s place. Don’t call until you get your shit together.

He’s got a whole speech in his head that he’s been thinking about for days. He wishes that he could tell you how close he’d come to death and how much he wants to turn things around but even he knows how hollow those words sound. This time he’s going to make it up to you.

It’s dark when he gets in. The house is quiet. He’s nervous again, jingling his keys in his hand. You’re sitting at the kitchen table which means he’s in deep shit. He’s ready to launch into his monologue but Frankie’s thrown off when he sees his neighbor sitting beside you.

“Is everything ok?” he asks, eyes darting between you and your guest. His mind immediately goes to the darkest places, worse things than the failure of your relationship.

“No, Frankie,” you say.

“Did something happen to the baby?” Adrenaline floods him for what must be the millionth time since he last stood in this room.

You sigh. “The kids are fine. They’re next door. Sarah’s watching them.”

“Oh.”

There’s a long pause where Frankie tries to recollect everything he was going to tell you, all of the promises he’d really keep this time. All he can think about is the fact that Joel’s sitting there looking at him like he’s a piece of shit. Frankie pushes up the brim of his hat to rub his forehead.

“Do I have to say it?” you ask. You look as exhausted as he feels. “I can’t do this any more.”

“I know,” Frankie says.

The guilt has made his throat go dry. He’s fucked up so many things. He remembers the last time you were sitting there, the little bag of white powder you’d found in his jacket resting on the table.

“You said you were extending the trip. I haven’t heard from you in a week,” you go on.

“Can we talk about this alone, baby?” he asks.

“No I don’t think so,” you tell him.

It’s hard enough to face the fact that he’s five minutes from losing you with without someone gawking. He shifts awkwardly.

“Can you give us a minute, man?” Frankie tries.

“Stay,” you tell Joel.

You put your hand on his upper arm and Frankie feels sick. He can tell just by that touch that Joel’s not just your shoulder to cry on. It boils in his gut.

“You’re going to do this in front of a stranger?” Frankie asks. It comes out louder than he meant. He’s got no business being angry. Not when he drove you away. But it’s suddenly not so easy to own up to his own failures.

“Frankie,” you say, level and quiet.

Joel crosses his arms and it feels like a warning. If Frankie doesn’t get his emotions in check, he will. Frankie’s almost tempted to test him. It would feel good to get hit.

“What’s this? Did you fuck him?” he asks.

Frankie wants to hear you say yes, to feel the knife slide in and twist.

“I didn’t,” you snap back. “But I wish I had.” You look like you want to stuff them back into your mouth but you raise your chin defiantly.

The words rattle around in Frankie’s ears. It hurts just the way he thought it would, imagining you spread out over this man’s lap.

There’s another feeling, too. He can’t name it. There’s a place where jealousy turns into violence but somehow it’s taken a left turn to self loathing. You deserve to have someone to make you feel good and Frankie, well, he’s hitting rock bottom again.

Frankie’s glaring at him but his breath shallows. The gravel in Joel’s voice goes straight to his groin. It’s twisted and he ought to punch Joel right in the mouth. Instead he’s frozen in place wondering why the blood is rushing to his cock.

Joel stands lazily and takes two steps to cross the distance between them. His eyes travel up Frankie’s body, slow, dangerous, until he meets his gaze. He’s mere inches away, close enough that Frankie can smell the clean scent of his soap.

“Tell me I ain’t right,” Joel says.

—

You’re on your feet in a flash to pull Joel away before they can come to blows but then you spy the growing bulge in Frankie’s pants. Your eyes go wide. Suddenly you're flooded with arousal though you can’t explain why. It should piss you off but you can’t help but imagine the look on his face if he’d walked in on you riding Joel in his own bed. You want to see it.

Before a cooler head prevails, you’re pulling Joel by the hand down the hall to your bedroom.

“What the hell are you doing?” Frankie asks, following behind.

“Looks like you’re getting your wish,” Joel says.

Frankie stands there gaping but he doesn’t do anything to stop you.

“You can stay there and watch or you can leave,” you tell him. That last word has a heavy finality to it. This isn’t like the other times when you took him back. He’s not coming home again.

Frankie says nothing, just shuts his mouth.

“You want to do this, sweetheart?” Joel asks. His tone is gentle.

You’re breathless. You’ve been fantasizing about fucking Joel since he swooped in and saved you. Behind Frankie’s back, maybe, not right in front of his face. But you want him to see, to know exactly what he lost each time he fucked up. You want to punish him.

“Yes,” you say and your eyes fall on Frankie.

His expression is a strange mixture of hunger and melancholy. Those sweet brown eyes are always what make you take him back no matter how much he’s hurt you.

“Pretend he’s not here,” Joel says, guiding your face back to him with his fingertips.

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” you say. It feels so good to be cruel.

“Good girl.”

His praise makes your mouth twitch into a smile.

“Tell him to take his clothes off,” you say.

Joel’s brows tick up.

“You heard her. Show her how hard you got,” he says.

“You fucking kidding?” Frankie asks but his words are toothless.

“You can go right now,” you say.

Frankie’s jaw shifts, grinding his molars. As he hesitates, Joel grabs the brim of his hat and pulls it off of Frankie’s curls. He examines the old thing with disinterest, then tosses it to the floor.

“Strip,” he demands.

The command makes you clench.

Joel turns his attention back to you once Frankie’s reluctantly begun to work at the buttons of his shirt. He brushes your cheekbone with the back of his knuckles, the pad of his thumb on your lips.

“Been thinking about kissing you since the other day,” he tells you.

His lips brush against yours, his nose nuzzling your cheek. The prickle of his mustache makes you gasp.

“Went home and thought about doing more than kissing you,” he says.

Your cheeks heat. He gives you a good, proper kiss now, pulling you in with a hand on your waist. It’s deep and slow, practically romantic though you’re in a situation that feels quite the opposite. Either way, you’re left swooning a little, tangling your fingers into his full hair so your knees don't buckle.

Frankie’s completely bare and Joel glances in his direction. His eyebrows lift momentarily when he catches sight of Frankie’s erection then he scoffs quietly and goes back to kissing you. He gets his hands under your shirt and slides it over your head.

You can feel Frankie’s eyes dancing over the two of you. You crack yours open to look at him while you let Joel’s tongue into your mouth. It’s like he’s watching a car crash and he can’t look away— horrified, exhilarated, disgusted. It feels as sinful as Joel’s mouth traveling down your neck.

You want Frankie to know just how badly you want this so you snake your hand down to palm at Joel’s cock straining against his jeans. He’s big, more than a handful. Joel groans against your collar bone. Frankie winces.

Joel’s touch leaves goosebumps on your skin. He trails his fingers down your chest and teases around the fabric of your bra. You unhook it and toss it aside then wriggle out of your pants. He lets out a low hum at the sight of you exposed.

“I’d hate to be the man that let this gorgeous thing get away,” Joel says.

He cups your breast, then puts his mouth to it. His teeth graze against your nipple and you hear Frankie hiss before you do.

Joel sits down on the bed, the one you’ve shared with Frankie for years, and draws you down to his lips. As he kisses you, his forefingers notch in the waistband of your panties and drags them down painfully slowly. He’s drawing it out for his audience, inch by inch before dropping them to the floor. His eyes look over the newly revealed flesh hungrily. The heat of his gaze and Frankie’s longing stare has you slick and needy.

Joel turns you around and sits you between his legs. He pulls you into his chest and spreads your legs wide, putting you on display for Frankie. His fingers strum at you, feather light and your hips buck.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

“Sensitive,” he says.

His stubble bites into your shoulder as he continues to touch you, carefully, finding the spots that make you melt. You tip your head back into him, tuck your face into the crook of his neck as you begin to lose yourself to pleasure. He smells so good— earthy and fresh and masculine. You want his scent all over your sheets.

“Come here. On your knees,” Joel commands.

Frankie swears under his breath but he obeys, kneeling in front of you, his nostrils flaring as he watches you writhe under Joel’s touch.

“Open up,” Joel says and swats at Frankie’s cheek.

It doesn’t seem like he used much force but still you say, “Don’t hurt him.”

None of the scars you have from Frankie are physical.

“That’s okay,” Frankie mumbles.

You’re surprised by him once again. He wants it, the full force of this torture.

“Yeah. She’s too nice to you,” Joel tells him.

He sticks two thick fingers into Frankie’s mouth, so deep that he gags. Joel returns them to your pussy, sliding one inside. The stretch pulls a dreamy sigh from you as the heel of his hand creates unbelievable friction against your clit.

Frankie’s eyes are riveted to the spot where Joel’s finger disappears inside of you.

“Hey,” Joel barks.

You look past the edge of the bed to see Frankie’s hand over his dick, thumb brushing down its length. It’s glazed in strands of precum, desperate.

“Hold on, beautiful,” Joel says, kissing your neck and removing his hand. He shifts around you on the bed and stands up.

“Do you think ought to be doing that?” Joel asks.

You bite down on your lip at the sight of him towering over Frankie, fully clothed while the other man shrinks beneath him like a scolded puppy.

“Next time you want to touch yourself, think about how you wronged this woman.”

Frankie makes a choked sound and he looks up at you with an apology in his eyes. Your first impulse is to go to him, comfort him, but then you remember why you’re here— the litany of fuck ups you’ve had to suffer. The nights you were home with the baby while Frankie went to Benny’s fights. The money that went up his nose. The excuses you made for him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. He’ll make it up to you. You know what she likes?” Joel asks him.

Frankie nods.

“Show me.”

Frankie moves slowly like he’s worried Joel’s trying to trick him. He puts his lips to you, tongue rounding your clit in the way that always drives you wild. Your head falls back with a long, slow release of breath. There’s no denying how good those luscious strokes feel. If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s Frankie disappointing you and then giving you a mind blowing orgasm as penance.

As you rock your hips up towards his mouth, he starts to work faster like his life depends on it. Little grunts escape him and the sensation mounts, muscles tensing.

“Joel,” you whine as if he’s the one that’s making your legs begin to shake.

Frankie falters for just a second upon hearing the other man’s name. Though he lost that perfect rhythm, knowing you’ve hit him again makes up for it.

You go inwards, focusing all of your attention on the heat at your core, sure that you’ll break at any moment.

Suddenly, he’s gone and you gasp, your high stolen away. You look up to see Joel holding Frankie back by the scruff of his neck.

“You don’t get to make her cum,” Joel says.

If you were disappointed, Frankie looks absolutely devastated to be parted from you. His face is screwed up in torment, his glistening lower lip turned down in a frown.

Joel casts him aside and takes his place between your thighs.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, hooking his forearms around your open thighs.

His strokes are different but it feels just as dizzying. You close your eyes and lay back again, melting into his wet mouth. He hums against your lips and you feel it vibrate through your whole body. It’s been such a long time since you’ve felt something wholly different, the newness makes everything you experience heightened.

It’s not long before your ass is lifting off the sheets, panting and absolutely coming undone. Your tightening around nothing, your legs threatening to snap shut around Joel’s ears.

You’ve completely forgotten about Frankie in this moment of bliss. Especially when Joel says, “That’s my girl. Deserve to feel like that all the time.”

He kisses the crease of your thigh and up your belly, putting his lips to every inch of you.

“You look beautiful, darlin’. Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

“Yeah.” Frankie’s throat sounds dry like he just crossed a desert.

A blissful smile softens your face.

You roll into Joel’s chest and tug on his belt loops, grinding his hips against you. The denim is deliciously rough against your swollen clit and you can feel a damp spot. He wants you.

“Get these off so you can fuck me,” you say.

Joel chuckles. “Needy girl.”

He gets up and you see Frankie at the foot of the bed, helpless. You know him well enough to understand that look in his eye that’s begging you not to go all the way. You’ve made your point. Mercy.

You arch an eyebrow. Does he really think he’s paid the price?

—

All of the muscles in Frankie’s legs burn. His knees ache. It’s his ego that’s taking a beating.

He doesn’t have to sit here and watch this. In fact, he probably could’ve stopped this before it even began. But he hasn’t moved an inch. There’s part of him that knows he deserves this torment, another part that enjoys it. So he stays there watching you from a wholly new perspective.

“What’s her favorite position?” Joel asks as he shucks off his pants.

You’re watching him strip down eagerly, licking your lips like some kind of hungry beast. You used to look at him like that.

“She likes it from behind,” Frankie admits.

Joel’s eyebrows raise and he looks at you for confirmation. You can’t help but giggle.

“Filthy little thing,” Joel says.

Frankie’s always thought that too. You drove him wild with the dirty things you asked for. You’d get him hard under the table at the bar, pull him into the bathroom at Will’s place for a quickie. Things haven’t been like that between you for a long time, though.

Frankie’s eyes rake over Joel’s naked form. His arms are muscular and tan, well built for a man in his 50s. Well endowed, too. He doesn’t want to look but how can he stop himself from comparing his own cock to the one that’s about to fuck you? He doesn’t want to think about the way his mouth waters either.

“Frankie, you got a condom?” Joel calls.

“I’m on the pill,” you tell him. “You can cum in me.”

Frankie’s stomach turns but the desire twists in his belly. He can’t wait to be put out of his misery.

“Fuck,” Joel growls.

You get on all fours for Joel, ass up in the air, tits swaying just the way Frankie likes. You’re about eye level with him so he’s right there with you when Joel pushes inside of you. You moan, so pretty, and your face strains at the pressure. It’s such an obscene sight— only problem is that he’s not the one giving it to you. His cock still responds, twitching with need. He hates it and he loves it.

Joel’s swearing, gritting his teeth. His fingers dimple the flesh around your hips with a strong grip. Frankie knows exactly how exquisite it feels to be inside you, surrounded by warm velvet. He wants to be the one who’s hips, thighs are fucking against you, splitting you open and making you shake.

Instead he has to watch. Watch your back arch. Listen to that succulent squelch where your bodies meet. Savor the taste of you still on his tongue.

And because he wants to touch himself and he’s good at following a command, he thinks about all the times he’s forgotten your anniversary or gotten high before Thanksgiving dinner. It hurts and it feels so good.

When Joel finishes, he spares Frankie by not doing it inside of you. But Frankie has to see him paint your ass with it, marking you as you touch yourself and whine.

It stings. You’ve been looking at him like a cockroach and he’s so fucking turned on it’s painful. He’s still throbbing, surprised he hasn’t yet burst from hearing you cum. His cock is swollen, leaking and slick.

He’s obediently waiting, biting on his lip so hard that he can practically taste blood. Each moment of torment only intensifies the pleasure.

You’re glowing now, laid out on your side, chest still heaving. Joel’s caging you between his arms, kissing your jaw as you rake your fingers through his hair. He glances at Frankie like he just remembered that he’s there.

“How does he look?” Joel asks.

“Pathetic,” you say, still out of breath, and give a little laugh.

It makes him ache.

You stretch your arms over your head luxuriously

and sigh. “Let him cum.”

Frankie lets out a whimper. You’ve always been so generous with him. You’ve been patient and loved him when he’s made it so damn difficult. He’s never deserved you and he doesn’t deserve to get this release. But fuck he’s never needed it more.

“You do it,” you tell Joel with a mischievous smile.

He shakes his head with a laugh.

Frankie swallows thickly when Joel approaches him. He takes Frankie’s chin in his hand, the pad of his thumb grazing against his stubble. From his place on the floor, Frankie can smell you on him.

“Up,” Joel says.

He gets to his feet as quickly as he can but it takes some effort. His toes are tingling and even the air moving around his cock as he rises feels unbearable.

Joel’s near enough that Frankie can feel his breath on his neck. He lets out a moan and shuts his eyes. Joel’s hand closes around him, squeezes the base of his cock and Frankie bucks.

“You like that Frankie?” he hears you ask. “You like feeling his hands on you?”

He doesn’t know, can’t form words or even thoughts. Frankie’s never been touched by another man before, not like that. He’s so senseless he doesn’t even bother to figure out how he feels about doing this. If that’s what you want for him right now, he’s willing to do it.

Joel tugs at him, his hand rough except for what’s leaked down Frankie’s length. He’s so sensitive, so delirious.

“She asked you a question.” Joel’s lips are pressed against his ear, the sweat of his chest sticky on Frankie’s back. He sets a steady pace with his strokes.

Frankie tries to answer but he chokes, sees white behind his eyes. His climax is as violent as a slap in the face.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby,” he babbles as he coats Joel’s fist.

When the fog lifts and Frankie blinks his vision back into focus, you’re staring at him and Joel with your lips parted. You look turned on and awe struck and exhilarated. Frankie wavers and Joel catches him by the shoulder.

“You gonna make it?” Joel asks him.

Frankie can only nod. He feels relieved. Not just from the release. He tries to catch his breath, sitting on the floor.

“Let me clean you up, sweetheart,” Joel offers.

“Mm,” you respond.

Frankie’s left alone. He hears the shower. There’s so much to make sense of and he’s still, quite frankly, delirious.

He’s shocked when you come out of the bathroom a moment later, your robe hangs in your naked body. He wishes he could touch you but he’s not sure if he still has that privilege.

You crouch down beside him, a damp washcloth in your hand, and you begin to clean him. It’s warm and soft on his chin and you’re gentle as you mop up his thigh. He’s overcome. Once again you’re so good to him and he’s unworthy.

Your face is a mix of emotions and he can tell you’re thinking. You’re careful not to meet his eye until you’re finished and when you do, all of the mischief and desire is gone.

You sigh.

“You can stay but you’re sleeping on the couch,” you tell him.

A knot forms in his throat and he thinks he might just cry.

“Thank you,” he manages to whisper without tears.

You nod and then hesitate. Another sigh. Finally you put your lips to his forehead, a light, quick kiss. It feels like something close to forgiveness.

---

thanks for reading!

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uglypastels · 1 year

Text

Caught Me Slippin' | escort!eddie au

(a/n) yes, this fic is based on the Kiss Quotient, and, therefore also Pretty Woman. Thanks to everyone who voted on the poll for me to work on this fic. I had a lot of fun with it! So, even though its a bit all over the place, haha, I hope you still like it.

If you want to see more of this fic, please send an ask and we can chat about it but Do Not Ask For Part 2. This is a One Shot.

Summary: [modern!au] feeling insecure about your skills in bed, you decide to find someone who could help you learn. Except, when the guy actually shows up, a mistake seems to have occurred. Fortunately, you're both quite adaptable (or, at least, you try to be), and the night quickly takes off into unexpected territories.

Word count: 13.2k

Warnings: SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY. dual POV. rich!female!reader. shorter than Eddie. self-consciousness. slight miscommunication - quickly resolved. swearing. drinking. awkwardness. [mention of infidelity, side characters]. non-monogamous relationship. smut. male sex work (obviously). slight dom! Eddie. inexperienced!reader. mentions of bdsm- bondage, sadomasochism. nipple piercings. nipple play. fingering. oral (f receiving). light pussy slapping. Eddie has an innocence kink. I'm probably not representing sex work 100% accurately, but this is [fan]fiction. You should always take it with a grain of salt. + apparently, kind of angsty, idk i guess I'm dead inside.

if you think I'm missing any warnings, please let me know, and I'll add them. if you do not like the sound of any of these- then this is not for you. do not read.

All the errors left unlearned, oh

But I am the luckiest guy

Not the loneliest guy in the world

- David Bowie, The Loneliest Guy

What the hell were you doing?

Sitting at a bar, which was mistake number two. One of many, for that matter. The third was ordering a drink you knew you wouldn’t drink but had picked when panic swooped over you as the bartender walked up. The red liquid looked quite pretty, but you could smell the alcohol the second the girl put the glass in front of you. An attempt at a sip was made, and you brought it to your lips, but the bitterness overwhelmed you.

There was one thing you had gotten right, and that was at least picking a bar that wasn’t crowded. The music played at just the right volume, and people kept to themselves, to their booths and their tables. You tried to let your mind wander off, not to overthink– that would only cause more anxiety– but it always went back to what the people around you were talking about. You never meant to be nosy, and you never butted in… but it was entertaining what random strangers had to say to each other.

— You’re shitting me.

— No, I’m serious. Sarah told me herself. She walked in, and there he was, fucking their pool boy.

The table behind you erupted in a chorus of gasps.

— Poor Sarah, though.

— Yeah, well, she had been sleeping with her yoga instructor.

How were people so comfortable talking about such things in public? Where everyone could listen in? You almost felt bad for this Sarah that her complicated marriage was being shared with the entirety of this small bar, surely then retold all across the city.

You glanced around you, side to side. The bar counter was quite long, with enough space for eight barstools to stand next to each other. Besides yours, four more were occupied. Having opted for the last chair, you were worried about someone sitting on one of your neighbouring chairs, but luck had been in your favour.

That is, until he showed up.

Your first, and probably, the biggest mistake that you made that night.

♤

From the second that Eddie sat down beside her, he could tell something was wrong. He always could with such things. As well as assume what might have been the cause of the problem.

Her eyes widened, nearly doubled in size, as he sat down next to her. He couldn’t have made a mistake; she had sent what she would look like and be wearing, and the description was accurate. She should have known what Eddie would look like as well; that’s basically what the whole selection was based on, look, and yet… the way she stared at him… he had the urge to wave his hand in front of her to make sure she wasn’t going into shock.

‘Hey,’ instead, he opted for a kind smile as he leaned against the bar, asking for a quick confirmation of her name, and took a moment to take her in properly while she defrosted and returned to reality. She was cute, to his surprise, definitely not the type he would usually be coming across these nights. Pretty and young, but mostly, shy. The bar was definitely not in her comfort zone, and he had picked up on that the second he noticed het sitting there, back stiff in nerves, drink untouched except for the little straw she stirred around in circles mindlessly. At first, he thought, maybe it’s all an act. The shy and naive girl next door, he was into it, but no. Now he knew better; she was terrified.

A few seconds later, when his eyes moved back up to her face, she spoke her first words.

‘Who are you?’

♤

There had been a mistake. There must have been. Whoever the guy sitting next to you was, he was not the guy you had paid for.

Jesus that sounded so stupid. How could you have been so dumb thinking it was a good idea to hire a guy for the night. As if that would make you feel better, make all your problems disappear.

The man blinked in confusion. Your reaction had clearly been a surprise. As he stumbled over his words, you took him in quickly.

Long brown hair fell over his shoulders in messy waves. He had layered up, but not for practicality. You couldn’t see how the leather jacket or the denim vest over a thin t-shirt would help him against the evening cold, not to mention his ribbed jeans. Overall he looked like he had been directly cut out of an 80s rock magazine. Sure, some women must be into that kind of look; you couldn’t even deny he was pretty attractive, but it was not what you had wanted. Not for now. You needed something simple. Comfortable. Easy.

Those large rings and metal chains were most definitely not comfortable. Or simple. Or easy.

Oh god.

♤

‘I’m Eddie,’ he stated, hoping it would clear something up, but her confused stare didn’t falter. ‘Didn’t you book…’ Eddie knew all the people around him were poking their noses into everyone’s business, so he tried to pick his words wisely, ‘... the appointment?’ Fuck, did he walk up to the wrong girl? He knew it would have been too good to be true to get an actual girl his age. People always lied on these forms. He was ready to apologise and walk away, but she answered.

‘I did.’ Her eyes wavered again over him. ‘But not you. There must have been some kind of mistake, I–’

‘Is everything good here?’ The bartender walked up, towel across her shoulder, her piercing blue eyes digging right through Eddie. Her question had been directed at the girl, and she nodded quickly.

‘All good, just a little misunderstanding.’

‘Alright then,’ The bartender sent Eddie another suspicious look before heading to the other side of the counter to take another order. This was fucking fantastic. Yeah, just great.

♤

‘Ok, so who did you think you were meeting?’ Eddie asked when the woman behind the bar walked away, slightly backing away from you, letting his shoulders fall.

You tried to remember the name of the guy who caught your attention last evening. Would the name mean anything to Eddie? You didn’t expect all these guys to hang around together...

‘Shit, yeah, ok, that makes sense.’ You could see all the puzzle pieces coming together behind his eyes. ‘He’s out on a date tonight as well. They must have sent us each other’s… wait,’ he quickly grabbed his phone.

♤

Eddie searched through his emails. It didn’t take long to ignore the few spam messages he had gotten since this morning. And there it was. The booking confirmation he had received. Having gotten them so often, he had read it on autopilot, not even realising that his own name was missing. All he had needed, he thought, was his client’s information. But there it was, literally the first two words of the email: Dear Steve…

Oh, the office would have a field day with this.

But some of him also could not wait to ask Steve how his date went.

♤

‘Yeah, they fucked it up,’ after a few seconds, Eddie had turned his phone around to show you an email. Even though you only needed the first two words to understand the mistake that occurred, you took the time to read as much of it as possible to make sure it was real. From what you could tell, it seemed legit. Just what business operated solemnly through emails… and apparently, not even automated ones.

‘I’m really sorry for the inconvenience,’ Eddie apologised as he pulled his phone back and placed it into his pocket. ‘I can call the office and get you a refund. I promise you that this is usually nothing of the standard we usually operate at.’ You appreciated his professionalism. Despite never thinking you were that judgemental, perhaps you had actually judged him a bit too harshly at first glance. And he was quite attractive…

‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could dial the number of his boss, or whoever was in charge. ‘Uhm… did your… friend… send you something? About his date?’ Steve was now, of course, also on the wrong job. Eddie looked up at you for a second, before glancing down again at his phone to check his notifications.

‘No, haven’t heard anything from him. I guess the other person didn’t seem to care which one of us they got.’ he chuckled, which surprised you. Did other people not care about who they slept with? You get to pick a person for a reason, don’t you?

‘I don’t need a refund.’ You stated after a short moment. Eddie glanced up once more.

‘Are you sure? It’s a lot of money–’

‘No, I mean, I would like to continue the night… with you.’ This was, for sure, getting out of your comfort zone, right? Being adventurous, getting a life, all that shit your friends nagged you about for years. Eddie smiled with the corner of his mouth.

‘Alright then, would you like to get out of here?’

‘Yes, please,’ you let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the volume in the space picked up quite a lot as more people entered, drowning out your conversation, but it was getting a bit too much for you. ‘Just… one minute.’ you stood up, heading to the bathroom, but Eddie called your attention for one more second.

‘You forgot your purse.’ he looked down at the ground where your bag was lying. You gave him an awkward smile and picked it up before making your way to the back of the bar.

Closing the stall door behind you, you wished for some decent internet; thankfully, it wasn’t the worst. You didn’t bother trying to be quick about it. There was no doubt in your mind that he knew you were looking him up online. With shaking hands, you typed in the name of the agency where you had found Steve. They had a list of all their “models”, as they nicely labelled them, and you scrolled through them. There was the guy you had planned on spending the night with. You had picked him because he looked sweet, and hot, obviously, but with enough cockiness thrown in the mix to tell you he knew what he was doing. And the little sales pitch the website had written up for him to sell the fantasy worked well. You didn’t bother rereading it now, but it was something to do with “the sweet jock that knows how to take care of his girl”. It was extremely cheesy, you were more than aware of that, but cheesy was good. It was safe.

Your friends would have probably laughed at you.

They probably would have picked out a guy like Eddie.

Speaking of the guy waiting for you at the bar, you found his profile. First thing first, the picture. That was definitely him; you recognised the unruly dark hair and brown eyes. He had several photos posted in his profile, like most of the men on the website, and they were of semi-professional quality: self-taken, but with a very nice camera and lighting. He had put effort into his presentation. First, there was the portrait, showing his handsome face, shirtless but cropped to the shoulder, revealing enough of the silver chain around his neck but not showing what was actually hanging off it.

The following picture was a full-body pose, with clothes on that were not significantly different from the ones he was wearing now. No denim vest, but a different leather jacket on top of a black shirt. Dark denim jeans with a belt, buckled by what looked like to be steel handcuffs… had he been wearing that tonight as well?

Your throat tightened up as you swiped to the next post, which was, of course, the obligatory nude. All the “models” had to have them, since that was basically what people paid for. If it wasn’t for the fact that the site saw itself as one of the “classier” agencies out there, the naked pictures would have been the only ones available. You, for one, appreciated the variety.

Eddie was posed on a bed, on his knees. With one hand in his hair, and the other over his thigh, he didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Despite not even looking at the camera, the smug smile on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He got you looking, and he knew you liked it. Yet, what you couldn’t stop looking at were the tattoos that covered his pale skin. Dozens of them, at least, varying in size and style, covering most of his arms, upper legs, ribs…

You scrolled on, remembering he was still waiting for you outside, but the next picture didn’t make anything better.

It had been a session shot. You had stumbled across similar ones on your initial look at the website. The men posing out the act of some kind of intercourse. Different positions, different actions, whatever described their style in the profession. For Eddie, that included the shot of a naked woman in bed, the same bed in which he had taken the previous picture. Her limbs were spread apart, tied to the bed corners. Her eyes were covered with a black and white bandana, and the rest of the features tightened in bliss as Eddie was positioned between her legs. His mouth was right at her core. If that wasn’t enough, he had put some props up on display next to the woman; some extra handcuffs, a vibrator and what you assumed to be a flogger.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

♤

She returned after a few minutes, and Eddie could immediately tell his assumption was right. The poor thing couldn’t look him in the face. She sat back down on the barstool, holding onto her purse, lip between her teeth and eyes on anything but him. Yeah, she had looked him up.

In all honesty, he thought it was a good thing. He didn’t care for people who didn’t do their research into things. Saying that, as quite a spontaneous person, you couldn’t jump into things head first all the time. Sometimes, it was important to test the waters. Make sure there were no sharks swimming around.

‘I paid for your drink,’ Eddie remembered. She looked at him, stunned.

‘Oh, you really didn’t have to.’ Did she seem apologetic?

‘Please, its the least I can do, for, you know, being the wrong guy and all.’ He smiled, hoping she would return the favour. The corner of her mouth curved up the smallest amount, still quite unsure of the situation.

‘Really, I–’ she was ready to get her wallet, most likely pay him back, but Eddie stopped her by placing his hand over hers. That made her freeze, look back up at him. Eddie felt two pairs of eyes on him. Hers, and the bartender behind him, most definitely reassessing the whole situation. Everything about this evening was going to shit. He could probably wave his perfect 5-star rating goodbye, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but he for sure as hell was not going to get put on any registers tonight. However, trying to seduce a stranger into bed with him when he is so clearly not the type for this girl… why was he even trying so hard?

He didn’t like using the term “vanilla”, it got too much of a bad rep, but that is what she seemed to be. Her clothes weren’t flashy, not even considering for “outgoing”. She wasn’t the type to go out and hook up, let alone get an escort. He wasn’t surprised she had decided to go for a guy like Steve. But Steve wasn’t here; Eddie was. He now had the job of taking care of this girl in any way she wanted him to.

‘Ok, shall we?’ She took a deep breath as she got up.

‘Are you–’ maybe they should talk about this? He didn’t want her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

‘C’mon,’ next thing he knew, she grabbed Eddie by the wrist and whisked him off the barstool, dragging him along outside. It was early in the year, but late in the evening. The air was crispy, and the wind blew harshly. Eddie had definitely not dressed warm enough for the night, but that would have been an understatement for her. She would freeze in a few minutes.

‘I got a room in the hotel just across the corner,’ she spoke, rather determined. Some people might have mistaken it for confidence, but Eddie saw the other signs. Her clenched jaw, her consistent avoidance of eye contact… she was putting on a brave face. And that’s how people get into situations they don’t want to be in.

If it had been warmer, he would have stopped them on the street, but he had to get her out of the cold, so he let the girl drag him across the sidewalk to the hotel's entrance. It was big. The warm lighting reflecting off of all the decor, giving it a golden glow.

She did not stop walking until they reached the elevator. She clicked the button, and the arrow above the doors pointed down. The numbers slowly descended from 14.

‘I know you looked me up.’ Eddie started, having no idea how to introduce the topic fluently.

‘Ok.’ She was biting her lip nervously.

‘So I know you know what my usual gig is.’ They both watched the numbers go down. 7… 6…

‘So we’re on the same page.’ She glanced up at him; he could see it in the reflection of the metal doors.

‘I don’t think we are.’ The elevator pinged open as Eddie said so. They walked inside.

‘What do you mean?’ She finally looked him in the eye, only momentarily, but he saw that some of her fear slowly faded as she pressed the button to her floor. 15.

‘That, yes, I usually am pretty rough with my clients,’ he couldn’t hide the smile on his face, but could anyone blame him? He enjoyed his work. ‘But that’s because they want me to be rough.’ He looked at her intensely. Not to intimidate her, but to show her the seriousness of his words. ‘I don’t do anything that you don’t want me to do. You paid for an evening with… well, not me, but it’s all the same. If you get your money’s worth from a good pounding, I’m more than happy to oblige. From cuddling and watching a movie? All fine by me.’

♤

It’s all the same.

But it wasn’t, was it? They weren’t all the same.

‘What about you?’ you asked just as the elevator opened on your floor. Eddie let you walk through first. Now, you couldn’t look away from him, letting your head almost spin around a whole 360 to get your glance at him.

‘What about me?’ He had his hands in his pockets. Suddenly there didn’t seem to be anything scary about him. His hair was soft. His jacket, while not exactly winter-weather proof, looked cozy. The patches on his vest were hand sawn. With an image of him sitting at home, sewing them on, one by one, you got a sudden urge to ask about them, but who did that? Surely, in your situation, questions like that were out of bounds.

‘What do you like?’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ he chuckled, which confused you.

‘Doesn’t it? I might not be the most knowledgeable about the whole sex thing, but… shouldn’t both people involved be getting off? Doesn’t that make it better?’ You had reached your door. Weirdly, from having focused on the conversation as you walked, you didn’t feel any nerves unlocking the door. The room was dark, and you switched the light on. The nerves still didn’t bubble up. You could do it.

‘I suppose so– wait, you’re not a virgin, are you?’

You shook your head no.

‘Ok. not that there is anything wrong with that. Everyone’s living life at their own pace, I just don’t feel comfortable with that kind of responsibility. No one’s first time should be with….’

‘A professional?’ you raised your eyebrow, suggesting a possibly more classy term for what he wanted to say.

‘Nice.’ He smiled, and made his way over to the bed. You watched him get comfortable on the edge as you took off your light jacket. Your arms were freezing from the cold air outside, but the hotel room was cosy. Not to mention, the nerves were heating you up once more by the second. This was it. Eddie spread his legs wide, almost calling for your eyes to look at his thighs and how they stretched the material of the jeans.

When your eyes moved back up to his face, you were terrified to see that he was staring right back at you, devouring you with his gaze. He definitely saw you checking him out. But it was becoming harder to concentrate when you looked at how his large hand grazed over the faint stubble on his face.

‘C’mere,’ he said with a nod, and thoughtlessly, you followed his order. Eddie took you by both hands once you were close enough and placed them on his shoulders, then let his hands settle on your waist. His eyes found yours for a quick check. When you gave him the green light with a smile, he immediately mirrored it and asked: ‘what were your plans for this magical evening?’ He briefly tightened his grip on you and kept moving his hands up and down lightly as you tried to respond. As if that wasn’t hard enough with his eyes staring deep into you.

‘No, uhm, nothing special.’ You didn’t need special. Special meany complicated, and you just needed someone to help you out with the basics.

‘Making it special is kind of my one job, you know,’ he pulled you in for a hug so that his face was only a few inches away from your stomach. His arms now enveloped your frame, hands comfortably positioned over your ass. A complete stranger was hiking up the hem of your shirt, touching your bare skin underneath it. ‘So, what is it that you want?’ When he pulled up enough of your shirt to actually reveal the skin underneath, he placed a soft kiss on your side. That feeling alone felt electric. He kept on leaving fluttering kisses over your middle. It was a strange sensation as well as a pleasing one. So simple, and yet it had a great effect that you couldn’t quite explain.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to concentrate on Eddie’s question as his kisses continued. What did you want from this night? But should you tell him the complete truth? Wasn’t there some way to avoid the embarrassing details? Then again… how could he ever help you with your needs if he didn’t know what they were?

‘I want…’ you gasped lightly when his teeth grazed your skin. For some reason, that pushed you over the edge to just put everything you worried about out there. You were already here, in this hotel room, with him. Fuck it.

♤

‘I want you to help me be good at sex.’

Eddie didn’t mean to stop. He saw in her reaction that that had been the wrong thing to do. She must have seen his widened eyes and taken it for judgement, while really, it had just been a small surprise. He wasn’t exactly used to people asking him to teach them how to have sex.

‘Sorry, uhm, nevermind. Just ignore me.’ She scratched at her neck while looking away. That won’t do. Eddie had to fix this before they would do anything else.

‘No, wait. Let’s… let’s talk this through for a moment.’ He led her by the hand and let her sit on the bed next to him. ‘Get comfortable. Is there anything in the minibar?’ he noticed the small fridge in the closet across the room and hoped she would understand his question to ask permission to use the service provided in the room.

‘Go ahead, take anything you want.’

‘Living large, are we?’ He cocked his brow before making his way over to the minibar. The selection of drinks was quite understated for a place like they were in. two cheap beers, a small bottle of champagne and two sodas. From what he had gathered at the bar, she didn’t seem to be a big drinker, so he grabbed a beer and a soda can. ‘Here.’

‘Oh, thanks.’ She didn’t look up at him as she took the can from him. Fuck, what was she embarrassed for? He doubted she would speak up in the conversation by herself, so just started out with a question. ‘Why do you think you need help with sex?’ She said she wasn’t a virgin, so she’s had experience. With a glance at her hands, he saw no ring or sign of regular wear of one. That, of course, didn’t exclude the option of a boyfriend or a partner. Maybe even a guy she just wanted to impress. The possibilities were endless, and for some strange reason, at the thought of her having sex with someone else, a strange feeling started gnawing at Eddie’s guts.

‘Because I’ve had sex a few times and so far it’s been awful.’ She sighed. ‘But I know that, to get better at it, I would have to go and endure endless dates to find a guy who would want to sleep with me, but then what if I do meet a great guy but just put him off because I’m shit in the sack?’

‘Don’t you believe that, if you did really find the right guy, he would help you? Or not even mind your alleged lack of skills “in the sack”?’ Eddie asked, taking a sip of beer. She just looked at him with a look that told him everything. Right. Men are egoistic scum. She had a point.

‘Sorry, you must think I’m insane.’ She tapped on the top of the can. The metal ticking sounded hollow in the quiet room.

‘I really don’t.’ If it wasn’t for the fact that he had a moral spine, he would have happily told her about some of his other clients.

‘Yeah, but I’m just wasting your time talking your ears off with absolute nonsense,’ she tried to laugh at it, lessen the tension.

Eddie leaned over the bed on his elbow. ‘Don’t you know that escorts are the new therapists?’

‘Wasn’t that bartenders?’

‘I brought you your drink, didn’t I? Call it a 2-for-1 combo deal.’ He put his beer in the air for a toast and took another sip. ‘And I was serious earlier. You already paid for the whole night, so I’m all yours, sweetheart’ He hoped that didn’t sound dismissive. The last thing he wanted to do (again) was to upset or offend this girl, who genuinely looked and seemed amazing. The idea of her not being able to find someone for herself, having to go down the process of finding someone like him to make her feel good…

‘Are all the guys at your agency this nice?’ she looked up from the lip of her can, bringing his mind back into the room.

‘No, Steve is a giant dick,’ Eddie laughed.

‘Right, while you have one,’ she teased.

‘Ha. Funny.’ He pointed at her in appreciation before taking a sip of the beer. ‘But I suppose you’re not wrong.’ She had seen his pictures; she knew what he had in stock. He wondered what she thought of it– sure, she might not have been ready for his regular repertoire, but that didn’t mean “never”. But what he wanted to know the most, which felt like the biggest surprise, was what did she think of him? For the first time since he started this gig, he wondered what she thought of his appearance. Did she like his tattoos? Was his hair too long, maybe? Were his clothes too shabby? Perhaps it was because she had not actually picked him. She had chosen Steve.

Oh, Stevie. They couldn’t be more different.

‘Are you sure you’re ok with me… being here?’

♤

‘I am.’ You didn’t know what else to reply to that question. Of course, the night was not going anything like you had expected. Until two hours ago, you were planning to have some alright sex with, what you could describe as a “regular hot guy”. Instead, you were on the bed, fully clothed, drinking a coke next to a Metallica reject. Was it too late to still do any of the things you had initially paid for, or was the mood entirely ruined? Did people recover from going into highly personal and dramatic tangents in front of the escort they had hired?

‘Ok, cool. Just… making sure. Fair warning, I might do that a few more times through the night.’ The idea of still having an entire night to spend with Eddie made you really happy. Even if you didn’t know what to do with him in this small room. With a large king-sized bed in the middle, and not much else but the essential hotel decor, the room was perfect for exactly the reason you had booked it and not much else.

Just as you thought it was getting a bit too quiet between the two of you and had wanted to speak up with a question, Eddie opened his mouth to say something as well. So you also simultaneously apologised and let the other person say their piece.

‘No, go ahead,’ you nudged him. Whatever he had to say would probably lead the conversation better.

‘I was just wondering, when you said “help be good with sex”, which aspect are we talking about here? Just regular? Oral? Foreplay? Like, what are we talking about here?’

‘Uhm, pretty much everything.’ You winced at yourself. So far, all your attempts at intercourse had been not great. It always felt awkward and uncomfortable. The guys would get what they were there for and didn’t feel the need to wait around for more. And if it kept on happening, then the math was simple, wasn’t it? Just look at what the overlapping factor was in all the situations. It was eventually your friends one night, after a few bottles of wine, who suggested the idea of just hiring a guy to teach you what to do. It would be so much easier. No feelings, and they know what they are doing. Foolproof plan.

And somehow, you still managed to make things complicated and weird.

♤

‘Now see, I don’t believe that,’ Eddie smiled. There was no way she didn’t know how to do anything. Especially since most of it was just pure instinct. There is a reason why people call it “messing around”, and it’s not because of any guide or formula that one should be working off of to get it right.

‘Well, then you should ask the other guys.’ Again with that little smile, trying to undermine her own feelings.

‘No, fuck them. I bet they didn’t even make you cum.’ He accused. Her lack of response was enough of an answer. Eddie could bet his entire wage that she thought it was her fault they didn’t get her to climax and that… that actually pissed him off. How often had he had his clients tell him how their husbands, the men supposed to take care of them, never bothered to fulfil their one simple and honestly fucking delicious duty? A thought sparked in his mind, and he couldn’t keep back the grin that sprouted up with it.

‘What?’ she asked at the sight of his smile.

‘Have you ever?’

‘Ever what?’

‘Had a climax?’

‘Oh,’ the way she got shy talking about it, to Eddie’s embarrassment, turned him on. The best thing was they didn’t even have to play pretend. ‘I mean, I think?’

‘You think?’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, sorry,’ she cleared her throat, ‘Uhm… I’ll just be right back.’ And having said that, she ran to the bathroom.

As she closed the door, Eddie pondered on the idea of undressing. It would speed things up, possibly breaking the icy wall that closed her off. With one naked person in the room, it was hard to think about much else, which meant less to worry about. But he didn’t think she would actually appreciate it. No, she needed to take it slow. And he would happily guide her through it all.

♤

You splashed some cold water in your face. There had been no reason for you to run out of the room like that except for being a total chicken. The way Eddie was so open and comfortable, talking about all of that… brought out a new fear in you. One you didn’t know you had. One you couldn’t even identify. You just knew you had to get out from under his gaze. Those big brown honey-glazed eyes.

Why the hell did you leave the room? He was sitting so close to you. Your legs were nearly touching. He still sat with his legs spread, basically inviting you to get between them. And what do you do? Run away.

You splashed some more water onto your face.

There wasn’t much makeup on your face to begin the night, and whatever you had left of your mascara and blush was wiped off with the towel you grabbed. One more look in the mirror to ensure no grey ink streaks down your cheeks, and you were ready to get out again.

Just one big breath in. and out.

The bathroom door handle moved silently, and you pulled the door open to be met with Eddie’s chest. He was standing right in front of you.

‘Oh, hi.’

‘Hey, just wanted to make sure you were ok in there.’ He knocked on the door frame in a delayed manner for extra effect. Knock knock. You noticed he had taken off his vest and jacket. Just in his t-shirt now. The sleeves ended right at his biceps, revealing the sleeves of tattoos he hid underneath all those removed layers.

‘So are you alright?’ he asked when you didn’t respond to what he had said earlier. The question pulled your thoughts out of the clouds and your head up to look him in the eye.

‘Yeah, yeah, just…’ your mouth was extremely dry. One more second and no words would be leaving it ever again. It was just gonna have to come out now. Then, with a quick exhale, you admitted. ‘I’ve never had an orgasm.’ From Eddie’s reaction, it didn’t seem to have been any news to him. Like it was the most normal conversation, which, given his job, it probably was. You tried to ignore the thought of him and the many women he must have helped.

‘Well, I would be more than honoured to change that for you.’ He took a step forward, and the proximity forced you to look up at him to see his eyes.

‘Is that a rehearsed line?’ Apparently, your one outburst of truth led to the pandora’s box in your brain, and now you couldn’t shut up, saying the first thing that came to your mind. And unfortunately, it was still filled with the images of him with other people; him making all of them feel ecstatic.

Luckily, Eddie laughed at your presumption. His head tilted back, and when it came back down, and his eyes were once again locked in with yours, his lips pulled up into a smirk. One of his hands found its way up to your cheek before he leaned in. you were ready for him to kiss you, but instead, his breath lingered over your skin. So close that you should have been able to touch him, and maybe you did. Because there was something that made your mind a thick haze, impossible to navigate through. Everything spun around you except for Eddie.

‘So what if I did rehearse it?’ his words hit your jaw as he hovered over you, then whispering directly into your, he asked: ‘What if I’ve already planned 10 different ways in which I want to make you writhe underneath me? Would you mind that?’ Would you mind?

Whatever for?

In a shaky breath, you spoke the only thing you could think of at the moment.

‘Kiss me.’

♤

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice.

He must have been grinning like an idiot, and he could only hope it didn’t put her off as he brought their lips together and kissed her. Deeply. Passionately.

The hair around her face was slightly wet, as was her jaw, telling him she had just spent the last minute splashing water in her face. She tasted sweet, like the coke she had been drinking earlier.

Her hand crept up to his collar, shyly grabbing at it and pulling it down, revealing the slightest inch of the tattoo on his clavicle. Not that she would see it, having closed her eyes the second their lips connected.

Eddie let one of his hands find its way back to her waist. Holding on to each other, they stumbled back onto the bed. She let out a whimper as Eddie’s knees hit the edge of the bed, and he fell backwards, taking her right down with him.

It was a slow tear-away, leaving both in a haze. Eddie watched her sit up straight, straddling him and keeping him locked. If she moved, she would feel how hard he was getting.

‘I assume kissing was not on the agenda of the lesson?’ He brushed some of his hair out of his face.

‘Well, if you have any tips–’ she tugged at the bottom of her shirt. A nervous habit, probably, but all Eddie could think about was how he wanted that material as far away from her as possible.

‘You’re joking, right?’ She must have been. The kiss, though brief, had been… he felt alive after it. His chest was tight as he caught his breath. ‘Fuck, c’mere.’ He pulled her right back. It might have only been one kiss, but it had been more than enough for him. He was already hooked.

♤

His lips were slightly chapped, but not in any way to make you feel uncomfortable. Nothing that some chapstick before going out into the cold couldn’t solve. You could smell the bitter beer he had just drank, and despite the drink having been cooled, it brought a warmth out in you. This heat swam over your cheeks and the parts of you that he held close. His hands were now back to playing with your shirt. The material was creeping up over your stomach, up up up…

♤

‘Can you take your shirt off first, please?’ she asked nervously once the second kiss parted. Her small voice sent sparks flying down Eddie’s body, directly to his dick.

‘Yeah, ‘course.’ All he could do was smile. She shuffled down his legs to give him space and remove the shirt. There was no way she didn’t feel how tight he was getting in his trousers, but she didn’t show any reaction to it, eyes focused on his chest. Eddie looked down at himself. He had almost forgotten about those.

‘You have piercings?’

He kept on forgetting to update his pictures on the website. It was such a hassle. Taking the time to plan it all in, preferably with someone else, so he could have some action shots. There was the editing, and then he would have to send them into the office so someone could actually upload them… he just couldn’t be bothered. As much as he was meant to keep his clients aware of what they were paying for, it was selfish of him to love their surprised reactions. Just now, the way her eyes immediately locked in on them in surprise. How her hand lightly fought against reaching for him.

‘You can touch them. It doesn’t hurt.’ He took her hand and placed it right over his chest. She immediately regained control over her body, and her finger lightly traced over the silver bar. Eddie’s body tightened for a second in bliss. ‘See? It feels fucking good, actually.’ He hadn’t meant to whisper the words out or for them to be so shaky. It was supposed to be a light joke to keep the tension away, yet it pulled the atmosphere down to something intense and sultry. Hopefully, it wouldn’t scare her away.

But she smiled and leaned in again for a featherlight kiss. Fuck, she could kiss. It was like a gift from the gods themselves. A little piece of heaven. If this was how she kissed every guy, Eddie couldn’t comprehend how they didn’t line up for more. And then her hand kept moving, slowly tracing the ink on his body. Her fingernails grazed over the drawings. Perhaps it was a placebo, but he had always considered the tattoos to be more sensitive than the rest of him. The soft touches made him shake in need of her.

‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked, nearly out of breath, mind spiralling with everything he wanted to do to her. He couldn’t keep it in a straight line anymore. Meanwhile, he was supposed to be the professional here. Meanwhile, she expected him to teach her… he was absolutely fucked.

And then her following words only made his situation worse.

‘Just tell me what to do, Eddie.’ Somehow, he missed the exact moment when her lips travelled down to his jaw. It must have been some kind of joke– there was no way this incredible woman did not know what she was doing.

‘Fuck, baby.’ He groaned. He actually groaned. Eddie never did that during his sessions. It just wasn’t something he thought he could do with his clients. It turns out he had never been this turned on by any of them.

It made sense. How often did he think up hour scenarios before meeting the ladies? How often did he imagine he was with someone else? He had thought that maybe, because of the rules of his job and the frequency of his sessions, that maybe sex just wasn’t really anything for him. Not that he didn’t enjoy his job or regretted ever going into the business… money was good, and he was good at what he did. Yet, it was still a job. And jobs could often tire a person out. Maybe he had become desensitised to it all.

But this proved all of his theories wrong. He was entirely in the moment. Aware of everything that was happening between him and her. Nothing between them was new, or necessarily exciting, and yet it felt like nothing he had felt before. Nothing but kissing sent him down a road he could never return from.

And now she wanted him to tell her what to do. Yes, in the teaching context, he understood. But was she even aware that this would not be that far from the ordinary things he did in his sessions if they had just removed that context? Just add in some leather and handcuffs.

‘Take your clothes off, baby.’ He spoke softly, not wanting to roll back into his regular role. This wasn’t that, he reminded himself. He didn’t want it to be that.

When she started to pull her shirt up, he quickly took over. ‘No, wait, go slower. Take your time.’ Fuck, please take your time, he internally cried out. He didn’t want this night to end. It all felt like a dream, and he didn’t want to get dressed and wake up. He didn’t want to leave because once he did, coming back was not an option for him.

♤

You followed his instruction, slowly pulling your shirt over your head. Focusing on him. Looking at him prevented you from getting too much into your head. After all, it was hard to think or worry about anything with someone like him, half-naked, under you. You traced his tattoos. They were all black and white, the ink scratchy and uneven on most as if done at home.

Not precisely stick and poke, but not from a studio either. A pull at your heartstrings made you think of how much money you had paid. How much he needed that money… See, hard to think of your own insecurities when looking at him.

Eddie moved up to lean on his elbow. You were sitting still for too long; he must have sensed something was off. With a gentle touch, he stroke your bare skin. You were both shirtless, though you still had your bra on; his hand was sneakily moving up to the strap over your back, ready to unclasp it.

‘What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sweetheart.’ It must be some kind of trick he was pulling, something he learned over his experience on the job because of the way your whole body fluttered at the sound of the little nickname… it must be a trick. But there was nothing you could complain about either.

Once again, your mouth worked faster than your brain, and before you could tell yourself to shut up, you answered with the first question that came to your mind. ‘Do you do anything else… besides this?’ a second later, before he even had the time to react, you butted in with your own response. ‘That is probably way out of bounds. Sorry–’

‘Only a little bit,’ he was taking it lightly with a chuckle. Clearly, with no intention of stopping what the two of you had been doing, he littered your jaw and neck with kisses between his answer. ‘I’m in a band. But garage gigs don’t exactly pay the bills.’ You felt him tremble with a laugh against your neck. Eddie had by then sat up and kept you in place on his lap with a tight hold. As he kept kissing you, you let your body speak for itself, closing your eyes and trusting your instincts. Somehow you knew what felt right and what didn’t. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against Eddie. You tried not to think about what you were doing, knowing you would just start to freak out and freeze. Instead, you thought of Eddie on stage with his band, imagining him in all the different positions, trying to figure out which instrument fit him best.

As if he could read your mind, he said, ‘I play guitar.’ His hand had now officially made its mark on your bra, grabbing the backstrap, and wringing it until it unclasped.

‘That’s hot.’

‘Yeah?’ The bra snapped open. Eddie took it upon himself to slide the straps off your arms. You threw the item off to the side of the room, and Eddie didn’t waste a second to bring his attention to your breast.

♤

Had no one ever touched her properly?

All that Eddie did was kiss her tits, and she was almost coming undone. He felt a pang of terrible guilt on behalf of his entire sex. How the fuck did no one make her feel good… not only that. How did men make her feel as if she was the problem? That she had to step her game up and learn. If he ever got his hands on one of those assholes– woah. Calm down.

♤

‘Yeah,’ you gasped out the small word. ‘So- so hot.’ It was hard to keep a sentence straight when he had his full attention on your nipples.

One preoccupying his lips, while the other was cupped by his large hand. He was rough in his touches, pulling and squeezing, but not in any way that felt too much. On the contrary, you needed more. More of him.

He switched from one breast to the other in his movements. Then when he pulled away, he kissed you again. Then, he looked you in the eyes, a false seriousness covering his features.

‘So, let that be lesson one: foreplay. Extremely important before any kind of sex.’

‘But… I didn’t do anything?’ You blinked. It was true, wasn’t it? He had been doing most of the work; meanwhile, you hadn’t done anything for him. But Eddie frowned.

‘Oh, baby, you did plenty.’ His hand reached down to his own trousers. ‘You feel this?’ When you hesitated, he took your hand to guide it over his crotch, where you could clearly feel the outline of his dick. ‘Yeah, that’s all you, sweetheart.’ He was so cocky, so confident.

He kept on talking. ‘And let me ask you one more question.’ For this, he leaned in to almost whisper the words against your hot skin. ‘Are you wet?’

‘I don’t know.’

Eddie clicked his tongue in disapproval. ‘I think you do know, but let me check then, hmm?’ You weren’t sure how he did it, but he brought you underneath his body in one fell swing. You were now lying on the bed, and he slid down to sit on his knees at the end of the bed. ‘Professional opinion and all, right?’

‘Right.’ You hid your face in your hands to laugh. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

Eddie reached for your hands, making you look down at him.

‘I wanna see your pretty face.’ But, God, speaking of pretty faces, his smile might have been one of the most beautiful sights in the world. He could have been a model, probably… and yet…

You didn’t want to look at him, however, when he started unzipping your trousers. The button opened up, and you heard the zipper move down, releasing the tension of the material around your waist. Eddie tapped your hip, telling you to move them up. Once you did so, with one big tug, he pulled the pants down to the middle of your thighs with one big tug. It took him three more to get them off entirely. The next second, the trousers were in the corner of the room, along with your shirts.

‘Oh, baby,’ his syllables were long, dramatic, playful. ‘You are fucking soaking through these.’ You felt your back stiffen at the feeling of his fingers on you. Two, his pointer and middle fingers, slowly tracing down over the thin cotton. Then he’d roll them back up, letting his knuckles press the slit.

‘Fuck, can’t wait to taste you– can I taste you, baby?’ He asked, eyes pleading you for it.

‘You don’t have to,’ you responded. The air in the room seemed to be turning colder and sent shivers over your arms.

‘I know I don’t have to.’ Eddie scoffed, teasing. ‘Let that be lesson two then: if a guy doesn’t want his mouth near your pussy, then you shouldn’t come anywhere near his dick.’ He growled out the last words, and his hand had such a tight grip on your panties, that, with one quick move, he tore the material in two.

♤

‘Eddie!’ she shouted.

‘Shit, sorry.’ He got too carried away in everything. ‘I’ll pay you back.’ That’s when he glanced down; it was like his memory was instantly wiped. ‘Oh, fuck yes. Fuck you got the cutest pussy I’ve ever seen.’ He left a kiss a few inches above it and slowly made his way down. His fingers returned to the slow up-and-down motion he had done before, and each time, he let himself go deeper. Her body tensed up, and breathing hitched in her throat until it came out in a soft moan.

��That’s right,’ Eddie said before one last kiss on the most crucial spot. And this kiss lasted. After a few seconds, he practically made out with her clit, as his fingers entered her.

That is when her hand reached for his hair. The touch was enough to make him moan against her.

‘Oh fuck,’ she moaned loud, eyes tightly shut in pleasure. Keeping his fingers deep within her, Eddie mused:

‘That’s right, baby. Does it feel good?’

‘So good.’ She dug her nails through his hair, nudging him on to continue whatever he was doing.

♤

Even though you had not meant to pull at his hair, it was all much more of an impulsive action, Eddie groaned out against. He pulled you in closer, sending the vibrations from his body right through yours.

You had expected, thinking up this plan of hiring someone to teach you sex, that it would be much more formal. That the guy would give you step-by-step instructions on how to do things, tell you everything directly, and you would follow. Maybe that is how it would be with anyone else, but with Eddie, he made you feel it. Without saying a word, you knew how to listen to him. Through his reactions, you knew what to do. His moans encouraged you to pull his hair, to close your thighs around him. Meanwhile, your response spurred him to go, let his fingers move harder, his tongue slick deeper through you.

‘Fuck, Eddie, fuck.’ You felt that feeling inside you, the build-up. It wasn’t familiar, for you had only experienced it very few times, mostly on your own. This tension deep within you. It grew, quickly reaching its tipping point.

Eddie’s free hand fastened itself onto your leg; he seemed to have lost himself in you. Then his eyes moved up, locking right with yourself. A part of you wanted to take a picture of what you saw in front of you and cherish the memory forever. His honey-brown eyes glazed in need of you. This spark of all-knowing deviltry.

Your whole body tightened as you felt it coming, tighter and tighter, like a rubber band ready to snap.

But instead, Eddie let go of the band as he pulled away from you to accompany your last moan of his name.

A whimper left your mouth, and pleads were ready to follow it, begging him to not stop. Not now. Just a few more seconds.

‘Lesson number three,’ he wiped his mouth– which was glistening in the room's warm light– with his thumb but never wiping the smug smile off his face. ‘Tease, tease and tease. The longer you keep them waiting, the sweeter their reward will be.’

At this point, you could not imagine it being so sweet, as all you felt was a horribly empty feeling, deflating your insides by the second.

‘Everyone likes that?’ You asked.

‘Hmm, good question.’ Eddie got up to remove his belt. He made a spectacle out of it, sliding the whole strap from between the loops, then throwing it down to the ground. ‘It does probably depend on a person, what their limits are. How much they can last and take.’ Like a showman, he made you watch. Made you wait. ‘I’m sure some people would rather just get on to the final act.’

‘Not me?’ you asked as he pulled his jeans down along with his boxers.

Just like the picture.

‘Hmm,’ with a pondering expression, he fell down onto the mattress beside you. ‘Not you.’

‘What makes you say that?’ It took all your willpower to keep looking into his eyes. He, however, wasn’t as courteous. His eyes roamed over your naked body as his hand found its way back between your legs. A quick snap. He slapped your clit lightly, but it was enough to immediately sent a spark through you, nearly bringing you back to the spot of tension.

‘Just a hunch.’ He slapped you again.

♤

She was so fucking sensitive. Like a little porcelain doll.

For good measure, and the fact he couldn’t get enough of how her body moved when encountering intense pleasure, he gave that pussy a third and final snap. Maybe he would have kept going, he certainly had not felt like stopping any time soon, but it was when her hand reached for his. Fingers around his wrist. Her eyes closed lightly, mouth parted just a tiny bit, enough for her to whisper his name.

‘Eddie.’

‘What’s up, sweetheart,’ he leaned in his lips almost on her cheek again. She didn’t respond. ‘Lesson four: always use words. I don’t know what you really want unless you tell me.’ He left sloppy kisses over her face as he dictated. ‘So? What. Do. You. Want?’ He punctuated each word with a touch

‘Fuck me.’

‘Of course.’ He had expected her to play around with the words, make him pull it out of him, but no. So, he got up and reached for the wallet in his jeans. He should have checked sooner. This had been too much of a risk, but luckily, the silver foil stuck out immediately.

She had sat up again to watch him rip the packaging open.

‘You’re making me feel really unprofessional right now,’ he chuckled to himself whilst pulling the condom out. ‘I have a whole box in my bag with the rest of my stuff.’ He had planned to get it out of his car after meeting her at the bar, but then everything had gone a bit to shit, hadn’t it?

‘I have a box… in my bag,’ she said, for some reason almost embarrassed.

‘Someone’s eager, huh?’ Perhaps he didn’t help, but really, he was talking about himself. Eddie could immediately imagine himself being with her for the rest of the night, the entire fucking week if he could, but something told him that after this— that would most likely be it. It was better not to stretch a good thing out. She paid for him to teach her the basics, not exhaust her to her limits, perhaps scare her off of sex forever.

‘No, I just–’ did she notice he was joking? Either way, she hid her face in her hands, laughing at herself. Eddie took the moment that she wasn’t eating him alive with her eyes to get a few pumps in. it wasn’t even needed; he was rock hard; it was just a routine at this point. He let his head roll back a little back as his hand moved up and down, then got on with putting the condom on.

♤

‘How should we uhm— how do you want—’ you looked for a good way to phrase it as Eddie got back into bed.

‘Anything particular in mind you wanted to get a hang of?’ he asked. You shook your head no. Stupid. You should have done your research. Come more prepared.

But could anything prepare you for Eddie? It didn’t seem likely. You could have come in with a four-volume guide, and he would have probably thrown it out the window and shown you a whole new world.

‘Then we’ll just see where the night takes us, why don’t we?’ He positioned himself on top of you. Arms on each side of your shoulders, stomach hovering over yours. As you both breathed in, you could feel his muscles. He put his weight on one of his forearms as the other hand reached back down between you, moving his fingers in a circular, steady motion.

Too occupied with how good his touch on you felt, there was no real thought going through your mind when you pulled his face closer to you, kissing him deeply. Your noses pushed against one another. Your fingers rooted down between his hair.

Eddie spread your legs wider apart, creating the perfect position for himself.

‘You ok?’ he asked, lips practically still on yours.

‘Mhm.’ You hummed, but Eddie clicked his tongue, pulling away a few inches to look at you a bit more focused.

‘Mm, remember rule four?’

You didn’t want to remember. You didn’t want to think. All you wanted, needed, was him inside you. But you answered: ‘use your words? Let them know what you want.’

‘Good girl,’ he kissed you softly. ‘It also goes for consent. Probably should have made that the first lesson, but what can you do? Make clear what and when you want something. If the guy doesn’t listen– I don’t know, kick him in the nuts.’

‘Got it.’ You nodded.

‘So, let’s try it out.’ He didn’t move, just waited for you to speak.

You took a deep breath. ‘I want you to fuck me, Eddie.’

‘There we go. Feels good, doesn’t it?’ His hand returned to rubbing your clit as he moved around above you, getting in the proper position. ‘Quick lesson five: it’s fucking hot when girls say shit like that. So don’t be afraid to get dirty.’ Slowly and carefully, he let himself sink into you. His length filled you up, spread your walls. It was a perfectly tight fit, making it impossible to hold anything in.

‘Dirty and loud.’ Eddie stayed still, letting you get used to the feeling of him. ‘Don’t hold it in, baby, ok?’

‘O-ok.’ Your breath was shaky. Once used to him, you placed your hand on his chest. His hot breath burned your skin.

Eddie kept a slow pace, letting both of you ease into the rhythm of being together, but eventually, you felt your body loosen up. Finally, it wasn’t enough anymore. Was he holding himself in? Could he tell you needed more but was waiting for you to tell him? Teach you your lesson.

‘More,’ the word was nearly just an exhale, but it was enough for Eddie. He kissed you passionately with a smile, and he plunged deeper inside you. From then on, his thrusts were harder, faster. He grabbed your leg and pulled it over himself. The new change brought in a whole new angle, letting you feel him through your entire body.

The pleasure was intense, and beautiful. Your mind was scattered, so you didn’t even feel your teeth graze over your lips, locking in your voice. But Eddie noticed.

♤

The second he caught it, something in Eddie’s mind switched on. As much as he tried to contain that part of himself, keep it away from her, he couldn’t. It was fucking primal.

He thrust harder than he did before. His hand found its way to her cheek, squeezing it– not too tight, he pulled himself back quickly, but strong enough to show her he meant it– and his words came out in a growl.

‘What did I tell you, baby? Don’t hold it in.’ A few more deep thrusts left both their bodies shaking with each move. ‘I want to hear every pretty sound that comes out of your mouth.’ His thumb pressed against her bottom lip, and, without another word exchanged, she parted those beautiful lips and granted him access.

She fucking moaned around it and sucked her own juices off it. Could she taste the sweetness? He hoped she could. He was jealous of every person that ever got to taste it, but he quickly let that thought sink away as he had more pressing questions.

‘Now, where did you learn that?’ He smiled when he pulled his thumb away, his hips only slightly rearranging the pace as he spoke calmly.

‘Sorry, was that wrong?’ She blinked. Genuine fucking naivete. Eddie could barely hold it in anymore.

‘Only in the sense that it got me this close to blowing my load before you got even close.’ He quickly regained his speed.

From that point on, she didn’t hold back. Her moans were beautiful. The sound of his name comes directly from the centre of her pleasure was like hitting the jackpot. If only he could live off those cute noises, he’d be the wealthiest man on earth. The luckiest. The happiest.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

But shit were her tits a sight for sore eyes. Looking at them, he couldn’t go a second without touching them. For a moment, he got scared he was too rough, but then the claws came out– almost literally. Her nails dug into his back. It would leave marks, and Eddie couldn’t wait to see them when he looked in the mirror the following day.

‘Eddieee,’ it came out so shaky, so desperate. He could tell she was getting close. It took much less than expected. He had a thousand things in his head that he still wanted to do with her, show her, but even he realised then it was wishful thinking. His own words from minutes ago reverberated in his mind.

You’re making me feel really unprofessional right now.

He was ready to burst, and it only took a few minutes in missionary. Usually, he could go for ages.

Then again, he hadn’t been this turned on in a long time.

‘You close, baby?’ He asked and almost hoped to hear yes; Eddie didn’t know how much longer he could last, and if he came before her– he could never live that down.

But she was lost in him, too far down to appropriately respond. That wasn’t good. Eddie slowed down a bit. ‘Hey, hey, you alright?’

♤

‘Yes,’ you took a deep breath, ‘please don’t stop. Not now.’ He was making you feel incredible. In a matter of a few minutes, you felt like you had reached the seventh heaven. Absolute bliss.

But perhaps you didn’t feel how much you actually felt. As good as it was, this overwhelming sensation pulled you away from everything around you. When Eddie brought you back, with the softness of his voice and the touch of his hands, only then you realised how far down you had been.

‘Are you sure? We can take a break.’ Eddie’s eyes searched your face for any signs of trouble, but before he could spiral, you halted him. A few deep breaths were all it took for you to be present.

‘I’m ok. Thank you.’ You kissed him. Whatever anyone would say if they heard about your plan, this was how you knew you had made the right choice. Or perhaps how you knew that the universe wasn’t always against you. Tonight, it brought you Eddie. Whether it was a freak accident or not, you would never regret the choices that led to it.

Eddie continued what he was doing, giving you all his attention. To all of you. You didn’t feel like an inch of your body went down forgotten. Meanwhile, he was all you could think about. It was like the world around you dissolved. A fire could have burned down the entire room, and you don’t think you would have even noticed. Not with Eddie��s cock deep inside you. He didn’t falter. Each thrust was full of him, hitting the perfect spot. Mind-numbing, toe-curling and…

Soon, you felt that feeling again. That tightness inside you. This time even tighter than previously. It was to be expected that Eddie knew what he was talking about. The longer the wait, the better the reward. And to think only a little time had passed since the two of you entered the hotel room. Not much time at all compared to how much you wished you could be with him. Was it insane? Probably, but you didn’t care.

You just wanted him, and you would take as much as he could give you.

♤

Eddie could feel how close she was.

It had definitely scared him when he saw how far down she had been, already blaming himself for taking it too far. He had been ready to pull the plug and return her all the money. It didn’t matter if her payment had actually gone to his account; he would make sure that his fuck ups were compensated.

But she was fine. Like a little firecracker that she was, she kissed him, wiping his whole mind clear of anything but her. Her and that sweet, sweet taste.

It didn’t take much longer for breathing to break up in quick succession. Moans got louder, likely uncontrolled, and her grip on his tighter. Her nails dug into his shoulder just as he loved it.

‘C’mon baby, come on.’ He encouraged her to lose all of her control. Lose herself to the pleasure. She needed to know how it was to be treated right. He needed her to know. And he didn’t know how much more he could keep it going. His last few thrusts still reached the deepest parts of her, and got everything out of her he wanted, but he felt himself lose his momentum. With each second, it was getting harder to concentrate.

‘Oh my god-’ she whimpered as she released underneath him with a high-pitched scream at that. As much as he wanted to hear all of it, he kissed her to mute it. There was no need for the neighbours to get concerned.

Though from all the other noises they made, from how the bed shook and banged against the wall, they would make the correct assumption.

Not much later, as she was still coming undone, Eddie let himself reel in the pleasure. Then, stilled within her, his lips on her neck now, he came. When he pulled away, he wished he could have left a mark on her, but he knew that would be a step too far.

‘Thank you’ were the first words to come out of her mouth when he discarded the full condom in the trash. He wasn’t sure what to do now. He didn’t like feeling naked post-sex, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. Maybe she expected more. If so, he could give it to her, but he just wasn’t sure–

‘It’s my pleasure,’ he sat on the edge of the bed, just in reach to place his hand on her leg. They were both covered in sweat, naturally, but the cold was taking over. ‘You should get under the covers.’ The last thing he wanted was for her to get sick.

‘Right.’ She pulled at the corner of the blanket– always a much more arduous task than necessary in hotel rooms when they’re tucked in deeper than the pits of hell. As soon as she pulled the white sheet over her body, Eddie regretted his choice of words. It was probably the last time he would have seen her naked, and he didn’t even take a moment to appreciate what he had in front of him.

He found his underwear, which was almost kicked under the bed. When he resurfaced, her face was full of worry. The furrow of her brows was enough to tell him that.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked as he covered himself up.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I didn’t do anything. I asked you to help me figure this out, and we just–’

‘No, hey, hey.’ Eddie practically jumped into bed next to her. Cupped her face in his hands and made sure she looked at him as he spoke. ‘First of all, if this is how you feel, I should be the one to be sorry since I clearly didn’t do my job. So I’m sorry. But you have no reason to think you didn’t do well. This was amazing.’ He could only hope she knew just how much he meant his words. That she could trust a complete stranger with words as much as she did with their bodies.

‘No, Eddie, it’s not that you didn’t teach me anything, but I– there’s still so much I don’t know. Fuck, I still have no idea how to suck a guy off.’

Eddie cursed under his breath. Just from those words, he could feel himself twitching against his boxers. This girl was going to be the death of me. She kept on talking.

‘Would it be ok if we do this again? Not as an accident this time, I will book you.’

He wanted to say yes so badly. But he had to keep his mind clear as he answered. ‘I don’t think that will be a good idea.’ fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He wanted to punch himself in the gut.

♤

‘I try to keep a strict one-time, no repeating clients policy. It makes the job much easier,’ Eddie explained.

‘No, I understand.’ Having to do this with the number of people he does… you couldn’t imagine how that was. How other people would be with him, and what could have happened for him to make such a rule in the first place.

‘I would say you should try Steve for real, but I don’t believe you need any “sex lessons”.

‘Right,’ you scoffed away the comment, but Eddie was persistent.

‘I mean it. I can tell that you have a whole talent in there for this shit. You just need to find the right guy to bring it out in you because whoever you’ve been in the past, clearly, they weren’t doing it right. Then you will learn everything else you want to learn by yourself. Basically like you did now.’ He gave you a kind smile, and you tried to replicate it.

‘I did need you.’ You couldn’t look at him as you said it.

‘Ehhh– not so sure about that. For a while, I thought you just wanted me for my body.’ He fell over to his back, hand on his chest as if he had just been shot. ‘That shit can hurt, you know.’ He was so dramatic and made you laugh so easily. You had never expected anything like that to happen that night.

♤

A body to adore was one thing, but he might miss her smile even more.

‘Are you feeling alright?’

‘Why do you keep asking me that?’ She blinked. Eddie pushed down the anger he felt at all those morons that had not treated her right before.

‘Let that be your final lesson then,’ he pushed down another instinct, this time to make a cheesy reference that she might not get. There was no need to make the mood weird or awkward now. Eddie cleared his throat. ‘Lesson… what number are we on, six?– Lesson six: aftercare. Just check up on yourself to see if you’re able to carry on afterwards. While always quite vital, the more intense the session, the more important the aftercare. It keeps you stable.’

She nodded in understanding. ‘So, how would that look?’

‘Well, let’s see…. Are you sore? Do you need anything?’ Once again, he was mad at himself for going into this without his usual stuff. While his bag was mostly filled with toys that might be a bit too much for her, he also had plenty of shit to make her feel better if needed.

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Ok, do you need something to drink? Eat?’ Before she even replied, Eddie lunged for the can of soda she had discarded on the desk opposite the bed. The bubbles would have mostly flattened by now, but it was still a liquid to drink.

‘Not really,’ she said as he handed her the can and took a small sip. ‘Ok, maybe a little bit.’ They both smiled as she emptied the can of its last chug.

‘More?’ Eddie asked as he tried to read it off of her.

‘No, I’m good.’ Just like before, she started tapping on the can. Now empty, it sounded even more hollow.

‘And was everything alright? I was scared I might have gone too far at one point.’

♤

The way you could see the genuine concern and worry in Eddie’s eyes made you want to wrap your arms around him, kiss him, and never let him go. To think that a few hours ago, neither of you was even aware of the other’s existence. That you weren’t supposed to be aware, that it was all a giant coincidence. And that after tonight… that would be all that it ever was.

Here was this fantastic man taking care of you better than any other guy had.

Sure, you paid him to do it, but something in you, call it a freaky instinct, told you that that was just who Eddie was. He wanted to take care of you.

Maybe that’s why he went into the business. Who could really tell?

‘It was perfect,’ you told him because it was.

‘Ok, good.’ He nodded, smiling shyly. It was the first time that night that you saw a crack in the confident front of the guy.

‘Really, thank you.’ You reached for his hand, and his eyes followed it. He looked as your fingers lazily intertwined while you watched him.

‘You, uhm, you should probably go to the bathroom. Make sure you wash all of me out. Make it a standard practice, really.’

‘Will do,’ your voice wasn’t hoarse, yet you whispered. It suddenly became hushed in the room. It could have been quiet all this time, but it was then that you grew aware of it.

You didn’t want to leave the bed, or Eddie, just yet, but you knew you should listen to his professional advice. Everything he had told you so far felt like the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe you also knew of them already, maybe did it too, but it only made sense when it came from Eddie. ‘Don’t leave yet, ok? I want to say goodbye.’ The idea of him being gone when you came back felt gut-wrenching for many reasons, but all unknown.

All Eddie did was nod.

When you returned, he had just put his shirt back on. His belt was in his jeans loops but not yet fastened. Was it weird to watch him get dressed? It felt more like a thing real couples did, which you were far from. It felt stranger doing so whilst you were still completely naked, so you grabbed the fluffy white bathrobe on the bathroom shelf and pulled it on, tying it tightly around your waist.

‘That’s me then.’ Eddie scratched the back of his neck, looking around, most likely checking if he didn’t forget something. A part of you hoped he did. He would realise it only hours later and rush back to find it. That this wasn’t the last time the two of you would meet.

A girl could wish.

‘Right.’ You put on a brave face as you made your way to the door. ‘Thank you again. For everything.’

All Eddie did in response was nod with a tight-lipped smile.

The door was open now. He was already on the threshold. Compared to the soft glow of your room, the corridor's light felt jarring to your eyes. Just like that, it was over.

You could not believe this was the end. It ended as quickly as it started. A whole whirlwind of… everything, really.

Before you could stop yourself, one last question burst through your lips.

‘Is Eddie your real name?’ You immediately regretted your entire life, couldn’t believe you had done that. ‘I’m so sorry, just ignore me. I don’t know why I said that–’

But Eddie beamed. He took your hand in his. ‘As real as anything tonight was.’ and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. He started walking before your wrist even hit your hip.

You couldn’t watch him walk away, so you closed the door and your eyes before he went too far. A minute later, you cursed to yourself.

The whole aftercare thing- You never got to ask if he was ok.

Fuck.

the end.

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist. - also made a lil playlist based on this fic, told through taylor swift songs

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Eddie (smut, 18+) taglist part 1:

@spiderrrling @theglitterymess @dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @niyahwhoreworld @fopdoodle1624 @pastel-abyss-x @ghoulsgraveyard @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @ssanjuniperoo @nxrdamp @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreads @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @kbakery @lizzylynch1 @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @sweetpeapod @the-a-word-2214 @eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @overthewhiteclouds @wroteclassicaly @groupies-do-it-better @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington @billyhargrovesprincess @annikin-im-panicin @kaitieskidmore1 @yesv01 @princess-aries

#eddie munson #eddie munson au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #fanfiction #imagine #fanfic #fic #smut #escort!eddie munson #escort!eddie

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