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rafestify · 15 days ago

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need a rafe fic please where reader is part of the pogues, her and rafe have been on and off for forever obviously due to everything he’s done but deep down he’s so down bad for reader and maybe she’s pregnant instead of sarah and he doesn’t find out until morocco because the pogues are hovering over her idk angst fluff whatever you feel!!!

Two lines — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Fem!Reader is pregnant with Rafe’s baby, but he doesn't know until pope accidentally mentions her baby (season 4 ep 10 spoilers!! ⚠️)

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings : mentions of vomiting & language (english is not my first language)

A/N : as requested 😉 hope u like it anon!

Two lines, and the father was long gone, off doing god knows what. Rafe was the last guy I'd hooked up with, and even after we broke up, we somehow kept finding our way back to each other, especially after the Kildare Enduro. He knew no one else could satisfy me the way he did, and so it became this endless cycle, break up, hook up, make up. What Rafe didn’t know was that I was pregnant. I hadn’t planned on telling him, at least not until we made up.

There I was, back on Rafe’s boat with my friends, setting off to Morocco in search of the Blue Crown and Chandler Groff. My friends had locked Rafe up, tying him up in a small room, just in case. We all knew better than to trust Rafe Cameron, not after everything he’d done.

I walked into the dimly lit room, carrying a tray with a glass of water, a plate of food, and a couple of aspirin for his black eye. The sight of him, bruised, tugged at something deep inside me.

“Here,” I murmured, setting the tray down on the table beside him. “I brought some aspirin, just in case you’re feeling dizzy or something…”

He snorted, cutting me off. “What? You’re just gonna throw it in my mouth like I’m a fuckin' seal?” He wasn’t exactly wrong, but his sharp tone made me bristle. “Nobody trusts you, Rafe,” I replied, my voice steady. “Not after what you did.”

His jaw tightened, and a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. “I saved your asses!” he shot back, his face flushing with frustration. “And not even a thank you was said.”

I took a slow breath, steadying myself. “I know, Rafe. I know,” I said softly. “Thank you, really.” I offered him a small, sincere smile.

He looked at me for a moment, his gaze softening just slightly. “You trust me, right?” he asked, his voice quieter, a bit more vulnerable. I bit down on my lip, feeling the pull he always seemed to have on me.

“Yeah,” I admitted, almost reluctantly. God, he knew exactly how to get to me.

He looked at the ropes binding his wrists and nodded toward them. “Then untie me. Get this shit off me.”

I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt but holding my ground. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my resolve. “Just… eat the food. We wouldn’t want you dying in here.” With that, I turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind me, leaving me with a sigh that I didn’t even realize I’d been holding back.

As I stepped out of the room, I was met by Kiara’s anxious expression, her arms folded tightly as she waited. The moment she saw me, her face softened slightly, though worry still flickered in her eyes.

"How’d it go?" she asked quietly, as if afraid to hear the answer.

I shrugged, trying to mask the mixture of emotions stirring inside me. "Same old Rafe," I replied, keeping my tone light, but my gaze drifted, unable to meet hers directly.

Kiara studied me for a moment before speaking again. "Soo... did you tell him?"

I frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Tell him what?"

She raised an eyebrow, giving me a pointed look. "That you’re pregnant, with his child."

Oh, right. That one.

I swallowed, feeling a sudden knot in my stomach. "Uh—no, not yet," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "I just… I don’t know how he’d react." My hands found each other, my fingers nervously fidgeting as I tried to imagine how that conversation would even go. "What if he doesn’t want to keep the baby?"

Kiara sighed softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Her warmth grounded me, pulling me back from my spiraling thoughts. "Look," she said firmly, her gaze locking onto mine. "You have us. We’ll help you through every single part of this. That’s what friends are for, right?"

I looked at her, the tension in my chest easing slightly. Her words held a strength that I so desperately needed. "Yeah," I whispered, a small smile breaking through my worry. "Thank you, Kie."

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, and for a moment, the uncertainty and fear faded. In her embrace, I felt a flicker of hope—a reminder that I wouldn’t have to face this alone.

After battling fierce winds and waves, we finally arrived in Essaouira. The coastal city spread before us, its whitewashed buildings with blue shutters gleaming under softened storm light. Narrow streets twisted through the medina, lined with shops selling handmade crafts and drenched in a timeless, rustic charm.

The Atlantic crashed against the ancient medina walls, sturdy and weathered, while blue fishing boats bobbed in the harbor—just like the skiffs in the Outer Banks. The salty air and easy warmth of the locals, the slow rhythm of the sea, and the hum of daily life brought back memories of home, as if Essaouira was a Moroccan echo of the Outer Banks.

We continued to wander through the narrow streets of Essaouira, the sound of bustling market vendors and the distant call of seagulls filling the air. John B and Sarah led the way, their steps light and carefree, like they had no care in the world. Following behind them was Cleo, Pope, and Kiara, their conversations flowing easily as they walked, with JJ and I bringing up the rear. But it was Rafe who trailed behind, his presence almost ghostlike, like a lost puppy, following silently in our wake.

As we strolled through the maze of alleyways, I felt a sudden, sharp wave of nausea hit me. It was sudden, and intense, as if something in my stomach was threatening to rise up. I let out a soft huff, pressing my hand to my stomach, trying to hold back the overwhelming feeling of sickness.

JJ, who had been walking beside me, must've noticed the change in my posture because he looked at me with concern. "Y/N?" he called, his voice laced with worry.

"Oh god," I muttered under my breath, the nausea worsening, my head spinning.

"What's wrong? You okay?" JJ asked, his voice low, concern evident on his face.

I shook my head, barely able to focus on him. "No... I need to sit," I said, my voice strained. I felt like I was going to collapse if I didn’t stop moving.

JJ quickly guided me to a pile of carpets that were stacked outside a shop. The soft fabric felt like a relief under me as I sat down, trying to steady my breathing. The rest of the group quickly noticed, and soon I was surrounded by their concerned faces. Kiara dropped to her knees in front of me, her eyes searching mine, her hand resting on my knee in a comforting gesture.

"What's up? What are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

"I'm really nauseous," I managed to answer, my hand covering my mouth, just in case. I didn’t trust myself to hold it down any longer.

Cleo, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest. "She probably needs food. It’s been like two days..or what?" she said, her voice tinged with practicality.

"Yeah, the baby’s probably hungry too," Pope added, offering a casual shrug, as if it was just an obvious conclusion.

I froze, my stomach twisting. The mention of "the baby" caught me off guard, and suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Rafe, who had been hanging back, still distant, looked like he was suddenly paying attention. His gaze shifted from me to Pope and then back to me, his brow furrowing.

"What baby?" Rafe asked, his voice sharp, as if something about the situation didn't sit right with him.

Oh god, here we go.

Pope went silent, and I could feel the tension rise in the air, thickening around us. I glanced up at Rafe, who was now standing a few feet away, looking at me with an expression that was hard to read. His eyes narrowed as if trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"No, seriously, what baby?" he repeated, his voice insistent, even stern now.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. There was no easy way to say it, but it had to be said. "I’m pregnant, Rafe," I said quietly, locking eyes with him. "With your baby."

The words hung in the air between us, like they were too heavy to carry. For a long moment, Rafe didn’t say anything. He just stood there, silent, his expression unreadable. The others were watching him closely, waiting for a reaction, but he remained eerily still.

I could feel the tension growing, an awkwardness settling in the space around us, as if everything had just shifted. My hands were shaking slightly, not from the nausea anymore, but from the weight of what had just been revealed. And Rafe, he was just staring at me, his mouth slightly parted but no words coming out.

"Go get her something to eat," Rafe suddenly snapped, his voice cutting through the tension that still hung thick in the air.

Without another word, he dug through his small waist bag, the leather creaking under his movements. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but then, with a small grunt of satisfaction, he pulled out a wad of cash—several bills, all stacked neatly together. As he unfolded them, I saw that he had about $400 in his hand, a small fortune for street vendors in Essaouira.

"Wait what?" JJ’s voice broke the moment of disbelief. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "They don’t take dollars, you idiot—"

"I said go," Rafe interrupted sharply, his tone hardening. There was no room for argument, no sign of hesitation in his voice. It was almost as if he was trying to regain some control over the situation, and in doing so, he completely dismissed JJ’s protests. His words were a command, not a suggestion.

The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances, the shift in Rafe’s demeanor catching everyone off guard. But without further discussion, John B, Sarah, Cleo, Pope, and Kiara reluctantly turned to start walking back toward the market, their steps unsure but obedient. JJ hesitated for a moment, clearly frustrated by Rafe’s abruptness, but eventually followed along as well.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on me for a second, his expression unreadable. He stood still for a moment longer, his gaze momentarily drifting over to the group before returning to me. He didn’t say anything else. His words had been clear, and I could tell that something about the situation had shifted for him.

"I don’t care whether you want the baby or not, but I’m keeping them," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. The truth was, I had made up my mind. I had to keep the baby, and nothing anyone said or did would change that. Not even Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes widened at my declaration, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring at me, his face unreadable. Then, he kneeled down, and he let out a sharp breath. "Hey, hey, hey—who said I don’t want to keep the baby?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension to it, as if my words had hit a nerve.

I blinked, caught off guard by his response. The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and I wasn’t sure what to say next. His eyes were fixed on me now, intense, searching. It felt like something was shifting between us, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

"We’ll take care of them," Rafe continued, his tone softening just a fraction. "I’ll be with you throughout the whole journey, Y/N. You’re not doing this alone." His voice held a kind of resolve, as if he had already decided, as if he was offering something that felt almost too good to be true.

For a split second, it felt like the world around me had stopped moving. The noise from the market faded into the background, and all I could hear was the steady beat of my own heart. The words he said felt surreal, like they were echoing in my head. "I’ll be with you, 'aight?"

I blinked again, almost feeling like I was in a dream, like I had slipped into some alternate reality where everything suddenly made sense. But when I looked at Rafe, his gaze never wavering from mine, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. It felt like a nap dream, a momentary illusion that would disappear when I woke up.

"What?" I said, my voice coming out in a whisper of disbelief. "Sorry—"

Rafe seemed unbothered by my shock. He placed his hands on my knees, his movements deliberate. "You heard me, Y/N." His words were firm, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in them.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken thoughts, and I could feel the weight of what he had just said settle in my chest. It was almost too much to process. I had always expected Rafe to pull away, to make this harder for me. But here he was, standing before me with something I hadn’t expected, a promise. A promise to be there. A promise to face this together.

My mind spun, trying to make sense of it. I glanced away for a moment, as if hoping the world would shift and reveal the truth. But when I looked back at him, his expression hadn’t changed. He was still looking at me with those steady, unwavering eyes.

"You’re serious," I murmured more to myself than to him.

Rafe didn’t flinch. "Yeah," he said simply, as if there was nothing more to discuss, as if the decision had already been made. "I’ll be there for you. For us."

For the first time, I didn’t know what to say. My heart was still racing, but for a different reason now. There was a part of me that wanted to believe him, to hold on to this moment, to trust that things might actually be okay. But there was also a part of me that was terrified of what this all meant, of how my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t predict.

I stared at him in utter disbelief, barely able to process the reality unfolding before me. It felt like some kind of miracle. My vision began to blur as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the emotions welling up and spilling over, probably caused by the pregnancy hormones, but I couldn’t stop them. I tried to blink them away, but they only gathered faster, until a warm tear rolled down my cheek.

Rafe’s expression softened when he noticed, his gaze never leaving mine. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close in a way that felt so natural, so steady. He didn’t hesitate for a second, and his embrace was warm, reassuring, holding me together when I felt like I was on the edge of falling apart, and God, it felt good to be back in his arms.

His hand rubbed gentle circles on my back as he murmured, “We’re gonna be parents.” His voice was soft, filled with awe and disbelief, as if he was speaking the words for the first time and couldn’t quite believe them either.

I nodded against his chest, clutching onto him as tightly as I could. The weight of his words settled over us, the reality of what lay ahead, and as much as I wanted to be brave, I couldn’t shake the fear that started to consume my mind. I let out a shaky breath, my voice coming out in a whisper, “I’m scared, Rafe.” The words felt small, vulnerable, but they were the truth.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands gently cupping my face as his thumbs brushed away the stray tears still slipping down my cheeks. “I know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I am scared too.” There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored my own, a glimmer of uncertainty about the unknown future that lay ahead.

“But we’re in this together,” he continued, his voice growing stronger, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was reassuring me. “I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know what’s coming… but I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine, closing the space between us. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

His words washed over me, filling some hollow place I hadn’t realized was empty. In that moment, his presence felt like a lifeline, pulling me out of my fears, giving me a glimpse of something that felt almost like hope. The future was terrifying, yes, but it felt a little less daunting with him by my side.

I looked up at him, my voice steadying as I replied, “I’m glad it’s you.” And as I said the words, I realized just how much I meant them.

He offered me a small, crooked smile, a warmth in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. “We’re gonna figure this out together,” he promised. “One step at a time.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. And in that moment, held in his arms, I felt a little less afraid.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the rest of the group appeared, each carrying an assortment of food and drinks. It was almost comical, watching them return all at once, each of them holding something different, John B with a handful of pita bread, Cleo balancing a bowl of yogurt, JJ carrying bottled water, and Sarah clutching a small bag of fruit, including a shiny red apple that she immediately extended toward me.

“Here,” Sarah said softly, her face easing with relief as she offered the apple. I took it gratefully, feeling the cool skin of the fruit in my hand, and took a tentative bite. The crisp, sweet flavor flooded my senses, soothing the nausea that had been twisting in my stomach. They watched with eager anticipation, and as they saw me begin to nibble, their worried expressions started to relax.

“Feeling better now?” Pope asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern as he studied my face.

I swallowed another bite and nodded, a smile creeping onto my face. “Yeah, yeah… thank you,” I replied, glancing at each of them.

They exchanged glances, visibly relieved, and a sense of warmth spread through me as I looked around at their familiar faces, each one showing their own brand of care. I realized then just how much I’d come to rely on them, not just as friends, but as family. I felt a comforting wave of gratitude for each of them, knowing they’d been there for me without question, supporting me in ways I hadn’t even thought possible.

As I took another sip of water, Rafe moved a little closer to me, his hand resting gently on my thigh. His touch was subtle, but the gesture was enough to let me know he was still there, holding his promise to stay by my side. There was something calming in his presence now, something steadying that I hadn’t noticed before.

The others began chatting among themselves, sharing their own stories of haggling with the vendors, laughing about who’d paid the most for what they’d brought. They were giving Rafe and me a moment, I realized, a chance to talk without the pogues’ attention fixed on us.

Rafe leaned down slightly, his face level with mine, his voice low and steady. “You really okay?” he asked, his hand still warm on my thigh.

I took a deep breath, the initial dizziness and nausea fading, leaving behind a feeling of clarity I hadn’t expected. “Yeah, I think so." I paused, looking up into his eyes.

He smiled, a soft, almost vulnerable expression, and for a moment, he seemed like a different Rafe—one who wasn’t weighed down by pride or bravado. “That's good” His voice was filled with a sincerity that softened something inside me. "Don't want our little one and her mommy to starve, do we?" He smiled making me let out a low chuckle.

In this quiet moment, I knew, deep down, that I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the father of my child. Everything just felt right. Despite all the chaos, the ups and downs, there was a steady comfort in knowing me and Rafe would face it together.

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nadvs · 7 months ago

Text

home before dark (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, eventual smut, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

You’ve been looking at your reflection for five minutes now, eyes rimmed red from crying. Muffled, bass-heavy music is echoing from the front of the house.

You’ll do anything to delay going back out there. Even if it means standing still in the bathroom, trying and failing to stop tears.

Parties at Tannyhill always bring in massive crowds, yet your ex-boyfriend still managed to find you in the sea of people. You slipped away and have been hiding since, the anxiety of seeing him again crushing you.

Thankfully, you know your way around the estate. It was once like your second home.

As an only child, you latched onto the Cameron siblings the second you met them. You had just moved to Kildare, your dad having been an old college friend of Ward’s.

You practically grew up with them. You’re still close with Sarah. And even though Wheezie was only four when they lost their mother, she seems to find comfort in you always being around.

But your once best friend, who you’re merely weeks apart from in age, was transformed by the grief. Rafe is a stranger now. And you can tell that he loathes being around you.

When the door is roughly pushed open, the knob slamming against the wall, your heart lurches, overtaken by the sharp fear that Ty has found you.

But it’s Rafe, his hair hanging over his forehead and his nose dripping with blood, shattering your solitude.

He meets your eyes for just a second and looks away as soon as he sees it’s you. Like always. He never makes eye contact with you for very long.

“You’re bleeding,” you say quietly.

“No shit,” he mutters.

He barges past you to the sink, spitting crimson blood onto the porcelain. He’s hunched over the counter, panting, pissed off that you’re still standing there. Still lingering.

You’re always around. A constant reminder.

“Do you need help?” you ask, but you step back, your actions mismatching your words. You put distance between you for his comfort. Not yours.

“No.” His head is in splitting pain. He hasn’t accepted help in years and he’s not starting now.

This is how your conversations with him always go. You extend an olive branch. He snaps it in half.

You were both ten years old when the sweet boy you knew started hating the world and everyone in it. You had a front row seat to the tragedy that broke Rafe Cameron, a mama’s boy who suddenly lost the person he loved most.

But no matter what he does or says to you, you can’t hate Rafe back. After the accident that took his mother’s life, the compassion you harbor for him won’t let you.

While you definitely don’t like the person he’s become, a man so cold and aggressive, you couldn’t hate him if you tried.

You look at your reflections, side by side. You were once kids playing on the beach together, but in the mirror stands a bloodied cokehead next to a tearful mess, living in another summer of seeing each other everywhere and never speaking.

If it were up to you, it wouldn’t be like this. You’d still be friends. But he has his group of buddies who he drinks and smokes with and to him, they’re enough and you’re not.

Rafe looks up from his contorted position, the water rushing out of the faucet loudly. Frustration rises in him when he sees your silhouette in the mirror. He focuses on the edge of the sink, refusing to meet your eyes.

“You’re still here?” he snaps.

You’re used to the disheartening sight of a high and injured Rafe. He snorts lines and brawls at almost every party. Everyone calls him a psycho behind his back.

You want to ask what happened, but you know he’ll brush you off like he always does. You leave the room, determined to escape the party and go home. It’s past midnight anyway.

You’re nearly out the front door when frigid fingers wrap around your forearm. Your blood runs cold as you twist to see Ty, his eyes fixed on you.

“Did you block me?” he asks, the smile that once charmed you now making you sick. You look around at the crowds of partygoers as if someone can save you.

He’s still refusing to accept that you broke up with him a week ago. It was annoying at first. But now, it’s scary. He won’t leave you alone.

He texted you so many times over the last few days, going back and forth between calling you a waste of time and apologizing and begging to see you, that you had to block him.

After a few months together, you realized he wasn’t as nice of a person as he liked to pretend to be. Slowly, who he really is seeped in, unveiling a cruel and controlling brute.

“Of course I did,” you say. “I told you to stop texting me. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”

“You’re not thinking straight,” Ty scoffs. “It can’t just be over.”

“Yes, it can,” you say, straining out of his grip. You had told him over and over that if he wasn’t going to stop disrespecting you, you’d leave. He kept apologizing, saying every outburst was a one-time thing, just to put you through the same pain again.

“Are you going home?” he asks.

You wish he didn’t know that your parents are on a business trip and will be gone for the next couple of weeks. Regrettably, he’s aware you’ll be sleeping in an empty house for the next while.

“No,” you lie.

“Then let’s get a drink and talk about this,” he says sternly. “Unless you’re with some other guy now and that’s why you tried to break up with me?”

Could that be the only way he’ll leave you alone? You try not to shrink under his gaze, a heartless, eerie abyss. The fact that he says you tried to break up with him tells you he still isn’t accepting that the relationship is over.

“I broke up with you because you treated me like shit,” you say. Your heartbeat is loud and your breaths are shallow and in a split second, you decide to lie as an act of survival. “But yeah, I am with someone else now.”

Rafe turns off the faucet, heart racing from the coke and the adrenaline of winning a fight. It all started because some guy looked at him wrong. That was enough for Rafe to start swinging.

Admittedly, letting out his aggression is a thrill. It’s his comfort zone. When he surrounds himself with chaos, it distracts him from the voices howling in his mind.

Life is nothing but a sick game of tag, and he’s been running away from reality and towards disorder for years.

Rafe’s nose is still throbbing from the only punch the other guy managed to get in when he heads back into the throws of the party.

He’s filling up a solo cup in the dining room when your eyes meet his. He can’t look away this time. You’re rushing towards him, fear written into your features.

Once you hastily close the distance, leaving mere inches between you, Rafe can see you’ve been crying.

“Hey,” you say over the music, overwhelmingly grateful that you finally found him after frantically rippling through the crowds. “Can you help me? Please?”

Maybe it’s because of the desperation in your glossy eyes. Or because you both once knew how to make the other feel better. Or because you chose him to help, when he’s used to never being chosen by anyone for anything. But he decides to hear you out.

“What?” he mutters, hollow blue eyes searching your face. Rafe’s brooding, all cleaned up now, the blood wiped away.

You look over your shoulder, your chest rising and falling at full tilt, then face him again.

“My ex is following me,” you say. “Can you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“What?” Rafe’s mouth is twined in irritation. Of all the guys to use to make your ex jealous, you pick him?

“Rafe, please,” you say hurriedly.

You turn to see Ty, his eyebrows raised in clear surprise. After you talked to him by the front door, you rushed away, feeling his looming presence trailing after you.

You face your ex, standing beside Rafe with your hand curling around his hard bicep, finding unexpected relief in holding him. It’s jarring touching him after years of distance.

Rafe can’t remember the last time he was touched like this. It’s like a reprieve from the rush he’s always in, slowing him down.

Ty shoves his way through groups of people, his face carved with anger.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he shouts over the music, eyes darting between you two. Rafe recognizes him. He’s seen you together at parties and the country club. This guy is just another Kook who gets shit-faced every chance he gets.

“Leave me alone, Ty,” you say.

“You’re with him?” he mutters with a laugh.

“Yeah, I am,” you say, tone shaky, praying Rafe plays along. He catches the brittle waver in your words.

“You can’t be serious,” Ty says. “That was fast.”

He steps forward and you find yourself cowering behind Rafe, who instinctually straightens up.

When Rafe realizes your hand is trembling, something in him twists. You’re not trying to make this guy jealous. You’re afraid of him.

Even after the years of hostility between you, somehow, you uncover a soft spot that Rafe didn’t know he had. He hates that this asshole is scaring you.

“Get out,” Rafe says to your ex, his deep voice sending relief through you.

Ty’s eyes dart to Rafe before his gaze is on you again.

“Really?” he ridicules you. “The guy you always call a psycho?”

Rafe’s arm flexes beneath your hand.

It’s a lie. People talk shit about Rafe, but you have never uttered a bad word about him to anyone.

“I never said that,” you retaliate.

“Just come outside so we can talk,” Ty says, his voice dripping with anger.

“Whose fucking house do you think this is, bitch?” Rafe shouts, roughly shoving Ty’s shoulder. “I told you to get out.”

You see fear on your ex’s face for the first time in your life. Your instincts were right to push you to run to Rafe. Everyone’s afraid of him.

“Chill,” Ty says with a forced smile, palms up in surrender. You’re sure he’s thinking of all the brawls he’s witnessed at these parties. Rafe might get roughed up, but he hardly ever loses a fight.

“Go,” Rafe sneers.

“I - I am,” Ty stammers. He meets your gaze one last time before he flees, his lips thinning in anger. Dread surges through you. You can tell you’re not rid of him.

Awkward tension settles between you and Rafe. He turns to look down at you, eyes flitting to your hand still on his arm. You let go.

Of the entire fervid exchange, what blares in your mind the loudest is Ty’s lie.

“I never said that about you,” you say.

Rafe scoffs. He figures it’s better to be feared, to be seen as a psycho, instead of the loser he knows he is.

“I don’t give a shit,” Rafe mutters, although, for whatever reason, he feels a piece of him caring what you think about him. He shifts to continue filling his cup with beer, pissed off and disoriented.

“He lied,” you tell him, stepping to the side to meet Rafe’s eyes again. You need him to know.

“Got it,” he says carelessly. He dips his head back as he downs his drink.

“Listen, I’m sorry to drag you into this, okay?” you say. “I don’t know what to do. He won’t leave me alone.”

He stills. Talking to you is hard. The fact that you’re still kind to him makes it harder.

But you’re so clearly terrified. Maybe he owes this to you. Everyone else wrote him off, but you, for whatever reason, still treat him with a gentleness he knows he doesn’t deserve.

“If he bothers you again…” Rafe says. He doesn’t finish the sentence, but you don’t need him to. This is his way of telling you he’ll protect you.

You stare at his hardened features. You always felt like you grew up with Rafe from a distance. You know him in snapshots.

The ten-year-old who made small footprints next to yours in the sand. The seventh grader who got into so many fights that rumors of expulsion circulated around school. The high schooler who didn’t care to hide that he was doing lines at every party.

And now, he’s the man towering over you, drugged up, throwing punches every chance he gets, agreeing to pretend to be your boyfriend.

The fact that he’s willing to put on this charade for your safety makes you think that maybe there is a soft part of Rafe left somewhere deep inside. A part of the boy he once was.

“Thank you,” you say. You’re sure he won’t want to carry on the conversation, so you step away before he takes back his offer.

You find Sarah and ask if you can crash in her room tonight, knowing she’ll say yes. The thought of going to your empty house is too daunting.

The next morning, you’re sitting in the large kitchen of the Camerons’ estate, wearing last night’s clothes. You stare out the window, wishing your anxiety didn’t keep you awake last night.

You slept a couple of broken hours next to Sarah, thoughts of your ex and what he might be capable of rushing through your mind.

You’re not sure what to do next. In a normal world, you’d spend your summer partying and having fun with friends and enjoying your lack of a schedule. But things aren’t normal right now.

You’re desperate to shower and get into clean clothes and simply exist in the comfort of your home.

When Rafe sees you sitting in the kitchen, sunlight spilling over the planes of your face, he does something he never saw himself doing again. He approaches you, instead of running away.

Footsteps pull you out of your daze. You meet Rafe’s tired eyes. He doesn’t look away this time and it makes hope bloom in your chest.

He settles on the other side of the table, across from you, tensely raking his hair back. He doesn’t say anything, words trapped in his throat.

“You’re up early,” you say to break the silence.

Last night was one of many sleepovers you’ve had here. Even though you and Rafe don’t speak much, you’ve puttered around the house enough to have noticed his habits, one of them being that he typically wakes up well into the afternoon the day after a party.

But Rafe wants to cut through the bullshit of small talk. He can’t get how scared you looked last night out of his head. And he won’t admit that it’s the reason he wasn’t able to fall back asleep when the brightness of the sun woke him up this morning.

“Did he ever put his hands on you?” he finally asks, voice low. He braces himself for the answer. He doesn’t know how he’ll take it if you were getting hurt while he was always close by, ignoring you.

“No,” you say. The thought sends a chill through you. “He got… mean. And controlling. Or I guess he was always like that, but he hid it at the beginning. Maybe he would’ve eventually started hurting me. I don’t know.”

Rafe clenches his fist beneath the table. It may be hypocritical to be so angry at another man for being cruel to you when all he’s done for years is end every conversation you’ve tried to start with him. But Rafe has never claimed to reasonable.

“And he won’t leave you alone?” he recalls.

You shake your head no. Silence nestles between you, but this time, it doesn’t feel as uncomfortable.

Rafe’s eyes finds yours again, a shade of blue you can’t forget no matter how many times he’s averted his gaze.

“You scared of him?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you admit. The way your voice weakens puts Rafe even more on edge.

“You don’t have to be anymore,” he says. You exhale slowly, enveloped by a sense of security that you haven’t felt in a long time.

“He looked afraid last night,” you tell him. “When you pushed him, I mean. I’ve never seen him look like that.”

At least his anger was put to good use, Rafe thinks. It was actually worth something for once.

“Give me your phone,” he says.

You obey and watch him add himself into your contacts, a harsh reminder of the lack of a presence you have in his life. You don’t even have each other’s numbers. He texts himself your name.

“Call me if he bothers you,” he says. His promise to watch out for you is like a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, comforting you.

“Okay. Thank you.”

You realize this is the longest conversation you’ve held with him since before his mother passed. The day you heard the news, you came to this very house to offer your condolences.

You had knocked on Rafe’s closed bedroom door, telling him it was you and not his father, who you’d only seen be cruel to his eldest child.

Through the door, you promised him you’d do whatever he wanted. Cry together. Go down by the water. Talk. Or even just sit in silence. But all a ten-year-old Rafe offered you was a tearful go away, followed by years of avoiding you and brushing you off.

He hands back your phone and stands, walking away from you.

“Rafe?”

He turns to face you again, his hand on the kitchen counter.

“Could you follow me home?” you ask. “My parents are away and he knows it and… I just want to be sure he’s not waiting for me there.”

Rafe nods. You give him a grateful smile. He can’t return it.

Minutes later, his motorcycle roars as he tails your car down the street. Your house is only two blocks away from his. He couldn’t forget the way if he tried.

He visited your home with his family a few times as a kid, but most of your friendship was spent on the private beach behind his house, running around in the sand, your childish laughs tangling together in the salty air.

You used to bike to his house almost every summer day. He’d meet you by your gate, smiling so big his cheeks hurt, racing on your bikes to his house together. He would accompany you on the way back home, too, always making sure you got home before dark.

He realizes he always felt like he needed to watch out for you, even when he was just a scrawny ten-year-old.

Over the school year, you spent every recess together. Kids used to tease you about liking each other and he loved that you didn’t care because it made him feel like maybe you had a crush on him, too.

You two were inseparable. Until you weren’t.

Rafe tries not to think about it. This is exactly why he shut you out. You remind him too much of the last time he was happy. Before life became unbearable and before he was left with the parent who doesn’t love him.

Thinking about those days feels like trying to fall back asleep into a good dream, all while knowing he’ll plummet into a nightmare.

You pull into your driveway after getting through the remote-powered gate, parking right in front of the door. Rafe parks behind you, killing the engine and taking his helmet off.

He watches you step out of your car. You shield your eyes with your hand as you look at him, perched on his motorcycle in the bright morning sun, his helmet in his hands.

“I didn’t see his car on the street,” you say. “But I’m gonna make sure that the security system is armed.”

Rafe follows, stopping a few feet away from you as you unlock the door, on edge and ready to strike if he needs to.

You’re relieved to hear the familiar beeping that confirms the system is active and wasn’t triggered since the last time you were home. Rafe watches you disappear into the house to punch the code in.

“All good,” you say when you step back out through the front door. You face him as he stands on your doorstep, your chin tipped up to gaze at him.

“You said your parents aren’t here?” he asks. He’s frustrated that you’re alone.

“Away for work,” you say with a defeated shrug. You wish you’d broken up with Ty sooner so they’d be close by during all this stress. “Some things never change.”

Rafe looks down and nods. He remembers how often your parents travelled, leaving you with his family or babysitters while they were away.

Birds chirp in the warm air surrounding you. You stare at Rafe now that you have the opportunity to, up close. There are some freckles and beauty spots you remember. Some that you don’t.

He’s strikingly handsome and you wonder if he knows it. If anyone has ever told him.

“Alright,” Rafe says, stepping back, his way of saying goodbye. He doesn’t look at you again as he paces away.

His mother used to have to call you both into the house multiple times to eat lunch when you’d play on the beach together. You’d have so much fun that you didn’t want to do anything to interrupt it.

But these days, Rafe can hardly wait to get away from you. And even though it’s comforting having him watching out for you, having a string tying you to him again, you wish his coldness didn’t still hurt as much as it does.

(part two)

author’s note thank you to @rafedaddy01 for this idea @diorjadore for this idea!!! ILYSM!!!

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic

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2tarbell · 4 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/2tarbell/756490945730576384/hiiiiiiiiiiii-my-loves-talk-2-me-plzz-and-i

hiii been thinking about bfb w rafe tonight… sleepovers at sarah’s with kie (& omg bonus points if reader is in the pogue friend group i can never get enough pogue reader + rafe content) where he’s kinda perving on reader but she’s kinda into it (oh no she must’ve left her panties at sarah’s house!!! whatever is a girl to do sigh)… she’s all giggly n blushy n flirty n shit when she runs into rafe late at night while getting some water from the kitchen, making sarah and kie wonder what could possibly be taking her so long?

maybe they start texting, out of convenience obviously of course being his little sisters best friend and all, and then maybe it turns into sexting, until rafe can’t take it anymore and some sensually filthy smut happens🥰 you can decide the rest if you choose to write this but either way ty for listening to me horny ramblingxhxhjd

ೀ

SURE OF IT

warnings! best friends brother, pogue!reader, sweetheart!reader, maybe ditzy!reader, rafe is kinda chill? i guess?, mention of weed, reader and rafe are pervs, fingering, pinv smut, unprotected sex, car sex, daddy kink, dom!rafe, slapping, choking, lmk if i missed anything :)

your best friends brother is the one for you. (3.3K words, fic, © 2tarbell 2024)

“—and rafe is somewhere upstairs— i know, but we can just ignore him—”

as if.

the beating of your heart picked up at the mention of the eldest cameron.

a small, wicked part of you hoped he would make an appearance. hoped he would taunt and tease you in that deep voice that haunted every single one of your wet dreams.

sarah and kie couldn’t know that, of course.

so you made a show of pursing your lips in distaste, sharing a look with kiara that you prayed didn’t say “i actually wanna fuck him”.

it wasn’t as if you had this crush on him outta nowhere.

no, your best friends brother wanted you just as much. you were sure of it.

as you walked further into the large home with sarah and kiara, you felt a pleasant nervousness settle in your tummy.

you stood straighter as soon as the three of you turned a corner and crossed paths with the man himself. your heart flipped and stomached tighten with arousal.

rafe stood there with his hands in his pockets, obviously not expecting to see any of you.

biting back your smile was hard as you looked up at him. his eyes were narrowed, brows drawn together that mirrored the small pout on his lips.

“the fuck kinda pogue convention is this—?”

“shut up and leave us alone,” sarah was quick to cut him off, moving past him with a shove of her shoulder against his. kiara smirked and pulled you along.

following after your friends like an obedient little puppy was second nature to you. but you stopped a few steps behind, dropping kiara’s hand casually.

you smiled as you looked over your shoulder at rafe. batting your eyelashes and and biting your glossy bottom lip.

“hi, rafey,” your voice was sugary sweet.

a singular brow raised, his gaze softening just so.

“uh— yeah, hi.”

you only giggled softly at his annoyed tone before skimping off to catch up with your girls once you heard kie call for you. missing the way his eyes lingered on your form, taking in the length of your legs and where they disappeared beneath your hand-me-down babydoll dress.

he almost choked when he saw the hem of your dress inch up just enough to catch a glimpse of the bottom of your ass cheeks.

rafe raked a hand through his hair and continued his way through the house, now an uncomfortable tightness in his khakis.

and if he hurried off to a bathroom to jerk off, that was nobodies business but his own.

you couldn’t sleep, no matter what you tried.

counting sheep like jj had taught you to one time, singing a song in your head, nothing was working.

you could only blame it on the dampness in your panties. the white lace stuck to your skin and caused you to shift around on the makeshift blanket bed uncomfortably.

since briefly seeing rafe earlier, your thoughts were caught up entirely in the interaction.

you played it back constantly and found yourself smiling and squeezing your thighs together anew.

thank god you had convinced the girls to let you sleep on the floor — you bit your lip as you slid off your shorts and panties. you balled up the lacey garment and stuffed it in the pocket of your sleep shorts once you had pulled them back up your legs.

you had a plan.

you tiptoed to the door, looking back once before you were gone down the hallway and steps. you saw light from under rafe’s door, and you smiled to yourself. before long, you found yourself in the kitchen.

maybe a glass of water would calm you down enough to sleep — where did they keep the glasses again?

cabinets opened and shut as quietly as you could manage, fearing waking anyone up, but making just enough noise.

just as you were beginning to run out of faith for water and your plan, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

you’ve never snapped your head around so quickly, it’s a surprise it didn’t just keep rolling and onto the floor.

“oh my god—!”

the squeak you let out caused rafe to smirk. he quickly gave your body a once over — heat rushing to his abdomen at the sight of your pebbled nipples peeking through the thin sleep shirt you wore.

one of your dainty hands clutched your chest, trying to will your heart to settle. a giggle bubbled up your throat.

“rafe! don’t scare me like that…”

he chuckled breathlessly. a sound that made your pulse quicken even more.

“what’re you snoopin’ around for, huh?” he mumbled, voice gravelly from being unused.

you looked cute — hair fluffed up and feet clad in stripped socks. cute in a way that made him wanna bend you over the counter and take you right there, middle of the night be damned.

“hmm? oh, jus’— wanted a drink…” you hum, turning and opening the cabinet.

“oh, so y’not just being nosey?”

“and what if i am?”

“i’d say you know better, sweetheart.”

his use of the pet name made you feel faint. you set the cup down next to you on the counter.

you weren’t a stranger to being called that. or anything like it.

the pogue boys often referred to you as such, patronizing in a way. but you never thought it could sound so good. never cared for it until now.

“it’s such a maze in here…” you changed the subject, leaning back against the counter. crossing your arms in a way that you knew made your breasts bulge.

you didn’t miss the quick glance down from rafe. or the harsh swallow.

“yeah? wouldn’t expect you to know anything ‘bout a house like this.”

he was teasing you. outrightly poking fun at the main difference between you both. kook and pogue.

you cocked your head at his words, batting your eyelashes, “c’mon, don’t be mean…”

he smiled and you felt hot all over.

desire completely flushed out any rage and embarrassment. you watched with bated breath as he adjusted his stance and tongued the inside of his cheek.

“did i lie?”

“… yes.”

he scoffed and leaned back against the counter opposite you. the mere feet between you both was charged with sparks.

the way he said your name in that playful, commanding tone had shivers going down your spine. his eyes freezing you in place.

“y’too pretty to be playin’ stupid like that.”

you bit your lip and smiled, “you think ‘m pretty?”

rafe bounced around for a response, trying to seem cool and collected.

suddenly you were all too aware of the stickiness between your thighs. all too aware of sarah and kiara sleeping upstairs. all too aware of the panties you stashed in your pocket.

you smirked and pushed off the counter.

“goodnight, rafe…”

he didn’t say anything as you walked off out of the kitchen, but you heard an intake of breath when you dropped the underwear out of your pocket.

you stopped in your tracks when you heard him choke out your name.

“hmm?”

sparkling eyes and a pretty smile made rafe forget all semblance of how to act.

after all, he was a selfish man.

“nothin’, uh— night, kid.”

too easy.

you hurried back up the stairs, looking over the banister and watching as he bent down and picked up your panties.

a moan threatened to slip past your lips when he brought them up to his face and smelled them.

needless to say, neither of you got any sleep that night.

rafe was losing his mind. he had to be.

what other explanation was there for him to have fisted his cock all night with your panties? painting his hand over and over and it still not feeling like enough.

he was embarrassed, yes, but he also wanted more. he wanted you.

it felt like divine intervention when he phone buzzed and your name popped up on his screen.

—

hiii

sent at 7:48 pm

—

he had been thinking about you all day, completely in his head.

anger and arousal fighting for dominance. it seemed arousal always came out on top.

—

What do you want

sent at 7:50 pm

—

rafe knew he was fucked when he actually felt bad for being short with you.

he scrolled back up through your previous messages. they were all innocent — you simply asking him to open the front door or even begging him to get you and the girls some weed.

he doesn’t know exactly when things changed, when you changed.

bzzz!

—

can u give me a ride :C sarah said she can’t

sent at 7:51 pm

Where you at

sent at 7:51 pm

—

yeah, rafe was thoroughly fucked.

but he really didn’t care anymore as he grabbed his keys off his nightstand and and shoved his feet into some shoes.

he couldn’t stand it anymore. and as he pulled out of the driveway, he knew something had to give.

“you’re a lifesaver, rafey.”

he only hummed in response, putting his truck in reverse and driving out of your quaint little workplaces parking lot.

some dumb pogue flower shop. rafe really didn’t give a shit if he was honest.

he stole glances at you in his passenger seat, looking so perfect and pretty. like you belonged there, belonged next to him.

he could feel himself start to grow hard in his pants when you crossed one leg over the other. the plush of your thighs looking oh-so inviting.

you smiled at him, and rafe rolled his eyes, looking back at the road ahead.

“what?”

“hmm? i can’t look at you?” you teased.

the scoff he let out made you wanna laugh, so you did. a sweet sound that often drove him insane.

and looked at him you did. eyes taking in every inch of exposed bicep that was peeking out from his polo. his skin was tanned from the summer sun and you found yourself wondering what it would look like with your lipstick all over it.

he grit his teeth, setting his jaw.

“y’know i— you’re not— you’re not slick,” the words fell from his mouth in a grumble.

“what—?”

you felt a rush of adrenaline when he pulled the familiar white lace out of his pocket and threw it onto your lap.

before you could question further, rafe pulled the truck to the side of the road. it was hidden between two trees, the setting sun helping to conceal it.

“y’think this shit is funny?” his voice was rough and you were unsure if the question was rhetorical. you stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.

it was tense and you couldn’t move. just stared at him blankly.

“i didn’t think that—“

“nah, you didn’t think, did you?”

“i’m— i—“

you didn’t know what to say or do. the last thing you expected was to be scolded by him. confronted by your own actions. but you couldn’t suppress the wave of need that surged through you.

“you— you want me? you want this?” he mumbled, eyes flickering between yours.

the question made you flush again. never in a million years did you think it would end up like this. that you would actually have him. your answer felt obvious.

“mhm.”

“words.” his command made you melt.

“yeah, yes, please,” you breathed and watched as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

rafe grasped your jaw and pushed his thumb into your mouth, feeling the warm muscle of your tongue wet against his skin. you responded eagerly, sucking on the digit.

“a’ight. then get in the fucking back.”

you registered to click of your own seatbelt and blinked as he reached past you and pushed open the door.

his thumb left your mouth with a pop and he pushed your face away, that mean way that you had always dreamt about. you had half a mind to do anything but what he told you to.

before you knew it, you were on your back and sprawled in the backseat with rafe on top of you. his hand shoved up your skirt, knuckle tortuously rubbing up and down against your panty clad clit.

you were a mess already.

rafe spent at least ten minutes grumbling about how much of a tease you were. detailing every time he just wanted to grab you and fuck you senseless. he made fun of you, of your slickness and delicate (although cheap) panties that were damp by your arousal.

he mocked you as you whined, but let you press pink lips up his arm. the kiss marks looking just as delicious as you thought.

despite the dirty talk and his hand now around your throat, he had yet to kiss you. you watched his mouth form words but you could hardly hear anymore, desperate for more. for anything he would give you.

“hey, hey, ‘m talkin’ to you. dumb fucking girl—“

his palm lightly connected with your cheek, the slight sting bringing a dazed smile to your lips.

rafe chuckled at the already fucked out expression on your face. he’d hardly done anything yet and you were already melted beneath him.

too fucking easy.

his voiced cooed lowly, squeezing your throat tighter, “c’mon, sweetheart. focus, yeah? can you do that f’me?”

you were nodding before he even finished speaking, hips rolling up against his hand as he pushed your panties to the side.

“kiss me? need it, please— need you, rafe—“

the harsh slap against your weeping cunt makes your eyes flutter and a gasping moan is drawn from your lips. you watch with an agape mouth as rafe leans down closer, lips just inches from yours.

“s’not my name, is it?” he tuts.

no fucking way.

you’re breathing heavily against his lips. chest heaving and hands grasping at the front of his shirt.

you knew what he wanted you to say. and you wanted it just as bad.

“daddy, daddy, please—“

that soft plea was all it took for him to lean in and close the gap between you. he devoured your mouth eagerly, parting your lips with his own.

you welcomed his tongue into your mouth, feeling it twist and swirl around yours. you did your best to keep up, but his fingers had started to rub circles against your clit. you were completely gone when he slid a finger in.

“y’got such a needy little pussy, huh? sucking my finger so tight—“

the way he mumbled against your lips would haunt you. he began curling his finger inside of you, searching for that spongey patch that would cause you to see stars.

once he found it, you couldn’t focus on kissing him back anymore. you sat open mouthed, soft sighs and bucking hips spurring him on.

“there it is— gooood girl. c’mon, gimme one and i’ll fuck you like you need,” he rasped out, sliding in a second finger.

the want you felt was unlike anything else. it didn’t take long to have you writhing helplessly beneath him. a half hearted warning of your impending release only making him devilishly smile.

you were brainless by the time he removed his hand and brought glistening fingers to your lips. it was second nature to let your mouth fall open and suckle his large fingers.

the trance only ended when you heard the clinking buckle of his belt. rafe pushed your knees against your chest, not before pulling the neckline of your tank top down to let your tits spill out. (“perfect fuckin’ tits. knew they’d be so gorgeous…”)

your hands pushed up his shirt, needing to see his toned chest. rafe pulled it over his head with one hand, the action alone could’ve made you cum again.

“gonna be a good girl and take it all?”

his words were emphasized by the head of his cock slotting between your folds. the sensation of his tip bumping against your swollen clit making you flinch.

he didn’t move until you spoke, words coming out rushed and slurred from arousal, “mhm, yeah, yeah—“

feeling him push into you made you see stars. he held your gaze and you watched as his brow furrowed in concentration, his mouth dropping into a low moan. he was so unfairly attractive.

once he bottomed out, you knew he ruined your pussy for anyone else. never had you felt so full. every vein and ridge of his dick suctioned by your gummy walls.

“nnngghh— ohmygod—“ you gasped out, feeling unable to breath as he spilt you in half.

rafe was unbelievably deep. his hips pressed right up against yours. he was watching as he disappeared into you, glazed over eyes as you arched your back off the seats.

his voice was strained, “s’pretty like this. taking me so well.”

you couldn’t make coherent sentences, you felt felt him everywhere. the way he had your knees pressed against your chest allowed him to slide in and out somehow deeper each time.

“i can’t— can’t— nnnngghhh—“ the sounds you were making sounded like sobs.

“yeah— yes, you can, baby. doing so well, letting me ruin this pretty cunt…”

rafe reached a hand down and pressed on your lower stomach. the pressure allowed for more stimulation of your g-spot but also allowed him to feel his cock thrusting in and out.

he took your hand and placed it, holding it against your abdomen with his. you choked at the feeling.

“feel that? that’s me. that’s daddy fuckin’ you stupid, yeah?”

“jesus fucking christ—“

rafe breathed out a laugh at your curse. you were becoming less and less coherent as he fucked you, your eyes threatening to roll back when his thumb found your clit again.

he slapped you again, urging your eyes back on him. “nuh-uh, look at me, kid, there ya go—“

tears flooded down your cheeks as his hips slapped against yours with more fervor. it was too much, your body was aching for release.

he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. the warmth of his mouth made you start rocking your hips to meet his. rafe groaned and increased his pace, the sticky wet sounds filling the truck.

it was sloppy and messy, you were almost embarrassed at how wet you were. rafe didn’t care though, not when he was finally claiming the girl he’s wanted for so long.

“mmf— y’gonna cum on this cock? gimme that shit, c’mon—“

you didn’t need another invitation. you were creaming on his pulsing length in seconds, hot white blinding your vision and a pleasant fuzziness blocking out your senses.

the warmth of his release made you shudder as he shallowly fucked into you with low groans that curled up into whines. his own orgasm made his rhythm stutter. he collapsed onto you in a sweaty heap.

neither of you spoke for a few moments, caught up in an intimate quiet that seemed so fragile. rafe littered kisses across your neck and collarbone. his touch soft in a way you’d never expect. you scratched his scalp with your painted nails, feeling a rush of affection when he practically purred.

finally you whispered, “are you… mad at me?”

his head snapped up, questioning and lingering lust clouding his blue eyes. he brought a hand up and brushed hair away from your face.

“no, ‘m not mad. never was…” he mumbled hoarsely.

the relief was visible in your tired features. rafe felt a pang of something in his chest… guilt? longing?

“do you… i mean… what just happened?” you asked dumbly, feeling the weight of confusion settling in your bones.

he shushed you, pressing his lips to yours so tenderly, it felt unreal. a stark contrast to the heated encounter you two just shared.

“lemme… take you out?”

the question felt foreign on his lips, a soft tone he never really used.

but your smile was radiant.

rafe felt stupid for not asking sooner if it meant he got to see that reaction. you nuzzled his nose with yours gently.

he huffed, feeling himself grow mushy under your adoring gaze. you just giggled in that precious way that made him feel weak. nodding eagerly and wrapping your arms around his neck.

your best friends brother was the one for you. you were sure of it.

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daintcas · 8 months ago

Text

lady killers ˗ˏˋ rafe cameron !

"man i'm a lady killer, if i want her i'mma steal her" / g-eazy

pairing. dealer!rafe cameron x innocent(ish)!reader

summary. his constant cycle of partying with privilege grants him anything he wants, until you show up to break the pattern.

contains. alcohol and drug use, tension, sexually suggestive, implied age gap, cliffhanger

the lifestyle comes with its perks, constantly surrounded by pretty girls who were more than willing to follow him upstairs. direct access to any substance he wanted, displayed messily across the polished coffee table at all times. not to mention the adrenaline-boosting boom of a surrounding party in some kid's ridiculously expensive house - thrown almost nightly.

it became a normality for him, whether or not he realized how unhealthy his habits may be. blinded by the attention, money, and already through-the-roof addition of popularity, the boy let himself be overcome by it all. but hey, isn't this how you're supposed to live life after graduation?

you, on the other hand, were never overly thrilled at the idea of occupying your time with what seemed to be an endless string of these things. that being said, it wasn't an unfamiliar scene after having wasted a couple of saturdays with friends before.

you also weren't one to deny the opportunity for a good night. which is why you didn't put up much of a fight when none other than sarah cameron insisted on your presence at a party she was hosting in her family's mansion.

she was friendly enough, but not to the extent of being by your side for the duration of the whole night because of an invite most likely given out to everyone in her contacts - that part had you a bit nervous. the idea of being stranded in a room full of highly intoxicated kids you hardly knew.

all precautions were eventually thrown out the window when you found yourself getting all dolled up in the bathroom mirror. mascara turning out perfect over a flawless base, hair down and flowing neatly, a strapless pale pink sundress you'd bought with sarah weeks ago tying it all together.

with one final application of lipgloss over expertly lined lips and a brief pose checking your reflection, you were headed out. fresh acrylics plucking your keys from the household bowl and looking down at your phone to check the time just as it rings, stopping your hand from unlocking the front door.

a sigh escapes you as you juggle everything in your hands to bring the device to your ear after blindly swiping to answer. a loud shout of your name has you flinching and furrowing your brows in confusion - and maybe annoyance. "yeah? hello?"

"c'mon, i'm outside!" a girl all but yells and it isn't until you hear a sweet, enthusiastic laugh that you recognize the voice.

"sarah?" you ask, though already having discarded the keys and slipped on your shoes lying ready by the doormat.

"let's go! i've got a party to entertain," the words are followed by the muffled sound of her shifting around, and you take it as your grace period to get outside before she takes off.

throwing open the door and hurrying down the steps of the front porch, you can't help but smile at the girl sitting in the driver's seat of a black jeep. beaming over at you, she hangs up the phone and ushers you over to the otherwise vacant car with a flailing hand.

the trip to tannyhill is filled with wide smiles and giggles over speakers blaring iconic summer songs. windows rolled down to take in an orangey-pink sky from the setting sun - which almost distracts from how sharp sarah takes what seems to be every turn in town.

the suv eventually comes to a stop after sliding down into the basement garage that screams wealth, right past all the cars lined up along the street. sarah hops out and offers a toothy grin while tossing her sunglasses in the center console.

"i'm so happy you're finally at one of my parties," she says while taking your hand and eagerly leading the way upstairs, her own dress swaying as she walks.

"me too," is all you offer in response, too entranced by the new level of rich that surrounds you while following blindly.

the mansion feels more like a maze as sarah leads you down and around hallways not yet crowded with partygoers. but, the blasting of music that vibrates the house says otherwise.

moonlight quickly replaces the sunshine, making visibility near impossible as you enter where the mass of everyone is. still hand in hand with sarah, you take the chance to look around.

between all the groups in the kitchen and on a makeshift dance floor, it's someone sitting among a circle of couches and chairs that has you doing a double take. turning back the second time is when you recognize the boy with his eyes still glued on you, wiping under his nose, to be rafe.

you don't miss the lazy smirk he shoots before sarah tugs you back to reality, finally dropping your hand and turning to stand face-to-face with the same excited smile.

"you'll be fine if i go say hi to a few people?" she asks, glancing across your face to genuinely gauge your feelings.

"'course. thanks, sarah," you answer convincingly enough that she's scurrying off to talk with whoever awaits her presence.

the best option you conclude is to go straight for the drinks. a quick scan of the counter and you're grabbing a red solo cup to fill with the first bottle you can get your hands on.

"better take slow sips of that," a voice behind you says, low and close enough to know it's you they're addressing. startled, you turn around, only to be face to face with rafe cameron. he must notice the way you tilt your head up with wide eyes, because he takes the opportunity to eye you up and step closer.

"you friends with sarah?" he asks as you set down the bottle of alcohol on the counter behind you, nodding casually - even with the way he's watching your every move so intently.

"mhm," you muster up, naturally a bit nervous standing under the mercy of 'kook prince' himself.

"yeahhh.." he draws out while taking a greedy eyeful of your whole being, tongue pressed to his cheek and making no effort to hide his arrogant smirk. there's a pause before he's nodding back towards the lounge he was previously sat without taking his eyes off you - your body. "y'wanna come with me and try the good shit?"

you look down at your cup when he taps it, swishing the cheap liquid while thinking over his offer. it doesn't take long before you're looking back up with a hesitant shake of your head and a small smile, murmuring, "don't think so.. not really my thing."

he tsks and shakes his head, taking it upon himself to ease the cup from your hand and positioning himself closer. he tilts his head to purposefully look down on you and get in your face, a smirk still present as he speaks lowly, "aww, c'mon. i'll keep you safe."

a nervous laugh and involuntary flush of your cheeks has you unable to refuse. rubbing your lip with a shy nod - admittedly not the most well-thought-out decision - and he's got a hand on your lower back to guide you, following close enough behind to allow his eyes to flicker subtly below your dress.

you approach the collection of seats, wary but not completely oblivious. rafe sits you down on a loveseat, hand moving to wrap around your waist and pull you to his side. the attention from this boy blurs the scene around you, rolled bills on the table, and various baggies with a particular white substance.

"so, um, what's the.. 'good' stuff?" you ask tentatively, looking up at him and shifting in the seat.

"'s all right here, baby," his grin is almost malicious and his eyes shamelessly drop to your lips. removing the arm around you, he spreads his legs and lifts his hips to fish for something in his back pocket.

you take the opportunity to look around at his company and it's no surprise to find topper and kelce among other random guys - even a couple girls who admittedly look a bit older than you and sarah. before processing the thought, you're looking to rafe for reassurance.

he, however, is focused intently on setting up a line of powder on your side of the table with a sharp black card. he sits back with a satisfied grin and looks over at you. "first one's free."

you stare up at him with big, cautious eyes for a moment before turning to the intimidatingly thick string of white.

he chuckles and uses a finger to smudge the neat line, collecting a less daunting amount on the digit. a nod of his head signals he wants you closer, so you do, positioning your body to face him.

snaking a hand to hold firmly behind your neck, he tilts your head back only slightly and prepares to bring his finger to your nose. a raise of his brow asks for permission and you nod.

the substance shoots through you unexpectedly quick which has you screwing your eyes shut and wincing. the reaction only amuses rafe and he moves the arm around your shoulder and tugs you into him once again.

finding solace in the embrace, you allow yourself to sink into his chest - an unsafe level of vulnerability. everything is loud, the booming of music and people feeling increasingly suffocating.

rafe laughs again, smirking in a way that now seems taunting. he takes a good look at you before leaning in to let his warm breath brush against your ear. "y'know, you're real pretty."

that's when you really think about what's happening right now. laying against rafe cameron - who for one reason or another seems to have taken a liking to you. the drug pumping through you and butterflies in your stomach has your heart beating with excitement.

it also has you fluttering your lashes up at rafe with a dopey smile, telling him all he needs to know. all it took was a dot of coke and he's got you right where he wants you.

"why don't you let me take you upstairs?" he presses in a way that shows the line has worked a million times before.

but who are you to turn him down? there's no denying how tempting he is and your attraction towards him. but instead, you shrug and look around in search of sarah.

it takes a minute before you catch her eyes and are met with a concerned yet angry expression. she's quickly by your side and pulling you up from the couch, glaring down at her brother.

"leave my friends alone, rafe." with that, sarah is tugging you away and back through the crowd. your hazy state makes it hard to resist, but you manage to look back at the boy on the couch. he's sitting back, clearly amused but not deterred.

a wink is all he gives before paying his attention back to his friends, leaving you to wonder what all of this meant.

one thing about rafe, though, is when he sets his sights on something - someone - he gets what he wants. he knows he will, and you're no exception.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt

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avenging-fandoms · 1 month ago

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The Beach - John B Routledge

Summary: You're new to the Pogues, you've been with them for over a year. Sarah and John B have been broken up for a little bit after he found out she cheated, and you hadn't had a boyfriend since you left Rafe on the boat. He takes you and his friends to the beach- only to run into your ex and his friends. One can only imagine when the Kooks and Pogues clash again.

Content warning: Violence, mentions of kidnapping and drugging.

Word count: 2,840

hi hi hi! look a little different? i wanted to umph up my writings and i feel very proud currently. i've quit writing on here a lot but i should just stop posting about it because i end up getting a new fixation or one comes back and i start writing again

this one is a bit long, i got a little carried away. i just love john b and feel he's so underrated

so hi or hello again! i can't wait to hear all your ideas!

please like and reblog!!

(divider credit: @enchanthings )

“The waves are gorgeous today, you comin’?” John B holds onto the doorframe as he leans in your room. You close your book a bit, eyes narrowing.

“I don’t surf, John B. But I’d love to watch you surf.” You smile softly and put your bookmark in, standing up and stretching after spending a few hours in your bed.

John B took in every inch of you as you lean your head back. Cold air sucks through his teeth slowly as his eyes watch your muscles tighten on your stomach, your arms above your head, listening to the soft grunts and whimpers you make.

John B clears his throat, blinking a few times. “Right, uh, I’ll-we’ll be in the Twinkie.” You stand up straight and nod, turning away from him. John B turns quickly on his heels and sighs, running a hand through his hair and heading outside.

JJ is tying the last board to the top of the van when you come out of the house in your bikini and one of John B’s button ups. Kiara spots you first and smirks, nudging JJ who whistles. Sarah rolls her eyes.

You hop in behind the driver’s seat, pushing your sunglasses on your head and putting your bag between your feet. “I packed a few snacks, I didn’t know if there was a cooler or anything but I didn’t want you guys to get hungry.” You smile softly at the Pouges and they all thank you, JJ offering a beer in return, which you decline. You did share his joint with him.

The Pogues found you on the boat where they were saving their friend Sarah, John B’s girlfriend at the time. Rafe had taken you on board as his girlfriend-hostage. You told him you didn’t want to go but Rose gave you and Sarah a tea to make you sleepy, and Rafe hated himself for it.. for a few weeks.

The Pogues didn’t know you and you didn’t know them, but they couldn’t leave you behind. You jumped in the water and John B pulled you into their boat, making sure you were okay before speeding away.

It was awkward the first few days. You didn’t say much and they didn’t try to initiate conversation- except for John B.

No matter if you were sitting by yourself, he made sure to go over and make sure you felt included. He’d bring you over to the group if they were playing a game, and when they played 21 questions, you opened up to them a bit more.

You were still hesitant around them, not speaking up when someone asks what they should do or telling someone they’re wrong. You were new and didn’t feel like you had a right to speak up, as you weren’t technically a Pogue.

John B parks on the beach and you smile, dropping your sunglasses on your nose and stepping onto the warm sand with a relaxed groan, arms out wide as you soak in the sun.

His ears perk up and the hair on his neck tickles him, making him rub it aggressively. His eyes move to his side mirror, watching his shirt blow in the wind on you, exposing your whole torso.

“Are you gonna make a move or are you just going to keep staring at her creepily?” JJ teases and John B pushes his friend’s head. They hop out and help the others pull the boards down.

As you reach up to help bring the last one down, you hear engines roaring behind you. Topper’s car comes into view and you gasp softly, knowing Rafe was most likely behind him.

John B notices your shaky fingers and grabs your hands, pushing his thumb in the hair tie around your wrist. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay.” You look at him and nod, your face turning white as you watch Rafe open his door and step out, eyes on you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?” You nod and John B hugs you tightly, trying to correct your nerves.

“Pretty sure that’s Rafe’s girl you’re feeling up. Do you have a thing for sloppy seconds?” Topper laughs as he stands in the middle of the Kooks and Pogues.

John B’s jaw clenches and he starts to walk over. “John B.. hey, hey! You can’t fight, no fighting, please.” You beg, gripping his forearm. He looks at your hand then back in your eyes, nodding.

He meets up with Topper and you couldn’t watch. You were afraid a fight was going to start, and Rafe couldn’t stop staring at you and you could feel it.

John B eventually came back over with a sour look on his face, grabbing his board and sticking it in the sand to pull off his shirt. He looks at you and you catch it, John B giving you a soft smile.

You find a spot for your towel where you were blocked from Rafe’s view but you could still see every part of the ocean. You planned on reading your book, but you couldn’t when John B was surfing perfectly.

Your chin rests in your hands with your elbows on your knees as you watch the boys in the water. JJ and Topper surf next to each other only to have Topper wipe completely out, resulting in you folding over in laughter at him.

John B and JJ take a rest in the water so you take the opportunity to pull out your book. Before you could get through the page, you hear a knock on the Twinkie.

“Yn.” Rafe smiles softly and you stand up quickly, glancing over at the ocean where John B had his back turned.

“Rafe.. I don’t.. I don’t want to talk to you.” You wrap your arms around yourself to calm yourself but it doesn’t work. Every Pogue was in the ocean. The Kooks’ view was blocked. No one was paying attention.

Rafe takes a step closer and you take a big one back. “Yn.. I just want to apologize for what I did to you.” His voice sounds sincere but his eyes tell a different story. You knew Rafe, he couldn’t be sympathetic. He was just like his father, how Rafe always wanted to be.

“Rafe, please..” your voice trails to a whisper, pleading him to leave you alone with your fingers lacing together. John B turns around to check on you, and does a double take when he sees Rafe and you slowly stepping back.

“Shit. JJ, let’s go!” The two paddle back to shore, leaving their boards in the sand by the water as they run over to you. John B stands in front of you and JJ stands in front of him.

“The fuck are you doing over here, Rafe?” John B darkens his eyes and he pushes you behind him. You were sure John B could feel your heartbeat on his back. Your nose touches his shoulder blade, peeking your eyes over his shoulder.

"Oh, I just wanted to talk to Yn, John B. Is there a problem with me talking to my girlfriend?" Your stomach starts to spin. John B clenches his fists.

"I'm pretty sure she stopped being girlfriend when you had your step mommy drug her and you kidnapped her." JJ spits and you smile softly at him defending you too.

"Yn, I really am sorry." Rafe steps forward again and John B puts an arm around you from behind him, his hand on your ribs as he pulls you into his salty back.

"You need to go, Rafe," John B's fingers grip his shirt on your body, your cheek pressing against his back where his heartbeat drums loudly in your ear. "Now."

"Scurry on back to your Kooks, don't worry about Yn, you have a girl over there." JJ shoos his hand and Rafe backs away, trying to get a look at you again.

"I'll see you around Yn!" Rafe shouts as he passes the twinkie.

"No you won't, Rafe!" John B yells back.

You try everything to keep the tears from falling but your hands cover your eyes as you begin to shake. "Hey, hey, hey!" John B catches you and holds you tightly close to him as you cry. He sits you both down on your towel slowly.

"How could he think that was okay?" You weep, leaning into John B's shoulder. He sighs and shakes his head, rubbing your arm to help calm your sobs. "Sometimes I just wanna.." You fist a pile of sand, clenching it tightly before letting the particles fall through your fingers.

"Hit him?" John B chuckles and the look you gave him made him stop. He hadn't seen a look like this from you before. "Kill him."

"I feel like I could finally breathe if he wasn't here.” You sigh and John B clears his throat and you can’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, that sounded crazy.” John B starts to laugh too, shaking your body against his with his hand on your shoulder.

“I can’t say I blame you, honestly.” You two finally look at each other and a soft gasp catches in your throat, your faces close to one another. “He never deserved you."

John B's hand squeezes your shoulder, letting out a shaky breath as he looks at your lips. You lean in slowly only to gasp excitedly and turn John B's head with your hand holding his chin. "It's a hatch!"

You pull him up with you, calling the others over. Kiara squats next to you as you watch them scurry to the sea, JJ and John B making a path for them.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was climbing into the driver's seat of his car, starting the engine and revving it. You and John B talk to the turtles as they push through the heavy sand, Kiara taking notice of Rafe in the car. "Hey, stop! There's a hatch!"

You turn around and hear the rev, eyes widening as you look between the turtles and the car. You race to the twinkie, hurrying to find anything that could stop Rafe from killing any of these turtles.

Kiara frantically waves her arms and shouts. JJ and John B are trying to get the turtles to move faster without disturbing nature. You, however, found an old metal baseball bat.

Fuck no fighting, fuck staying quiet, fuck being scared. It was your turn to be scary.

You grip the baseball bat tight in your palms, knuckles turning white when Rafe's car comes into view. You stand in his path, running towards him as he drives and slamming the baseball bat into his windshield.

Glass shatters in his lap and on the hood, a piece cutting your cheek. He brakes aggressively and you don't stop swinging. Sideview mirrors, headlights, tail lights, windows, everything.

"Fuck! You!" You yell over and over, Rafe watching with his hands on his head. "What? Were you gonna try and kill me again, huh?! Did you tell those Kook cunts how you drugged and kidnapped me, or are you still trying to portray yourself as a 'good guy' just like your dad?" You scream as you continue to shatter his back windshield.

"Yn, stop!" JJ grabs the bat with one hand and wraps an arm around your waist, puling you away with John B taking the bat.

"Expect a visit from Shoupe." Rafe smirks.

"Hope your buddies didn't catch me saying you kidnapped and drugged me or you should expect one from Shoupe too!" You yell, Rafe looking at all his friends recording and his smirk drops as well as the color in his face.

JJ carries you all the way over to the Twinkie and puts you inside, pointing his finger at you. "You're in timeout." You snicker and lay back against the floor, covering your eyes with your arms.

You couldn't believe how quickly your mood flipped. But the threat of killing baby turtles sent you over the edge. You sit up and lean out of the van, watching the last few turtles become one with the sea. John B comes over with his board and reaches up to put it on top of his van. You back up slowly to sit against the seats and stare at his body stretching in front of you.

He stands flat on his feet and you look at your nails before he could catch you staring. He helps put the other ones on top and you glance every now and then at his v-line. Everyone eventually gets back in and the drive home is quiet, and you felt at fault.

You wanted to find your place in this wonderful group of friends but you fear you just ruined it. The twinkie squeals to a stop and you're the first one out of the van. John B watches you run into the house, a sigh escaping his nose as his eyelashes flutter.

Everyone disperses elsewhere and John B follows you in to your room. Your door was cracked a bit, John B peeking his eye in to see you laying on your side with a pillow over your head, bandaid on your cheek. He knocks softly to make his presence known but the squeaky hinges did it for him.

You didn't budge. He sat next to you on your bed, looking at the closed door before laying next to you with his back on yours. You two lay like that for a while, just passing breaths back and forth. You could hear JJ and Kiara laughing together outside through your window.

Finally, you roll on your back and stare at the ceiling, studying the popcorn divots in it. John B lays on his left side, hand holding up his head as he looks at you.

He watches your eyelashes as you blink, the twitch of your lips, studying every freckle. You purse your lips softly and he can't stop staring. The tip of your tongue pokes out slightly to wet your lips and you deeply sigh and close your eyes.

John B lifts his hand, using the smallest tip of his finger to trace down your nose, exhaling as he drags. He does it again but to your eyebrows. Your lips part just a bit and finger brushes over the delicate skin.

"He never deserved you." His voice was barely a whisper when his finger traces your jaw, his words from earlier filling the air. You open your eyes, John B's face hovering near yours.

You move closer to him, fully under him now. Your hand pushes back the hair that falls in front of his eyes and you drown in the color. "But he did deserve the bat to the car." You wink and he laughs. His smile slowly drops and he's back to staring intently at you. "Are you ever going to kiss me?" You whisper, a rumble of a laugh coming from John B's throat before pressing his lips softly to yours.

Your arm wraps around his neck and you pull his weight on top of you, his hand holding his body up a bit as his lips move perfectly against yours. Your fingers grip his hair, your right hand pushing down his back and scratching up softly, John B pulling back while biting your lip with a soft groan.

"I've been wanted to do that for so long." He kisses your cheek and jaw, your arms tightening around him to bring him into a hug. "I'm so happy you jumped off that boat, Yn."

"Me fucking too." You kiss his chest and he falls next to you on the other side of you now, the both of you on your sides as you look at each other. "Do you think Sarah's going to be annoyed?"

"I honestly really don't care what Sarah thinks." He pecks your nose. "I've been dreaming about this day since I saw you reading on the hammock a while ago." He blinks a few times as if he was reliving it all over again. "You were always reading, you still are. You still weren't really talking a lot but you started to, even after all that shit in Barbados." He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest.

"I know, I just.. I was new, I still am. I don't want to say something and then you guys get mad because I'm not a Pogue."

"You are most certainly a Pogue now." He kisses you a few times before continuing his story. "I remember it was sundown, you love to read and watch the sunset. But I remember this time, you weren't reading, you were nodding off. The book kept falling forward and it eventually fell on your chest. You just looked so peaceful." He wasn't looking at you when he told this story, but out the window to the hammock.

"Sarah is such a fucking idiot." You breathe before kissing him again, rolling on top of him with your hands on his chest. "She didn't deserve you."

"Those fucking Camerons, they have no idea what they’re missing."

“Sucks for them.” You smirk, kissing him again and holding his neck as you deepen the kiss, John B’s fingers tangled in your hair.

#john b #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b x you #john b imagine #john b fanfiction #john b fic #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge fanfiction #john b routledge imagine #outer banks #outerbanks #obx #netflix #outer banks netflix #chase stokes

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thriftedtchotchkes · 11 months ago

Text

you're a mean one, mr. miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and ellie decide the solution to joel's grinch-like approach to the holidays lies in finding him the perfect gift

warnings: jackson era, grumpy old man!joel, significant other!reader, fluff, mild angst, gift giving, christmas at the miller's, so many polaroids

word count: 3.8k

12 days of pedro masterlist - ty to @hellishjoel for organizing this project <3

The Miller household always gets a little tense around the holidays. When the days shorten and snow begins to fall, Joel throws himself into patrols and plans for winter-proofing Jackson, and it's all he'll talk about for months. It's obvious he does it on purpose.

Christmas is basically an unspoken no-no under his roof, and there might as well be a swear jar for the word if his reaction is any indication. He refuses to acknowledge it and only tolerates the day itself because he knows it makes you and Ellie happy.

You just wish it made him happy, too. You know it used to. Every year, Tommy regales stories about their Christmases in Austin as kids, and later with Sarah. Joel loved Christmas.

They used to visit the tree farm, pick the tallest, fullest tree they could fit in their living room, and decorate it the very same day. Their attic and even parts of their garage were home to lights and tinsel in every color you could think of, and ornaments Sarah brought home from art classes and the yearly holiday fair at school.

All of that changed after the outbreak. It wasn't just her passing that did it. It wasn't even the threat of death or worse lurking around every corner. It was time.

Joel just got used to life without it. After 22 years of missed holidays, he decided he didn't actually miss them at all. He couldn't afford to spare precious resources or energy on anything that wasn't necessary for survival. But that isn't the point of Christmas, is it?

You celebrate your loved ones and their joy. You celebrate life. Here in Jackson, he finally has all of that, but if Joel is anything, he's a stubborn man set in his ways. You can tell he's still resistant to the idea because he genuinely believes there are better uses for his time.

You can also tell he's afraid to let his guard down. You just haven't figured out a way to show him he doesn't have to be. No one's safety is guaranteed in the world you live in, but you're protected now. And that responsibility isn't solely on him anymore.

If you could give him anything for Christmas this year, it would be peace. One day, even just a few hours of tensionless shoulders and a wrinkle-free brow would be a gift for all of you. He deserves to enjoy something merry and cheerful again, just for the sake of it.

So, you ask the person who knows him best in the world for help.

"What do we think about getting Joel a Christmas gift this year?"

Ellie glances up from her guitar with the most incredulous look you've ever seen on her face.

"Depends. Do you have a death wish?" she jokes, draping her arm over her instrument so she's sitting more comfortably. She's settling in—you both know this is about to be a painful conversation.

"No, but—," you sigh, leaning against the door behind you. It's still chilled, even through your coat, from when you barged into the shed and interrupted her practice. "I don't know. He wouldn't make that big of a deal, would he? It doesn't have to be anything flashy, just something small. Something nice."

"So, you wanna get Joel something nice for a holiday he hates? That makes total sense," she says, rolling her eyes.

You don't appreciate the sarcasm, but you expected it. She knows as well as you do that Joel won't be thrilled by the gesture, if he even accepts it.

"El, come on. I could really use your help here," you try to appeal to the part of her that usually can't say no to you, and thankfully she's starting to cave. "If there's anyone who can come up with a present Joel will actually like, it's you."

She sighs. Her fingers drum an arrhythmic beat on the wood grain while she thinks, a habit she must've picked up from Joel.

"Look, Joel's not really a 'thing' kinda guy," she replies, and she's probably right. He's never been the kind of guy who has physical attachments. "When's the last time he actually gave a shit when something broke or got lost? Even his watch is broken."

"Yeah, but that's different. You know it's different," you counter softly. But you can see the point she's trying to make. "Okay, so we don't get him a 'thing'."

She nods, waiting for you to offer another idea, but you're even more stumped than you were when you got here.

"Maybe you can draw him something?" you grimace, grasping at straws now.

"His house is full of shit I've drawn," she deadpans. "Plus, I thought this was an us gift. That sounds like a 'me doing all the work' gift."

You let out a frustrated groan, and your head thunks dully against the door. You knew this wasn't going to be an easy task, but you thought it would at least be possible. Joel's a complicated man—it's one of the things you love most about him—but his wants and needs are surprisingly simple.

He loves a home-cooked meal, especially meat and potatoes. He enjoys cold beers with Tommy on the porch during the summer and walking Ellie through complicated picking patterns when she's stuck on a song. He likes relaxing on the couch and watching old Westerns or cheesy action movies, and craves your body, soft and pliant, under his after a frustrating day on patrol.

But you want this to mean more than any of that. A special something that goes beyond the norm to loosen some of the springs that keep him wound up tight and constantly in motion.

You glance around Ellie's space as your hope begins to dwindle, and the corkboard above her bed catches your eye. It's always been there, covered in doodled-on scrap paper and photos of her family and friends, and you're positive you've seen it hundreds of times since you've been in Jackson. But this time, it gives you an idea. The idea.

"That Polaroid camera you found in Eugene's basement—the one in the library. Does it work?"

Ellie's brows furrow at your sudden question. She clearly didn't expect it, but you're hoping she'll be on board once she finally catches on.

"Uhh, yeah, Cat and I were messing around with it the other day. Worked pretty well for us," she replies hesitantly, pointing at the entertainment console next to you. "It's next to the PlayStation."

Humming in response, you squat in front of the shelf to inspect it. It's in great condition, even better than you expected. Even the flash button lights up and whirs just like you remember.

Before she can protest, you whip around and snap an extremely candid, brightly lit photo of her. If the look on her face is the same one you just caught on film, then you're already off to a great start.

"Dude, what the fuck? What was that for?" she groans in annoyance, blinking the bright spots out of her vision.

"A scrapbook," you grin. "For Joel."

She's still glaring at you as she rubs her eyes, but she bites back whatever retort she was about to say. You watch her expectantly as she chews on the idea, relief blooming in your chest when she finally nods.

"I guess that could work," she says slowly, still thinking over the logistics in her head. But then she frowns. "When exactly did you plan on taking all those photos? Not to be a downer, but Christmas is in like, a week."

Damn, she's right again. It'll be hell in a handbasket to fill an entire scrapbook in that amount of time, and even if you manage it, it'll be a half-assed attempt at best.

No, if you're going to do this, then you're going to do it right. No rushed or slapstick presents for the man who already hates Christmas—Joel deserves better than that.

"What if we let Joel do his bah-humbug thing one last time? That's probably his idea of a perfect gift, anyway. Then next year, it'll be this," you hand her the fully-developed Polaroid.

It shows Ellie hugging the guitar Joel made for her, but there's no sign of the shocked annoyance that followed the camera flash. Instead, she's smiling. She has that rare, unguarded expression on her face, the one reserved only for people she trusts. It's a tender moment of peace, forever frozen in time.

She looks up at you, and you can see it in her eyes. She gets it, now.

"You do realize it's still a 'thing' present though, right?" she interjects playfully, and you have to resist the urge to grab the wood polishing cloth on the table next to you and swat her with it.

"Yeah, but it's a sappy thing. Admit it, Joel's a huge sap and you know it. You said it yourself, his house is basically a glorified fridge with your art magnetized to the walls."

She rolls her eyes again, but you can see the smile tugging at her lips. She knows it's true.

"So, you'll help me?" you ask, daring to hope that she'll agree.

"As long as you don't pull this shit again, I'll do whatever you want," she lifts the Polaroid, shooting you a dirty, but affectionate look before handing it back to you.

A grin breaks out across your face, and you bolt across the room to hug her awkwardly around the instrument still sitting in her lap. She places it down so she can wrap her arms around you properly.

Physical affection has never really been Ellie's thing but if you catch her at the right moment on the right day, you might get lucky. Today, you do.

"So, when do we get started?" she asks, pulling away.

"Right now," you reply, unable to contain your excitement. For the first time in over two decades, Joel Miller might actually have a merry Christmas, and that's something to celebrate.

"Now?" she gapes at you, looking over her shoulder longingly at her guitar as you drag her out of the shed. She barely has enough time to grab a coat before you're out in the cold with nothing but each other, a camera, and a plan.

"Now."

ONE YEAR LATER

Jackson in the spring is one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen, even among your memories of the world pre-outbreak. Snow remains on the mountain peaks in the distance, but the foliage below blooms with the promise of warmer weather. Somehow, you managed to capture it all—fresh flowers in the shop windows, friends and neighbors shedding their coats and congregating in the streets, and the post-winter excitement that spreads more and more with each sunny day.

You hid the stack of photographs in an empty jumbo box of tampons in the hall closet, positive they’d be safe from Joel’s prying eyes while you and Ellie continued your mission.

In the summer, two new foals were born, and Ellie and Maria spent almost every day at the stables to help out where they could. They even named them—Shimmer was Maria’s choice, and Ellie named the other Callus just to piss off Joel. Not only did it work, but it resulted in some of the cutest pictures of the season.

Joel and Tommy built a porch swing for Maria and their rambunctious toddler and spent countless balmy nights drinking Tommy's extra-strength whiskey and shooting the shit. They even broke out their guitars every so often and managed to bully Ellie into playing with them once or twice. You caught that on camera, too.

Slowly but surely, the memory box filled up, and the photos were transferred to a scrapbook you and Ellie made yourselves—with a little local help. One of the school teachers happened to be a former librarian with a bookbinding hobby, and graciously gave you a treasure trove of old, tattered books that were perfect for your project.

By autumn, everything was falling into place. Ellie adorned those pages with painted leaves in shades of red, orange, and yellow to complement the photos you took at the town’s annual Harvest Festival and Thanksgiving potluck. You hopped around from booth to booth, table to table, and thanked your lucky stars that Eugene was a hoarder and held onto every pack of film he found over the years.

Now, it's the night before Christmas and you have a single shot left. One last photo intended for the final page, but you can’t think of anything you haven’t already documented. Looking around Tommy’s living room, there are plenty of moments you’d love to capture, and yet none of them feel like the moment.

How the Grinch Stole Christmas plays in the background while you sit on their couch, curled into Joel’s side with Ellie’s head on your lap, but you’re barely paying attention, still lost in your thoughts. Joel isn’t paying attention, either—he was unsurprisingly averse to the movie to begin with—so when you don’t laugh along with everyone else at the Grinch’s antics, he immediately knows something’s up. He kisses your temple, careful not to jostle Ellie.

“What’s got you so in your head you’re not even laughin’ at Jim Carrey? I thought you loved this movie,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear. His familiar Southern twang somehow warms you up more than the fireplace crackling next to the television.

“I do. I think I’m just getting a little sleepy, is all,” you reply softly, sagging into him. “Winter dance prep sucked this week. It’s like everyone conveniently forgot they volunteered to help.”

He nods, mumbling an apology into your hair.

“Guess that makes sense. All that runnin’ around you’ve been doing with that camera of yours probably ain’t helpin’ either,” he says offhandedly, and your brows furrow in response.

It’s not the first time he’s mentioned your sudden interest in photography, but with his gift sitting less than 10 feet away under Tommy and Maria’s Christmas tree, it seems more than a little suspicious. You catch Ellie glancing up at you in your peripheral, and you meet her gaze as discreetly as you can.

“Yeah, maybe,” you laugh it off, hoping it doesn’t sound as tense to Joel’s ears as it does to yours.

“What are you doin’ with all of those photos anyway? I swear, you take ‘em and then they disappear into thin air,” he presses on, none the wiser.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you joke, shaking your head as if that’ll shake off all of his incoming questions. But it doesn’t work nearly as well as you hoped.

“Y’know, I was wonderin’ that myself,” Tommy interjects from the recliner to your right. “You’ve been takin’ photo after photo for almost a year, and I don’t think I’ve seen a single one.”

Maria scoffs next to him, coming to the rescue before you’re forced to come up with a believable explanation.

“Mind your own damn business,” she smacks him in the chest, then shoots you a sympathetic look.

You asked for her help not long after you and Ellie started planning Joel’s gift, so she knows how important this is. The last thing she’s going to do is let her husband’s need to stir the pot ruin it. But Tommy’s not the type of guy to give in that easily.

“I’m just sayin’, might be nice take a look at ‘em. You probably got some good ones of the kids in there, ‘specially from birthdays and holidays—,” he manages to get out before Ellie cuts him off.

“Can you guys have this conversation somewhere else? Some of us are actually trying to watch the movie,” she sits up from her spot on your lap to glare in his direction.

Then, Tommy abruptly stands like something just occurred to him and strides across the room to the mantle above the fireplace—right where you set the camera down earlier. Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Hold up. This thing’s still got one shot left, don’t it?” he asks excitedly, and you’re not sure how to shut him down without drawing too much attention to yourself or sounding mildly hysterical.

“Well, yeah, but—“

“Oh shit, s’got a timer and everythin’,” he continues, fiddling with its limited settings. He turns back towards the rest of the group and holds up the camera with a grin. “C’mon, everybody get together. We’re takin’ our first official Christmas card photo.”

“But, Tommy—,” you try again, but you’re drowned out by Joel’s sad attempt to leave the room.

“Look, I said I’d watch the movie, but I sure as hell didn’t agree to take a damn Christmas photo,” he grumbles, moving to stand, but you latch onto his flannel before he gets too far. He softens at your downtrodden expression and settles back in.

“Just to be clear, m’doin this for her, not for you,” he amends his previous statement gruffly, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You kiss his cheek gratefully, and Ellie pretends to gag as she shuffles to sit between your legs.

“Whatever you say, big brother. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty. Think you can handle that?” Tommy teases him, making one final adjustment to the camera's placement. “Alright y’all, here we go.”

He sets the timer, then runs to the couch, squishing into the only available spot between Maria and an armrest. Everyone huddles together with varying levels of smiles and grimaces on their faces while you wait for the camera to go off. Except, it doesn't.

“Wait, how long did you set the timer for?” you peer around Maria to see Tommy looking genuinely dumbfounded.

“…Does it not just go 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, shoot?” he asks sheepishly.

"Oh my god, are you kidding me?" Ellie groans, leaning back against you, and the entire couch bursts out laughing.

And in that moment, the flash goes off.

Yeah, this is the one.

The photo in your hands feels like the culmination of every memory you made and preserved in the past year. Five faces—and one tiny sleeping one—look up at you, fully developed and as happy as you've ever seen them.

Tommy and Maria sit side by side with their son in her lap, their heads thrown back in laughter. Next to them, Ellie sits between your legs, mid-knee slap, as you cackle with your chin resting on top of her head.

And then there's Joel, grinning from ear to ear as he looks on at the family he's fought so hard to protect. The family that's safe and sound, and enjoying an ordinarily special day, just for the sake of it. You can only hope that a book full of photos and everything it represents will be enough to convince him once and for all that it's the truth.

As you slide the final Polaroid into place, Joel sidles up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

"What's all this?" he watches curiously as you close the book and swipe your hand lovingly across the cover. Then, you pick it up and turn in his embrace, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"A gift," you reply carefully, hugging it to your chest.

You glance over to where Ellie's still sitting in the living room, but she shakes her head and offers you a small smile, her delicate way of telling you that you're on your own. You take a deep breath before continuing.

"It's a Christmas present from me and Ellie," you explain, hoping to convey even a fraction of what this means to you. "Look, we know this isn’t necessarily your favorite day, but...we still wanted to do something nice for you."

He nods, his expression frustratingly unreadable. But then he does something unexpected.

"Y'gonna keep huggin' it or are you gonna show it to me?" he drawls jokingly, and your brows shoot up in shock.

"You wanna see it?"

His face falls, and you immediately feel terrible at the brief wave of hurt that crosses his features. You didn't mean to sound so surprised, but you didn't anticipate this easy acceptance.

"'Course I do. The two of you spent a whole year workin' on this thing, why wouldn't I?"

That grin you know he loves lights up your entire face, and you turn to place his gift back on the counter. Flipping to the first page, you step aside and let him explore it for himself.

He takes in each moment of each season slowly, running his fingers across Ellie's doodles between photos and in the margins. Spring is framed by butterflies that you're somehow just realizing are painted in all of Sarah's favorite colors.

Ellie added so many painstaking details you'd never talked about. You're not even sure how she knew something like that, but you're grateful it's there. Joel notices it too, and reaches down to take your hand, gripping it tightly for the rest of the book.

He's silent as flips through summer and fall, and when he finally reaches winter, you feel him begin to tremble beside you.

The last page sits open in front of you, the photo from earlier flanked on either side by notes from you and Ellie. As he reads, then rereads them, you can see the cogs turning. He's starting to understand why you did this—and how something as simple as a photograph isn't just a look back on a life well-lived. It's a reminder to keep living.

“This is…,” his brows furrow as he tries to find the words to express the conflicting thoughts racing through his head.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t get you anything," is what he ultimately settles on, but when he looks up at you, his eyes are wet. You immediately drop his hand to cup his cheeks.

"You didn't need to. I have everything I've ever wanted right here," you tell him gently, brushing away the tears threatening to fall.

You glance over at the familiar faces in the living room, the same ones looking up at you from the page below, and he follows your gaze. The tension in his body begins to bleed away the longer he watches them, and you learn the wrinkle in his brow isn't actually the permanent fixture it always seemed to be.

He reaches up to cover one of your hands with his own, and you can feel his heart racing through his fingertips. In the back of your mind, you wonder if this is the moment it happens. If his heart grew three sizes bigger today, and if he's finally ready to give himself the gift of peace.

“Merry Christmas, Joel Miller," you whisper, kissing him deeply as the sweet voice of Cindy Lou Who brings the movie credits rolling in the distance to a close.

thanks for reading and happy holidays!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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joelmillerisapunk · 7 months ago

Text

Beach Daddy IV. Got Me Feeling Vertigo

Rich bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist • Masterlist

Wordcount: 11,847

Summary: The weight of your secrets and the impending danger from Todd threaten to tear you apart. Will you find the courage to confess your feelings to Joel, or will you let fear and deceit ruin your chance at love?

Warnings: 18+, this ones just back on its drama - boo Todd 👿 yay Joel 😘, tis fluffy, we meet Marnie (Sarah's mom), more on Blaine. Just Joel being the hard-headed but southern gentleman he is.

Notes: hiiiii! I hope you enjoy! Happy May 💐 Comments and reblogs and thoughts are always appreciated ilysm for reading these mammoth chapters and sticking it out. Ty @saradika-graphics for the divider

“Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."

You fumble for the doorknob at your back, and the door swings open behind you, almost causing you to trip backward inside. Joel follows you into the room a few seconds later, leaving Todd out in the hall. You think it's probably for the best because Joel looks like he really might throw Todd over the side of the ship.

Joel locks the door behind him. You make your way to the bed and sit down, trying to catch your breath. You feel safer with Joel here. He comes over to you and places his hands on each side of your face looking into your eyes. Worry swims in his, and you nearly pull his mouth to yours.

“Did he hurt you? You have to tell me if he hurt you."

“I'm fine, really. I'm just a little shaken up, but I’ll be okay."

He continues to hold your face in his hands as if he's inspecting it to reassure himself that you're not hurt. You have to keep your eyes focused on him so they don't drift down to his perfect lips. Joel leans in closer, and you close your eyes, waiting -

Cool air hits your cheeks, replacing the warmth where Joel's hands had been. Your eyes burst open, and Joel's back is to you as he makes his way to the sofa. Heat burns through your entire body, and you wish Joel hadn't pulled away.

“I need you to tell me the truth."

“What do you mean?" You ask, still breathless.

“I saw your face when that piece of cheesecake with the engagement ring was set in front of you. You weren't surprised; you looked almost heartbroken. Then at dinner tonight, Todd said something that made it sound like he’s known you for a lot longer than just this week. Then, I came up here to check on you, and he has you cornered."

“Joel, he was just drunk. I don't think he knew what he was doing," you say, looking down at your feet.

“Is he the reason you wanted to leave?" Joel asks bluntly. You can't understand his anger. Is it possible that he's jealous of Todd?

“Not him specifically," you say, quickly bending the truth. “A lot of the group makes me feel like I don't belong. I don't come from money like the rest of them, and it's very obvious to me that I don't fit in with them."

In all actuality, you do feel like the odd one out a lot of the time. You imagine it feels similar to following an older sibling and their friends around. No one really wants you to come, but they put up with you so they won't get in trouble. It is, however, still a lie about the reason you wanted to leave.

Joel looks at you with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “I didn't know you felt that way."

“I don't feel that way when I'm with you. Sometimes it feels like you’re the only one who wants me on this ship." You make your way across the room to sit on the sofa opposite him.

“I do want you here," Joel says softly.

You think back to the maid, Charlotte, talking about how Marnie had run off all of the women that ever got serious with Joel. You realise that he isn’t the playboy Sarah always makes him out to be. It isn't his intention that none of the women he's ever dated have not stayed around for long.

“I came up here to make sure you were feeling alright."

“I’m feeling a lot better," you say, feeling guilty about getting out of dinner with an excuse of being seasick. It felt like the best option, though, since you were apparently a topic of conversation at dinner. You wonder what Todd said about you to Joel but know it's best not to ask, or he’ll start asking questions you don't want to answer.

“Did you get anything to eat?"

“No, I didn't want to bug anyone."

You think back to the few handfuls of popcorn you ate while playing cards. You could definitely use something more substantial. Joel stands and walks to the intercom on the wall of your room.

“Can you please send some dinner up and a whiskey for me?"

—

“Is there anything else I can get you, sir?" Brenna says as she sets down the tray on the coffee table between Joel and you. She turns and winks at you, and you try your best to hide a smile.

“No, that's everything. Thank you, Brenna; I know it's late."

“I was up anyway, sir, and the night chef was in the kitchen making preparations for tomorrow, so it was really no trouble." Brenna turns and walks out the door, clicking it closed behind her.

“I like that you call all of your staff by name," you say, impressed that he cares so much about his staff despite his wealth.

“One of the few valuable things I learned from my father was to respect the people who work for you. Without them, I wouldn't be able to do the work that I do or enjoy my limited free time. My father always made it a point to call each employee by their name. In that way alone, I followed in his footsteps."

Joel takes the cover off of your plate for you. It's a bowl of chicken pesto pasta and a side of garlic bread. The smell of the garlic hits your nose instantly, and you can feel your stomach urging you to grab the plate.

“Your father sounds like he was a very harsh man?" You ask, hoping you're not overstepping. You grab the bowl of pasta off the tray and take a bite. The cheese melts in your mouth perfectly, complemented by the pesto.

“He was very harsh, and strict. He had high expectations for me, and he made it known when I disappointed him."

“That must have been hard."

“It was, but it made me who I am today. I don't take the wealth, or the work it takes to maintain it, for granted. But I do try to be a kinder man than he was."

You stay quiet and work on the rest of your pasta, slowly savoring each bite. You know Joel will probably leave as soon as you're done, so you take your time.

“I forgot to tell you I got in contact with a law firm I've worked with in the past. They would like to bring you in for an interview for a secretary position."

You nearly drop your fork. “Are you serious?"

Joel smiles at your response. He nods and takes a swig from his whiskey glass. “I'll get you their information. They're ready to bring you in as soon as you get settled."

“I can't thank you enough, Joel. You don't understand how life-changing this is for me," you say, setting down the bowl of pasta on the table. You wish you could stand up and hug him.

“I'm just glad you decided to stay. You are the only one making this trip bearable," Joel says, meeting your eyes. The look in his eyes makes your heart flutter.

A loud vibration against the leather of the sofa breaks the moment, and Joel pulls out his phone. His face falls as soon as he reads the notification on his home screen. “I’m so sorry but I have something I have to deal with. I'm glad to see that you’re feeling better, darlin. If you need anything, let me know."

You stand. “Thank you for everything, Joel, truly everything."

He smiles and quickly makes his way to the door without looking back and closes the door behind him. The room suddenly feels empty with Joel gone. You slump back onto the leather sofa and grab the garlic bread off the plate, dipping it in the remaining pesto at the bottom of your bowl.

Your phone screen illuminates the dark corner where your bed sits, so you hesitantly get up to check your notifications. At the top are a few messages in the group text between your friends, and just below that is a friend request from Joel. You smile to yourself and accept it, then open your group chat.

Lin: What amazing thing did you get to do today? I am bored of packing for the move. I need to live vicariously through you.

Aubrey: Lin, keep packing you only have a few more weeks.

Lin: Don't sound too sad to have us go, lol!

Aubrey: You know I am going to miss you two like crazy, but I know you will panic pack at the last minute and forget half your underwear drawer. I am not shipping your panties to you, Lin!

Lin: You know me too well, Aubs.

You: I love that every time I check my phone, I have messages like these! Nothing exciting today. We have been at sea all day on our way to Sarah's dad's mansion in the Bahamas. I went down to the employee's quarters and played cards and got a lot of dirt on Sarah’s mom.

Lin: Okay, I'm going to need pictures of this Bahama's Mansion and details on her mom!

You: Sarah's mom left her dad for another man because she thought it would help her climb the social ladder. Turned out he wasn't as rich or well off socially as she thought, and when he died, she did a paternity test, and here we are.

You: We are going to her dad's mansion for Sarah and Todd's engagement party…

Lin: It sounds like Sarah is the spitting image of her mother.

Aubrey: Not only did you have to witness their engagement, but now you have to go to their engagement party too?

Lin: I swear, you have the absolute worst luck on the planet.

You: You don't even know the half of my bad luck on this trip.

Lin: What do you mean? What else has happened?

You: Well, I don't really fit in with the rest of the group.

Aubrey: But I thought you said you were making other friends? Joel right?

You: I am.

Lin: So, what do you mean by bad luck?

You: Joel is Sarah's dad.

Aubrey: Why is that a problem? I have a lot of friends in my classes who are like double my age.

You: It's a problem because I'm falling for him. Absolutely head over heels falling for him.

—

Once in the hall, Joel opens the text message that interrupted his conversations with you

Lucille: Do you know someone named Blaine?

That simple sentence makes his stomach drop. He was now contacting family members. Joel makes his way back to the privacy of his office for the second time in the same night. He closes the door behind him before dialing his cousin Lucille's number.

“Joel, I am so glad you called me. I just had the strangest conversation with someone named Blaine. I was just getting out of the bath when I got a call from an unknown number. Now, usually I don't answer the phone if I don't know the number, but I gave my information to this adorable man at the coffee shop earlier today, so I figured it was him."

“Lucille, this is important; I need you to tell me exactly what Blaine said to you." He has to keep Lucille focused on the topic, she's always been a talker, but at this moment, he can't politely listen to all of her stories in their excruciating detail.

“Oh, right, the call from Blaine! He told me I needed to meet his demands or else."

“What were his demands?"

“He wants me to send half a million dollars in a box to an address in New Jersey. I'm sure it's just one of those scam callers that has nothing better to do with their life."

“Lucille, if you thought it was a scam, then why did you ask me if I knew him?"

“Well, that's what I found so strange. He knew all about our family tree and how we are related. I just thought it was a little more information than scammers normally have. However, who knows? With the Internet, I'm sure people can find out all kinds of information about our family. We aren't exactly flying under the radar - Oh! Did you see that latest news article in the paper? Apparently, you are about to agree to an arranged marriage to the Princess of Thailand."

“Lucille, I'm afraid this isn't a scam. But the arranged marriage definitely isn't true. Have you left your house since you got this call?"

“No, why? Joel, you're making me nervous."

“Okay, don't leave your house. I'm sending some of my security team over there now. Do not open the door for anyone else."

“What should I do about Blaine's demands?"

“Just ignore it."

“Joel, who is it we’re dealing with?" Lucille asks. She’s clearly nervous now.

“You don't have to deal with anyone, Lucille, I promise. I will take care of everything. Don't answer any unknown numbers, and do not go anywhere without one of my men with you. I will get this figured out."

“Okay, Joel. Just be careful."

“I will be. Call me if you need anything."

He hangs up the phone and slams his palm against his desk, even though he wants to punch something instead. He allows himself a few seconds of anger before picking up his phone again and calling his head of security.

“Hello?" a burly voice sounds on the other end of the phone call.

“Bruce, I need you to send two men over to my cousin Lucille's home in the West Village. Her address should be listed in her file."

“Of course, sir. Has there been an incident?"

“A man named Blaine Blake. He’s blackmailing Lucille at the moment. I’m not sure what he’s capable of, but he is a threat to the entire family. I need your best men on this."

“Two men are already on their way to your cousin's, sir. Do I need to send a team to you?"

He knew he hired Bruce for a reason. He’s extremely efficient and always one step ahead of everyone else. He’s exactly who he needs to help him take care of Blaine.

“No need quite yet, but I'll keep you posted. Oh, and Bruce?"

“Yes, sir?"

“Keep your ear to the ground, and let me know anything you find out about this Blaine Blake. Any information that you find needs to be kept under wraps."

“On it, sir. Everything will be done with the utmost secrecy."

“Thank you, Bruce. Have a good evening."

Joel hangs up the phone and sets it on his large oak desk. Unconsciously, he's been pacing around his office while on the phone. He slumps himself down into his leather armchair and swivels it around so he can watch the ocean. It's so dark, it's hard to differentiate the water from the sky.

He should have known he would hear from Blaine eventually. He first found out about his existence after his parents' death when he was seventeen. His father's will had very bluntly stated that Blaine was to receive nothing. Joel had no idea that he had a half-brother out there in the world until after his dad was gone and couldn't explain the situation for himself. Joel was left spending the rest of his early adult life piecing the clues together. His parents' constant fighting and lack of affection for each other made complete sense as soon as he knew that his father's infidelity was likely the cause. He ripped apart his father's office, trying to find any clues about his hidden life. The only thing he found was a check register, showing he had paid a woman named Anne Blake - one hundred thousand dollars. He had no illusions about his father, he knew exactly what he'd done.

His father kept detailed records of every dime he ever spent; the lack of information on the check register told him everything he needed. The hundred thousand dollars was hush money, and the woman, Anne Blake, had to be his father's mistress. He searched for years to find Anne Blake, but her name was so common, it was impossible to narrow down his search enough to find the right woman. He had no other information to go off of, and was left with a million unanswered questions. It wasn't until he found out he was Sarah's father that he had a hope of finding his brother. Sarah had taken a DNA test that linked her to other Miller's who had their DNA in the same database. Joel took the same DNA test and waited for a notification that he had a sibling match in the database. Last year, that notification finally came, but after some digging into his brother Blaine Blake's history, he wished he'd never known about him. More importantly, he wished he didn't know at all. Blaine's criminal record was far from clean, with multiple charges of petty theft and blackmail. It wasn't long after that, that the threats started coming in. At first, it was easy to shake the threats off, and Joel simply ignored all of them. In the last month, Blaine must have gotten desperate because his attempts at blackmail were getting increasingly threatening.

So far, he even avoided telling his security team about the threats, but now he's threatening Joel's family. He knows Bruce will get to the bottom of the problem, but he'll likely find out about all of his family's dirty laundry in the process.

Joel runs his hands up his face and through his hair. Leaning back, he stares at the ceiling. He knows he’ll never be able to sleep after the events of the last few hours, so he turns back around to his desk and opens his laptop. Might as well get some work done if he's going to be up anyway.

A notification greets him as the screen flashes to life. You accepted his friend request. At that, he can't help but smile, just a little. There's something about you that makes it impossible for Joel to get you out of his head. He's immediately distracted by the memory of you riding on the back of the jet ski to find the dolphins. Thinking of that day, he can almost feel your body pressed against his back and how your face lit up when the dolphins swam into the cove. That night when you walked out of the salon in the dress he mentioned would look good on you; you nearly knocked him senseless. You felt beautiful and he could see it on your face.

He realises sitting there alone in his office, he would give anything to make you feel that way all the time. There's no point in denying it any further, he's falling for you. If you were anyone other than Sarah's friend, he'd pursue you without a second thought. But, the last thing he needs is to complicate his relationship with his daughter even more. It doesn't help that his daughter is so clueless as to be cruel to the one person she invites that could actually help her grow into a decent person.

The screen of his phone alerts him to another incoming text message.

Marnie: I need a plane ticket to the Bahamas. It was bad enough that I had to hear about my daughter's engagement over the phone. I refuse to miss her engagement party too. So we will also need to push the party back so I can be there.

A few seconds later, another message follows the first.

Marnie: Also, we need to start discussing the wedding plans. Sarah's wedding needs to be absolutely perfect. We can talk about the details later. Send the flight information as soon as possible.

Joel opens the drawer of his desk and slides his phone inside. He is not in the mood to deal with Marnie and her demands. He knows deep down that Sarah is becoming more and more like her mother each and every day. A part of him is excited about Sarah's wedding for the simple fact that she’ll be another man's problem. He immediately feels bad for thinking that of his own daughter, but it seems she only cares about his money. Thinking about Sarah's upcoming wedding brings a new wave of memories rushing in. Embarrassment floods his veins as he thinks about the conversation he had with his daughter over dinner. She said that you didn't fit the aesthetic of her wedding, so she wouldn't ask you to be a bridesmaid. He couldn't understand that. But if Sarah won't have you at the wedding as a bridesmaid, maybe he'll just bring you as his date.

—

The last thing you want to do is run into Todd, especially after his actions the night before; you think it would be wise to avoid him completely. Book in hand, you head to the secret deck off of the dining room balcony, where you had shared a few quiet moments with Joel. You figure it would be the best place for you to hide out and also possibly run into Joel again. He left in such a rush the night before, you’re curious to find out what happened. You check down the hallway before speed walking to the dining room. As soon as your hand hits the doorknob, Sarah's voice sounds behind you.

"I have been looking for you everywhere!"

You turn around quickly, and you’re relieved to see that Sarah is alone. She’s wearing a one-piece swimming suit in navy blue with the bust line cutting down to her belly button. She has a white sun hat and a pair of Chanel sunglasses to complete her beachwear.

"Sarah," you say with a smile.

"Come with me down to the beach. I am so bored, and I can't stand being on this boat for another second," she says with an overly dramatic sigh.

"I thought we were heading to your dad's place and wouldn't get there until tonight." You turn and look out the dining room windows. You’re surprised you hadn't noticed earlier that you aren't moving.

"Daddy said we had to stop to refuel. He is also giving some of the crew their half-day break so they can go on land and contact family or something stupid like that," Sarah says with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh," you say, slightly irritated at Sarah's insensitivity. "Well, a half-day isn't that bad."

"It is when you have an engagement party to plan. Plus, daddy told me that my mom is flying out for the party. She is going to be waiting at the house while we sit here all day."

The thought of meeting Marnie makes you slightly nervous. Maybe because you’re worried she’ll be able to tell you have feelings for Joel. You can't let Sarah catch you in a daydream about her dad, so you shift the conversation as quickly as possible.

"Where is everyone else?"

"Everyone has a hangover. Todd started a drinking game last night, and everyone had a little too much."

Well, that makes a lot of the previous night make more sense. Todd is never one to handle his alcohol very well, and he’s even worse at games. You’re curious as to just how many drinks made Todd forget himself the way he did last night. He was not waiting long into the engagement to show his true colors.

"How are you not hung over?" you ask, looking her up and down. She doesn't look like she was drinking the night before at all. As always, she looks absolutely flawless.

"The bartenders know to give me water instead of an actual shot. I hate the way I get bags under my eyes when I drink too much. It’ss much better to stay hydrated than look hungover."

"Right. Well, I was just going to go find somewhere quiet to read, but reading on the beach sounds a lot more fun."

"Great! I can wait for you to go get ready," Sarah says, looking at your outfit.

"I am ready, Sarah."

"Oh, you look…cute. Anyway, let's go!"

You follow Sarah out on the dock and quickly realize it will not be a simple morning on the beach.

A few members of staff have set up a large tan beach canopy surrounded by white gauzy curtains. In the center is a pair of chaise lounge chairs made of rattan and topped with matching white cushions. It looks like a photoshoot.

"Do you think you could take a few pictures of me? I haven't posted anything in a few days, and my followers are getting antsy."

The true purpose of Sarah inviting you to spend time with her this morning becomes very obvious. She needs a photographer, not a friend.

"Sure, I can take a few. I really want to read this book, though, so if we could be fast…"

"Oh, that is an awesome idea!"

Sarah grabs the book out of your hand and flips it from the front cover to the back. You must look confused because she quickly explains.

"We could take a few shots of me reading on the beach. I haven't done that before. Is this one of those books that will make me look smart?"

"Yeah, I guess we could. It's just a romance novel, I don't know if your followers will think it makes you smart, but it might make you a little more relatable to some people."

"Smart people read. You, of all people, should know that. Maybe I’ll stop getting all those mean comments about being stupid. I can caption it 'steamy reading on the beach.'"

Sarah takes her place on the lounge in a very photogenic pose that makes her look graceful while still artfully showing off her cleavage. She opens the book and drapes it over herself, careful not to block her best assets. After a few pictures, she will check your work and find the smallest thing she doesn't like and will make you take more.

"Make sure you get the lighting just right and hold the camera up higher for a better angle. Oh, and make sure to get a good view of the ring. I'm hoping someone will notice it, and then my comment section will blow up."

"Don't you want to wait until the actual announcement?" you ask.

"Oh, no! I am going to pretend like it is a mistake that I posted a picture with the ring on; that way, it will attract more attention."

"It's always about the attention with you," you say under your breath.

"What was that?"

"Tilt your head up higher, so you don't have a double chin."

Sarah gasps and asks to see the pictures you had taken, so she can search for the nonexistent double chin. You feel bad as soon as you say it, you don't need to stoop to her level. After finding out so much about Sarah's past, you understand why she can be so hard to be around at times. If you had found out your father wasn't really your father after he passed away, you would have been devastated too.

"I think it was just a shadow, Sarah you don't have a double chin in any of these pictures. I don't think it is even possible for you to have a double chin," you say, trying to make up for your moment of weakness.

"Of course, you're right," Sarah says as she hands her phone back to you. Apparently, you aren't done taking pictures.

"Maybe we could get a few shots of me in the sand. Those always get a ton of likes."

Sarah begins to position herself on her stomach in the sand with the book open in front of her. She bends her knees, so her legs are in the air, and she bites the end of her sunglasses while she pretends to read. The pictures look like they belong on the cover of a magazine. Sarah looks so natural, even though she's strategically posing herself.

“Sarah, do you ever get tired of this?"

“Of taking pictures? No, not really."

“Not just of the pictures, but of constantly worrying about what others are thinking of you."

“That is why I take so many pictures; if you put your best picture out there, the only ones who comment mean things are the people who are jealous."

“It just seems like so much work to paint yourself as perfect all the time. I guess that's why I stopped using social media so long ago for the most part."

“For once, things actually are perfect. I have the perfect fiance, and soon I'll have the perfect wedding too. If you ever want to get back onto social media, I could help you.”

"I'm good for now, but thanks," you say, resuming taking pictures. You realize that Sarah likely doesn't know about your past relationship with Todd because you never posted anything about it on social media. If you don't tell her, she likely wouldn't ever know, and you don't want to be the one to break that news to her. So you keep your mouth shut and keep taking every picture Sarah asks for.

"I think I should have something I can work with from these. Thanks, for helping me out. It was so much fun to spend some time with you," Sarah says, making her way back to the ship without looking back.

It isn't exactly your idea of fun to take pictures all afternoon, but you are finally alone, and you can enjoy your book. You take Sarah's chaise lounge under the shade of the canopy. Even with the breeze gently fluttering the sheer curtains hanging off the canopy, you are still dripping sweat. You had to stand directly in the sun to get all of the shots until your wet tank top clung to your body.

You check the beach to make sure it’s empty before slipping your shirt off and setting it next to you on the empty lounge chair. You feel so much cooler as the breeze snakes through the gaps of your lacy bralette. You open your book and are so thankful for the silence. You get sucked into the story on the pages, so much so that you don’t hear the voices approaching until they are only a few feet from you.

"Can you call and make sure the interest rate we discussed earlier is set in stone?"

"Of course, sir."

You don't have time to slip back into your shirt, so you press the open book to your chest, taking advantage of the little coverage it offers you. You look up to find Joel and Reggie staring at you. Reggie quickly averts his eyes. Joel stares openly at your body, and when his eyes meet yours, you know he wants you as much as you want him.

Reggie apologizes, "We didn't realize you were out here. We will give you some privacy." He keeps his head down and shuffles through the sand back to the dock.

"We aren't leaving for a few more hours." Joel holds your gaze as tightly as you’re holding the open book to your chest. "Take your time and enjoy yourself. I'll make sure no one comes down and bothers you if you'd like to resume reading," Joel offers. He winks at you and then follows Reggie back to the dock.

You watch Joel as he walks away, his neatly pressed linen button-up fluttering gently in the breeze. Once he and Reggie are at a safe distance, you grab your shirt off of the lounge chair next to you and slip it over your head. You let yourself fall backward on the plush cushions and close your eyes, imagining Joel undressing you the way he had done with his eyes when he realized you were wearing nothing but your bralette.

A wave of heat rushes through you at the thought until you remember where you are. You sit up so quickly that you make your head spin. After waiting a few seconds to regain your balance, you place your book under your arm, and with your head down, you race back to your room. As soon as your door clicks closed behind you, you head for the shower, throwing your clothes to the floor on your way there. You stand for a long time under the cool water. Eventually, you feel the embarrassment wash down the drain. It takes even longer for the heat Joel made you feel to wash away.

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you make your way out of the bathroom. You would love to sit on the balcony and let the breeze help extinguish what you’re feeling, but you figure you've already taken too much risk for one day. Instinctively, you grab your phone off of the bed to text your friends an update.

You: If I could die of embarrassment, you two would be making funeral arrangements as we speak.

Lin: Oooo, is there some daddy drama we need to know about?

You: Unfortunately, yes. I was just lying on the beach in my bralette, and I had no idea Joel was walking by until it was too late.

Aubrey: I'm sure he didn't mind. If it is that one you bought on our last shopping trip, I know he didn't mind!

Lin: So what did you do? Let him stand there in awe?

You: So not funny, you two! I covered myself with the book I was reading… but we definitely shared a moment.

Lin: Sounds steamier than those romance novels you read!

You: I think I am in way over my head. What do I do? We are staying at his house in the Bahamas for the next few days. We should get there later tonight.

Lin: Let it happen!

Aubrey: Just see where it goes, but if you want to leave, I will find you a plane out of there.

You: It might not be a bad idea to get that flight information. Would you mind Aubrey?

Aubrey: Of course, I will send you the details; that way, you have them if you need them.

You: Thank you. I will keep you both updated!

You close your phone and sigh. You don't want to leave, but it might be for the best, so you don't do something stupid. The thought of leaving this vacation is a weighted decision. If you don't see Todd again for the rest of your life, you'll be overjoyed. However, the thought of possibly never seeing Joel again, of never finding out if you could be more, is painful to think about. Your head is spinning over what the best decision is. So, instead of making any big decisions, you get yourself dressed, fully expecting another quiet day at sea. Exhausted from the heat of the morning and Sarah's impromptu photo shoot, you throw yourself on the bed and close your eyes for what feels like a few minutes.

A light knocking on your door wakes you up, and your eyes take a moment to adjust to the lighting in the room. A quick look out your balcony window, and you know you've slept way longer than you had intended. The golden glow of sunset is streaming through the windows, dusting everything in a light pink hue.

"Brenna! Hey, what's going on?" you ask as you open the door, happy to see a familiar face.

"I was sent up to help you with your luggage. We should be arriving at the Miller's vacation home in about an hour," Brenna explains.

"Oh, wow. I slept a lot longer than I meant to," you say and hold the door open for Brenna to enter your room. You try to rub the sleep from your eyes as she walks into your room.

"No worries, the only thing you missed was the 'Richies' showing off in the pool all day," Brenna reports.

"Then it sounds like I made the right decision. How were they showing off?" you ask.

"Oh, you know the usual 'I'm so annoyed my parents bought me the wrong color convertible,' 'I can't believe he really thought that I drank anything but sparkling water,' 'the sheets in my room are so uncomfortable–the ones on my dad's yacht are Egyptian cotton.'"

You laugh and shake your head. Brenna does a great impression of the things you have heard from different members of the group all week. You head to the closet, Brenna right behind you. "I don't think it will actually take me an hour to get everything packed up. Most of my stuff can just be thrown back in my suitcase, and my new clothes are all still in the garment bags," you say.

"It must be my lucky day. I was in that girl Megan's room earlier, and it looked like she tried on an entire store's worth of clothes and threw them on the floor when they weren't what she was looking for. I feel horrible for whoever got assigned to her room," Brenna comments.

"I would pity anyone who had to work for Megan. I avoid her at all costs. When she glares at you, it feels like you're going to start burning right on the spot," you say.

"I know, right? She's the worst of all of Sarah's friends, but her dad owns some luxury watch company, so she has been a regular on the guest lists for a long time," Brenna explains.

"Brenna, what is the vacation house like?" you ask.

"It's more than someone like you or me could ever believe one person could afford," Brenna replies.

—

As the yacht pulls up to the private dock of the Miller's Bahama vacation home, the size of the mansion is on full display. The white colonial-style mansion is three stories tall, with cantilever balconies off of the second floor. An illuminated infinity pool rests at the top of the white sanded private beach. A small runway off to the side of the property ends at a white stone gazebo that juts out into the ocean. Full palm trees edge the beach, making it feel secluded from the rest of the island. Music plays from the large deck, and shadows of people dot the beach and poolside.

Sarah rushes down to the dock, where a group of very rich women wait for you. Sarah squeals and thrusts her hand forward to show off her engagement ring. This is followed by echoed squeals from the group. You hesitate as your feet hit the dock, not wanting to get in the middle of the model-like women.

"Oh, sweetie, the maid's entrance is around to the side," one of the women says.

You stop in your tracks, not knowing how to respond to the assumption. You feel a warm palm on your lower back push you gently forward past the woman. Joel.

He leans down close to your ear and whispers, "Don't let them intimidate you. You're twice the woman any of them could ever be." His breath tickles your neck, and goosebumps prickle the skin down your arms. You look up at him and give him a weak smile. "Let me show you where you’ll be staying," he says quietly as he lets the corner of his mouth brush your earlobe.

"Thank you," you nearly moan.

Joel keeps his hand on your lower back as you walk to the mansion. He leads you through the back doors and into a living room with a giant chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. Two fish tanks containing every color of tropical fish rest on either side of the large staircase you take to the second floor.

"This is one of my favorite rooms in the entire house," Joel says. He leads you into an elegant bedroom with white double doors exiting onto one of the balconies you had seen from the yacht. Palm fronds are a recurring theme in the decorations throughout the room in a pale green color.

"It's so beautiful; I wouldn't dare touch anything," you say.

"Nonsense. Make yourself comfortable. It's one of three master bedrooms, so you have your own ensuite just through that door there," Joel says, gesturing to an open door on the other side of the room.

"I don't know if I belong in one of the master suites. I would really be okay with one of the smaller rooms," you say.

"This is where you belong. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”

—

Waking up in the enormous master suite, you find yourself bathed in the soft glow of morning coming through the windows. The tranquillity is broken by screams of irritation from the floor below.

Wrapping the robe Joel had given you around yourself, you open the door to your room and hurry down the stairs to see what's going on. "You have got to be kidding me! This is completely unacceptable!" A woman with hair matching Sarah's is yelling at Max, the staff member you'd played cards with on the yacht.

"Ma'am, I don't know what to tell you. Mr. Miller has already assigned the rooms; I cannot go against his direct orders. There is already another guest staying in that room, and I am sure Mr. Miller would not approve of me kicking them out of the room," Max replies, clearly exasperated.

"We will see about that. You will be lucky if you still have a job by the time I'm through with you," the woman retorts and spots you on the stairs. Her face is devoid of emotion, probably from the excessive and very obvious botox treatments. "Come to enjoy the show, did we?" she asks, but you can't tell if she's trying to glare at you or not. You turn around, deciding it's best not to get involved.

A few hours later, you dare to leave your room again but are met with more yelling coming from the lower floor. Your empty stomach protests the idea of going back through there, so you hope you can make it to the kitchen without anyone seeing you.

"So you are the one that took my room," Marnie says immediately, and you know it's her.

You turn to find not only Marnie but Sarah, Todd, and Megan too. Megan has a small smirk on her mouth that she tries and fails to hide.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, pretending you have no idea what she means.

"I just found out that one of the master bedrooms went to you. I am stuck on the bottom floor in one of the guest rooms like some commoner," Marnie complains.

"I don't see the problem. I was told which room had been assigned to me. I didn't ask for it."

"Oh, you must be the poor one. It makes sense why you can't understand something so simple," Marnie says with a pointed look at your simple clothes.

Megan laughs at Marnie's comment, and Sarah playfully slaps her arm to get her to stop. You can't bring yourself to look at Todd's face, but you figure he's getting a laugh out of this interaction as well.

"Do you know who I am?" Marnie asks.

You internally cringe. You've always hated customers who tried the 'do you know who I am' card at the bar. "I'm guessing that you’re Sarah's mother," you say as calmly as you can.

"Exactly. So you need to pack up your things and get out of my room."

"I'm not moving my stuff. I was assigned that room, and I'm going to stay in it."

Marnie starts stammering an explanation, but Joel walks into the room without her noticing. Relief floods your entire body, knowing Joel is here. He has an angry burning look in his eyes that makes Marnie nervous.

"This whole thing was just a misunderstanding. I just figured, with our history, I would have one of the bigger rooms. I just remembered, though, that I love the view of the ocean from the room I'm in, that’s probably why you picked it for me," Marnie explains.

Joel doesn't say anything in response, and Marnie tries her best to make an escape. Sarah and Todd follow Marnie out of the kitchen, and you feel heat on your lower back. Joel has placed his hand there and leans close to you.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly.

You nod and step away from him, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl on the counter.

—

The rest of the morning is spent carefully avoiding Marnie, but it seems like everywhere you go, Todd shows up a few minutes later. He's always talking very loudly about what needs to be done before the engagement party. Not wanting to talk to him, you give up and go back to your room. You go out to the balcony and lean over the railing to watch the ocean. A few men are surfing, and you can make out Joel sitting on his surfboard bobbing in the water.

"Baby cakes?"

You look over to see Todd leaning over the railing of the adjacent balcony, straining to see you on yours. You shake your head at him.

"Please, I just need to talk to you."

"You have nothing to say that I would be interested in hearing," you say and go back into your room, shutting the door behind you a little more forcefully than you intended. Your heart is pounding, and you know you need to get control of your anger, but you can't do that knowing Todd is in the next room over. So you grab your book and a beach towel out of the bathroom before heading down to the beach. You walk through the living area of the mansion and nearly run into two giant ice sculptures as they are being brought through to the kitchen.

"Oh, careful!" Sarah says, rushing over to inspect the ice sculpture. You quickly step back to avoid a life-size rendition of Sarah and Todd embracing.

"Oh wow…" is the only thing you can say, looking at the ice sculpture.

"I know, right? It is absolutely perfect," Sarah beams.

"It sure is something."

"Mom commissioned it as soon as she found out about the engagement party."

"Well, I want the best for my little girl," Marnie's voice flows down the stairs as she makes her way toward you with Todd on her arm.

"It really is the perfect embodiment of us both," Todd says with a smile in your direction.

"It matches your heart, Todd. Ice cold," you mutter under your breath.

You make a hasty exit out the back door and nearly run towards the beach, needing to get away from both versions of Todd.

You spread your towel out in the sand and lounge on the ground, hoping to continue the book you had been trying to read the day before. Sarah's demanding voice carries all the way down to the private beach.

You need a better distraction. You throw your head back and look up at the bright blue sky. You don't think you can make it through this engagement party. Your phone vibrates with a text message from Aubrey, containing flight information for a flight leaving the next day. It would cost the rest of your savings, but maybe it would be for the best if you left.

"Every time I've seen you lately, you've had that book with you, but you never seem to be reading it."

You sit up to find Joel standing in front of you, shirtless, soaking wet, and holding a surfboard. Beads of water are sliding down his naked torso, and you can't help but watch them caress his skin, slowly sneaking lower. You look back up at Joel's teasing smile.

"Do you need a towel? You're dripping on me," you say with a playful smile.

"Would you share yours? Unless you'd like to join me for one more wave."

"I have never been surfing," you admit.

"I would be happy to teach you, as long as you don't send us both flying into the water again," Joel says with a wink and a charming smile.

“I can't make any promises about that," you say with a laugh.

“Then it might be best for you to stay on dry land. The engagement party is supposed to start in a few hours."

You sigh quietly and look down at your toes; you buried them under the sand. You pull them out and brush off the sand.

“Well then, I'm going to head back up to shower and get ready." Joel offers you his hand and helps you off the ground.

“I'll see you there." You hand Joel the towel you had been sitting on.

“In the shower?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I'll see you at the party Joel," you reply with a seductive glance over your shoulder as you walk back toward the mansion, leaving him behind you. You can feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

—

The soft fabric of your chiffon cocktail dress swishes against your thighs as you make your way downstairs. The music is already thumping through the house from the back patio, making the windows rattle slightly. The infinity pool is illuminated, giving the entire party a slight glow. The first place you head is to the bartender, knowing it's going to take a lot to get through this night and needing all the help you can get.

"Would you like a Sarah Lemon Drop or a Todd Tequila Shot?"

"Are these the only two things on the menu?" you ask. You shouldn't be surprised that they have signature drinks named after themselves.

The bartender gives you a sympathetic smile, "Or we have the Marry Me Margarita."

This is going to be a very long night.

"A margarita then…"

You walk away with your margarita in hand and join a small group of people surrounding the life-size ice sculpture of Sarah and Todd. A woman turns to you and asks, "So how do you know the couple?"

"Oh, I went to school with Sarah at NYU." You figure it's best to leave out how you know Todd.

"I didn't realize that Sarah went to college. She never mentioned it at our photo shoot in Greece last year. That's how we met," she says with an air of superiority.

"What did you study at NYU?" a man says, entering the conversation.

"Oh, I got my Bachelor's in history and I just graduated with my Master's in political science. I'm going to Harvard for Law school in the fall."

"That sounds absolutely terrible. I went for the first week of college and dropped out. They wanted me to show up for classes before, like ten in the morning," the woman says.

"Yeah, some of the classes can be pretty early," you say, not knowing how to respond.

"So, are your parents making you go to law school or something? Does your dad own a law firm? I have a friend whose dad is making him become a lawyer so he can take over the law firm someday," the man asks you.

"No, I'm not being forced, I just have always wanted to be a lawyer. No one in my family owns a law firm, although I wish they did. That would make finding a job after I graduate a lot easier," you answer with a nervous laugh.

The two give you a strange look as though they had never met someone who willingly went to college to pursue a career simply because it was what they wanted.

"So you're, like, smart," the woman says in a patronizing tone. They turn to each other and actually laugh at you while you’re still standing next to them.

"Don't tell me you are putting yourself through school too. Let me guess, you're a waitress or something," the man says with a mean smile.

"I'm a bartender," you say quietly.

This answer sends them both over the edge with giggles. They move forward, effectively cutting you out of the group with their bodies. You realize that you have nothing in common with these people and turn to leave.

Tears sting the corners of your eyes, and you need to get away from the thumping beat of the DJ's speakers. You refuse to cry in front of these people. You walk down the runway to the gazebo that juts out into the ocean, so the waves crash against all sides, drowning out the music and laughter from the party. You brace yourself on the backrest of an iron bench, wiping away an escaping tear from your face. You know you don't belong here, and you can't stand staying another day. You pull your phone out of the clutch you're carrying and send a quick text to Aubrey and Lin.

You: I just got laughed at for wanting to become a lawyer. I need to get away from these people.

Aubrey: Do you want me to book you that flight?

You: Yes, I'm ready to come home.

Aubrey: Bad news. The flight tomorrow is booked.

You: When is the next flight out of here?

Aubrey: In two days.

You: Book it. I will just find a way to hide out for one more day.

Lin: You can get through this! I will be waiting at the airport to pick you up.

You: I can't thank you two enough. What would I do without you? I miss you both, and I can't wait to see you.

Aubrey: Your flight has been changed. We will see you in two days. Hang in there! We love you!

Lin: What Aubrey said. Just two more days!

You: Love you girls too!

A hand grips the top of yours on the bench and gives it a small squeeze.

"I have been trying to talk to you all day. Why have you been avoiding me?"

You look down and are disappointed that it's not Joel's tanned hand on top of yours. You rip your hand out from under Todd's and give him an icy glare. "What do you need?"

"I need to talk to you in private."

"This is private enough," you say, looking back at the party. You know someone would hear you if you screamed loud enough.

"Just come back to my room with me." Todd leans in close and whispers, "I miss you."

"You can talk to me here or not at all," you say and take a large step back and away from him.

"You look amazing, baby cakes. I have never seen you wear a dress like that. It looks good on you and would look even better off," he says with a sleazy smile.

"Do not call me that! Don't think about me like that! Does your fiance know where you are?" you hiss.

"Of course, she doesn't, and she doesn't have to."

"Does she know anything, Todd? Does she know about our past? Does she know that you dated me for years and how you were still dating me when you two met?" Your breaths are coming in ragged gasps now. You have never been so angry at Todd before. You can't stand the fact that he has not only thrown you over for someone else after you had wasted years of your life on him, but now he has the nerve to try and win you back at his engagement party.

"Of course, she knows," he says quickly while looking away.

"You are such a liar!" Your voice echoes against the pillars of the gazebo. Angry tears burn your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

"Are you sure I'm the liar and not Sarah? What if she just invited you here to make you watch her get engaged to your ex? It sounds like just the kind of game that she and her rich friends would find so entertaining. They have been laughing at you behind your back this entire trip."

"You've always been the liar, Todd. I wish I had seen that from the very beginning. You obviously don't know Sarah. There is no way she would be that cruel. I never mentioned you by name to her when we were dating because she never seemed to care about my personal life. And if they've been laughing at me this entire time, why didn't you tell me sooner? You're just lying to save yourself." You hope the words you say are true. Spending this much time with Sarah is a rare occurrence, and she seems different. However, you can't fathom that she would intentionally cause you pain.

"We have the chance to get back at her for humiliating you," Todd whispers.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, puzzled by the sudden change in topic.

"Take me back. She never has to know that we made up. Everything could go back to how it was."

"Back to how it was? Really, Todd? How do you think that would ever work? You expect me to be fine with the fact that you are marrying Sarah? Do you really think Sarah would be okay with her husband having a girlfriend on the side?" you ask, taken aback by his request.

"I would still marry Sarah, and we would have more money than we would even know what to do with. As soon as my dad makes me a partner, I will have to go on business trips all the time, and you could come with me. Sarah will never know that we are back together."

"You're ridiculous, Todd. It's all about the money, isn't it? You want everything that you can't have, and you are only marrying Sarah for her money."

"Well, she's not bad to look at either," Todd says as if you are the one being unreasonable.

"I can't believe I ever loved you. You are a terrible person. Just leave me alone, Todd," you say, turning away from him and crossing your arms. You are drained from your conversation and realize that there is no way to make him see how wrong he is being.

"Take me back, please," Todd says, reaching out and grabbing your arm.

"Don't touch me," you say, pulling away from him.

Someone clears their throat at the entrance of the gazebo. Todd drops his arm and takes a step back. "Todd, Sarah is looking for you. I think it would be best if you went and found her."

Todd doesn't respond and quickly leaves. You watch as he stops in front of Joel, waiting for him to move so that he can leave. Joel remains where he is standing, so Todd has to awkwardly squeeze past him. If you weren't so angry and trying to hold back the tears still hot in your eyes, you would have laughed.

You let out a frustrated sigh that turns into a small sob. Joel is by your side in seconds. "Are you okay?" Joel asks, putting a hand on each of your arms and rubbing them comfortingly.

"I'm fine," you lie, trying to hide the few tears that have fallen down your face.

"You're shaking. You are not okay. Come with me," Joel says, holding out his hand, and you take it.

"I don't want to go back to the party," you say.

"We don't have to go back to the party.”

"Then where are we going?" you ask, your voice cracking.

"To my room.”

Joel holds your hand as he leads you through a side door of the mansion, avoiding the large crowd of the engagement party. When the door closes behind you, the music and noise of the group become muffled. All you can hear is the low rumble of the bass as it vibrates through the walls.

Joel and you walk in silence, and he never lets go of your hand as he leads you back to his room. Joel's room is decorated in soft grays and silvers. The massive bed stands alone in the center of the room with a crystal chandelier hanging over the center.

Your feet are sore, so you slip your heels off and set them by the double door entrance of the room. Joel clicks the lock on the door, walks across the room, and sits down in an armchair on the other side of the room. You follow, your bare feet cold on the tile floors.

The room's soft coldness makes you feel like you're surrounded by a cloud, comfortable and warm but still in a storm. You nearly sink into the plush armchair that matches Joel's. You would love to be enveloped by the chair and not have the conversation you know is coming. Unfortunately, the truth will likely bring on a storm of its own.

"I need to know the truth."

"I know you do," you say. You let the silence fall between you, not knowing how to start. So you wait for Joel to ask a question first.

"You've known Todd for longer than just this week, haven't you?"

"I met him at NYU in one of my general classes," you admit.

"So you've known him for years?"

"Almost four years," you say barely above a whisper. "We dated for three."

You hear Joel take a deep breath at your confession.

"Why didn't you tell me or Sarah?"

"Honestly, I didn't know what to do. When I got here, I had no idea that Todd would be on board too. Sarah introduced me to him as her new boyfriend, and he acted as though we had never met before.The situation was so uncomfortable. I was still in shock and so hurt."

"So you just decided to say nothing instead?" his eyebrows cinch together. All you can manage is a nod as the tears blur the edges of your vision. "You said you were hurt seeing him again. How long ago was this break up?"

"He officially broke up with me the day before I walked to receive my Master's degree. We had been fighting for weeks before that, though, when I found out he had been cheating on me for months."

"Shit. With my daughter?"

"Yes…they met at my birthday party."

"Did she know?"

"I honestly don't think she knew. Or at least if she did, she didn't know I was the girlfriend."

"I'm so sorry. But how did you expect to spend an entire vacation keeping this all a secret?"

"By the time I came to my senses, the yacht had already departed. I figured I would avoid Todd, and at the end of this vacation, I would go back to my normal life. I would never see him again after I moved, and I honestly didn't think that Sarah and Todd would last. Sarah never dates anyone for longer than a few months. I never imagined that Sarah would get engaged to him."

"Why has he been following you around?" Joel says sternly.

"I don't know why he can't just let our relationship go…" you say.

You hear Joel sigh, and when he speaks again, his tone is softer. "What did he have to say to you tonight in the gazebo? You looked like he had you cornered."

"He was lying to me...." you attempt to avoid his question, not wanting to go into the awful details of your conversation with Todd.

"About what?" Joel asks, he was clearly going to keep pressing until you told him everything.

"He told me Sarah knew and that she invited me on purpose as some kind of joke for her and all her rich friends."

"I know my daughter can be thoughtless at times, but I don't believe she would purposely be so cruel," he says, rubbing his hands on his face.

"I don't believe him," you assure Joel, seeing the worried look on his face.

"Why would he outright lie like that?"

It takes you a few minutes to respond, trying to find the best way to word your answer. You sigh and look down at your feet. "He was trying to convince me to sleep with him again… to get back at Sarah."

Anger heats Joel's gaze as his eyes bore into yours. "Do you want him again?"

"What are you talking about? No! Of course, not. I don't want him in any way ever again. He completely betrayed me," you say, completely shocked by his question. You'd figured his anger would be towards Todd, not you. Joel's eyes remain dark, and he doesn't respond. Instead, he gets up from his chair and starts pacing the room. "Aren't you worried that this is the man that your daughter has picked to marry?" you ask, exasperated that he is questioning you about wanting to sleep with your ex. As if you are so weak that you can't possibly say no to a man who has utterly betrayed your trust.

"If I go and tell Sarah what's going on and try to convince her to end the engagement, then he would be free to come back to you. Is that what you want?" Joel asks through clenched teeth.

Joel's words sting.

"Why are you twisting everything I say?"

"How can I trust anything you say after you've lied to everyone this entire time?"

The tears truly start falling then. You quickly stand from your chair and make your way to the door. Before you even reach your shoes next to the door, Joel grabs your wrist, making you pause.

"Stop. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," he says softly as he runs his thumb in circles on your wrist. Normally, that would have made your heart flutter, but at that moment, the only thing you want is to be alone on a flight headed for home.

"I don't need this from you." You use the back of your free hand to wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I just hate imagining you with him," he says quietly.

You let the unsaid meaning of his words float between you. Neither of you acknowledges the implications of his words.

"I just have to know. Do you love him?"

"Will you believe what I tell you?" you ask, finally turning around to look at him again.

He lets your wrist fall from his fingers. "Yes. I promise," he says with a note of fear in his eyes. Is he truly afraid that you are still in love with a man who treated you so poorly? He reaches up to your face and wipes away another stray tear.

"No. I do not love him," you say pointedly, your voice steady.

"Did you love him?" Joel asked softly.

"I was with him for three years, Joel," you say with a sigh

"That's not what I asked. Did you love him?" he asks again, more forcefully.

"I did love him, but after everything that's happened, how could I still love him? I was wrong about so many things in our relationship," you respond.

"What if you change your mind?" Joel resumes pacing the room.

"I won't. I don't take betrayal lightly," you say firmly.

"I just wish you would have said something from the very beginning."

Anger surges through you. Anger because Joel doesn't seem to understand that everything between you and Todd is over. You don't want anything to do with Todd because the only person you want is Joel. You only want Joel. "You don't get it though, do you?" you say, stepping up to him, blocking his path.

"What am I not getting? Tell me why you lied to me for so long. I would have understood."

"Would you really have understood? Don't you get it? If I had told the truth from the very beginning, I would have been on the first flight home. I would have left as soon as we made the first port," you say, raising your voice.

Joel stares at you, still not understanding. You take another step closer to him, so close that your bodies almost touch. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down before continuing.

"If I had told the truth, I would have never gotten to know you!"

Joel looks at you intensely. He knows you're right.

"I wanted to tell you first thing, but I was just scared. I don't fit in here, remember? The last thing I needed was to make Sarah mad. And who even knows if Todd would've owned up to it? He could've pretended I was lying to cover for himself," you explain, turning away from him.

He gently grabs your arm, making you face him. He looks down at your hand and then interlaces his fingers with yours.

"So, you're glad we've gotten to know each other then?" he asks with a sly smile.

You can't help but smile back. "Of course, I am. Isn't it obvious? I spend most of my time with you."

He nods. "That's true." He lets go of your hand, but your fingertips still touch.

"Todd wanted you to have sex with him to make Sarah mad? He seems to be pretty hung up on you,” Joel says, looking at you.

You raise your eyebrows slightly at that. "Are you trying to ask me about our sex life?"

Joel looks at you. "Honestly, I'm just jealous he knows what sex with you is like."

Your cheeks grow warm, and your heartbeat quickens.

"Why would you be jealous of that? I'm sure you've been with plenty of women," you say.

"Yes, I've been with women, but none as beautiful as you–inside and out," Joel replies, looking into your eyes.

You stare at each other, your fingertips brushing against each other. He moves closer to you and lifts your chin up. You gaze up at him, and he brushes a strand of hair out of your face with a smile and then ever so slowly, he leans down and kisses you.

Taglist:

@lizzie-cakes @ashhlsstuff @puduvallee

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction

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watermelonsugacry · 1 year ago

Note

Y/n applying lotion on his torso..!

It would be last minute..and he would run to her and be like

‘Be quick’

NO BC THIS IS THE DOMESTIC SHIT THAT GOES ON ALL THE TIME WHEN THEY'RE ON TOUR TOGETHER

Ever since the couple has arrived to their hotel room, YN has been bugging him about applying sunscreen to his torso. Especially now more than ever since he chooses to basically go topless on stage (she'll never complain about that) while playing in an outdoor venue in Barcelona.

The first time she brought it up was in their hotel bathroom. Harry, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, was busy untangling the necklaces around his neck when his wife comes into the room. She holds the bottle out to him with a suggestive tone and a raise of her brow.

He stands frozen for a second, eyeing the sunscreen with a contemplative hum before decidedly shaking his head.

"M'good, baby. Thank you."

She narrows her gaze at him, flickering her eyes from the bottle to her husband, before saying, "M'gonna bring it anyways."

YN turns on her heel but before she can fully leave the room, he reaches over and smacks the underside of her bum just to hear her squeak. He chuckles to himself when he sees her hand peek back into the room to show her middle finger at him.

The next time she brings up the sunscreen, is when he's doing a sound check later that day.

She watches from the sidelines, perched on top of an equipment box as she sits in on Harry and the Love Band rehearse before the show tonight. The yellow sunnies sitting on her face help block some of the glare from the bruiting sun reflecting from the massive stage. Everyone has the same idea along with shorts and some type of short sleeve top for their attire.

As much as YN loves to watch Harry in a white tank top, black Ray Bands, and a clip securing his curls on the top of his head, she wants nothing more than to sooth his tan skin with a protective layer of SPF.

While Harry talks some things over with Pauli and the horns ensemble, YN perks up when Sarah waves her over.

Harry's eyes flick over to his wife up on the platform with his drummer, helping apply lotion to the top of Sarah's back before going back to his conversation.

Soon enough, YN's offering sunscreen help to the rest of the band like a mom at a soccer game. Even Mitch rubs some over his arms while YN dollops a blob on his nose. Everyone happily accepts her offer...well, almost everyone.

When the band rehearses Grapejuice, Harry waltz up to where his wife sits as he sings, "There's never been someone else so perfect for me."

When she waggles the bottle in his face, he gives her a cheeky smile, playfully grabbing and tossing the bottle to the side. Before she can even get one word out in protest, he tugs her off her seat and pulls her in close as he sings.

She tries to pull away as he brings them to the middle of the stage, but his grip on her is strong.

His high notes go wobbly as he giggles, watching as YN gives up her efforts to escape. Eventually, she succumbs to his swaying and lopsided smile and slow dances with her husband for the rest of the song.

The last time she brings up the sunscreen is in his dressing room. And this time around, she doesn't ask.

Harry is already dressed for the stage and was busy tying his shoe laces when his wife's heels come into view. Not even a second later, so does that damn sunscreen bottle.

"Put it on."

"M'fine. I don't need it." Harry tries to reason. "It's gonna be night time when I'm performing out there anyways."

He holds back the temptation to smile at her stubborn look but he knows that'll only make her frustrated. But given that the cute pinch in her brow is already there, he guesses there's no point in trying to hide his smirk.

Plus, it's really hard to not already have a pleased expression at the sight of her in a silk blue dress that was only waiting to be taken off of her body by the end of the night.

"I don't care. Put on the fookin' lotion."

"No."

"Your chest has been red since the last show."

"You look beautiful."

"You're getting sunburned!"

"No m'not."

Before he can get another out, YN presses the pad of her index finger into the a spot by the one of the shallows tattooed on his chest and he hisses at the sting from his inflamed skin. He bats her hand away and notices how the yellow imprint from her finger slowly fades back to red. Despite the clear indication that she's right, he still doesn't say anything.

Even married, he can't let go of his pride to being wrong to his love. He's denied her of her help all day that it would only embarrass him and make him look bad if he gives in now.

Knowing this herself, YN tucks her lips in with a shrug. She places the bottle on the vanity and decides to leave the matter alone. She tried, and if he needs to have aloe vera be applied to his skin when it begins to peel, well, he could do that himself.

Despite how frustrated, irritated or upset the two might be at each other before a show, they're never ones of break their traditional pre-show ritual.

She cups his face and presses a short kiss to her husband's lips.

"Have fun out there. You're gonna do great. I love you."

His mouth opens to say something, anything, as she turns to walk out the room, but no words come out. Instead, he's left to finish getting ready with the icky feeling of guilt settling in and that damn bottle staring back at him.

Before the show starts, YN and her manager, Jenny, walk backstage to get to their designated spot in the pit for family and friends. She turns her head to the sound of feet hitting the pavement and a call of her name.

She furrows her brows when she sees Jeff and her husband running up to her, his cropped blue vest in hand instead of on his torso.

"What's wrong? Everything alright?" YN's voice is laced with concern given that he's supposed to be moments away from being on stage.

"Be quick." He pants out of breath. She's confused for a moment at what he could possibly mean. It's when she looks at what he's shoved in her hand that it finally clicks. She's quickly popping the cap off the bottle and squirting some lotion in the palm of her hand. After handing the sunscreen to her manager, she rubs her hands together before lathering up his torso, his abs, his chest--anywhere she can cover.

"Aw did you have to put on a little sunny-screen because your mummy told you to?" Jeff teases in a baby voice before breaking out in a laugh, only to receive a slap on the arm from Jenny.

YN doesn't even hit him back with a witty comment. Too smug, smiley and occupied with smoothing the lotion over her husband's broad shoulders and down his arms to care. So much so, that she doesn't even notice when Lloyd takes a few quick pictures of the couple before running off to take his place on stage.

She rubs the remaining bits of lotion over the apples of his cheeks, his t-zone, and his nose before taking hold of his face to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

"Okay, yeh all set."

He shakes his head at the smugness written all over her beautiful features. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone how he always folds for her in the end, no matter how strong headed both of them are.

"You're lucky I love you."

"Please, you're the lucky one."

"Damn right I am," He grins at her giggle as he pulls her back in for another kiss. Too enthroned and stupidly in love with this woman, he doesn't think twice about cupping her cheek with one hand while his arm circles around her waist, deepening what was supposed to be a short and sweet kiss.

"Um, H?" Jeff calls after a moment. "You got a show to do, remember?"

"Mhm, yeah." Harry mumbles out of the corner of his mouth to not completely break the kiss, fully enclosing himself around his wife while her arms go around his neck. "Be there in a sec."

Jenny's back is the the couple, her hands clasped together as she looks up at the ceiling to give them their privacy. She already knows that its best to just let them be than trying to break them apart; for Harry's shows anyway. But when it comes for her singer, she's hustling YN to be on stage, ready to perform, and on time.

Jeff on the other hand is looking down the empty hallway, anxiously looking at the watch on his wrist before scratching at his brow. He spares a glance at the two with a pained expression.

"You Love Birds need to go on a second honeymoon or some something, you horny fucks."

"Way ahead of you, Jeffery."

Harry give a lopsided grin at YN's words, pressing another smearing kiss to her lips. The two weeks they used for their honeymoon back in January was barely enough time for anything before having to go back on their respected world tours. With both of their show numbers decreasing by the week, the married couple plans to go MIA for a very long time: drinking wine at their private villa in Italy, walking along the shore at their getaway beach house in Malibu, tangled under the sheets in their bedroom in France.

From their spot backstage, they can hear the field full of fans begin to scream in excitement as the intro video plays. Desperate, Jeff turns to the wife for some complacency. "Mrs. Styles? Unless you want your husband to be out of a job in the next 60 seconds?"

YN pulls away with a smile, biting her lip as her husband looks down at her like he's one kiss away from canceling the show.

"Think of me when you're out there." She closes her eyes when he bumps their foreheads together, nearly melting when he rubs their noses together; a soft and loving gesture despite the dirty thoughts swimming in his head.

"Always." Harry answers easily, bringing her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the rock on her finger.

With a new sense of spunk and pump to be on stage, Harry throws a sly wink to his wife before maneuvering around her and walks towards the stage. YN's eyes linger on his back muscles as he lifts his arms in the air, looping them through the arm holes in his cropped vest.

His words are cheeky and light as he says over his shoulder, "You coming, Jeffery?"

SINCE 2010 masterlist

taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee @harianaswhore @gxbiqs @mvaldez7821 @yourfavplayboybunny @drewrry @thurhomish @roseke @majasophieanna @lilfreakjez @rach2699 @renatavieira

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perotovar · 10 months ago

Text

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 1) "session one"

gif by me

pairing: joel miller/dieter bravo (just this time. main pairing is still javi/joel) rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 3.5k content: swearing, joel and tommy's southern accents being cute af, dieter being a menace, joel being awkward af (but it's cute), cringey porn dialogue, male masturbation (briefly), one (1) handjob, one (1) blowjob (it's messy), lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily ♥)

summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where most of the ppcu boys are gay porn stars~

(read this first ->) prologue | series masterlist

Joel never would have guessed he’d do something like this ten years ago. Hell, not even five years ago. He’s not even totally sure how he got here, if he’s honest with himself.

He just remembers an, admittedly shady, business-looking man coming up to him and shoving a business card in his face. He asked if Joel had ever slept with men before. Joel was taken aback and thought he was coming onto him in a really bizarre way. He had, but that was none of this man’s business as far as he was concerned.

“There’s no pressure, I promise. Here, my website is on the card. If you see what you like, you gimme a call, okay?” The man had winked, grabbed his coffee, and left.

Joel was left sitting in the middle of that coffee shop stunned into silence.

Later that night, sitting in front of the laptop Sarah nearly forced on him, he clumsily typed (using only his index fingers) the name of the website from the business card into the search bar.

Love Bites

The name and the man, Max Phillips according to the card, and his invasive question should’ve told him everything he needed to know, but Joel wasn’t prepared for the absolute onslaught of nudity he was met with.

“Jesus–” Joel mumbled to himself, slamming the laptop closed. Not that that would take it away, but he could hope. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head to himself. “The fuck you get yourself into, Miller?” He grumbled.

Slowly, and with one eye closed, he opened his laptop again. Once he got both eyes on it again, the website wasn’t… too bad. Well, it was still a porn site, but it wasn’t anything he hadn't seen before. He started looking around some more and didn’t bother turning it down. He lived alone now, both girls having moved out within the last year or so. He missed the hell out of them, and frankly, found himself bored more often than not. He and Tommy still owned Miller Contracting, but Joel stuck to the delegating and organizing part now. He had too many knee and back problems to keep up on the actual building part.

His finger rolled over to the “profiles” section of the website. He raised a brow and clicked on the trackpad hesitantly. There were several headshots of the men that made content for the website. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans and cleared his throat awkwardly, exhaling heavily. Well, it… had been a while. What could it hurt, right?

He did have a lot of options…

Dark eyes trailing over the men on the site, he smiled softly. They all had little biographies that explained what their sexualities and preferences were. He snorted a little at seeing two different cowboys; one gay and a little older than himself, the other bisexual and perhaps around the same age. The younger cowboy had a prominent mustache and had a preference for “tying people up”. Bit on the nose in Joel’s opinion, but there was something for everyone. The older cowboy tended toward more amateur-style, “romantic” videos. Joel’s heart softened a little, but decided he wasn’t really in the mood for that sort of thing.

In his search, he found just about everything; a messy haired, self proclaimed “adventurous” sort, a masked man that liked to roleplay, a clean cut looking man that considered himself a “romantic”. You name it, they probably had it. But his eyes landed on a particular man…

He had deep, intense eyes and a thick mustache. His hair was styled like he walked out of the 80s and he was wearing a thin gold chain. He had a bit of a Burt Reynolds thing going on, and normally that wouldn’t be something Joel was into, but this time, well…

Joel clicked on his – Javier’s – page and started browsing the videos he had available. His bio said he was “fluid and polyamorous”, but Joel didn’t know what that meant. Wow, he was… popular. That didn’t surprise Joel at all, but his eyes landed on one of Javier’s “solo” videos. It looked like it was filmed in his apartment, but it probably wasn’t from how well lit it was. The video started off like Joel guessed all of them did; a fancy graphic with the words “Love Bites” in the center of the screen before the sound effect of someone taking a bite out of something, and a faint moan. The tips of Joel’s ears warmed, but he pressed on, watching Javier walk onto screen and sit in the middle of the couch that was in frame.

Javier’s jeans were very tight, but maybe even moreso because of how fucking hard he looked to be. Joel swallowed a lump in his throat, his cock twitching again. Javier had an easy smirk on his handsome face, but he seemed like he didn’t have the cockiness that Joel expected a pornstar to have. The video seemed like it was personally sent to Joel and that thought made Joel’s cock stand to attention almost comically quickly. Unzipping his own jeans, he groaned at the constriction leaving, allowing him to breathe easier. He squeezed his cock and looked back at the video, Javier already getting started without him. He was stroking his own cock slowly, almost teasingly, biting a plump bottom lip. Joel moaned and shut his eyes for a quick second as he took himself in hand–

Ring, ring.

Joel groaned, squeezing his cock harder, and dug his phone out of his pocket. Tommy. He sighed and paused the video on Javier’s blissed out face and big hand wrapped around his–

Ring, ring.

“Christ, Tommy, what is it?” He grumbled, pressing the too-new-for-his-liking phone to his ear.

“Jesus, who pissed in your oatmeal this mornin’?” Tommy’s easy voice filtered in, a chuckle wrapped around his words. “And why are ya outta breath? Ya okay?”

“What–? Yeah, ‘m fine, Tommy. Why y’callin’?”

“Wonderin’ if ya could stop by tonight. Maria’s makin’ meatloaf and I know ya like it.”

Joel did really like Maria’s meatloaf. He sighed to himself and shut his laptop, his cock having softened considerably since hearing his brother’s voice. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, trying to subtly zip up his jeans while he held the phone against his shoulder. “I’ll come over in a little bit, just gotta… gonna make a phone call.”

“Ooh, ya finally have a date, old man?”

“Can it,” Joel grunted. “‘M forty-three. Ain’t that old. And no, I was gonna call Sarah. See how her classes are goin’.”

“Send her our love, will ya? ‘N tell her she’ll have a cousin soon. Maria’s ‘bout to pop any day. ‘M scared to death,” Tommy sighed. The happiness was clear in his voice, though. Joel was happy for him, and smiled to himself. “How’s Ellie doin’, by the way?”

“Good. Think she said somethin’ ‘bout joinin’ a… roller derby team? Don’t rightly know, but,” he shrugged to himself. “Sounded like somethin’ she’d like, way she was describin’ it.”

Talking on the phone with Tommy always went the same way. He’d find a way to chew up a couple hours of your time, but Joel never minded. Once they said their goodbyes and their I-love-yous, Joel picked up Max Phillips’ business card and sighed, rubbing his thumb over the phone number.

What could it hurt, right?

That was two years ago. He’s been working for Love Bites for two years and had been avoiding Javier Peña as much as he could.

Joel’s never been good at… initiating conversations. Ellie would always give him shit for it. She usually went up to whoever had caught Joel’s eye and slyly made it her goal to get them to come over to him.

But Ellie wasn’t here and she never would be. His girls knew what he did and even if they were a little concerned for him at first, they saw how much happier he’d been since joining. He was healthier, gaining a bit of “chub” as Sarah called it, and a healthier glow to his skin. He was on camera more often now, so he had to eat well and work out a little more. He didn’t do anything too crazy, and the audience that watched his videos had a lot of positive opinions and comments about his physique. It made him blush to think about it for too long, so he tried not to.

What was he saying?

Oh, right. Avoiding Javier Peña.

He’d had a huge crush on him ever since that first video he watched, and frankly, didn’t want to make a fool of himself if he talked to him. He’s filmed one video with him and it was the best Joel had felt in years. He almost came too quickly, and the video was supposed to be twenty minutes long. They had to pause so Joel could calm himself down, but Javier was patient and lovely with him. Javier had been doing this a lot longer than Joel had, so he wasn’t worried, which made Joel feel better. Just a little embarrassed. Afterwards, he had to leave, making up a story about seeing his girls for dinner that night.

“Javi!”

Joel’s eyes snapped up from his phone. He was in the middle of texting Sarah, saying that he’d call her when he got home from work. He had a scene with Dieter today.

And there he was. God. Joel’s cheeks flushed at the sight of Javier standing in the hall in his robe. He must’ve just finished his scene with Shane, the new kid. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the sound of Javier’s deep, commanding voice was enough to send a chill down Joel’s spine. Before he knew it, Javier was talking animatedly with Steve, another actor, as they walked off down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

He knew, realistically, relationships between porn actors could happen. Silva and Jake had been together for years. Joel’s problem with that was, well… Joel. His last real relationship was with Sarah’s mom years ago, and when the girls were in high school he had a relationship with this guy, Ezra for a while.

Smack!

“Jesus–!” Joel jumped, holding onto one of his ass cheeks protectively. Only one person would have done that.

“Hey, handsome,” Dieter grinned, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Joel’s jeans and squeezing. “Getting lost in Javi’s eyes again?” He winked.

“N-no! I am not,” Joel grumbled, finishing off his text and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Dieter snorted and rolled his eyes, then removed his hand to hold it out for Joel to take. “C’mon, big guy. You get to cum on my face today,” he smirked.

Filming with Dieter always felt good. He was a bit wild for Joel’s personal tastes, but he always made sure Joel was comfortable, and today was no different.

Joel was playing a “plumber” that needed to work on Dieter’s “pipes”. This of course led to Dieter offering to “pay” in his own way.

“Oh, come on, big guy like you doesn’t need money, right?” Dieter recited his lines expertly, running a hand down Joel’s t-shirt covered chest. “Bet it gets lonely doing this sort of work, huh?”

Joel had gotten a lot better at the acting part of things over the past couple of years. He was super stiff (and not in the right way) in the beginning, but now, he easily plastered on a smirk, eyes glued to Dieter’s lips. “Sometimes,” he shrugged, a big hand hovering over Dieter’s shoulder. Dieter saw the hand out of the corner of his eye and grinned, curling his fingers around Joel’s thick wrist and moving it down to his ass.

Joel smirked, squeezing the plump flesh appreciatively. “Bit forward o’ you,” he rumbled.

Dieter visibly shivered and bit his lip. “Sexy guy like you, of course I am,” he breathed. He leaned forward and kissed Joel messily, the hand on Joel’s torso moving down to unzip his jeans. Joel was already painfully hard and grunted into Dieter’s mouth when his pants were opened and lowered enough to pull his cock free. Dieter moaned and curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft, pumping rhythmically.

They stayed like that for a while; open mouth kisses, heavy breathing from Joel, and Dieter’s moans being picked up by the mics.

Dieter pulled away to look down at the thick cock in his hand and bit his lip at the sight. “Fuck,” he groaned, his own cock twitching in his sweats. “Can I suck your cock?” He looked up at Joel demurely, eyes big and nearly black with desire.

Joel forgot he was supposed to be acting for a minute and grunted, hips bucking into Dieter’s grasp. “F-fuck, yeah,” he nodded, eyes glazed over. Dieter smiled and guided Joel over to the couch on the set. Technically, Dieter was supposed to get on his knees in the “kitchen”, but he knew Joel wouldn’t be able to stand for that long with his back problems. Sometimes Dieter’s improv classes came in handy. Max couldn’t complain too much, as long as Dieter sucked Joel off, then the video was still following the script.

Joel grunted as he sat, hard cock swaying slightly. Dieter giggled a little and happily got down on his knees, hands traveling up and down Joel’s thighs appreciatively. “Such a pretty cock,” he hummed, licking his lips as he watched it twitch in front of him, a drop of pre-cum gathering at the tip.

“Why dontcha put that mouth to use, then?” Joel smirked, gripping the base and tapping the head against Dieter’s cheek. “Want your discount, right?”

Dieter smiled and opened his mouth wide, eyes shut in pure bliss. Joel gripped Dieter’s messy curls and held him still as he hit the head of his cock against Dieter’s tongue. Dieter moaned and opened his eyes, watching Joel’s face for any cues to stop. They never came, but it was something they all had to keep an eye on. When everything seemed to be going well, he happily wrapped his mouth around the head of Joel’s cock and started bobbing his head up and down.

He moaned, the vibrations traveling down Joel’s cock and up his spine, making Joel groan in return. “Mmm, knew you’d be good with your mouth,” he grinned, holding the back of Dieter’s head to set a pace Joel liked better.

Dieter heard a cameraman move to his right to get a better angle of his mouth, so he amped it up a little. He got messier, saliva dripping down along the sides of Joel’s shaft. Joel moaned weakly, resting his head on the back of the couch, but keeping one of his hands tangled in Dieter’s messy curls. Dieter started bobbing his head slower, eyes locked on Joel’s face as he moved further down his shaft, taking as much as he could down his throat. He choked slightly and pulled off, pre-cum and saliva covering his mouth and Joel’s cock. He smiled up at Joel and panted heavily, curling his fingers around the base to pump the thick cock.

Joel’s eyes rolled back and he grunted, hips bucking off the couch. “C’mere,” he breathed, heavy work boots landing heavily on the set floor as he stood. “Gonna fuck your face.”

Dieter shivered at the low timbre of Joel’s voice and nodded happily up at him. He pulled his sweats down and gripped his own cock in hand and started stroking himself rhythmically. Dieter opened his mouth for Joel obediently and nearly choked again when Joel shoved his cock down Dieter’s throat. He moaned weakly when Joel’s hips started moving, his heavy balls slapping against Dieter’s chin.

Dieter just had to take it, the lewd sounds of Joel fucking his face filling the otherwise quiet room. He fucking loved it because Joel was subtly massaging Dieter’s scalp and it sent shivers down his spine. His fist was almost a blur over his own cock and tears leaked out of his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks.

“Mmm, bein’ such a good boy f’me,” Joel grunted, biting his lip to rein it in a little. Dieter moaned at the praise, eyebrows downturned in pleasure. “Yeah? Like bein’ my good boy?”

Dieter whined and nodded as best he could, eyes completely glazed over. Joel slowed down his hips a little and let Dieter breathe for a minute. Dieter panted hard, a near-dopey smile on his face. “Come on my face,” he breathed heavily, extending his tongue for Joel. “Please.”

It was Joel’s turn to shiver as he slapped the head of his cock against Dieter’s face again. “Gonna have to earn it,” Joel smirked, reciting his lines as well as he could.

Dieter whined and pouted up at him, his own hand slowing down a little. He didn’t say anything, letting Joel continue.

“Make me come, and I’ll paint this pretty face o’ yours.”

Dieter’s face lit up and he curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft. He watched Joel’s face while he wrapped his lips around the head and bobbed his head. His free hand held Joel’s hip and subtly moved to his ass and squeezed. He moaned around Joel’s cock and shut his eyes briefly before obediently looking up at him, big eyes wet and innocent.

“Atta boy,” Joel grunted, cupping Dieter’s face lovingly. Dieter removed his mouth to kiss down his length as he stroked him, attaching his lips to one of Joel’s balls. “Mmm, fuck,” Joel breathed, tipping his head back.

The hand on Joel’s ass moved slightly until one of Dieter’s fingertips prodded at Joel’s asshole. Joel grunted in surprise and smiled down at Dieter. “Really want me all over ya, huh?”

“Yes,” Dieter nodded, sucking one of Joel’s balls into his mouth. “Please.”

“Keep talkin’ like that and– ooh, fuck – Jus’ might get your wish,” Joel panted, shutting his eyes. He felt the build up in his lower stomach, his cock twitching violently in Dieter’s hand. “C’mere, baby boy,” he grinned, taking his cock back to stroke himself over Dieter’s face.

Dieter was buzzing, lifting Joel’s t-shirt to lovingly caress his hairy tummy, mouth open wide and obedient.

Joel felt his balls draw up and his hips buck until– “Fuck–! Shit,” He moaned, thick ropes of come spurting out from the tip of his cock and landing on Dieter’s face and mouth. He caressed Dieter’s hair, thick fingers massaging his scalp while the other hand stroked himself until his balls were completely empty.

Dieter happily licked his mouth clean, and hid his face in Joel’s stomach, whimpering into the sweaty skin. He moaned weakly, his entire body trembling as he came, completely untouched. Dieter was the only one in the cast that could do that, and he loved showing it off as much as he could.

“Shit,” Joel smiled, petting Dieter’s sweaty curls back and out of his face. “Ain’t you a sight.”

“Cut!”

Dieter deflated, a huge grin on his face. He started giggling into Joel’s stomach and smiled up at him. “Fucking love your cock, Joel,” he hummed happily.

“That’s what you always say,” Joel snorted, helping him up onto his feet. Dieter was a little wobbly still and cuddled into Joel’s side. He always got a little clingy after a scene, but Joel didn’t mind. As different as they were, Joel would probably consider Dieter one of his closest friends. It always worked in their favor, their natural chemistry and closeness coming through the cameras.

They were handed a couple towels and some water, the both of them taking them gratefully. Max came up to them, his usual shit-eating grin on his face. Joel always thought Max reminded him of a vampire, with that mischievous glint in his eye that always seemed to be there.

“Great show, boys,” Max started. “Dieter, d’you mind if I steal Joel away for a second?”

Dieter whined and clinged onto Joel tighter. Joel grinned and hugged him back. “Sorry, boss, looks like he ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”

Max rolled his eyes, but continued anyway. “Fine. Meant to tell you earlier, but things got rolling, you know how it is–”

“What is it, Max?”

“You’ve got a scene with Javier tomorrow.”

If there were a record player anywhere, Joel would probably hear it scratching right about now. Dieter paused too, and looked up at Joel with worried eyes. He knew all about Joel’s crush, and was always telling Joel to just go for it. Joel froze briefly, but tried to school his emotions as best he could.

“O-okay, um. What time?” He asked shakily, gripping Dieter’s fluffy robe tighter.

“I’m thinking around noon? That way Javier can prepare, y’know?”

Preparing was always done before a particularly intense scene. Joel tried really hard not to think about Javier wearing a plug for a while before coming to set.

“Right,” Joel nodded, cheeks going a little pink. “I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best, Joel!” Max snapped his fingers and walked off, talking to a couple of assistants.

Dieter tapped on his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You really gotta say something, Joel,” he said softly.

Joel sighed and nodded. He knew that.

He just didn’t know what.

#joel miller #dieter bravo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller series #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo series #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fanfiction #oaksfics

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ozarkthedog · 2 years ago

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𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

summary: you try to be a good gf and make Joel breakfast but he has other plans.

warnings: -> 18+ only | MDNI <- no outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader. smut. Joel is a menace. rough sex. dirty talk. tommy makes an appearance. my stupid sense of humor. no beta.

word count: 1.0k

author’s note: i had to get this thot out of my brain. enjoy! ty for the support @thornsnvultures & @ghotifishreads 💙

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

“You look good wearin’ my shirt.” Joel mumbles, stalking up behind you.

You peek over your shoulder at him and smile. He looks tired but happy as you turn back to the stove. You snuck out of bed not too long ago, intent on making him breakfast as a way to say thank you for last night.

He invades your space as you coat the skillet with butter. His bare chest smothers your back as he hooks his chin over your shoulder and slides his arms around your waist with a sigh. “Sleep alright?”

It was the first time staying the night at his place and you oddly felt at home. “Yeah, like a rock. Especially after that marathon sex session.”

Joel chuckles into your neck recalling all the sinful positions and moans he pulled from you. “Thank god for Sarah spending the night at her friend’s.”

The two of you sway softly as you crack four eggs into the hot skillet. His hands slowly wander your body while you work. Those rough, worn hands slide over your belly, graze your thinly covered breasts, and mold around your hips.

“Love feeling your curves under my shirt.” Joel confesses kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear. He slowly grinds his semi hard cock against your ass, the material of his boxers making it easy to glide over your skin.

You gasp and clutch the countertop for support when a confident hand slides down the front of your panties. You shiver under his touch as he casually rubs your tiny nub. “Joel, I’ve got to cook breakfast.” You whine through the sweet pressure.

“Don’t worry about me.” He eases his throbbing, solid length from his boxers before giving it a tug. “I’ll entertain myself.” He says coyly, before tearing your panties from your hips. You yelp from the roughness and almost drop the spatula.

He curses under his breath as he thumbs your already dripping folds. “My sweet girl. Your pussy gives you away.” He ruts against the soft curve of your ass staining your skin with shiny trails of precum. “You like me usin’ you like this.”

The statement makes your belly flip. Your brain goes numb. The room feels unbearably hot and the searing skillet you’re standing over doesn’t help. All you can do is whine and arch your back in response.

“S’ok, baby. I got you.” His fingers drag along your slick seam with teasing caresses. “Gonna take everythin’ I give ya. Ain’t tha’ right?”

You dumbly nod, too strung out to speak besides moaning like a wanton whore as his fingers dip in and out of your tight hole. He works his fingers into you, scissoring and rubbing along your soaked channel, forcing illicit mewls from your throat.

“Best flip those eggs.”

The dark timbre of his voice jolts you from the euphoric haze. You scramble with the spatula and haphazardly flip the eggs just as he notches the bulbous head of his cock against your sopping entrance. Your cunt weeps, dripping sticky arousal down his length as he tips his hips and slowly sheaths his thick cock inside your warmth.

You both moan in unison from the intense pressure as he forms your velvet walls around him. He lets you breathe for a brief moment. Kisses pepper your temple and ease the stress from your brow while you adjust to his massive size. Your core flutters and blossoms as the pain ceases and the searing pleasure begins to rise.

Joel roughly grabs a fistful of his shirt and jerks you back until you’re plastered against him. His left arm splays across your clavicle and secures a large hand over your shoulder, locking you like a vice to his burly frame.

His breath fans your cheek, teeth nipping lightly at your skin. “Keep an eye on my breakfast, girl. I don’t want no burnt eggs.”

He bucks his hips and drives into your core so hard you’d have slammed into the counter if he wasn’t holding you. Your mouth hangs open in shock, spilling sinful moans from your lips with every powerful thrust. His cock barely leaves your warmth for a second as he savagely saws in and out of your heat.

Frantic thrust leaves you gasping and writhing. Your nails dig into his forearms as he holds you steady leaving no room for escape. “Take it all, girl. Be good. Know you can.” He grunts and cruelly grinds his pelvis into your ass.

Your walls flutter and convulse making his chest rumble. His hips drive faster, relentlessly fucking you, desperate to feel you come around his cock. “Your drippin’ down my balls.” He grits against your cheek. “Maybe I’ll use this sweet cunt anytime I feel the urge instead of my hand.”

Skillful fingers slink to the apex of your thighs and draw tight circles around your slippery clit forcing your orgasm to crest. “Thatta’ girl. Make a fuckin’ mess.” Your cunt quivers as you come with a raspy shout and douse his cock with your cream. His sack tightens making him bury his soaked length as deep as he can go with a ragged grunt. He pumps you so full of his seed you think you can taste it at the back of your throat.

Suddenly, the garage door sounds. “Oh, shit. It’s Tommy.” Joel warns before withdrawing from your core with a hiss and carefully stuffing his cock back into the confines of his boxers.

“Fuck, where’re my panties!?” You squeak, while turning the burner off and tugging at Joel’s shirt, praying your ass won’t be on full display.

“Play it cool.” Joel rasps as he locks an arm around your shoulder and drags you over to the island hoping it’ll hide the evidence of what just transpired. Joel’s cum drips down your thighs making you squeeze your legs together with a cringe.

This isn’t going to go well.

Tommy opens the side door and brightens the room with his million-watt smile. “Hey, sorry about the pop in but I was in the area and I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”

He tosses his keys on the table and makes a beeline for the stove. “M’m something smells good. Eggs and…” He noses the air pensively while helping himself to Joel’s overdone eggs, flipping them onto a plate.

You burrow your head into Joel’s chest when the younger man freezes after spying your torn panties on the floor and finally registers the smell.

He stares bemusedly at the older man while pointing to his plate. “Are you serious? Right in front of my eggs?”

💌 my inbox is always open

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

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dickotadrevis · 2 months ago

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I feel fucking horrible. I hope all the people who's DMs with me that Tumblr closed are doing ok. Listen. This is my silly account. This is where I do stupid shit; but I have to make an exception right now. It's been almost a week and staff still hasn't gotten back to me about my main account being shadowbanned and I can see people reblogging my art and memes here so I'm clearly visible. https://rentry.co/victorsfundraiserlist_directory <- This is my list of fundraisers who contacted me and those I was able to compile for DRC and Sudan. Please share them. Many of them are extremely far from their goals and they're all trying to survive fucking genocide.

I'll spotlight a few campaigns here, but they are by no means the only ones you should pay attention to. Please at least look at all of them.

My friend Hazem, who I was just congratulating a few days ago, had to raise his fundraiser goal so he can transfer the funds he raised for his family in Ghazza.

his campaign is vetted here (281)

Amir is a disabled child who is in direct danger of dying since he's unable to continue his vital treatments and special diet. He needs to evacuate Ghazza IMMEDIATELY but has only raised €2,379.

vetted here

This campaign is an evacuation fund for 5 WHOLE FAMILIES suffering under the Sudan genocide. They are all displaced and had their belongings stolen. They're exposed to the elements every day and have been in this situation for OVER A YEAR. They've only reached 1/3 of their goal.

vetted here

Elaf and her family lost their home and their belongings after it was raided by the RSF and have been displaced multiple times. They have no access to basic resources and Elaf's mother is in danger of her medical conditions worsening. They still have 1/3rd of their goal left to raise in order to evacuate.

vetted here

The Congolese humanitarian organization Goma Upendo is working to help support the displaced and impoverished people throughout the region. They have only raised $20,787 CAD out of their $50,000 goal right now.

Another incredible humanitarian organization in the Congo is Focus Congo, who are working to provide medical care and shelter to those suffering under the genocide. They also have a campaign to fund their work here. They're not even halfway to their goal.

Everyone, please share these and the rest of the campaigns in that directory. All of them deserve your attention and all you can do to help. Don't let them go unheard.

(by the way, I know the about section on the site says "DM me at @/victormcdicktor" but I'm sharing this earlier than expected so that account is still shadowbanned. If you need to contact me before I get unbanned DM me here, ty)

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nadvs · 7 months ago

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home before dark (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

After Rafe leaves, you make sure every door and window in your home is shut and locked.

You don’t know if Ty would do something as crazy as break in. But there was a time you’d laugh in disbelief at the thought of him hurling insults at you and that was all he did by the end of your relationship, so you’re not taking any chances.

Beneath the fear he impales you with lies a sense of betrayal. He was so good at pretending to be kind. Only a monster could put on such a convincing act just to break your heart.

When you tell yourself he’ll move on soon, you hate that it feels like false hope.

You text Sarah to let her know you made it home and that you’ll see her at tonight’s beach party. Even though Ty will probably be there, you don’t want him having any more power over you than he already has.

You’re determined to have fun. To have a life. Especially because you have someone protecting you now.

Rafe is unnerved as he stands on the beach under the starry sky that night, surrounded by the guys he parties with all the time.

The crowds and the conversations are all the same, but everything is different now. Because he’s looking out for you and it gives him something he hasn’t had in a long time. Purpose.

It’s disorienting to Rafe, going from avoiding you to keeping his eyes on you so persistently. From afar, he watches you laughing with your friends and now that he has a reason to, he takes you in completely.

He’d be an idiot not to admit that you’re beautiful. But he always knew that, no matter how hard he pretended not to notice you.

You slowly drift further away into the crowd. Rafe continues checking on you, keeping you in his sights.

Later on in the night, you’re in deep conversation with Sarah. Being three years her senior, you were much closer to Rafe when you were kids, but now you’d consider her a good friend.

When her eyes widen at something behind you, your body goes cold, expecting the worst. You turn to see your ex approaching you, a nearly empty beer bottle in his hand.

“Where’s Rafe?” you ask Sarah, hushed.

“Rafe?” she echoes in confusion. While she knows all about your ex, you haven’t had a chance to tell her that her brother is helping you put on a farce. You’re sure she’ll be in disbelief when you catch her up.

“Hey,” Ty says gently, his hand at the small of your back. The sensation you once welcomed makes you sick. “Can we talk? Please? I’m sorry about last night.”

It’s no surprise. You’re used to him yo-yoing between belittling you and putting on his nice guy act.

“No,” you respond, twisting so that his hand slips off of you. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?”

The booze in his system slows him down, but Rafe treads through the sand to you as fast as he can the second he sees Ty talking to you.

Suddenly, Rafe’s broad back is in front of you, a wall separating you from the man who’s tormenting you. When Rafe’s there, you realize Ty doesn’t scare you at all.

“Fuck off,” Rafe mutters.

Ty drunkenly staggers back, creating several feet of distance between you. His face contorts with annoyance.

“You know you’re just a bullshit rebound, right?” Ty calls. You look back at Sarah, who’s watching the exchange in confusion.

“I can’t hear you when you’re running away from me, pussy,” Rafe taunts.

Anger churns inside you at Ty’s words, prompting you to grab Rafe’s hand. You know Rafe couldn’t care less - after all, this relationship is all an act - but Ty calling him a rebound, insinuating that he’s meaningless to you, bothers you.

You pull him away, cupping his fingers with both hands.

Rafe was an inch away from chasing Ty and swinging at him. If it wasn’t for the alcohol blurring his senses, his fist would be aching right now from driving it into Ty’s jaw.

His entire body is stiff with rage, but for once in his life, the tension is dissolving instead of building up onto itself. It’s from the way your hands feel on him.

“What an asshole,” you say. Even though you should probably let go of him, you can’t.

Your touch is so warm. Rafe wants to ask why you reserve kindness for him after he shoved you out of his life. He wishes he could wipe it from his memory, the look on your face after he denied your every effort to talk to him. You grew up, but the disappointment in your stare never changed.

But he doesn’t know how to say all this. He doesn’t talk like that. With anybody. He couldn’t even talk to the therapist his father took him to see after it happened.

Maybe if he had asked him why he couldn’t so much as look at her, Rafe would have told his dad that the therapist’s blonde hair and gentle tone reminded him too much of his mother.

But after she told Ward that Rafe “wasn’t responding to therapy”, all he did was angrily yank his son out of the office, his grasp tight and painful.

Once they made it home, Rafe tearfully rushed to his parents’ bed to try to smell his mother on her pillow even though the sheets had been washed.

He spent most of his childhood pretending he was bigger than he was, eager to grow up. But he remembers nuzzling his head into her pillow that day, hyperventilating and thinking he was too small to know his heart could hurt this bad.

It felt like no time had passed when Rose came into the picture. Rafe knew his parents weren’t in a happy marriage, but he didn’t expect Ward to start seeing another woman so soon.

Rafe angrily confronted his dad, as if a ninety-pound kid could be any sort of threat. It was the first time Ward slapped him. He’s certain that it wasn’t the first time his father wanted to hit him, but his mother had always been his defence. And then in an instant, Rafe didn’t have her anymore.

You reach the shore together, far away enough from the crowd. You pull your hands away from Rafe and cross your arms, gazing at him under the moonlight.

“I wish he’d just stop already,” you say, shaken from Ty’s sudden approach. “Thank you. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Rafe says flatly. But he doesn’t walk away from you. He simply looks out at the dark sea with his hands in his pockets.

The waves crash beside you, the water climbing and retreating over the sand, threatening to wet your shoes.

The last time you stood together looking out at the water like this, you were kids skipping stones over the ocean’s swells. And because he’s not leaving, you take the opportunity to see if he’ll let you in, even just a little bit.

You crouch to pick up a small, smooth stone and try to skip it over the water. It immediately falls straight below the surface. You breathe a short laugh.

“That sucked,” Rafe says. His tone is lighter than what you’re used to.

“It’s been a while,” you retort. “And that rock wasn’t very flat.”

“Sure.” Despite himself, he cracks a smirk.

You can’t remember the last time you saw happiness on his face. He has his mother’s smile.

“You were better at finding the flat ones,” you say.

“I was better at everything.”

“And still so humble about it.” You haven’t joked around with him like this in so long that it feels new. “Prove it, then.”

“What?”

“That you can do better than me,” you say. “Get two skips, at least.”

Rafe keeps his hands in his pockets, looking down at the stones scattered atop the sand. The wind whips around you, threatening rain.

“We’re not kids anymore,” he rasps. If you want to take a walk down memory lane, you can do it alone.

He steps back, inviting the distance that lived between you for years to return. Yet another dismissal.

You step back, too. Your arms are not so much crossed anymore; you’re practically hugging yourself now. You need the comfort and he certainly isn’t going to give it to you.

“Did I do something wrong… before?” you impulsively say. Now that you have his attention, you find a shred of courage to ask him what’s been turning in your mind for years.

Deep down, you’ve always feared it wasn’t just the shock of what happened that made Rafe shut you out. Maybe you did or said something that deemed your friendship not worth keeping. Maybe you were too pushy. Or not pushy enough.

Rafe’s throat tightens. He never planned to have this conversation. He never wanted to.

You see his jaw clench. His silence is loud enough. It’s obvious he’s done speaking.

“Nevermind,” you say dejectedly. You turn, but his deep voice stops you.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his protective instinct kicking in again.

“Back to my friends,” you say.

“He’ll just bother you again,” Rafe states. “Come on.”

He tilts his head towards the side of the beach he was on. Looking at the group of the same rowdy guys you always see him with in the distance makes you frown.

No matter how much you’ve missed him, you know that standing silently next to him while he jokes around with his friends will just be a painful reminder of how he chose them and not you.

“I’ll be fine,” you say.

“It wasn’t a question,” Rafe snaps abruptly.

For the first time since you started speaking again, the compassion you always feel for him is overpowered by anger. You know he’s helping you, but his domineering tone reminds you of how Ty speaks to you.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeat. The cold tide reaches your feet, soaking your shoes.

Irritation pricks Rafe’s skin. For years, you’ve been trying to force conversations with him, and now, when he’s inviting you to stay by his side, you’re shutting him down?

As you walk away, the feeling of rejection screws a hole into his chest. Then he realizes that this is the cold, empty way he’s been making you feel for years.

“I know,” you say when you see Sarah, acknowledging her puzzled expression, linking arms with her.

You’re about to tell her this is all a game of pretend, but the risk of Ty finding out from anyone overhearing or her accidentally mentioning it to someone is too scary.

“What was that?” she says with a disbelieving laugh.

“Rafe and I… started talking again. The other night. And we’re seeing each other now.”

“Wow,” is all she can say. She glances across the beach, as if looking at Rafe will offer any sort of clarity.

You haven’t spoken much about him with Sarah. Years ago, you’d often tell her how much you wished he’d just talk to you again and she’d tell you he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore.

She knows your relationship with him is strained and basically non-existent. You feel bad for lying to her, but your fear of Ty is too big to take any risks.

As the night carries on, your ex stays away from you.

Before heading home, you separate from your friends for just a moment to throw out your cup when you see a figure approaching you.

Goosebumps grow across your skin as Ty passes by behind you, his keys jingling in his hand.

“You planning on hiding behind him forever?” he asks. “What’s gonna happen when he’s not around, huh?”

You stare at him with a scowl, hoping your face isn’t showing just how frightened you are.

To your relief, Ty continues on his way, crossing into the parking lot. You remember him picking you up in the car you watch him sit in now and how he acted like such a gentleman, all the while hiding who he really was.

He succeeded in scaring you. His words left you unsettled, tears pricking your eyes, your breath shallow. The thought of going home and sleeping alone fills you with dread.

Maybe it was just an empty threat. But maybe it wasn’t.

You need someone to stay with you tonight. You rush back onto the sand towards the other side of the beach.

Rafe’s gaze is fixed on one of his friends telling a drunken story. But then you appear, crossing the distance with a fear-struck expression.

“What’d he do?” Rafe mutters, his body tensing. “Where is he?”

“He left,” you respond. Your anxiety pushes you to hold his forearm for some stability.

“What’d he do?” he repeats.

“He… said some stuff,” you say, voice shaking. “Can you-”

“I told you to stay with me,” Rafe interrupts. He’s seething. This could have been prevented if you had just listened to him.

But the way you’re breathing and holding onto him, as if you’re lost at sea and he’s the only thing keeping you afloat, makes him regret snapping.

“And I didn’t listen because you yelled at me just like he does,” you mumble quietly, letting go.

The comparison stings. He shouldn’t blame you. He knows that. And now that the booze has worn off, he’d love a shot at Ty with nothing slowing him down.

Some of his buddies are watching you two in confusion. They’d never seen you together and now you’re clearly in a heated conversation. Just like a couple fighting.

“What were you gonna ask me?” Rafe says, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you.

You’re unsure if you should ask. But even with your home’s security system in place, who knows how long police would take to arrive after a triggered alarm? You need someone already there in case Ty is crazy enough to break in. Someone you know can protect you.

“Can you stay at my house tonight?“ you mumble. “I’m scared of being alone.”

Rafe falters. He agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend, and staying with you is a boyfriend thing to do, but the pressure of being in an empty house together after years of avoiding you makes him uneasy.

Yet, at the same time, the prospect of being completely alone with you gives him a sense of home that only adds to the confusion that’s been clouding in his mind.

“Did you drive here?” he finally says.

You know next to nothing about Rafe these days, but you do know that he does almost everything alone. He never arrives or leaves parties with people. It’s always just him on his motorcycle.

“I came with a friend,” you reply. “But I can wait until you’re ready to leave.”

His muscles lose some of their tension. You’d be willing to stand here and wait for as long as you’d need to just so you don’t have to be on your own. You’re desperate.

Rafe stays out until he’s exhausted. It’s how he makes sure the second he’s in bed, he can take a shot or do a line and fall asleep right away, giving no opportunity to be subjected to his thoughts.

But guilt is a powerful opponent and this is a fight he knows he’ll lose.

“Let’s go,” he sighs.

After you let your friend know you have a ride home, you make your way to Rafe’s motorcycle with him in silence.

He grabs his helmet from the boot, thoughtlessly about to put it on. But then he remembers he’s not alone for once.

He holds the helmet out to you. You hesitate, about to ask him if he has an extra for himself, but why would he?

“You sure?” you ask.

“Take it.”

“You don’t have to,” you say. Rafe sends a groan towards the starry sky.

“Goddamn it, do you have to be so difficult?” he mutters. The edge of his tone is cutting. You’re fed up.

“I know you’re doing me a favor, but could you stop being so rude about it?” you say.

Rafe exhales in frustration. Shit. He’s sure he’s acting just like your asshole ex again.

“Isn’t the whole point of this to keep you safe?” he says, softness in his voice. “Can you just put it on?”

You look up at him through your lashes. His forlorn gaze extinguishes the fire of your irritation and you relent, accepting the helmet, the shell cold and hard in your hands.

Rafe swings his leg over the bike, turning on the engine. He glances back at you as you put the helmet on.

You steady yourself and straddle the sputtering motorcycle. It’s nerve-racking placing your hands on Rafe’s hips.

With his feet on the ground, he drags his big hands over yours and guides them up to his abdomen.

“You have to hold tighter,” he half-shouts over the engine. You obey, your chest pressing against his back, your arms wrapping around his torso.

You wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is pounding. His t-shirt is so thin. His body is firm and warm.

You appreciate that he gave you his helmet, but you wish it wasn’t in the way now so that you could lean on him and press your cheek between his shoulder blades.

Your mind has run away from you. It’s odd craving someone who doesn’t seem to like you all that much. You still don’t even know why he’s helping you.

As Rafe drives out of the lot, slower than he usually would, he hates that he likes the feeling of you wrapped around him this much. He’s been pushing this sort of closeness away for so long. He didn’t know it could feel so good.

As he drives beneath the glowing streetlights, he can’t remember the last time he felt proud of himself like he does now. The relief that washed over your face when he told you he’d stay at your house is replaying in his mind.

While he’s the one protecting you, you’re giving him something, too. You’re pulling him away from the sense of aimlessness he lives in every day.

Rafe goes to his place first, stuffing the things he’ll need to sleep over into a duffle bag and draping it across his chest, before driving to your house.

When you step through the front door together, he watches you quickly enter your code into the security panel, then rush to shut and lock the door.

You’re clearly still so terrified. Rafe needs to know exactly what Ty did to make you act like this.

“What’d he say to you?” he breaks the silence, dropping his bag into his hand. “Tonight. What’d he say?”

You lean against the door, hands tucked behind you as you look up at him. It’s odd, Rafe being in your house. You never thought he’d be here again.

“He asked me if I’m gonna hide behind you forever and what I’ll do when you’re not with me,” you say. It makes Rafe want to kill the idiot with his bare hands.

“I’d call the police,” you continue, “but they don’t help unless he actually does something. Or if there’s proof that he’s planning to. I just hope he gets tired of it so you don’t have to keep doing this.”

Rafe wants to tell you he’ll be here for you for as long as you need him. It’s a shock that his knee-jerk reaction is to make a promise to anyone, let alone to you.

But it’s no surprise that your focus is on how this is affecting him. He still can’t figure out what could possibly make you think he’s worth the consideration.

“Where am I sleeping?” he asks, settling for the easy way out of the conversation.

You lead him upstairs to the guest room a few doors down from your bedroom. Rafe’s eyes travel over the family photos organized in a neat grid on the hallway wall, watching you grow up through every image.

His heart lurches at an image of four people on the beach. It’s you two as kids, surrounded by your smiling mothers. He hasn’t looked at a photo of his mom in years.

You notice the sound of Rafe’s footsteps stop and you look back to see him staring at a photo. You’ve memorized the wall by now, knowing exactly which one he’s looking at.

What can you possibly say? That you miss her, too? You can’t come close to understanding his grief.

His forehead crinkles, his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and you swear you see him stop breathing for a moment. Then his gaze darts off of the photo and you silently lead him the rest of the way.

Rafe enters the room you take him to and swings the door behind him without a word.

You get ready for bed and settle under your covers. Knowing you’re not alone helps you doze off within minutes.

You’re in a deep sleep when a loud clang pulls you into consciousness. Immediately, you fear it’s Ty.

But once you hear the tapping on the window, you realize it’s storming outside. A roll of thunder is what woke you up. You check the time to see it’s nearly two a.m.

Thunder rumbles again as you slip out of bed. Your survival instinct is beckoning you to go check on Rafe, to make sure he’s still here in case you need him.

You turn on the hallway light and see that the guest room door is just slightly open. And the bed is empty.

Before you can jump to conclusions, you hear a laugh track spilling out of the television downstairs. He didn’t leave.

You’re pretty sure Rafe doesn’t want you disrupting his solitude. But you need to know why he’s doing all this for you. It’s been tumbling in your mind since he agreed to it. That’s what gives you the push to go downstairs and find him.

(part three)

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#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x you

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lolxdswag123 · 1 month ago

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Who’s the bad influence? Pt. 3

Rafe Cameron x reader series

Authors note: this is the third part of the series, I just put them all in a masterlist that I have pinned on my profile.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, unhealthy family dynamic

_______________________________________________

When I woke up the next morning, all I could think about was getting rid of my pounding headache and unbearable dry mouth. After throwing it all up last night, I thought I would've gotten everything out of my system. Obviously not.

I was partially thankful for Rafe being there for me the night before. The other part of me was mad he had to see me that way. I wasn’t exactly embarrassed- that isn’t the right word. We grew up together. He’s seen me embarrass myself plenty of times. I couldn’t place a finger on what I was feeling, but it was somewhere in between a heavy awkwardness and a slight comfort.

I sat up, clutching my head, and searched for my water bottle from the night before. I picked it up, but on second thought decided not to drink out of it. My mouth had been on it before I used the mouthwash last night.

I checked my phone, seeing that it was only 8:30, and saw 3 missed texts from my friends.

One from Sarah:

Hey, Rafe told me you guys made it back. Let me know if you need anything!

She's the best.

Another from Kie:

Sarah said you left with Rafe last night? I feel bad for you

And one more from JJ:

Sorry for last night

I made a mental note to respond to them after I found some water and Advil. I slowly got out of Sarah's bed, hearing voices downstairs. I followed the sound of the voices until I reached the kitchen where Rafe and Topper had clearly just cleaned.

As I enter the room in search of water, Topper says, "So, Megan really didn't stay over last night?"

I grab a water bottle out of the refrigerator, turning toward them to listen to their conversation. "Nah," Rafe replied, shaking his head and putting the remaining empty beer cans from the counter into a large trash bag.

Topper shook his head in disbelief, "I feel like you're lying, dude. She has been all over you lately."

I froze in place, trying not to announce my presence until I hear the end of this conversation.

"I told you, I'm not feeling it." Rafe said dismissively, tying off the garbage back and setting it aside. As he turns to grab more cleaning supplies from underneath the sink he notices me.

His eyes catch on me for a moment, a smirk in the corner of his mouth, before returning to his duties.

"Morning," he says, grabbing a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle.

"Morning," I reply, walking around the counter to sit in the chair next to Topper. "So, who's Megan?" I ask, looking at my brother for an answer.

"Just this hot girl that has been all over Rafe the past few weeks," Topper shrugs, saying it as if it's common knowledge.

"Ooooh," I say, "Do you have a picture?" I ask, masking my true intentions with feigned interest.

"Yeah, let me pull up her Instagram." Topper says, pulling out his phone.

Rafe breathes out harshly before saying, "I told you, I'm not into it."

I glance up and lock eyes with him for a moment, raising my eyebrows in question. He shakes his head in response.

The silent exchange goes unnoticed by my brother, who had already pulled up Megan's Instagram. He holds out the phone for me to take, allowing me to scroll through her photos. I had to admit, the girl was hot. She had long, thick hair and glowing skin. Part of me admired her, and part of me also resented her existence. I scrolled through all of her recent photos before coming across a recent photo at the beach.

"Damn, Rafe," I said, "She is hot!"

"See?" Topper encouraged, "That's what I'm telling you."

Rafe rolls his eyes, not acknowledging our comments. We sit there a little while longer as Topper recounts all of the events from the night before. I zone out, not really caring to hear about all of the stupid kook drama. I find myself instead watching Rafe as he finishes cleaning. I start to wonder more about this Megan girl.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as Topper announced, "And that's why right before you came down here I was just thanking my good buddy Rafe for not letting my baby sis sleep at a pogues house. Right Rafe?" He looked at Rafe proudly, seeking his confirmation.

"Anytime, Top." Rafe said dryly, "Now I don't want to be that guy, but you guys need to go before Ward gets back. His flight is coming in early."

We both nod, standing up from our chairs. Topper said he was going to grab his keys from upstairs, but I already had my purse ready to go. I just needed to give Rafe his clothes back.

I walked toward him in the empty kitchen, about to ask what he wanted me to do with them, but he spoke up first, "You can just keep those for now. Give them to Sarah or something next time you see her." He said, nonchalantly.

I nodded, taking a sip of my water. I leaned against the wall as he grabbed a bottle of water for himself. "Rafe?" I ask.

He hums in acknowledgment.

"Thanks again, for everything. It means a lot." I say genuinely, smiling bashfully up at him.

He looks at me, then back at the hall, then back to me and a smirk crosses his face. "No problem, you feeling okay today?"

I shrug, "Not the best, but I expected it."

He nods, stepping closer to me, "You need anything?"

My heart beat picks up a little bit but I shake my head and try not to show how our close proximity is affecting me, "All good, thanks."

He nods, extending a hand to the sleeve of his sweater on my body, “This fits you well,” he says, his fingers playing with the fabric.

I blush, looking down at his hand, “It’s nice.”

He takes a step closer, about to speak again when Topper calls out, “You ready?”

I take a step back from Rafe, causing him to drop his hand, “Yep! Coming!” I call back, turning to leave the kitchen.

Before I exit the the room, I give Rafe a small smile, which he returns.

This is the Rafe Cameron I know. Not the one everyone always tells me about. Not the one they’ve made up those horrible rumors about. This right here is my version of Rafe.

The ride home with Topper is silent. We’re both terribly hungover and we only speak briefly about stopping for breakfast.

When we arrive back at my house I immediately go to my room to get cleaned up. I still felt disgusting from the night before.

After showering, drying my hair, and putting on a change of clothes I text Kie to see what everybody is doing today.

I go downstairs to the kitchen to find Topper cooking lunch. The smell makes me queasy, so I opt for some crackers from the pantry. I take a seat at the kitchen island in front of him and find myself looking up this Megan girl on Instagram again.

“Where are mom and dad?” I ask after a while, looking up from my phone.

He stirs the pot on the stove and replies, “I think they had some golf tournament at the club today.”

I nod, of course they do. To my benefit, this means they will probably be there most of the day. This means I can enjoy my day with my friends without their permission or their judgment.

With excellent timing, Kie texts back:

Me JJ and Pope are hanging at the Wreck if u wanna come

I smile, standing up from my place and leaving the kitchen to get my purse.

“I’m going out!” I call to Topper when I reach the bottom of the stairs, where my bag is hanging.

“Where?” He asks.

“The Wreck,” I respond, walking back to the kitchen and giving him the most innocent smile I could, “Don’t tell mom and dad?”

He shakes his head, scoffing, “They don’t want you hanging out with them for a reason, you know.”

I purse my lips, looking away, “If you don’t tell them I went, I won’t tell them how drunk you were last night.” I propose, sticking out my hand for him to shake.

He shakes his head again, rolling his eyes but extending his hand to shake mine, “Fine. But be home before dinner. We’re meeting them at the club when they’re done golfing.”

“Deal!” I say, walking away and heading out the door.

When I arrive at the Wreck, Kie and Pope are both helping Kie’s parents bring out food and JJ is lounging at a table with his feet up. I walk up behind the counter and greet everyone, immediately grabbing a tray from Kie.

“Ah, Y/N! So good to see you!” Mrs. Carrera says to me, giving me a side hug.

“Good to see you too!” I say, handing out drinks to the people at the counter.

“Tell your parents we say hello.” Mr. Carrera says, patting my back as he walks past.

I nod, turning to JJ who was watching the scene in front of him.

“Hey blondie!” I say, getting his attention. “The sooner you help, the sooner we all get to hangout. Get to work.”

JJ scrambles out of his chair and heads toward me, hand now above his brow at attention. “Yes ma’am!”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Kie rolls her eyes, handing JJ an apron.

We work for about an hour before the lunch rush dies down. Kie’s parents kindly made us meals to repay us for our service. I finally was able to eat without feeling like I was going to spill my guts again.

We all sat around a table in the corner, finally getting to relax.

“So Y/N,” Kie said, looking with disgust at the boys shoving their food down their throats, “What happened last night? Sarah said Rafe came to pick you up?”

I nodded, looking away, remembering all of the previous evening, “Yeah, Top gets weird about me staying at guys houses so…” I lied, not wanting to say that he actually looks down on all of them- even though they already knew that part.

Kie nodded skeptically. I knew she knew the truth, but she also knew how much I hate hurting their feelings over the way my family perceived them.

She brushed it off, continuing the conversation, “So you had to ride back? With Rafe? I bet that was a nightmare.”

I held back a smile, looking down before replying, “It honestly wasn’t that bad. I ended up getting sick last night and he was really sweet about it-“

Our attention was diverted from the conversation as Pope started choking on his sandwich. JJ patted him on the back until he stopped coughing, finally reaching to take a drink of water and croaking, “We’re talking about Rafe Cameron, right?”

I nod, looking at my friends shocked expressions.

JJ decides to speak up after nobody else does, “Rafe Cameron, and sweet, don’t go together. They just don’t.”

I looked around, all of them nodding in confirmation.

“I tell you guys all the time, he’s not as bad as you think.” I say, not sure if I’m convincing them or myself.

Kie shakes her head, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows, “Y/N. Not as bad as we think? You know everything he’s done.”

I shrug, “Maybe it’s more rumors than you think. That’s all I have to say.”

They all share a look that tells me they don’t agree with me, but let it go anyways.

“Okay since you want to call him sweet, what could Rafe Cameron possibly have done that deserves that?” JJ says, seeming clearly annoyed.

I look around, deciding whether I want to share this with them. They will probably just judge me now, or think I’m turning full kook. I decide to only share some of the details.

I pause for a moment, intertwining my hands in front of me before finally speaking, “He brought me a water…”

JJ laughs out loud immediately, and Pope snickers, but Kie looks at me to continue.

“A water?” JJ practically shouts. “Anyone could bring you a water. That’s nothing. What else you got?” He asked, but it really sounded more like a challenge.

It really wasn’t my place to be defending Rafe to any of my friends. Heck, I had barely talked to him in years. But the little girl inside me who was his best friend felt like I owed it to myself- my younger self- to not let them speak badly about my old best friend.

“He tied my hair back for me and sat with me in the bathroom.” I said slowly, scanning their faces, gauging their reactions.

Pope’s mouth immediately fell open. JJ rolled his eyes, digging his knife into the table, and Kie raised her eyebrows like she was impressed.

“Wow,” Kie said, nodding slightly, “If it wasn’t Rafe we’re talking about that actually would be kinda sweet.”

I roll my eyes, holding my hands up in surrender. “Whatever.” I say, “You guys are right. I’m wrong.”

We hangout there for a while, just talking and making plans for the week when Sarah and John B show up. They pull up two chairs, sitting at the table with us and joining into our conversation.

Sarah stops listening, looking down at her phone with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N,” she says, turning her phone around to show me, “My dad just got back and ran into your parents at the club.” On her phone was a selfie of my parents, her dad, and Rose. “Aren’t they cute?” She smiles.

“Adorable.” I smile brightly back at her, before checking my own phone and seeing the time.

“Shit!”

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

I scramble out of my seat, grabbing my purse and flattening out my hair. “Do I look like I’ve just been working in a kitchen?” I ask.

“Yeah… kind of.. why?” Kie asks, now everyone’s eyes on my frantic behavior.

“Oh, I just told Topper I’d be there to meet him and my parents for dinner.” I say, smoothing down my tank top the best I could. “Does anyone have perfume?” I ask, looking at Sarah and Kie.

They both shake their heads. Great. I apologize to everyone and say my goodbyes before rushing to my car, throwing on a spare pair of heels from the back and hurrying off to the club.

When I get there, I scramble as quickly as possible to find my family, accidentally crashing into someone on my way there, while adjusting my heel.

“Woah!” They say, grabbing my arms to steady us both.

“I’m sorry,” I say, not making eye contact in my rush to find my parents.

Once the hands don’t leave my arms I think ‘who does this guy think he is?’ and then I look up at him.

“You good?” Rafe asks, trying to catch my eyes, hands still gripping my arms.

I meet his gaze, nodding and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I was supposed to meet my family here but I’m late so I was just trying to find them before I get in too much trouble.”

His mouth quirks into a slight grin, nodding and saying, “Come on.”

He takes my arm, leading me through the club. We stop and say our courteous hello’s to a few people, and then eventually find a large table that both of our families were sitting at.

My parents look me over disapprovingly, as if they know exactly where I’d come from. I greeted them, walking around to take my seat- trying to cause less of a scene than I knew I would. Rafe pulled out my chair next to Topper’s and then took his seat next to mine.

“Y/N!” Ward said, standing to give me a side hug.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron,” I smiled at him warmly, taking my seat, “Great to see you.”

He nods, “You as well. Have you perhaps seen my daughter today?” He asks.

I nod, glancing uncomfortably between him and Topper before saying, “Yes, she was just at the Wreck with me and John B.”

His face falls and he shakes his head, “Ah.”

My parents both pursed their lips with embarrassment, shaking their heads at me.

Rafe leaned close to my ear, teasing, “Is that why you smell?”

I feigned offense, pushing his shoulder and letting my jaw drop. He smiles, shaking his head and looking down.

I didn’t miss the heavy eyes that I felt from Ward observing this interaction. I glanced up, meeting his eyes and I swore I could see the hint of a gentle look on his face for about half a second before he looked away.

I looked down at my lap, listening as the adults began to converse about the upcoming party that the club was hosting as a fundraiser.

I stopped listening early into the conversation. I leaned over to Topper, making sure everyone was preoccupied before whispering, “You didn’t tell them, right?”

He turned to me, eyebrows raised in ignorance, “Tell them what? That you were with the pogues last night and today?”

My eyes widened, as I looked around the table- making sure no one else heard, “Yeah, that.”

He shrugged, a cocky look on his face, “You said you’d be here, you were thirty minutes late. I couldn’t lie to them.”

“Topper!” I whisper-yelled, “What does that have to do with last night?”

He shrugged again, “Just thought they should know if their daughter is making our family look bad, that’s all.”

I stared at him for a long time before turning away. I couldn’t believe him. My parents are going to lose it. I’ll be grounded for at least a week. This isn’t the first time this has happened.

I take a deep breath, my fingers tapping on my legs under the table as I try to calm myself down. It doesn’t work. I closed my eyes for a second when I felt breath on my neck.

“You wanna get some air?” Rafe asks, in a low voice.

I lock eyes with him, nodding immediately.

(pt. 4 in progress)

#outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe obx #drew starkey #outer banks #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron masterlist #rafe cameron smut

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msmorningstaarr · 21 days ago

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guy next door | joel miller x oc (angie reed) | chapter I

ao3 | masterlist

summary: During the summer of 2003, Angie had recently moved into her parent’s new home in Austin at their guest house to have a fresh start after a nasty break up with her fiancé. Her new neighbor, Joel Miller, is more than happy to make her feel welcome to the neighborhood. pairing: joel miller x female oc (angie reed) tags: fluff, long fic, romance, slight angst eventually, oc has no physical description, oc is early 20s joel is late 20s, eventual smut, slow burn, mentions of infidelity, no outbreak au!, 2003 au!, soft joel, good daddy joel, sarah going into her teenage dirtbag phase, trust issues, domestic fluff, protective joel, eventual sex, w.c: 5.6k a.n.: so i’ve post it before but somethings were really shitty and i figured i needed to change somethings in my writing. i really hope you guys like it as much as i liked writing it. likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory but very appreciated! 💖

“Shit…” Sarah stared at herself in the mirror, eyes wide with shock. It had happened. She bit her lip, trying desperately to think of a plan, but her mind was blank. There, on the back of her white shorts, was a red stain, impossible to ignore, especially as she was getting ready for a neighbor’s pool party. She was alone, with her dad and uncle likely out grabbing beers somewhere before the evening feast they were all supposed to attend. But even if they’d been there, Joel and Tommy would have been of no help in this situation at all.

Sarah sank onto the bathroom floor, clutching her stomach as she started to cry in confusion and a certain desperation. She had no mother to explain exactly what periods were, which pads to wear or simply comfort her in this experience. The cramps twisted hard in her abdomen, and waves of panic surged over her. Glancing back at the mirror, she put her hands over her face, already feeling defeated as she looked for some practical way to cover the growing stain. In a flash of impulse, she grabbed an old sweater from her laundry basket, tying it around her waist.

Peeking out the window, Sarah spotted a young woman across the street, carrying some boxes in front of the guest house inside the property, next to the main house. The woman looked alone and with luck, she might be kind enough to help. Sarah took a shaky breath and headed out, trying to stomp confidently but having her body allowing her no more than a slow walk outside of the house, while the girl carried the last box upstairs to her home, closing the door without seeing Sarah.

Across the street, Angie wiped the sweat from her forehead, her messy bun barely containing her damp hair as she moved the last of the boxes inside. Her parents had bought this property in Austin to be closer to her during a rough patch and to settle into a quieter life in the suburbs. Today’s scorching Texas heat seemed almost punishing, making her feel as if this exhausting day would never end. Inside, hills of boxes and scattered bubble wrap covered every corner of her new home. All she wanted was a cold shower before unwinding and unpacking in peace.

This move to Austin was supposed to be a fresh start. Angie’s engagement had ended bitterly, shattering her dreams of a future with Trey. She’d pictured marriage, a family, a life together — until he drifted away, leaving her for someone else under the cheap excuse he had to focus on his engineering career. Her parents had been nothing but supportive, and when she finally agreed to their plan to move closer, they wasted no time making it happen, but still threw some words along the line of ‘he’ll fall in line soon and will ask you back’, Angie, however, seemed determined to let Trey go once and for all. Now, standing amid all these boxes, Angie reminded herself that maybe, just maybe, this change would be good.

She let the cool water from the shower wash over her, sighing as the day’s stress melted away. The sweat and grime were replaced with the soft, clean scent of soap. She was drying off and feeling lighter when a sudden, persistent knock sounded at her door. Wrapping herself in a towel, she walked to the door, slightly annoyed.

“Mom, I said I don’t–” she began, opening the door, but paused when she saw a young girl standing there. The girl’s face was flushed, her fingers fidgeting nervously over her belly. She looked no older than thirteen. Angie raised her eyebrows, slightly concerned.

“Oh, hi sweetie,” she said gently, leaning against the doorframe.

“H-hi… I’m Sarah,” the girl stammered as she looked down, clearly embarrassed.

“How can I help you, kiddo?” Angie asked, folding her arms, her voice softening.

“I… I’m having… issues,” Sarah muttered, glancing down, her dark skinned cheeks turning pink. Angie paused, sensing what the problem might be but waiting for Sarah to say it herself.

“Issues?” Angie asked, tilting her head with a gentle smile.

“Yeah…” Sarah bit her lip, hesitating. “Girl issues?”

“You got your period, huh?” Angie asked, her voice warm with understanding. She smiled and rolled her eyes in sympathy. “Come on in, honey. I’m Angie, by the way.”

Sarah’s face lit up with relief, though her eyes still held a trace of sadness and uncertainty. “Thank you,” she whispered, grateful for the kindness of this stranger who had quickly become her lifeline.

“Don’t mind the mess, ‘just moved in,” Angie walked towards her bedroom as she loudly spoke, finding some tanktop and shorts to wear after showering herself.

“No troubles.” Sarah replied, standing still, once she was scared she would leave some stain in Angie’s couch. As soon as Angie returned, Sarah peeked at the older girl carrying a bag and having a towel wrapped around her head.

“Did your mom ever talk to you about periods?” She asked, placing the pink small bag over the table. Sarah narrowed her eyes, feeling an involuntary urge to cry as she heard the word “mom”. She never gave much thought to her mom or the fact she left her and Joel to live a dutiless life, but this new change in her body brought her new emotions that Sarah couldn’t fathom of where it came from. Her eyes teared up, triggered by that simple sentence and Angie looked at the child, concerned she said something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Oh, honey,” Angie murmured, realizing she had touched a nerve. She placed a comforting hand on Sarah’s shoulder, guiding her to the couch, where they sat together. “I’m so sorry if I said something that hurt you,” she said softly. “Look, why don’t we start by going through a few basics? I brought some things that might help. This little guy,” she said, pointing to a pad. “is going to be your new best friend for a few days each month. It might seem strange at first, but everyone’s been through it. I’ll walk you through how to use it. And, just so you know, cramps and weird feelings can come with the territory, too. That’s what these tablets are for, they’ll help with the stomach aches.”

Sarah’s eyes flickered to the chocolate bar, and Angie chuckled, nudging it towards her. “Chocolate helps too. I promise.”

A faint smile crossed Sarah’s lips, and she reached for the bar, unwrapping it slowly. “Thanks,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“No problem,” Angie replied, her tone light. “Periods can be damn bad, especially the first time. But once you get the hang of it, you’ll see it’s just a part of life.”

Sarah took a deep breath, her gaze focused on the pad as she tried to ignore the ache in her stomach. Angie handed it to her, explaining how it would attach to her underwear, going through the steps carefully but casually to keep things light. Once Sarah seemed to understand, Angie gently squeezed her shoulder. Sarah took a bite of chocolate, letting the sweetness calm her. She looked down at the pads on the table, still feeling a bit lost. “It’s just… I don’t know anything about this stuff,” she admitted, twisting the wrapper nervously. “I didn’t even know it would… hurt like this.”

“Y’know,” Angie added, showing her Texan accent. “it’s perfectly okay to feel whatever you’re feeling right now. Sad, scared, or even mad. ‘S a big change, and it can be a lot to take in. But I promise, it gets easier.”

“Does it? My belly hurts real bad now.” Sarah replied, pouting her lips as she pressed some heat from her hands over her abdomen. Angie laughed faintly and caressed the girl’s long curls.

“It does, sweetie,” Angie said, still patting her hair. “But there’ll be times you’ll be dying for your period to come.”

Sarah looked at Angie puzzled at face and then, Angie realized she was talking to a thirteen year old who had no idea of what she was talking about. “In a few years you’ll understand, kiddo.” She completed, grabbing her chin and Sarah shrugged.

“What about these?” Sarah asked, getting a long tampon in her hands, horrified by its size. “Do you put this like… right there?”

Angie crossed her arms after scratching her eyebrows and smiling briefly amongst the mess in her living room. “Yeah… this one might be too much for you now, kiddo. Let’s keep on the tampons for now, ‘kay?”

“Thanks,” Sarah said, her face relaxing a little. She glanced again at the tampon on the table, her curiosity lingering, but it was comforting to know she didn’t have to figure it all out right away.

“Anytime,” Angie replied, giving her a reassuring smile. “Y’can lay down in my bedroom. ‘S the only place is not full of boxes, I’ll get the heating pad warm for you.”

Meanwhile, Joel and Tommy strolled home beneath the relentless sun, the cold coming from the beer packs offering a welcome chill against their chests. The day was blazing, and they were more than ready to kick back and enjoy the afternoon ahead. “I was talkin’ with Herschel at the liquor store and he talked about this cute lil’ thing living right across the street,” Tommy said, waiting for Joel to open the front door. Joel remained silent, not giving too much thought about it. He had dated a few ladies in the past, but none worked out for him. For now, he was solely focused on raising Sarah.

“Tell me ‘bout that,” he replied, pretending to be interested in his brother’s typical womanizing chatter as he turned the key in the lock.

As they stepped inside, Joel paused, immediately noticing the unusual quiet that filled the house. The TV was off, and there was no trace of Sarah bustling around or playing music like she often did. Joel’s eyes drifted up the stairs, figuring she was probably in her room, getting ready for the neighbor’s pool party. He shrugged it off, glancing at Tommy, who raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“I saw her carrying loads of boxes into that house that belonged to that Thomas family who moved away to Arizona,” Tommy continued, getting into Joel’s home as he opened the door. “Guess that means she’s new to the neighborhood. What an eye-candy, all sweaty, beautiful legs, cute smile.”

Joel shrugged as he dropped his keys onto the table. “New neighbors, huh? That’s nice, I guess.” He walked into the living room, his mind still half-focused on Sarah and her quiet absence.

“C’mon, man! You should at least check her out!” Tommy urged, following Joel into the room. “Could be a good distraction for you.”

Joel shot him a look, half-amused and half-annoyed. “Not interested, Tommy. I’ve got enough on my plate right now.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t hurt to make some friends,” Tommy countered, a smirk spreading across his face. “Especially if they have those pretty legs like the new neighbor.”

Joel shook his head, unable to suppress a smile despite himself. “You’re an asshole.” He couldn’t help but appreciate Tommy’s enthusiasm, even if he had no intention of pursuing anything beyond his responsibilities. “Let’s just focus on getting ready for the party.” He said, trying to redirect the conversation. He called out for Sarah, raising his voice slightly. “Sarah!”

There was no response. He frowned and glanced toward the stairs, hearing only silence echoing back at him. “Hey, Sarah! You up there?” he tried again, a hint of concern creeping into his voice as he made his way toward the stairs.

Tommy followed him, still grinning. “She’s probably just taking her sweet time,” he said, crossing his arms. “You know how girls can be. Maybe she’s trying on every outfit she has.”

Joel roamed the second floor of his house, checking for his daughter. Looked inside his and her bedroom, the bathroom, nothing. A pang of worry fell upon Joel. “Tommy, check if Sarah’s downstairs!” Joel asked, yelling from the second floor as he went down the stairs. Tommy nodded, a hint of seriousness now creeping into his playful demeanor. He sprinted to the bottom of the stairs and looked around the living room. “Sarah! You down here?” he shouted, but only silence responded.

Joel reached the last step, his heart racing a little faster as he glanced around. “Sarah!” he called again, his voice laced with concern. “Where are you?”

He walked into the living room, scanning every corner, and then turned toward the kitchen, thinking she might be grabbing a snack. The kitchen was empty, too. Joel felt a knot tighten in his chest.

“Maybe she’s outside?” Tommy suggested, moving toward the back door. “You know how kids like to hang out in the yard when they think no one’s watching.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Joel replied, trying to push away the worry gnawing at him. As Tommy opened the door and stepped outside, Joel followed close behind. The bright sun hit him, and he squinted, scanning the backyard for any sign of his daughter.

“Sarah!” Tommy called out again, his voice carrying over the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Still no answer. Joel stepped further onto the patio, a sinking feeling settling deeper in his gut.

“Let’s check the front,” Joel suggested, feeling the need to cover all bases. As they moved around the house to the front yard, he felt an unsettling sense of urgency. “If she’s not in the backyard, she could have gone to the Adler’s or something.”

“Sarah!” Joel called out, stepping onto the porch and peering inside. “Are you in there?”

Just as he was about to knock, a voice floated back to him, a familiar voice, but tinged with uncertainty. “I’m here!” Sarah replied, her tone brightening with relief.

Joel exchanged a quick glance with Tommy, both of them relaxing slightly. They saw Sarah coming downstairs from the neighbor’s home with a girl next to her, stepping slowly as she carried a heating pad over her belly. “What’s going on, kiddo?” Joel asked, breathing relieved as he saw his daughter safe and sound, but puzzled as to why his daughter had brought a heating pad on the hottest day of June.

“Uh… hey,” Angie said, extending her hand at Joel, who shook hands with her briefly and mainly focusing on Sarah’s well-being. “My name’s Angie, I’m your new neighbor livin’ ‘cross the street. I’d take it easy on her, uh… she’s gone through a bit too much this last hour.”

“Um… hi Angie, thanks for watching her, I’m Joel.” Joel said, trying to be as polite as possible. “As for you, going out without my permission and disturbing the new neighbors Sarah, c’mon…” he finished, rolling his eyes.

“No, dad, you don’t get it…” Sarah said, trying to reason with Joel.

“Yeah, good luck with that, miss,” Tommy chimed in, his hands shoved into his pockets as he tried to disguise a laugh at the father-daughter exchange.

“She was actually looking for help,” Angie interjected, sensing the tension. “Sarah needed someone to talk to about… well, girl stuff. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Joel raised an eyebrow, momentarily confused. He exchanged a glance with Tommy, who seemed just as puzzled.

Angie approached them, holding out a bag filled with toiletries. “Hate to be the messenger, but your daughter went through, um… the change,” she said, her tone gentle but matter-of-fact.

Joel’s heart sank, and he felt like being hit like a ton of bricks as his cheeks grew red of embarrassment. He looked from Angie to Sarah, who stood there with a mixture of shame and vulnerability. “Oh,” he said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You mean…”

“Yeah, I got my period,” Sarah admitted, her voice annoyed. “I didn’t know what to do, and Angie helped me.”

Tommy, realizing the gravity of the moment, stopped his teasing and looked at Sarah with an unexpected seriousness. “Hey kiddo, don’t feel bad” he said, trying to lighten the mood, but his tone was respectful. “You’re not alone in this.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, annoyance flooding her cheeks as she hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered, wishing she could just disappear.

Joel took a deep breath, processing everything. “I’m glad you had someone to talk to, Sarah,” he said, his protective instincts kicking in. “But you should have come to me. I can help too.”

“No, Dad, you can’t! Ugh!” Sarah exclaimed, exasperation lacing her words. “You don’t understand! It’s just... embarrassing. Ugh! Nobody gets me!”

Angie watched the exchange, sensing the emotional intensity of the moment. She looked at Joel, unsure of how to proceed from there. This was clearly a delicate situation, and she wanted to offer support without overstepping. Tommy, sensing the need for space, quietly stepped back inside the house, leaving Sarah and Joel alone and closed the door behind him, allowing the father and daughter to have their moment without distraction.

“Sarah, honey, I think that you shouldn’ talk to your dad like this.” Angie said, with a soft voice as her heavy southern accent was shown. “I tell you that, go home and rest, take these with you.” Angie completed her sentence, giving Joel the sack of feminine products.

“Go home and rest. Sometimes just lying down for a bit can help. And if you need to talk, ’m right across the street,” she added, her tone reassuring.

Sarah hesitated, glancing at the items in Angie’s hand. “Thanks, I guess. But it’s just… weird.”

Angie chuckled lightly. “‘S part of life sweetie, in time things will settle.”

Joel nodded in agreement. “Angie’s right, kiddo. And I promise, it’s not as scary as it seems. Just remember, it’s a normal part of life.”

“You know nothing, dad,” Sarah hit back, rolling her eyes. Feeling the weight of their words, the girl took a deep breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll take them.” She reached out and accepted the items, a small smile breaking through her earlier frustration. “Thanks, Angie.”

“Anytime, sweet pea,” Angie replied, her voice filled with sincerity. “And if you need anything else, just knock on my door. Seriously.”

With a final glance between them, Sarah felt a little more at ease. “Alright, I’m heading home. I guess I can rest and NO PARTY for us!”

Sarah turned to walk away, speaking in a loud, grumpy and bossy tone. Joel grinned and scratched his eyes before looking at Angie more carefully. The girl was indeed a cute little thing with her hair humid and wavy, her features so delicate and feminine that it became almost impossible to not notice her. Her lips were also perfectly shaped. He couldn’t deny, she really was an eye-candy just like Tommy said, but he was quick to send these thoughts away.

“Uh… I had no chance to say thank you. You’re probably full of stuff to do and-...” Joel said, strangely clumsy around the girl before she interrupted him. Angie, on the other hand, found Joel really attractive with his broad shoulders and messy curls, covered in sweat. However, she was also quick to shoo these thoughts away, once she didn’t want to suffer from another bad relationship. For now, Angie wanted to take care of herself. “How much all the… uh, lady products,” he scoffed, oddly timid. “Costed?”

She chuckled gently, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Hey, don’t worry ‘bout that. I’ve been in her place back in the day, it’s tough. Besides, she’s a peach so don’t worry about a thing ‘kay? Face this as a gift from a new neighbor.”

Joel beamed, proud from the education he gave to his daughter. “Yeah but, uh… will she always be this cranky? She was this sweet little girl just yesterday and now looks like a monster swallowed my daughter.”

Angie raised her eyebrows, laughing. “You’ll learn how to handle it just in time. My old man took a while to get used to it too.”

Joel laughed faintly, ignoring the sun towering them. “Y’know what? Why don’t you join us for dinner? The party I’d go to is ruined now so I have loads of beer untouched. I’m no chef but I could cook somethin’ nice. Just a way to say thank you for taking care of my baby girl.”

“I don’t wanna bother anyone, Joel. Really…” Angie said, with a sincere expression.

“C’mon, I insist. You went out of your way to take care of a kid you barely knew.” Joel beamed, crossing his arms.

Angie sighed and smiled as she scratched her eyebrows, nodding her head reluctantly. “Alright, fine. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Not at all, sweetheart.” Joel said, leaving a thrill down Angie’s spine as soon as he called her by a term of endearment. “See ya.”

“See ya.” Angie said, going back to her house.

—

Angie closed the door behind her, biting her lips as her mind recollected the last moments with Sarah’s dad. He was a nice guy, your regular guy next door: talk, muscular, kind, handsome, charming and seemingly a good father. Joel seemed to be a perfect guy for Angie on paper and she couldn’t deny the instant attraction she felt for him as soon as she laid her eyes on him. Although, at the same time, Angie was still mourning the end of her relationship with Trey and everything he could be with her, it ached her heart knowing he was already engaged to a girl who apparently wanted the same things as him. Angie needed to learn how to be alone and get back on her feet first and then, she would think about dating someone else.

Later that evening, Angie started prepping for the dinner Joel had invited her to. She didn’t want to overdress, but she also didn’t want to show up looking like she hadn’t given it any thought. She opted for a simple, casual dress, something comfortable but flattering. As she checked herself in the mirror one last time, Angie took a deep breath.

As she walked to Joel’s home across the street, she felt a slight shame since she couldn’t prepare any meal for the dinner, since her kitchen wasn’t set up yet. The fresh evening air helped to settle her nerves, though, and by the time she reached his door, she felt more at ease. She rang the bell and a few seconds later, Joel opened the door. His expression softened as he saw her, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Glad you came,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Thanks again for inviting me,” Angie replied, stepping over the threshold. “Sorry for not bringing anything, my kitchen isn’t set up yet.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, sweetie, you’re our guest,” Joel’s place was cozy and welcoming, a blend of his laid-back personality and something subtly protective. The aroma of a home-cooked meal lingered in the air, and Angie felt an unexpected pang of nostalgia for moments like this.

“Oh it smells good for sure,” Angie said, laughing as she walked inside his house. “Your house is beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you darlin’, I made ‘few pieces from the furniture,” he said, placing his hand over the thick wood on the counter.”

Angie widened her eyes, surprised as she looked at the fine wooden mobilia. “How talented. Are you a carpenter?”

“Contractor. Me and my brother, Tommy. The one you saw earlier.” He said, sitting on the couch alongside Angie, who adjusted the skirt of her dress as she sat comfortably on.

“Well, my parents will definitely need your services one of these days,” she said, glancing upstairs with a subtle curiosity for any sign of Sarah.

"Oh, really?" Joel arched a brow in surprise, a soft smile pulling at his lips. "Thinking about renovations already, darlin'?"

"Well, sorta," she chuckled. "They’re letting me stay in the guest house for a while. ‘S temporary, just until they settle into the main place and decide what to do with it. It’s… a nice way for me to get back on my feet too.”

Joel nodded thoughtfully. “That’s great. It’s hard to find good places that feel like home right away, you know? Sounds like they’re lookin’ out for you.”

“Yeah, I think so,” she replied, smiling softly as she glanced around his house again. “Funny enough, this neighborhood already feels a little like home.”

"'S a nice neighborhood to live in," Joel agreed, his voice soft. "Very peaceful, just good folks all around. Just a shame I’ll have to get used to not seeing you here eventually."

Angie’s cheeks flushed, and she felt a flutter in her chest at his words. "Well, thank you, but I wouldn’t worry too much. I’ll stick around a while." She chuckled. "Had to leave my ol’ job in Dalla to make this move.”

Joel’s eyebrows raised in surprise. "Dallas, huh? That’s a big shift."

“Yeah,” she replied with a shrug. "My folks thought it’d be a good time for me to slow down a bit… and I think they’re right. But it’s a whole new chapter."

Joel nodded. "Big change, but you’ll fit in just fine here. And who knows, maybe we can convince you to stay longer than you’re planning." He shot her a warm, playful look, letting the words hang with a hint of invitation. “I know for a fact that Sarah was already talking ‘bout how cool you are.”

Angie laughed, letting the ease of his company make her feel even more at home. "Well, don’t go making offers like that. I just might take you up on it." She met his gaze, feeling a spark pass between them that was both comforting and scary.

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice echoed as she bounded down the stairs, breaking the quiet warmth that had settled between Joel and Angie.

Joel straightened, glancing over at Angie with a quick, sheepish smile before turning to Sarah. "Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hey Angie, you came.” Sarah said, greeting the older girl with a tight embrace, which Angie accepted just fine.

“I see you got better, my dear.” Angie said, releasing the girl from her arms.

Sarah nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m good now,” she said, flashing a shy smile toward Angie. “Thanks for... you know, helping me out.”

Angie smiled warmly. “Anytime, Sarah. You’ve got this.”

“We were just waitin’ for you, baby. Let’s go before the dinner gets cold,” Joel said, guiding the girls towards the kitchen. Angie felt a quiet warmth settle over her as she realized how rare and precious connections like this could be. It was something she hadn't felt in a long time. As the evening wore on, a gentle silence settled between them, one that didn’t feel the least bit awkward or demanding.

“So, Angie,” Joel began after swallowing a bite of his steak. “You were tellin’ me you had to find a new job in the city. What d’you work with, darlin’?”

“I’m a hairdresser.” Angie replied as she had a sip of her beer, watching Sarah’s eyes widening as she spoke.

“That’s so cool! You could do my hair like Janet Jackson’s sometime!” The girl said, excitedly.

“Kiddo, let’s not abuse from the good will of Angie,” Joel scratched his beard, slightly shy for her behavior. Either way, he had to admit it was cute to see his girl so excited over someone, he figured that Angie could be a good influence on her just for the short amount of time they spent together.

"Relax, we can arrange that, honey," Angie reassured, giving Sarah a warm smile. "But, between us? I think your natural curls are way prettier. Had a friend in beauty school, she had these beautiful curls, all big and curly like yours," Angie said, eating a piece of vegetable quickly. “She taught me ‘few things. I can show you how to make your hair even prettier.”

“Thanks, Angie,” Sarah replied, with a soft smile.

Joel nodded, watching Sarah’s confidence grow under their attention. "Don’t you have a friend whose mom works at that hair salon downtown, darlin’?” he asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Sarah nodded as she took a sip of her juice. “Yeah, Ellie’s mom,” she replied, glancing up curiously.

Joel raised an eyebrow, casting a quick look at Angie. “Well, maybe next time you’re over there, you can mention Angie to her mom. She’s lookin’ for a job.”

Angie’s eyes widened, her surprise quickly melting into a smile. “Oh, Joel, you don’t have to do that,” she said, though she was clearly touched by his thoughtfulness.

"Sure I do,” he replied warmly. "Good folks ought to help each other out. Besides, Sarah’s got the inside track on the best stylist in town now.”

Sarah grinned, clearly pleased to be involved in a conversation that felt almost grown-up, as though she were part of some small conspiracy between them. She looked from Joel to Angie, excitement dancing in her eyes. “I can do that!”

Angie laughed softly. "Guess I better thank you both then,” she said, her gaze meeting Joel’s with appreciation.

Joel shrugged, his voice warm. “Like I said, just lookin' out for good people.” Angie smiled tenderly at Joel, nodding at him in a silent gratefulness.

As the evening went on, laughter and conversation flowed easily, but eventually a comfortable silence settled around them, a stillness that didn’t need to be filled. They shared small smiles across the table, each appreciating the peace that came with the evening. Sarah eventually fell asleep as they watched a random movie on the TV. Joel glanced at Angie, his gaze steady and kind, as though he, too, was almost surrendering himself to sleep.

“Oh, guess someone fell asleep,” Angie murmured with a soft smile as she noticed Sarah’s eyelids drooping. Joel smiled silently, reaching to lift his daughter in his arms.

“She’s always like that,” he whispered, his voice warm as he carried Sarah upstairs, cradling her gently. Angie followed quietly, watching as Joel carefully tucked Sarah into bed, smoothing the duvet around her with a tenderness that softened his rough edges. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before turning back to Angie, who stood by the doorway, watching the scene with a softened gaze.

Once they stepped into the hallway, Angie took a breath, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Well… I guess I should get going,” she said, gathering her things with a polite smile.

But as she stood there, a small pang of sadness flickered in her chest, remembering memories of promises that once meant the world to her. Trey had once promised he’d be there to tuck their future kids into bed every night, and for a moment, Angie felt the ache of his absence more sharply than usual. She missed the life she had once imagined, even if she couldn’t quite say it out loud.

Joel’s voice broke her reverie, low and inviting. “You should stay. Have a beer with me,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on hers as he gently closed Sarah’s bedroom door behind him.

Angie smiled, her heart lifting despite herself. “Thank you, Joel. But maybe we could both use a good rest tonight,” she replied softly, her southern accent wrapping around the words in a way that felt warm, even comforting.

Joel tilted his head, his own accent thickening as he spoke. “Fair enough,” he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. “Feels like we’ve known each other longer than just a day,” he said softly, a faint smile touching his lips.

Angie met his gaze, her own smile forming. “Yeah, it does. Funny how that happens sometimes, isn’t it?”

Joel nodded, his eyes warm. “Guess it’s not every day you find someone who just… fits.” He looked down, almost shy, before adding, “Or who’s willing to help out a clueless dad in the middle of all this.”

Angie laughed softly. “You’re not clueless at all, Joel. And besides, I don’t mind bein’ around to help, if you’ll let me.”

Joel’s smile deepened, a look of quiet gratitude passing over his face. “I’d like that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Angie’s gaze lingered on Joel, her heart fluttering with an unexpected warmth. Just one day into her new life in the suburbs of Austin, and here she was, falling for a man’s charm with the same ease that had always led her to trouble. She felt like that naive girl once more, melting under his sweet talk, the magnetic pull between them undeniable yet unsettling. But she shook her head slightly, a small frown creasing her brow. Angie knew she had to exercise some discipline in her thoughts, because she knew well that right there, she was being the same needy girl that she was trying to leave behind. It was easy to get swept up in the moment, but she couldn’t forget the reasons she had moved away from Dallas. This new beginning was about rebuilding herself away from her past and the disappointment of Trey.

“I should probably get going,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction as they stood by the door. “You know, get some rest and all.”

Joel nodded, a hint of reluctance in his expression. “Sure, but you’re welcome here anytime. I mean it. Sarah could use a friend like you, and so could I.” His sincerity made her heart ache with possibility. ‘Friendship, Angie. That’s all he wants from you.’, that’s what Angie tried to repeat in her mind like a mantra.

Angie took a deep breath, grounding herself. “G’night, Joel.” She said, walking away from the Miller’s door, walking towards hers across the street.

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