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juyeonszn · 10 months

Text

NECTAR

PAIRING kim sunwoo x f!reader

WORD COUNT 7.14k

GENRES smut ﹒ fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, umm age gap!! reader is like 10 or so years older than sunwoo (it’s never really specified what her exact age is), reader is also eric’s older sister, there’s a bit of spanish thrown in here lol they’re in mexico for vacation what did u expect, sun eric and hak are professional baseball players, there’s a scene where a waitress is kinda icky to reader bc she’s older, i think mentions of alcohol, sunwoo is down BAD down bad to the point of no return it’s crazy, he’s also a horny impatient little shit, soft dom!sunwoo ig idk, oral (m! & f! receiving), face fucking, handjob ish, a little bit of hair pulling, vaginal fingering, So Much Praise, UNPROTECTED SEX pls be safe!!, edging, delayed orgasm kinda, missionary position, creampie, aftercare :P, the last scene is so cute and disgusting i hate couples

SUMMARY despite being nearly a decade older than him, sunwoo’s always had his eyes on you. so when your younger brother invites you to join them on vacation, you fall right into his trap. you can’t really blame him for finally taking the bait after all these years.

MORE woah hey again 😋 this one isn’t as wild as the hyunjae fic, but it has its moments LOLL if u ever read my warnings about this when it was on my wip list, then u know that this was actually an old fic back from when i wrote for anime 😭 i changed a lot tbh but a good chunk of the original plot is still there 👍 i got inspo for the last scene from a tumblr quote my irl posted on instagram isn’t that crazy anyway….. enjoy!!

PLAYLIST nectar — wayv, tangerine love (favorite) — nct dream, delicious — the boyz, passion fruit — the boyz, horizon — jaehyun, moonlight sunrise — twice

When you agreed to go with your younger brother on a vacation in Mexico for a week with his friends, you weren’t sure what you were expecting.

You knew your brother’s friends well. They'd gone to high school together and after partly going their separate ways following graduation, decided to go on yearly trips to make up for any lost time. This year, the destinations were the gorgeous beaches of Mexico. Cozumel, Cancun, you name it. You were hitting all the spots.

Those were the luxuries of being the older sister of a professional baseball player.

From the start of your getaway, every single one of your movements felt like they were being watched. Your skin burned with the heat of mocha brown eyes staring at you. Half of you wanted to point it out to Eric, but figured you’d save yourself from the drama. Besides, you were a big girl and two could play at that game.

The first instance took place before you even left for the trip.

You lived about an hour away from Eric and since you were all taking the same flight, you thought it would be more convenient to just ride to the airport together. And because he was closer to the airport, he offered for you to stay at his and Sunwoo’s apartment. Haknyeon would be meeting you there due to prior engagements with his own team.

When you arrived at your brother’s place, you immediately regretted it. You hadn’t called before going over and Eric happened to be out, leaving you alone with Sunwoo. There was nothing wrong with him, you just hadn’t seen him in a couple years and you were afraid of it being awkward.

The younger male helped you bring your things inside, huffing when he dropped your suitcases in the guest bedroom. He wipes away imaginary sweat from his forehead, blowing out a raspberry as he turns to face you.

“Did you pack bricks in there? Why the fuck was that so heavy?”

You laugh. Sunwoo had always been quite the clown as long as you’d known him. “I’m a girl, what did you expect? We never pack lightly.”

“You can say that again,” he snorts, twisting his torso to pop his back. “Uh, are you hungry? We have some leftover takeout in the fridge ‘cause you know damn well neither of us know how to cook.”

Before you can respond, you’re distracted by the sight of him raising his arms to stretch, his t-shirt riding up to show a sliver of his abdomen. From the way his slender fingers lock above his head to the taut skin peeking behind the fabric, you’re entranced. Your brain finally comprehends the fact that Kim Sunwoo was no longer a teenage boy, but rather a grown man.

He clears his throat, breaking your trance and forcing you to stop staring. Your cheeks flush slightly as you attempt to hide the embarrassment flooding your features. His lips are pulled into a smug grin, making you aware that he caught you. He doesn’t say anything though, keeping the cocky smirk as he leaves the room. (Presumably to go to the kitchen.)

With hefty feet, you drag yourself to follow. He’s already warming up the leftovers for you as you take a seat at the island barstool, resting your chin on your palm and your elbows on the counter. Your moment from a few minutes ago is long forgotten as you become transfixed by him on the other side of the island.

It’s weird for you to think about how much Eric has matured, coming from an older sister’s point of view. But having that same realization for Sunwoo is a completely different can of worms. You watch as he extracts the container out of the microwave and opens a drawer beside him to grab a pair of chopsticks simultaneously, all without skipping a beat.

He spins on his heels to place the food in front of you, pausing when he notices that you’re staring at him again. The glint in your eyes was more wholesome than before and it made his heart stutter in his chest. He slides the container across the surface of the island, leaning closer to you.

It was almost like your gaze trapped him in a spell, taking over his actions and drawing him towards you like a magnet. He’s never wanted you as much as he did right now, seeing you in his home, sitting on the stool in his kitchen. Your eyes widen when you’ve snapped back to reality.

Before he can do anything, the sound of the front door unlocking stops him and he’s stepping away to tidy up his mess as if nothing happened. Eric comes in to greet you happily and life continues on just as it had prior to Sunwoo leaning into your personal space. He acts like it never occurred, laughing along at a stupid joke your brother made.

And for some reason, you thought he would keep pretending nothing happened. What a rude awakening you were in for.

It’s a couple days into your trip and you were sitting on a lounge chair poolside, while Eric and Haknyeon had gone to get drinks. Sunwoo placed himself in the seat next to you, his sculpted chest and torso gleaming in all their tanned glory.

He knew it was wrong of him to pine after his best friend’s sister, but how could he not? There was something about your maturity that drove him crazy. But even if you ignored that, anyone who could see would find you stunningly gorgeous. The sight of you scantily clad in a bikini was enough to make the strongest men weak.

Perhaps it was also the thrill that you were nearly a decade older than him.

At this point, you weren’t sure if the warmth engulfing your body was from the sun or the brunette’s intense gaze, but you want to push your luck, the incident at the apartment still fresh on your mind.

“Sunwoo? Do you mind putting some sunscreen on my back for me?” You ask innocently, grasping the base of the tube firmly. His tongue darts out and swipes across his lips.

She knows what she’s doing, he thinks to himself.

“Yeah, s’no problem,” he responds cooly, standing from his chair to sit behind you on yours.

You’re borderline on his lap, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. Just to fuck with him some more, you reach behind yourself to untie your swim suit top.

You’ve been on this playing field long enough to know when a man wants you, but you’ve never been an easy target. It was like a game of cat and mouse for you. Right when they think they’ve got you, you always seem to be three steps ahead.

This little chase that you were leading Sunwoo on wasn’t any different.

His fingers dance dangerously low on your back, working the lotion into your skin wonderfully. As you’ve gotten older, your body has undoubtedly changed. The fat of your thighs was far more than it was when you were in your early twenties/late teens. Your stomach was lined with stretch marks, no two the same. But even so, you remained ever confident. You wouldn’t put up with anyone who wouldn’t agree that your so-called ‘imperfections’ were beautiful.

After a few minutes, once the trap had been set, you tied your bathing suit back. The ghost of his skilled fingers lingered as you stood from the lounge chair, spotting your brother and Haknyeon walking back.

The brunette had never been denied before. He got what he wanted without fail, and he’d be damned if this was the one outlier. He’d just have to prove to you that even though he was younger, he was more of a man than any you’d ever been with. And that was a promise.

Later that evening, the four of you had gone to your respective rooms to shower and get ready for dinner. Luckily, Eric had used his brain for something good and reserved separate hotel rooms for each of you. ‘Just in case,’ he’d said.

You did the finishing touches of your makeup and checked your phone, finding a text from your brother.

[8:07] eric: we’re all in the lobby

[8:07] eric: just waiting on u

[8:07] eric: but take ur time dear sister pls don’t rush on our account

[8:08] eric: it’s not like we have an uber waiting for us or anything

[8:08] eric: note the sarcasm btw

You roll your eyes as you grab your purse, tossing the device inside. Who was he to talk about how long it took you to get ready? You were in your thirties and you were not about to be bossed around by your little brother. Back when he was still in high school, you were the one telling him to speed up his morning process.

Your dad had gotten a job halfway across the country right before his second year and it crushed him. You remember how upset he was when they broke the news, the thought of packing up his entire life and leaving all of his friends stung. So instead, you got a well paying job and bought a two bedroom apartment for the both of you, that way he could stay and finish out the rest of high school. You made some sacrifices, sure, but you were practically done experimenting in your life. You were in your late twenties by this point, what more was there to do? You’d already graduated from university so helping out your brother was doing everyone a favor.

After living together for nearly three years, you and Eric had grown a lot closer. With such an age difference, it’d been difficult to relate to one another and bond over certain things. When he’d discovered a new phase to go through, you had moved past it years prior. You were always just out of reach from each other until then. It was like the universe itself was trying to bring you together.

Even now, both of you much older, he still calls and asks to come over to your place so he can hang out. You meant just as much to him as he did to you.

The elevator dings, opening so you can stroll towards the group of young men waiting for you. Right when they caught sight of you, you started making your way to the Uber parked under the carport outside of the hotel.

The drive to the restaurant was silent, but you could feel an intense gaze on your form. Purposefully, you’d worn your most revealing outfit. A nice tight dress to hug your matured body and some skinny heels to elongate your legs. You were thankful that your brother wasn’t the type to be overly protective, well aware that his older sister could carry her own by now. However, you think even Haknyeon had started to pick up on your actions and the unspoken tension between you and Sunwoo.

You arrived at your location for the evening, stepping out of the car gracefully. You received multiple stares from other patrons and even a few employees. You weren’t sure if it was because you were just that drop dead gorgeous, or if it was another reason entirely. Maybe they were wondering what three men who looked as young as they did, were doing with an older woman such as yourself.

You don’t have to dwell on it for too long, a host showing the four of you to a booth almost immediately. Shout out to Eric and Sunwoo for having connections.

The seating arrangement ends up with you and Sunwoo on one side, Haknyeon and Eric on the other. You had a feeling this was not a good idea. They’d dropped you right where he wanted.

When the waitress comes to take your drink order, you feel the toasty warmth of a hand on your thigh, nearly tripping you up as you point out a margarita on the rocks from the menu. After she jots everything down, she taps her pen against the tablet. She then gestures between your party.

“Are any of you dating?” she asks curiously, eyeing you with a quirk to her brow. To anyone else, it’s a normal question. Eric, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo were indeed good looking guys. (One of them was your brother, of course he was attractive— where do you think he got it from?) But you could see right through her fake act. She had to have recognized the three baseball players.

“Haha, no actually. She’s my sister.” Eric chuckles, pointing at you with his thumb. She narrows her eyes momentarily before covering it up with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Ah, tú hermana.” She tries to laugh off, but when the boys furrow their eyebrows, she realizes it fell upon deaf ears. You fight the urge to burst into laughter at how stupid they were.

“She said ‘your sister’ in Spanish. Idiots, I swear.” You explain to the still confused table. They let out a chorus of ‘ohhhh’s in response. Learning Spanish was something you’re glad you did, seeing as you sometimes needed to translate during your trip. You would definitely hold it over them when you got back.

The waitress seems to notice how close you and Sunwoo are sitting, but doesn’t call you out on it. While the other two are oblivious to her fixation, the brunette catches on quickly, squeezing the inside of your thigh as she continues her silly little version of twenty questions.

“Cuantos años tienes?” She asks you personally, realizing that you can understand her. What ever happened to girls supporting girls?

“How old are you?”

“En mis treinta.” You answer without hesitation, not exactly telling her for the sake of your own satisfaction. The press of Sunwoo’s fingers trails upward, causing you to shift uncomfortably.

“In my thirties.”

You can sense that she wants to say something snarky to you, her opposition to your age clear as glass, but she chooses not to. Whether that’s because she wants to seem like a good person in front of the boys or otherwise, you couldn’t care less. As long as you hadn’t been disrespected. And you knew if you were, Eric and the guys would jump to defend you with all their beings.

After what feels like a millennium, she finally leaves you alone, even going to the extent of switching tables with another waitress. Was that even allowed? You’re not entirely sure, but at least you didn’t have to deal with someone rude.

The majority of the dinner goes smoothly, the drinks and the food tasting unlike anything you’d ever had. Haknyeon couldn’t stop raving about the different flavors he was experiencing. At some point you think he told the waitress to send his thanks to the chef, in true Haknyeon fashion. That was the majority. The rest of the dinner was spent in absolute agony.

A certain baseball player couldn’t keep his hands to himself, eating with one and teasing you with the other. How no one paid any attention to what was happening right in front of them was beyond you. You’d even accidentally whimpered, covering it up by pretending the food was just that good.

The check couldn’t come fast enough, your body betraying you and anticipating getting back to the hotel. Your brother had different plans, claiming that the night was still young and he wanted to have drinks somewhere else. Your disappointment must’ve been obvious, because Sunwoo comes to your rescue.

“Eric, I think your sister’s ready to hit the hay.” He pats the brunette’s shoulder, one hand on his hip.

“Oh we can head back then—“ You interrupt him.

“No no, it’s fine, Eric, I'll be okay on my own. You guys have fun, don’t let me stop you.” You dismiss him. You could get rid of your problem yourself this way. No one to bother—

“I’ll go with you. Someone’s gotta make sure you get to your room safely, N/N. Besides, I'm beat. The sun’s starting to catch up to me.” Sunwoo grins, ruffling your hair. You glare at him, your irritation coming to light for the first time since you’d landed in the country. You’d done so well at acting like he wasn’t affecting you.

“Alright sick! Thanks, Sunwoo! Hak and I will see you tomorrow I guess,” Eric says. He turns to you, hugging your side. “I'll check to see if you’re still awake later.”

And that was that. You and your brother went your separate ways, ordering two Ubers for the pairs you were in.

It took all of about seconds following the ding of the elevator reaching your floor, for Sunwoo’s lips to meet yours. You jump, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, his large palms supporting you from your ass. It was so attractive that he could hold you like this— showing off the muscles he’s built from all his years of playing baseball, a far cry from that scrawny kid you knew when he was younger

He fumbles with his keycard, waving it frantically in front of the sensor. There’s a flash of green and he pushes the door open wide enough to fit the two of you through its threshold. Never once do your mouths disconnect, kissing each other so feverishly it raises the temperature of the room. He kicks the door closed behind him with his foot, pressing you up against the floor to ceiling mirror-wall beside the bathroom. The heat radiating off of your body fogs up the outline of your figure.

Sunwoo can’t seem to get enough of you, groping and grabbing any part of you that he can. You have to admit, you’ve never felt so needed— so wanted— in your life. In the messiness of teeth clashing and tongues tangling, your desperation begins to run rampant. You whine as he tugs at your bottom lip.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, N/N,” his voice is husky and breathy, his soft pants filling your ears. He pecks your bare shoulder affectionately, cupping your right breast in his hand. “How long I’ve been waiting for you to take me seriously… to let me treat you like a real man should.”

His knee nudges itself between your legs, creating some much appreciated friction momentarily, his erection prominent against your thigh.

“I know that you know what you're doing when you dress like this. All slutty and revealing, showing yourself off to everyone,” his mouth hovers over the skin of your neck, goosebumps littering the surface. “But really, you do it for me, huh? You do it on purpose ‘cause you know how crazy it makes me. You know exactly what I’ve been wanting since we got here. That’s my smart girl.”

You can’t help the small moan that erupts from the back of your throat, his words and the wet feeling of his tongue circling the area he had just been sucking on going straight to the excitement pooling in your belly. He smiles mischievously, thumb running over your clothed nipple.

You’d been so lost in pleasure that you hadn’t even realized he’d moved you to the bed, your back on the fluffy white comforter and your thighs spread apart for him. He takes a hold of the back of his collar and removes his shirt in one swift motion, pushing your dress upward afterwards to assist you in discarding it.

His eyes rake your now half-naked body, the fullness of your tits nearly spilling out from the lacy nude strapless bra you were wearing. He drags a finger along your lace covered slit, his lips curling when he watches you shudder underneath his touch.

“Sunwoo, please…”

You don’t even know what you’re begging for, just that you need it. And you need it badly.

“Please, what?” He tsks, now massaging your inner thighs, working you up just like he wants. You pout, hoping to convey the message without pleading. Embarrassment floods your body when you realize he’s not gonna make it easy for you. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

You shut your eyes, hoping to will away the sheer mortification flushing your entire being. “P-please touch me.”

This fuels his ego even further. As if it could get any bigger.

“Open your pretty eyes, baby,” he coos, leaning forward to kiss you. When you obey his request, he hooks his long fingers into the waistband of your panties. “There we go. See, good girls get what they ask for.”

He slides them off, parting your legs immediately. The cool air makes you flinch. The one article of clothing that kept you unexposed was gone now, along with the confident woman from earlier in the day.

He repeats his actions from minutes ago, his pointer finger collecting your slick as it slides through your folds with ease. The squelching sound it makes is horrifying, your shame settling back into place. He kisses the plane of your stomach gently, murmuring into the skin.

“Do you hear that, sweetheart? Do you hear how excited you are for me? There’s no point in trying to hide it anymore.”

Your eyes widen at his words, opening your mouth to say something in retaliation but he takes this opportunity to bury two fingers inside of you. A gasp leaves your throat consequently, your back arching on instinct. It had been a while since a man had set aside time for foreplay. He truly was making good on his word, treating you like a real man should.

He lowers himself, positioning his face in front of your pussy and darts his tongue across his lips before flattening it against your clit. The sensation makes you shiver, though that reaction is nothing compared to what happens next. He curls his fingers inside of you, brushing that certain spongy spot that drives you insane, then begins alternating between kitten licking and sucking on the engorged skin of your clit.

You cry out, hands flying down to tug at his hair and dig your nails into his scalp. He doesn’t appear to mind at all, more like he enjoys it, reveling in the way you’re losing yourself to him slowly but surely. It's a dream come true for him. He's finally getting the opportunity to completely ruin you after waiting for-what-felt-like-ever. Horny, teenage Sunwoo would be jumping for joy over this.

He remembers the first time he met you. Eric had invited him, Haknyeon, and other members of the team over to your shared apartment for a team bonding during their second year. The only thought in his mind upon seeing you was ‘damn, I love older women.’ You were just so sure of yourself, he couldn’t help the tightness in his pants and the thumping in his chest.

And those feelings never seemed to fade.

In fact, it appeared that they grew with time. He’d dated other girls since then, especially because he was so popular in high school and in university. Yet for some reason he could never quite pinpoint, things never worked out. They just didn’t feel like the one for him, so he’d end the relationship before anyone got hurt more than they had to. Then the yearly trip would happen and Eric would update him on your life and his crush on you would come rushing back to him.

Even when you’d gotten engaged a few years ago, nothing could stop the way his heart beat only for you and you alone. He didn’t really like the dude all that much, but expressed support for you anyway because he wanted you to be happy. After Eric told him that he broke off the engagement to pursue someone else, Sunwoo just about lost it. He wanted to hunt the guy down himself. He couldn’t fathom how one could just throw away the once in a lifetime opportunity of calling you his. You deserved the world and so much more.

Everything resurfaces and it’s evident in the way his fingers dive even deeper inside of you, his appendage lapping mercilessly at your aching clit. You don’t question him even if you wanted to, your entire body feeling like it’s on cloud 9. He takes a break from licking and sucks at the sweet spot harshly, ripping out a prolonged moan from your lips.

Your release is in your field of vision now, so close that you can nearly taste it. You attempt to buck your hips up into his mouth to chase what you’re yearning for. He senses exactly what’s happening, so he slows his assault, much to your aggravation. You can’t even help the pleas that tumble from the back of your throat.

“No no no no, please,” you sit up, your hands still intertwined with his messy brown locks. “Sun, please… why’d you stop?”

His smile is almost conniving, you swear you can see his canines peeking through. He hovers above you, caging you between his torso and the bed. “You've been having all the fun, so now I think it’s time I have some, too.”

You’re about to ask what he means, when he steps back to undo his belt and zipper, pushing down his pants in record speed. Even through the black material of his (expensive looking) briefs, you can tell he’s well endowed. You rub your legs together, still sensitive from being deprived of your orgasm, and your hunger for all of him increases immensely.

“Eager, are we?” He chuckles, switching places with you. He sits at the edge of the bed, his legs open enough for you to fit between them. You bite your bottom lip, gripping each of his muscular thighs. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing to get crushed by them. It sure would be a hell of a way to die.

He leans back onto his palms, bunching up the sheets in his fists. You move forward to press your mouths in a searing kiss, cupping his clothed erection in your hand. He groans as his teeth nearly gnash with yours. You seize the chance to discard his underwear and massage his cock. The warmth and length of it makes your mouth water, almost whimpering at how flushed it is. You can tell that he’s painfully hard in the way he’s extremely responsive to all of your touches. You swipe your thumb over his slit, collecting the pre cum that’s formed there.

After deciding that enough is enough, he parts from you in favor of ordering you to get on your knees. You maintain eye contact as you wrap your lips around him, the nerves you’d been feeling all night finally washing off. Your tongue swirls around the tip a few times before it licks a broad line from the base back up along the underside. You take him down your throat this time, massaging his balls as you do so. Your cheeks hollow out as you bob your head, your hands jerking what you can’t fit.

An erratic knock at the door startles both of you and you’re about to remove yourself from him, but he keeps you there with a large hand, urging you to continue. You listen reluctantly, assuming the person would just go away if you ignored them.

However, the knock comes again moments later. Sunwoo looks down at you. His eyes tell you all you need to know, so you don’t stop.

“Sunwoo! Hey, have you seen my sister? She’s not in her room.”

You practically choke on him at the sound of your brother’s voice, but he still doesn’t let you pause. His attention doesn’t leave you as he replies.

“Uh yeah, she’s borrowing my shower. Hers wasn’t working.” He lies. His eyes bore into yours intensely, the knowledge that he had Eric’s hot older sister right here in front of him on her knees shrouding his mind.

The brunette outside seems to find that answer sufficient enough and doesn’t interrogate further. “Okay, cool. Just tell her to text me when she gets back to her room.”

“You got it.”

His footsteps can be heard padding against the carpet of the hallway as he walks away.

Your nose brushes against the hair at the base of his cock before he cups your cheeks and lifts your mouth off of him. You take in a deep breath, keeping your hands on his dick firmly. As you regain your breathing, you leave kisses all over, starting at the tip and ending down the shaft. You feel him shudder beneath you, a satisfaction coming from knowing that you’re the one who has him so weak.

You had Kim Sunwoo wrapped around your pretty little finger.

Unbeknownst to you, that’d always been the case. Since day one. But it didn’t matter at the moment. All that either of you cared about right now was wrecking each other.

He slides his cock down your throat again, loving the sight of you getting face fucked by him. You moan around him, the vibrations causing him to grasp at your hair tightly, though you don’t mind the sting either.

“You look so gorgeous like this, sweetheart. Your lips look so pretty wrapped around me. Can’t wait until I’m inside you,” he hisses when your tongue runs over his slit. “You want me to fuck you into the mattress? Until you can’t even remember your own name?”

You release him from your lips once more, nodding frantically. It’s almost pathetic how needy you are for him, your brother’s best friend, someone nearly ten years younger than yourself. “Yes, please, Sunwoo. I want you so bad. I want you to fuck me so hard, I can’t walk properly.”

His smirk from your pleads is ungodly. He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, pinching it between his fingers before he pulls you up to kiss you roughly. Even though he has this big dominant act up on display, you know he wants you just as much. And he conveys it in the desperate way he moves his mouth against yours with such fervor.

After a few minutes, both of you get sick of wasting time and he flips you around so you’re on your back. He nips at your neck, whispering dirtily as he pumps himself in his hands.

“The only thing I want on your mind is me, you got that?” He lines his dick up with your hole, nibbling on your earlobe while he does so. “The name Kim Sunwoo is gonna be engraved in your fucking brain after tonight.”

Without any semblance of a warning, he pushes himself in, giving you no time for adjustment. His cock fills you up nicely, better than you’ve ever been before, and the feeling alone rips a particularly loud moan out of you. “Oh my god, Sun. Y-you're so big and your cock f-feels so g-good. So s-so good.”

“You’re so tight, your pussy is squeezing me. You gonna cream on my dick?”

He gives you another one of those sly grins, where it’s almost like he’s baring his canines to you, and you swear you’ve never wanted to be ruined as much as you do now.

His pace is unrelenting, nothing but sheer power going into every thrust of his hips. His cock hits places deep inside that you didn’t know existed. It amazes you how much stamina he has and it doesn’t appear like he’s letting up any time soon.

“Sunwoo, just like that— f-fuck yes— right there,”

“Look at you, Y/N, so fucking messy and all because of me.”

He hooks one of your knees on his shoulder, plunging even further into your pussy. The mewl you release is voluminous, enough to wake up anyone in the rooms surrounding his. One of his hands holds your leg in place while the other travels south, gripping your side and using his thumb to vigorously circle your clit.

The added stimulation is just what you need to nudge you closer to your tipping point, what you were deprived of earlier. He, of course, notices that and stops his attack with his finger. You whine in protest, not wanting to deal with his teasing again right now.

You open your mouth to express your distaste at the same moment he rolls his hips experimentally. So instead of complaining about his edging, you let out a choked groan.

“Sunwoo, please, let me cum. Please, I'm begging. I need to.” You hate that you’re in this position, but you can’t hold out much longer. Fatigue is catching up to you and if you don’t cum soon, you might pass out.

“You wanna cum, baby? You want me to let you cum?” He all but growls in your ear. You moan wantonly in response, quickly becoming a babbling mess. “I think you can wait a bit longer. Take it like a big girl, yeah?”

Your other leg wraps around his waist, allowing his already buried cock to kiss at your cervix. The new angle is unhinged, short circuiting your brain. Discarding any thought behind your actions, moving on autopilot, you pull him down to press your mouths together.

The combination of passion and pure lust drives both of you wild, fueling your desires. His lips part from yours and he moans breathily as you clench down on him, the exhale fanning over the lower part of your face. The sound is unlike anything you’ve heard before and you’d do just about anything to hear it again. The brunette was completely unaware of the effects he had on you, something as simple as a noise kicking you into high gear.

But it seems even he’s reaching his limits, not able to hold himself back anymore. In an attempt to finish you both off quickly, he brutalizes each piston of his pelvis. Your nails sink into his shoulders.

“F-fuck— S-Sunwoo I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum— so fucking—“

His thumb finds its way back to your clit and resumes its previous attack, the other circling around a peaked nipple, cutting you off. You arch into him, trying to bring the two of you impossibly closer. His cock rams in and out of you almost inhumanely at the rate he was going. With one particularly harsh thrust, he commands,

“Cum for me, sweetheart.”

The words send you overboard and you release around him, simultaneously gripping him like a vice and moaning so pornographically, you kind of feel bad for everyone else staying on this floor. Your whole body spasms with your orgasm, hushed moans falling from your swollen lips. Seconds later the twitch of his dick alerts you as he follows, filling you up with the warmth of his own cum. Had he not still been inside you, you were certain it’d flow right out, something akin to Niagara Falls. But you’re both too busy trying to catch your breaths to really pay attention to any of that extra stuff.

The ache was settling in your bones instantaneously, and you half-regretted encouraging him to ‘fuck you so hard you couldn’t walk properly’.

After what feels like an eternity, he slowly pulls out his softening cock, your pussy clenching at nothing and feeling empty as he presses a soft peck on the tip of your nose, his dominant personality dissipating along with it.

The moment feels strangely domestic, his coos of praise and the worry that he was too rough with you not flying over your head. Things like ‘you did so well, sweetheart’, ‘I’m so proud of you, baby’, and ‘your pussy was made for my cock’ floated around the air. He caressed your belly with one hand and your hair with the other before pulling himself away from you fully.

“Let me go get you a towel,” he smiles warmly, disappearing into the bathroom he told your brother you were borrowing. When he comes back, he has a fresh pair of briefs on and a damp washcloth on his forearm. “You know, I‘ve had the biggest crush on you since high school. The moment Eric introduced us, I practically fell in love.”

He carefully cleans up your cum covered thighs, weary of how sensitive you are. It dawns on him that you’re fighting back your sleep, but he also realizes that you can’t stay in his room, running the risk of being compromised and Eric finding out. He helps you into a sitting position and leads you to the bath.

He washes your hair and body for you, increasing the overwhelming amount of domesticity that you already started to feel. Even with his admission, you didn’t want to assume that this was something he really wanted. You’d made that mistake before, with your asshole of an ex fiancé, and you couldn’t stomach the thought of that happening with him. He was a young, hot professional baseball player. Why would he want to be tied down to you?

With a towel wrapped tightly around your body and your clothes draped over a shoulder, he aids you in your sneaky trip to your own hotel room. You fumble a bit with the key card, nervous under his gaze for some reason. When you finally get it open, you hurriedly enter, desperate to get away from him to avoid small talk. You were a grown ass woman and here you were, acting like a petulant child.

He reaches for your wrist and stops you prior to getting too far past the door frame. “Hey, hey, what’s the matter? Why won't you look at me? Did— did I do something wrong?”

“N-no! You didn’t. I just— I don't wanna misinterpret the situation...” You betray yourself and look him in the eyes, nearly melting at the soft chocolate color staring right back. He leans forward to kiss you on the lips. It isn’t rushed or forceful like any of the others from earlier in the night. It’s more like the loving one he placed on your nose. It conveys exactly what he wants to say, but can’t put into words, and rids of your doubts all at once. You instinctively shut your eyes, a smile working its way across your face.

“I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart. Goodnight,” is what he leaves you with, scampering off to his room.

You bring your fingers up to your lips, the stupid grin not disappearing. He wasn’t kidding when he said the name Kim Sunwoo would be engraved in your brain tonight.

The next day, the four of you visit one of the beaches. You chuckle to yourself as you observe Eric and Haknyeon attempting to skimboard, but failing miserably. Your brother flies forward when his board skids to a stop and he stumbles a bit before regaining his bearings. The older laughs at him, hunching over and clutching his stomach as he does so.

Your eyes stay on them for a bit, but your head turns at the sound of footsteps approaching you and the beach towel you were sitting on. You finally glance over when a grunt fills your ears over the crashing waves. Sunwoo leans back onto his palms, sunglasses perched on top of his head. The goods you wanted were set between you, a bag nearly full to the brim with mandarin oranges.

On your way to the beach, you passed a vendor on the street selling different fruits. Among said fruits were the mandarins that caught your attention. You pouted when you realized you left your purse at the hotel, only having your I.D. on you. Being absolutely smitten with you and having no self control, Sunwoo made a promise to himself to come back when you were least expecting to buy you as many as he physically could. (Gift giving was one of his love languages.)

He smiles as your eyes light up like a Christmas tree in August, instinctively reaching for one of the oranges. You bring it up to your nose to smell the faint citrusy scent of the rind, humming contentedly afterwards. With the summer breeze blowing through your hair, the humidity painting your cheeks rosy and the sun behind you giving you a halo-like glow, you look like a scene ripped straight from a movie. Sunwoo feels like the most fortunate guy in the world knowing that he’s the only person who gets to see you like this, committing the visual to memory so he can look back on it whenever he pleases.

He decides that he could die right here right now, and he’d be satisfied with his life. He can already see it, his headstone; Rest in Peace Kim Sunwoo, 2000-2023.

You slowly start to peel the mandarin, each corner of your lips curled upwards. You pop a piece into your mouth, closing your eyes and savoring the taste of its nectar. Without pausing to think about it, you scoot closer to Sunwoo, feeding him some of the orange. A small giggle escapes the back of your throat when he smiles again, this time at how much more comfortable you are with him. (And also how yummy the mandarin is.)

“It almost tastes as sweet as you.”

He meant for it to be an innocent insinuation, but completely forgot about the fact that it could be misconceived as an innuendo. You slap his shoulder with a gasp because that’s exactly how you took it, and he raises his hands in surrender.

“Woah, I was trying to be cute. You’re the one with the dirty mind.”

You roll your eyes, shoving a few more pieces of mandarin into his mouth to shut him up. “Kim Sunwoo, you’re lucky I like you.”

His cheeks are puffed up with the fruit and he tries to smile at you, his pouty lips making him look a little silly. You press a quick kiss to them, forgetting that you were very much in public. He turns to you with eyes like a deer caught in headlights.

“What if Eric sees?” He swallows thickly.

You shake your head. “Let him. I’m happy. That’s all he really cares about.”

It befuddles you that just a week ago, you never would’ve thought this could happen. A week ago, Sunwoo was still that high school boy who stuttered whenever he spoke to you and came over to yours and Eric’s apartment every day after school. A week ago, you were still apprehensive about putting yourself out there, out of fear that you’d just get hurt again. But somehow, Sunwoo managed to change your entire perspective. And sitting here on this beach towel, feeding him mandarins and giggling at his jokes solidifies that for you.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz sunwoo #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz sunwoo #kim sunwoo #kim sunwoo x reader #kim sunwoo smut #sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo smut #juyeonszn

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geminisecrets · 10 months

Text

You First

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! NSFW! Explicit sexual content, coarse language, oral sex, unprotected sex, mild drug and alcohol use, dirty talk idk I think that's it???

Word Count: 4750

Summary: friends with benefits turns complicated when someone's keeping a secret <3

Authors Note: It has been a long time!!! We really are amazed with the writers on here who never lose motivation and always put out the bangers, you guys make it look so easy and that's really cool!! But, alas, we have missed this and are happy to be getting back into the swing of things! We love you guys :')

Y’all are super duper fuckin' rad for telling us what you think about our stuff. ☯️

Requests are open :)

Join our tag list ✨

*disclaimer: apparently the gemini constellation is only seen in Dec/Jan but just pretend you can also see it in July gaslightgaslightgaslightgaskightgaslight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Jake, just tell me!” I laugh as Jake digs his fingers into my side, causing me to squeal louder.

“Some secrets are better kept…secret”, he responds with a grin on his face, finally easing up on me as I push him away. “Trust me.” I sit up straighter on his lumpy, familiar couch, but he doesn’t give me any more personal space. He has a way of doing that. Taking up my space. And I wish I could say it bothered me. “Besides, what if I was the one annoying the fuck out of you until you told me your deepest, darkest secrets?”

“First of all, drama queen, you never said this was a deep or dark secret, second, you know everything about me, I’m sure of it. I’m an open book. A free bird,” I respond enthusiastically, getting up off the couch and spreading my arms out like wings.

“Okay, free bird, you first. Are you going to admit you were faking your orgasm last night?” he asks, slouched into the couch, legs spread and hands folded in his lap. That same miserable grin is back on his face. I feel blood rush to my cheeks, coloring me guilty, immediately.

“Fine,” I shrug, attempting to appear unbothered. “Yes, I did. I was tired and you were taking too long.” His grin widens slightly, but his eyes squint as he reads me. It’s times like these, I wish he didn’t know me as well as he did. I really and truly do wear my heart on my sleeve and my emotions tend to play on my face, like a movie screen. “Your turn,” I shift, crossing my arms over my chest.

Jake stands and closes the gap between us in two long strides. His nose is practically brushing mine, he’s so close before he says, “Nice try,” and walks past me into the kitchen.

“I’ll pry it out of you one way or another”, I say, following him begrudgingly.

Jake and I have known each other for years. He was my first crush in middle school, who turned into my first boyfriend in highschool and after graduation, my biggest heartbreak. We tried the whole dating thing, but it was bad for both of us. Jake is very demanding of time and attention. He’s passionate and jealous and honest. I, on the other hand, have always been more free spirited, tending to go with the flow. We’re completely different. Fire and ice.

I could sit here and tell you all the ins and outs of how he hurt me, how I hurt him, and all of the baggage that comes along with young love, but I’ll spare you the sob story. Just trust me when I tell you that Jake and I don’t do relationships well. Neither of us. I couldn't tell you the last time I had a boyfriend for longer than a month before it crashed and burned. And Jake? Jake’s exact words to me the last time I asked were, “I don't really do girlfriends.”

That hasn’t kept us from ignoring the obvious, though. No, we’re well aware of just how well we do fit together physically. Without saying it in so many words we’d become friends with benefits, fast. When I’m home from school and he’s in town, there aren’t many nights we spend without each other. Jake might be too prideful to admit the same, but I can say, honestly, that he’s by far the best sex I’ve ever had.

“What time is everyone supposed to be here?” I question, as I watch him unload the dishwasher, stacking his coffee cups in the annoyingly particular way he always does.

Jake’s throwing a small party tonight with some of our old mutual friends from home, since most everyone is in town for the fourth of July. The usual suspects will be here, I’m sure of it. We’ll fall back into old habits. Playing stupid drinking games until half of us can’t see straight and have to Uber home with our heads hanging out the window in a desperate attempt to dispel the nausea.

I however, know without a shadow of a doubt, as much as I stand at the mirror and tell myself I won’t, that I will be in Jake’s bed tonight instead of the Uber in question.

As if on cue, the doorbell rings. “Come in!” Jake belts out.

“Long time no see!” Jake’s twin brother, Josh, calls from the front door with a lick of sarcasm under his tongue. He shuffles into the kitchen and unpacks what appears to be half of the entire liquor store onto the counter top.

Followed by Josh are Danny and Sam and their usual posse.They all say their hello’s and waste no time making their way into the kitchen to get the drinks flowing.

An hour later, the house is full and the laughs are loud. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the banter, the blaring music, the escape from reality and the ability this house, this town, has to make us all forget how much distance there really is between the lives we live now and the ones we left behind.

When it’s finally dark enough outside, we gather in the middle of the cul-de-sac and try our best to dodge the sparks flying off the dozens of fireworks Sam and Danny haphazardly detonate. Whoever decided to give control of the explosives to the two drunkest party guests should be criminally charged.

The party quiets down a little bit and migrates to Jake’s backyard. We sit around his dingy homemade fire pit and watch the rest of the fireworks go off all around the neighborhood. The joint being passed around mellows most of us out and we sit there with our heads on the backrest of our camp chairs, tilted to the sky.

“That right there is Gemini,” Sam says, pointing up towards the stars.

“Huh?” I overhear Jake question.

“The Gemini constellation, stupid. The twins?” he scoffs, sounding truly offended, as if this is common knowledge for just anyone.

“You sure you weren't just seeing fireworks?” Jake teases. Sam rolls his eyes into the back of his head and grunts out a rebuttal.

I think in Sam’s past-life he was some kind of hippie astronomer. He knows far too much about the cosmos for someone who decided against post secondary education. However, it’s a helpful tool to gauge just how far-gone Sam is. He always wants to talk about astronomy when he’s had one too many drinks.

The conversation merges into talk of the ‘Good Ol’ Days’ and it’s just a matter of time before–

“Remember when you and Jake tried dating?” Josh yells from the opposite side of the firepit, gesturing to me. There are a few chuckles and eye rolls from the group. Josh loves this story. Loves making me blush and riling his brother up.

I usually ignore it, but it drives Jake insane for some reason. He doesn’t always know how to keep his cool when he is annoyed, especially with his brother. “Is something funny?” he chides.

“Uh oh. Did I poke the bear?” Josh taunts, throwing me a wink.

I am all too familiar with their typical twin banter bullshit, I’ve been around it for years. They like to egg each other on until the other explodes, and if Josh keeps going, he’s going to get exactly what he’s wanting out of Jake.

“Come on, Josh, that topic is so tired, what about your tryst with that one guy…” Danny steps up to save the day and change the conversation as Jake turns to me.

“I’m tired,” he says quietly, yawning widely. Jake has a very small social battery and when he’s done, he’s done.

“Me too,” I breathe, catching his contagious yawn. As we stand to make our way inside, the rest of the party seems to naturally disperse as well. One by one, the party starts to fade out, until there is no one left but Sam.

“I have about $5 in my bank account so uber isn’t an option. Cool if I just crash in the guest room.” Sam says.

“Let me go grab my stuff out of there,” I offer, moving past him to reach for the door handle.

“Oh, shit, sorry I don’t want to put you out if that’s where you were planning on sleeping tonight,” Sam interjects.

“Sam, just go to bed,” Jake orders. I can’t tell if his curt response is due to the fact that I know he’s tired or if he doesn’t want to get into the logistics of exactly where I’d be sleeping instead.

Sam begrudgingly obeys and drags his near lifeless body into the bedroom. I follow him, flicking on the light and collecting my bag off the bed before wishing him goodnight. Before I even have the door completely closed, the light flickers off and we hear a loud thud.

“Jesus, it sounds like he catapulted himself onto the mattress,” Jake huffs out a lazy laugh, wiping away the sleep from his eyes and meanders into the bathroom.

“If I had nine shots of tequila and a rack of beers to myself, I’m sure I'd be doing the same”, I yawn, grabbing my bag and making my way to the living room.

I’ve almost got a little bed completely set up on the couch when Jake snatches the blanket from my hands.

“Come on,” he says, dragging my blanket down the hallway towards his room without muttering another word, let alone giving me half a second to respond. I follow him anyway, stopping in the doorway to watch him shuffle out of his jeans.

“Jake,” I nearly whisper. “If I sleep in here, will you tell me your secret?” I ask as coyly as I can muster at this ungodly hour in the middle of the night. His movements come to a halt when he pulls his shirt over his head, glaring at me.

“I think I’d tell you just about anything to get you to let me sleep,” he groans, but the upward tilt of a smile on his lips reassures you that there’s no real malice behind his words.

I roll my eyes and finally close the door behind me. By the time I take my makeup off and change into a t-shirt, he’s already in bed with the lamp off and the TV on, playing his usual reruns of Shameless. I crawl into bed next to him, and make myself comfortable.

This is…new for us. Sure, I’ve been in bed with Jake before, but not like this. This feels… domestic. Intimate in a way I’m not sure I know how to process. I peer up at Jake, watching him for a few moments as he watches the TV.

“So… this secret…” I coax.

“Hmm,” he barely acknowledges me.

“A deal’s a deal, Kiszka,” I remind him, shifting up on my elbow, my head in my hand, waiting for him to come clean.

“I don’t remember making any deals with you, succubus,” he suppresses a grin as he lazily tosses his arm up and under his pillow, eyes still fixed on the TV.

“I’m in your bed, aren’t I?” I ask, “Now it’s your turn to–”

“I’m pretty sure my exact words were ‘I’d tell you just about anything’. Emphasis on the ‘just about’ part.”

“Are you—”

“You’re gonna have to work a little harder than that,” he breathes out, no longer attempting to hide the smile that’s creeping onto his lips.

I let out a ‘humph’ and fall flat onto my back, arms crossed. I lay there awake for a moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to the ever soothing sounds of Southside Chicago from the TV.

There’s a kind of tension in the room that I don’t think either of us can really place. Sexual tension is not something Jake and I are strangers to. I’ve felt that with him since the day we met. This is not that. This feels tethered to something much deeper.

I think about giving up and calling it a night, but the longer I lay there the harder it is for me to fall asleep. Jake and I don’t do feelings. We’re friends, sure. Friends who have casual sex, but the boundaries we have in place are all unspoken.

I finally work up the courage to break the silence by rustling the sheets as I change positions to lay on my side, facing him. Lazily, he turns his head to look at me. His expression is blank as he waits for me to say something and I become increasingly aware of how close his face is to mine.

“What are you hiding, Jake?” I ask as I intertwine my leg with his under the covers. I feel my breath bounce off of his lips and back on to mine. He scoffs, turning his face back toward the ceiling and pinching the bridge of his nose as if I’m pestering him like a small child.

I maneuver myself even closer to him, my lips latching on to his neck, peppering kisses in a routeless path between his ear lobe and collar bone. I hear him exhale through barely parted lips as he relaxes into my advances.

“Sleepy?” I ask, not-so-subtly propositioning him.

“Not anymore,” he responds, tucking his hair behind his ear and sitting up on his elbows.

I shrug the covers off of myself and maneuver on top of him until I’m straddling his waist. His hands palm my naked thighs as I reach for the hem of his worn t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head.

I let him pull mine off as well and his hands latch on to my breasts almost instantly. Shaking my head, I peel them off of me and place them at his sides, holding them down tightly at the wrist. He gives me a look of confusion and I try and fail to suppress a grin as I lean in to kiss him.

His lips move slowly but persistently against mine and part for me immediately as I lick into his mouth. His tongue slides against my teeth and I take the opportunity to bite down on it gently, causing him to groan into my mouth.

“Jake,” I sigh into his mouth, swiveling my hips against his as I feel him, semi hard between my legs. His hands twitch under my grip.

“Let me touch you,” he breathes, biting down on my lower lip as he pleads.

“No,” I whisper back, kissing him harder as I fall into a rhythm with my hips. Reaching between us, I pull my panties to the side and position myself directly on top of his hard dick, the only thing separating him from my wet core is the thin fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, eyes squeezing shut.

“No, no,” I reach my free hand up to take his jaw in my grip, the other hand still holding his arm down at his side. “Eyes on me.” His eyes meet mine again as my mouth falls open. A silent gasp escapes me as I slide my wet core against the material of his covered cock. I release his wrist and jaw in favor of placing both hands on his bare chest. “Oh my God, Jake,” I whimper, closing my eyes and tossing my head back. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t putting on a bit of a show. “You’re so hard,” I sigh.

“Can I please fuck you?” he asks breathlessly beneath me, hands knotted obediently in the sheets at his side.

“Hmmm,” I consider, “how could I let you fuck me when you’re keeping all these big secrets?” He glares at me before reaching up and taking me by the waist, knocking me on my back until he’s hovering over me.

“You like secrets,” he reminds me, lips at my ear, sucking on my earlobe before licking a stripe down my neck.

“Do I?” I question, letting myself fully melt into the feeling of his lips and tongue and hands on me while he’s not seeing just how much I’m enjoying it.

“Mhm…or did you want Sam to know what we’re up to in here?” He asks, right hand tugging at my nipple while the other still holds me around my waist, trapped between me and the mattress. I roll my eyes, causing him to pinch my nipple tighter. The sound I let out is somewhere between a moan and a yelp and I clamp my hand over my mouth instantly. Jake giggles, letting his head drop to my chest, kissing at the skin he’d just pinched. “See, secrets are fun. Necessary, even.”

He continues kissing down my body until he reaches my underwear. Looking up at me through his eyelashes, he takes the elastic between his teeth and pulls them down as far as he can before finishing the job with his hands.

When I’m bare and naked before him, he parts my legs wide enough for him to settle between them. “How do you want it tonight?” He asks. This is new territory for us. We don’t… take it slow. We don’t ask questions and, in fact, this is only maybe the second time we’ve ever hooked up in an actual bed. Closet, car, tent, couch, sure. The bed feels… intimate. Where we’re usually rushed and frantic, simply trying to get each other off, we’re now slowing down, touching softly and intentionally.

“Uhm,” I start, not sure how exactly to answer the question. Feeling out of control, I panic, sitting up and taking his face in my hands. My lips crash against his and he’s caught off guard as I press him back against the mattress.

“Not what I was thinking, but I’m not complaining,” Jake smirks, relaxing into the mess of bed sheets, his eyes still tracking my every move.

I make my way down the expanse of his chest to his cock, freeing him from those damned briefs. I don’t waste time pressing my lips to his tip, gently sucking. I watch as his breath causes his abdomen to flutter, up and down. Admiring the way his hip bones jut out on especially deep or sharp inhales. The second his hands are in my hair, I slide him down the back of my throat.

His hips immediately buck upwards as he thrusts himself deeper into my mouth, and I hear him mutter out words of admiration and praise.

“Oh fuck”, “deeper”, “slower”, he doesn’t stop. He’s always been vocal during sex and I can’t get enough of it.

I pull him out of my mouth the second I sense he’s enjoying it a bit too much; moving back up towards him. His hands are still in my hair, but move down the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. His tongue meets my lips first and then slides under mine like velvet as he slowly repositions me until my back is pressed into the mattress; him hovering over me.

“How bad do you wanna know?” He breathes, eyes meeting mine before his head dips to press wet, sucking kisses to the curve of my neck. I feel myself losing the control I had over this situation, but I can’t seem to make myself care. He lowers himself onto his elbows so that his body is flush with mine. I can feel him, hard, pressed against me.

“Bad,” I mutter, reaching down between us in an attempt to slide him inside of me.

“Ah-ah,” he shifts his hips back, away from me. “Sounds like you’re gonna have to earn it tonight.”

“Earn it?” I ask, trying to focus as his head slowly snakes down my body until I feel his lips press warm kisses on the inside of my thighs.

“Sh”, he silences me. His two fingers dive into my core, and he scissors them, stretching me the way he knows I like. He takes a moment to pull his hair back into a loose bun and he smiles when I make a crack about things getting serious. His tongue finally licks a stripe up my center, pressing hard and flat against my clit, his fingers simultaneously pumping in and out of me.It doesn’t take long for me to get there. I’m close. So close, already.

I feel my legs tense and clench around the sides of his face and my breathing hitches frantically. He uses it to his advantage, pulling me closer by the hips and nearly suffocating himself with me. His palms press against my stomach, holding me firmly in place while I ride out my orgasm.

When he pulls away, he crawls over me and lays his chest against mine. His lips press against the shell of my ear and I feel his breath echo as I stare at the ceiling and try to gather myself.

“I fucking love the sounds you make when you finish”, he whispers as he huffs out a laugh. He uses a free hand to brush the hair off of my neck, tucking it behind my ear.

“Hmmm,” I smile a hum against his shoulder, “probably almost as much as I love hearing you whimper for me.

He scoffs, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “I do not whimper.”

“Wanna bet?” I ask, pressing against his shoulders, pushing him back against the bed.

“Be gentle with me,” he teases. Teases, because he and I both know he prefers me to be far from gentle.

Without another word, I line myself up over top of him and tease him at my entrance. His hips buck up against me immediately, and there's that little gasp. That throaty, breathy puff of air that pours out from between his lips, reminding me that at the end of the day, he really is putty in my hands.

“This gentle enough?” I ask, peeking down through my lashes at him. “Can I make you feel good, now?” I grind my hips downward, my wetness sliding against the length of him as my mouth opens, jaw falling slack, mimicking his. I nod my head slowly, grinning when I finally hear the faintest whisper of a whimper. There it is.

“So impatient,” I grin, only half joking, but he proves my point when, seconds later, he grabs my hips and slams himself into me. My back arches immediately as I let out a loud moan and I hear him gently mock me. He thrusts into me, taking back all that power I had over him, reminding me this time, that I’d do absolutely anything to keep him exactly where he is, inside me, for as long as possible.

Feeling unsteady at this pace, he’s set, I reach behind me to grab his calves for support, hoisting myself up. I let my head fall back as I feel his cock stretch me better at this angle.

“Oh my God, Jake,” I whine, “I c– I can’t–”

Before I can blink, I’m falling swiftly to the mattress below me. I squeal as he grabs my legs behind the knees and folds them up against my chest. He takes his cock in his hand and circles it around my clit, my body pulsing every time I feel the soft head of his cock pass over that ever sensitive bundle of nerves.

“So pretty,” he breathes out, “all of this for me?” He asks, more of a statement than a question, dipping himself into the pool of wetness at my entrance, causing my breath to hitch as he stretches me slowly. I look up to see him grinning and staring at my face, eager for praise and compliment. So I give him just that.

“All for you,” I respond, completely breathlessly. “You’re so good, so so good, best fuck I’ve ever had,” I gasp as he finally pushes himself all the way inside of me, right to the hilt.

I can feel his cock throbbing inside of me, even with the quick snap of his hips. My head starts to bang against the headboard and I would laugh if I wasn’t fully and completely on another planet.

Thankfully he notices without me even saying a word and drags me further down the bed with just one arm around me.

“Sorry, baby,” he grunts, “lemme make you feel better,” his thumb reaches down to press circles against my clit, and I swear to God I see stars.

“Gonna cum again, for me?” He asks, once again, knowing the answer to his own question as he knows my body better than I know it myself. “Wait for me.”

He leans down, breathing heavily against my chest as his sweat slicked forehead rubs against the beads of sweat on my neck. It’s messy and it’s hot and it’s fast as he presses wet kisses to my skin. Somehow, he maintains the perfect pace and I feel him begin to twitch as he lets out a moan, muttering sweet praises into my ear. “Yes, baby. Good girl. So good for me.”

He continues to fuck into me for a moment longer until he feels me cumming again, pushing himself deeper into me, harder, exactly how I like it. He waits a few beats as we catch our breath, enjoying the closeness. He pulls out of me and we both collapse on the bed next to each other until the silence in the room is stiff enough to choke me.

“Can I ask you something?” I question, taking his silence as permission. “Why do you let Josh get under your skin so much?” he turns his head toward me, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, a hesitant smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I was– inside you, thirty seconds ago and you’re asking about my brother?” A loud laugh bubbles out of me at his blunt response, but I continue,

“Sorry, timing is weird, I know, but I was thinking, like…” I swallow, directing my attention to the chipping nail polish on my pointer finger, feeling suddenly small under the weight of his stare. “I feel like every time he brings us up, you get weird.”

Jake’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head like some kind of unofficial response.

“Okay fine maybe it’s not Josh, but the subject?” I push further, daring to meet his eyes again.

“Damn, you aren’t gonna give this up, are ya?” He huffs.

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk about that, then at least give me my fair share of the deal.” I lift up on my elbow to peer down at him. “I’d say I more than earned this secret.” I smile.

He looks up at me and for a moment, I can tell he's looking at more than my face. His eyes drift to the hollow of my collar bones, the hairs falling out of the disaster of a ponytail it was in, the space between my ear and neck that he’d breathed quiet promises into just minutes ago.

“What if the two are connected?” He asks, finally. When I give him a look of confusion, he continues, “the way we used to be and– and the secret?”

“I’m listening,” I feel my heart begin to beat just a touch faster, my cheeks warming ever so slightly. He leans up to mirror my position, his eyes meeting mine at a direct level.

“I guess I was just hoping it wasn’t really a secret at all,” he says, eyes searching mine, practically begging me to understand what he’s not saying. The air is heavy and thick between us. He swallows hard as I begin to realize what he’s alluring to.

“Forget it, I–” he begins, breaking our eye contact, ready to make up some lame excuse about being tired and choosing to talk about it in the morning.

“I love you too, Jake,” I blurt out before I can chicken out.

And I will never– ever forget his face when he looked back up at me in that moment.

Because I was finally able to answer, in one sentence, the question he’d been asking for years and years. “Do you love me, like I love you?” Yes, resoundingly and conclusively, yes.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@doodle417 @gvfrry @spicedandicedtea @yeehawbesties @samkiszkalover @gretavansteph @mannick @theweightofjake @basiccortez @lallisonl @sammiejane22 @sammyslappers @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @keighoe @myownparadise96 @gretavanbitches @s0livagant @aconfusedhippie @jordierama @writingcold @fuzzybatpersonafan @mamalikes-gvf @laurenlovesgretavanfleet @alwaysonthemend @saoirsemaeve

#greta van fleet fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #gvf smut #gvf imagine #josh gvf #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction #gretavanfleet #greta van fleet #greta van smut

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show-your-fangs · 11 months

Text

Swimming Pool ✿ Aaron Hotchner

We Shouldn't (And Yet We Do) - Part One

Pairing: DBF!Hotch x f!Reader

Words: 12.6k

CW: 18+, NSFW, mdni, smut, a little angst and so much fluff.

Summary: You return home for the summer because of your parents’ drama but luckily for you, your father’s friend, Mr. Hotchner, is there to bring you some much needed comfort.

Tags/warnings: shitty family life, age gap relationship (reader is 20, Hotch is 40), teasing, groping, perv!hotch, inappropriate thoughts and behavior, grinding, daddy kink bc fuck you, fingering (f receiving), protected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it or at least make sure you talk it over with your partner and get tested!).

a/n: Thank you so much to @canuck-eh for writing Loose Morals and reigniting my passion to write this series, and to @xladyxdreamer for putting up with my Moments angst to the point where this series is now my penance for it. Finally, to whoever started the DBF!Hotch train, you are a god and I love you.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

Coming back home in the middle of summer was…a lot. You’d just finished your second year away at college and you weren’t supposed to come back home until Christmas six months later, a compromise you’d agreed to only for your mother. But then she’d called out of the blue, sobbing, hysterical, and you had booked a flight back home to Virginia before she’d even hung up.

When you did finally arrive the morning after, she was much calmer, but the edge in her voice remained and you knew something was wrong. The only problem was that she refused to tell you what it was. It wasn’t until your high school friend took you out to lunch later that she finally clued you in as to what was going on.

Your father had apparently been caught getting busy with another one of the professors at the college he taught at. Someone had taken a…suggestive picture and now everything was in shambles. Well, not everything, mostly just his own marriage. From the little bits of information you were able to string together from your mother, it was clear that he was gaslighting her into believing that the picture was taken out of context and he wasn’t actually having an affair.

It had all blown up in your face about twenty minutes ago. Your house was packed with people, mostly your father’s close friends, colleagues, and their wives. He had decided to host an end of term/start of summer cocktail party to quell whatever doubts lingered amongst his social circles that whatever had or had not been taken didn’t mean anything and his marriage was still going strong. What he hadn’t accounted for, however, was you coming back to make sure your mother was alright.

You’d been holding onto the anger all afternoon as you followed your mother around, yelling and complaining and just desperately trying to reason with her. You’d never been a huge fan of your father. Sure, he’d done the bare minimum to give you life and was now paying for the part of your tuition that wasn’t covered by all the scholarships you’d gotten so that you didn’t have to graduate with massive loans. But aside from the small kindnesses he awarded you every so often, your relationship was nonexistent.

It was almost as if he’d predicted your mood because he didn’t arrive at the house until the party was minutes from starting. You had thought about leaving, about going out and getting wasted with your high school friends, but before you could even tell your mother you were going out, you found her crying in the master bedroom. And just like that you were back to seeing red.

The door swung open and you practically stormed towards it like a woman possessed.

“We need to talk,” you started. “No, let me rephrase, I need to scream at you and you’re going to listen—”

“Honey,” your father said sternly, opening the door fully. “Do not be rude to Aaron, say hello.”

Shame hit you like a bus as Mr. Hotchner came into focus behind your father. Fuck, he was good. It was eerie how clever your father could be when he didn’t want to be told off, when he knew that he’d done something wrong and instead of owning up to it he’d do everything in his power to avoid talking about it.

“Hi, Mr. Hotchner,” you managed through gritted teeth as your father walked past you and into the kitchen.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he replied, an amused smile on his lips. “I didn’t know you were coming back for summer break.”

“I’m not,” you tried to keep your voice steady. He must’ve known why you were angry, why the sudden outburst, but he didn’t reply, he simply nodded, lips in a thin line, trying to look anywhere but you.

“Well,” he broke the short silence. “I better put this on ice.”

He held out a bottle of Scotch he’d presumably brought over from his own house next door and walked after your father. You stood alone at the open door, the freedom of the night away from the exhaustion of fighting against your parents alluring. And yet you couldn’t seem to walk out, couldn’t seem to will your legs to move you in the direction of the rational choice.

Your heart was beating unbearably fast, and it wasn’t because of whatever was happening between your parents. No, it had everything to do with the FBI agent that had just walked into your home and the way he had clearly glanced down at your exposed cleavage before he had to immediately shift his gaze to anything else.

Aaron didn’t want to leave you there but he truly didn’t have a choice. You were wearing a tight black dress, so tight in fact that he could’ve sworn he saw every curve of your body. What had made it even worse was the way your breasts were practically spilling out of the garment, the trim of your lacy bra peeking around the edges. He’d felt like a teenager all over again, his crotch tightening uncomfortably as he tried his hardest to listen to the words coming out of your mouth to make sure that he responded eloquently.

Your mother had already put out ice buckets and he practically slammed the bottle into an empty one. Was it stupid to chill Scotch? He honestly couldn’t even remember anymore as he desperately wished he could’ve dunk his already hardening erection on the ice as well. He needed to get a grip, needed to calm down, needed to pretend like he hadn’t already seen your body in the many pictures you had posted online in the two years that you’d been gone.

He served himself a double, watching as you left the door wide open and retreated back upstairs. He lingered by the table for a moment, finishing his drink and calming himself down. He’d known you for a little over two years, at least on a first name, dinner at your house every month, type of way. You had just graduated high school when he started teaching part time at the college where your father also taught. The two of them had become fast friends and in the months that followed while you waited out the summer to start classes you had babysat Jack while Aaron was away on cases.

It was wrong and he definitely knew it. But there was something so captivating about you, about your kindness and curiosity and interest in not only his work but in him as a person. You loved getting to know people, getting to share secrets and discuss the root of existence and emotion and life. It was easy to forget that you were this young, your eloquence far higher than most of the adults that had just started shuffling into your home.

He’d filled his glass up once more as your father’s friends and his colleagues arrived. He plastered on a polite smile and greeted everyone as they made their way through the house. The repetitive nature of small talk for the next twenty minutes allowed him to forget about you, calm his body down enough to appear normal, collected.

He had migrated to the backyard with the rest of his colleagues after a while, the men around him engaged in mindless conversation about the break ahead, their vacation plans, and anything that wasn’t about the elephant in the room, because he knew, they all knew, that your father had clearly been caught redhanded and if they didn’t get their wives to agree that he was nothing more than a victim, they could be taken down next.

You waited until the backyard was packed with people before you emerged from your room. If your father didn’t want his friends gossiping about his affair tonight then you’d give them something else to talk about. And what better thing to gossip about than your father’s college age daughter practically displaying her body for all of his married friends and their wives.

Wearing that skimpy thing that did nothing to cover you up could only mean one thing – you were trying to get back at your father. Aaron couldn’t help but almost choke on his drink as he watched you saunter back out of the house. His ears began ringing loudly as you swayed your hips, clearly asking for attention. You walked right up to the edge of the pool and dove in without so much as a single word, the stark contrast between the cocktail party and your rebellious, summer blowout attitude jarring.

He couldn’t help but notice your father’s absence back out in the courtyard, your mother also conveniently nowhere to be seen. He could only assume that she was either consoling his poor, broken ego or sucking him off inside. Either outcome made him feel incredibly bad for you, bad that you had to come back home to rumors of your father’s infidelity and your mother’s complete denial of it.

While she was working overtime trying to fix a one sided relationship, you were determined to lash out against it in the most childish way you could possibly think of, and that unfortunately meant parading around your backyard filled with middle aged men in practically nothing.

Well, fortunate for him because he got to see the way your nipples hardened against the sheer fabric the second you stepped out into the cold night air, got to marvel at way your waist dipped into your full hips, the plush muscle begging to be squeezed tightly, got to catch the faintest glance at the outline of your pussy against the red material. It was unfortunate because he knew he wasn’t the only one staring at you and he had to bite his tongue as he began to hear the men around him murmur about your body.

He wanted to step up and use his own frame to shield you from them, to hide you away from their practically salivating stares. But instead he simply took a sip of his drink and allowed himself to watch you like a hawk, to silently guard, determined to step in if any of them actually decided to turn their thoughts into action. Because even then he couldn’t help but feel protective of you.

Your father came barrelling out of the house mere minutes later, your mother practically running to catch up and stop him. He was about to blow up, about to make a scene, one that you were eagerly waiting for when her hand landed on his chest and he seemingly remembered where he was and who he was surrounded by. He instantly relaxed his face and Aaron couldn’t help but take a step forward, tense and ready to fight him.

“Honey,” your mother spoke instead, layering the guilt on thick. “Please get out of the pool, I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Aaron set his glass down and walked over to the little hamper by the grill, expertly fishing out a large towel. He could feel everyone else start to notice that he’d moved, that he was inserting himself into something that clearly had nothing to do with him. But it didn’t matter the second that your round, hurt, expressive eyes met his. His gaze softened, just for you, to let you know that you didn’t want to make this any worse than it already was. And for the first time ever, you listened to him.

Your mother thanked him as he walked around them, towel extended in his hands for you to simply curl yourself into it. He could tell your cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and when he draped the fabric over your shivering body, he could smell the faint, lingering scent of alcohol on your breath. He sighed deeply, just for himself and you followed suit, taking the moment to compose yourself.

“Thank you,” you whispered, delicate fingers taking the towel from him and wrapping it around yourself, terrified of what your reaction would be if you’d let him do it for you. You were back inside the house in seconds, the party resuming quickly as your parents started their rounds of greetings and small talk. He lingered by the pool for a few minutes, not wanting to be incredibly obvious about following you inside.

He told himself that he only wanted to make sure you were alright, that there was nothing wrong with being concerned for you after what had just happened. And so when the waiters began to pass out hors d'oeuvres, he took advantage of the distraction and slipped back into the house.

“Sweetheart?” he whispered loudly as he willed the wood beneath his feet not to creak loudly against the final step of the staircase. “Are you alright?”

The second floor was deserted, terrifyingly quiet and dark. He noticed the light was on in your bathroom across the hall from your room and he approached. The second his shadow landed over the wood, the door swung wide open, greedy hands grabbing a hold of his shirt and pulling him into the small room.

“I need you,” you slurred, your hands sliding down towards his belt, trembling fingers struggling with the silver buckle. He couldn’t stop the groan that erupted from his throat, the sounds spurring you on.

He was so distracted by the thrill, the shock and surprise of your neediness, of your clear desire for him that his brain short circuited for a second, lost to the sensations he’d been craving from you for years.

You’d never done anything like this before, never even flirted with each other as far as he was concerned since he made sure to watch his words around you, only allowing himself one thing, to call you sweetheart. Which could only indicate that your sudden boldness meant that you’d thought about this just as much as he had, that you’d caught him staring at you with hunger in his eyes just like he’d caught you staring at him with danger in yours.

“Sweetheart,” he said bluntly, trying to use his words before he was forced to use his hands to stop you. “You’ve had a lot to drink,” you scoffed. “You’re upset,” your hand squeezed over the outline of his cock and it took everything in him to not let out a single sound. That seemed to do the trick as your confident demeanor slipped away and the terrified girl desperately trying to hide resurfaced.

Tears laced your eyes, your chest began to shake, your hands trembled, slowly slipping away from his body. He scooped them both up in his warm, large palms, bending your arms over your chest before pressing you tightly to his. You began to sob then and it broke Aaron’s heart. Your face landed over his frantically beating heart. If you noticed through your tears you made no effort to comment on it. He held you like that for a while, not caring at all that his clothes were definitely wet now.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, arms crossing over your chest in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up now that you were clearly not going to get what you’d wanted only seconds before. He crouched down and picked up the towel off the floor, this time making it a point to drape it over you and wrap you tightly in it. You felt like a child, a dumb, stupid child that had just thrown a tantrum and had been scolded. It was humiliating.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he assured you, allowing himself to talk down to you just a little. His heart was still racing, his mind even more so now as he realized that the barrier that he’d put up between the two of you all those years ago had just been shattered into a million pieces. “Why don’t you take a shower and get some sleep?”

You nodded, refusing to look him in the eyes. But he would not have it. He hooked a finger under your chin, gently yet forcefully, pulling your gaze up to meet his. His thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, your mouth opening slightly without him doing anything to you.

“Good girl,” he hummed and you practically whimpered, your thighs pressing together. The side of his mouth curled into the tiniest of smirks before he removed his hand from your body completely and walked out the door, leaving you alone in your bathroom with a fire burning in your chest.

You were unsure when the decision had been made, but you’d awoken the next day to a letter from your mother on the kitchen counter, the house spotless as the cleaning crew she’d hired probably went through it the night before. Your parents were gone for the rest of the summer, apparently one of your father’s friends had a timeshare at some resort in Italy and they were able to squeeze your parents into their trip last minute.

You released a sigh you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The memories of the events of the night before had been washing over you in powerful, drowning waves ever since you opened your eyes fifteen minutes ago. You regretted at least ninety percent of your actions, having been so wrapped up in getting back at your father that you had completely forgotten that your actions would also affect your mother. The look of disappointment, of complete and utter shame and embarrassment that had taken over her face as she spoke to you haunting, especially now in the brightness of the day.

And then there was Mr. Hotchner. Fuck, you cringed every time you remembered what you’d done, how you’d come onto him so pathetically. You couldn’t deny the rejection didn’t hurt but he had been right. You were upset, unbelievably so, and it would’ve stung even more to think of your first time with him to have been because you were trying to make your father angry, not because you actually wanted to sleep with him.

And oh boy did you want to.

As much as Freud was an idiot, you were very aware after two years of your psychology degree that your attraction to older men had everything to do with your need to seek the approval your father denied you from your romantic partners.

You’d had a very childish crush on Mr. Hotchner for years. It was silly, something that kept your pussy wet at night and made your friends giggle whenever you told them about the hot neighbor that you used to babysit for. But you knew he was unattainable. You could never have him, and sadly, that only made you want him even more.

In an act of defiance you hadn’t done what he’d told you to do the night before. Instead you took off the remaining pieces of clothing you still had on and tossed them into your shower before you walked across the hall to your room, pulled out the shitty bullet vibrator you’d left behind two years ago, and desperately tried to get yourself off. To say you’d been unsuccessful, your fingers and the weak device never even coming close to what you truly desired, what you needed.

That had only made you angrier, angrier at yourself, angrier at him. By the time you had drank your first cup of coffee all of your embarrassment had washed away into cold, seething irritation. He clearly wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You definitely hadn’t imagined the way he responded to your touch, the way he’d groaned in response. And that was the problem. He’d been holding himself back, whatever friendly relationship the two of you had built, one that you regarded as honest and sincere nothing more than a facade he’d concocted to keep you at arm’s length.

You grabbed a pair of sunglasses that your mother must’ve left on the kitchen counter and placed them over your eyes before walking back out to your backward. You were aware that there was a specific spot in front of the sliding doors that he could see from his house next door. You’d noticed it when you were babysitting one time, the thrill that he could’ve seen you in your bikini at some point that summer driving you insane.

You didn’t want to be at arm’s length anymore. You refused to let whatever fears you were holding onto because of his relationship with your father to stop you from going after what you’d wanted for so long.

You dragged a lounge chair over to that exact spot, the blaring sun perfectly over it as the excuse you needed in case he brought up your pathetic ploy. Once you were satisfied with your placement you shrugged off the robe you’d been wearing, the fabric falling off your shoulders and pooling around your feet in an instant to reveal absolutely nothing covering your body.

You’d fallen asleep at some point, completely naked and aggravated. You made sure to take your time getting into a comfortable position over the chair, chest out, legs curled suggestively, putting all of your assets on display. With the bait set, it was now a matter of waiting for him to bite.

You heard him yell your name across your house about ten minutes later. It didn’t surprise you that he had his own set of keys, your stomach already twisting in anticipation and excitement at just how easy it had been to get him exactly where you wanted him.

“Are you decent?” he asked with a smirk in his voice. He knew you weren’t. “Jack is here with me.”

You practically leapt off the chair, frantically picking up the robe and putting it on as the two of them walked out onto the backyard. Jack said your name then, chipper and excited, immediately melting away any ice left behind. You turned around just in time for the boy to wrap himself around your legs, squeezing you into a tight hug which you reciprocated, pulling him up to sit on your hip.

“Hi, angel,” you greeted the boy. “How’s summer treating you?”

“Hot,” he replied, trying to push himself away from you. You couldn’t help but laugh, setting him back down in the shade. “Can we swim in your pool?”

“Of course you can!” you replied. “Do you mind if I join you?”

The boy’s eyes practically widened out of his head in joy, turning back to his dad with just an unbelievable amount of energy.

“Not at all,” Mr. Hotchner replied for him and you shot him a smile before you excused yourself to go change into something kid appropriate.

To say that he’d seen your little display was an understatement. He’d been sitting on his desk in his home office, finalizing his weekly schedule with Jessica when he saw you step out. He knew, after much trial and error, that you couldn’t see him from this angle, and so he made no effort to move to get a better look.

And then you took off your robe and he was abruptly presented with your naked body. His mouth went dry in an instant, his pupils dilated, his heart pounded against his chest. It took him a full minute to realize that Jessica was trying to get his attention before his brain reconnected with his body and he asked her to repeat herself.

Five minutes later he was hanging up the call and rushing down the hall to ask Jack if he wanted to go swimming. The boy practically leapt to his feet, running across his room to get himself ready. They didn’t have a pool at their house, so your mother had generously let them use theirs after you went away for college. She’d even gotten them key to the house and sent him the alarm code every time they changed it just in case.

Aaron changed into his swimsuit in record time, practically tripping as he ran back and forth, all over the house, looking for the many, many toys that Jack definitely needed to stay distracted for the next few hours. As much as he wanted to walk over alone, find you naked and eager for him, fuck you on the lounge chair and then probably inside the pool to cool off, he couldn’t leave Jack behind, he wouldn’t leave Jack behind because he didn’t want you to know just how much you had affected him.

This was a power move, one that he had fallen for instantly. What he needed to do was not give in, not give you what you wanted, continue to frustrate you, to tease you until you couldn’t take it anymore, all because he wanted to remind you that he held all the cards, that he was the one calling the shots, that he would be the one on top while you writhed in pleasure beneath him.

You returned a few minutes later in a plain black one piece. To say he was disappointed was an understatement, but he admired your decorum while you were around Jack. It was like a flip had switched, eyes clouded with lust and desire clearing away to joy and excitement to spend your day with a hyperactive kid instead of lazily sunbathing your troubles away.

You handed Mr. Hotchner a bottle of sunscreen, having specifically chosen the cream kind instead of the spray so that he’d be forced to touch you when you asked, “Would you mind getting my back?”

He looked up at you with the same eyes from last night and you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle. He looked at Jack then to make sure the boy was adequately engrossed in his toys, clearly deciding which ones he was going to play with first, before he opened the bottle and squirted some of the cream into his palm.

“On my lap,” he ordered, low and just for you to hear. Your eyes immediately darkened and he smirked knowingly. You rolled your eyes then, reminding yourself that today was just playful after all.

You stepped forward towards his opened legs and prettily sat yourself down on his thigh, your back to him. You’d already put your hair up so he went right in. His warm, sticky palms landed on the sides of your neck first, slowly sliding down your shoulders before they returned to the center and then slid down your exposed back. While you couldn’t wear the skimpy, barely there suit you wanted, you’d still chosen something that gave him a subtle peek of your body.

He continued his movements, unapologetically taking his time, dragging his touches, lingering over your neck and putting pressure around it. You shivered under his hands, your ass unconsciously grinding down on his leg.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he purred in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You stilled immediately, his fingers squeezing around your neck softly in reward. “All done.”

Your brain processed the words and yet you made no effort to stand up, and he made no effort to make you. His hands grazed down your arms, the backs of his fingers practically leaving feather light kisses on your skin until they landed on your hips. He gave your love handles a squeeze before he let his hands settle over your lap, leaning down to rest his chin on the crook of your neck.

The gesture itself had been so casual yet unbearably intimate that you didn’t notice you’d stopped breathing until your lungs started to burn. You inhaled sharply, your entire body shivering as you tried to keep the panting at bay.

“You say the word and I’ll stop, sweetheart,” he whispered against your neck, gentle and kind, his tone meant to reassure you that you still had power. You nodded and he pressed a kiss below your ear, making you shudder once more. “So responsive for me.”

A whine escaped your lips, making Jack turn back to face the two of you. His hands were off you before you could even register, your own body reacting instinctively as you shot up to your feet.

“Ready to get in the water?” you managed, flashing the boy a bright smile. He nodded enthusiastically, picking up a few of his diving toys in one hand before taking your outstretched hand with his other one. He diligently led you to the shallow end of the pool and Aaron watched as you both threw the little fishes into the deep end, giggling as Jack tried to toss them farther than you.

He took a moment to compose himself, a moment to shift the material of his swim suit to try and hide the evidence of his arousal. He hated how easy it was for him to come undone around you, how you had him wrapped around your finger and could get him hard by simply existing. It made him feel young again, his libido higher than it’d been in years, and it was all because of you.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he heard you and Jack splash against the water. Jack resurfaced first, already panting as he worked overtime to keep himself above water. You appeared then, like a beautiful mermaid coming above water to lure unsuspecting sailors to their deaths. And in that moment Aaron knew that he’d sink to the bottom of the ocean if it meant he could have even a taste of you.

“Daddy!” Jack yelled, getting his attention. “Come into the pool!”

“Yeah, daddy,” you teased. “What are you waiting for?”

All the playfulness drained from his face in a second, making you choke on your own saliva in response before it reappeared as if nothing had happened. Your thighs rubbed together, the knowledge of the effect your words had had on him thrilling.

“Coming buddy,” he replied to the boy, choosing to ignore you as he stood back up, kicking off his flip flops and cannonballing into the pool.

Jack’s laughter brought you back down to reality as the waves his dad had created crashed over you, cooling your overheating face. You watched him resurface at the other end of the pool, one of the fishes you’d thrown under between his fingers.

“One to zero,” he announced playfully and Jack gasped, immediately diving down to gather as many fishes as he could, giving Aaron the perfect pocket of privacy to glance back at you. His face fell into a stern look of warning, daring you to call him that again to see what you could find out.

You smirked back briefly before diving underwater, the mere mention of a challenge overshadowing whatever tension lingered between the two of you.

You grabbed three fishes, swimming across the pool towards him underwater. You made sure Jack was above water before you made your move, fingers wrapping around Mr. Hotchner’s trunks to pull yourself out of the water as you practically climbed him.

You felt him tense against your touch and that made your body flood with warmth once more. You made him feel like this, you made him react like this, you had the same effect on him that he had over you.

Your head pierced the surface and he wasted no time pulling you further out of the water, his arm hooking around your waist again and pressing your hip against his painfully hard erection.

You gasped loudly, nervously looking around and noticing that Jack had thankfully gone back underwater so at the very least he wouldn’t see the euphoric expression on your face.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. “Mr. Hotchner,” you whined and his grip tightened.

For a second you forgot about where you were and the game you were still playing. Your eyes landed on his. They were hazy, glossed over and dangerously close to snapping.

“Address me properly,” he ordered, lifting his knee to slide between your legs and press you further into him. You swallowed a moan, your breathing ragged, your skin unbearably tight over your body.

You opened your mouth to speak but the word was screamed into existence by a voice that wasn’t yours. The two of you turned to face Jack who was eagerly swimming over to where the two of you were. You started to shift uncomfortably, trying to pull away from him, but he kept you in place as if you weren’t caught in a compromising position.

“Did you get tired of swimming?” Jack asked you like this was the most normal thing in the world and you managed a nod. “That’s okay! I get tired sometimes and daddy has to hold me too.”

Your cheeks heated up once more and you thanked every deity out there that the sun was so hot on your skin that the kid didn’t notice a change. Jack reached out and grabbed a hold of his father’s shoulder to keep himself above water before pulling out his other hand from under the water, a fistfull of the colorful fishes in his palm.

“I got six!” he told you and you finally snapped out of your daze, groaning dramatically as you showed him your own loot only being three.

“I demand a rematch!” you told the boy before tossing your fishes back into the pool. He followed your lead and held your stare, the two of you seizing the other up before he got tired of waiting and dove back into the water, his giggles getting swallowed by the water.

“Little cheater!” Aaron let you go then and you followed after the boy. You were so concerned with winning the silly game that you didn’t even notice the dopey smile across his face, one that he couldn’t hide from himself, one that almost made his heart burst with happiness.

You played with the fishies a few more times until Jack was complaining that he was starting to get hungry and the three of you got out of the pool to dry off while Mr. Hotchner ordered lunch.

You reapplied Jack’s sunscreen, placed a hat over his head and a towel over his body before you walked into the house to make a pitcher of lemonade and get some of the fruit your mother had bought a few days ago so that you could snack on it while you waited for the pizza to get there.

You’d cut the lemons and had started squeezing them into the pitcher when his hands wrapped around your waist again, his front pressing against your back forcefully. You ground your ass back into him, never once stopping your task.

“Hi,” he whispered in your ear.

“Hello,” you replied, squeezing a half of a lemon with your hand, too lazy to get something else dirty.

“Thank you for today,” he continued, his hands now slowly running up and down your sides, begging to elicit a reaction from you. “I know it’s not exactly what you planned but Jack is having a lot of fun.”

You hummed in agreement. “I’m having a lot of fun too.”

“Oh, yeah?” he stepped forward, locking you in place between the counter and his chest. “I’m having a lot of fun three.”

You snorted at the insinuation and the terrible joke, and he laughed in return, the two of you devolving into a fit of giggles like you’ve known each other intimately for years. And in a weird, almost strange way, you had. You’ve always had this rapport with him, this deep understanding of each other, mostly because you were both so into the other that you’d actually spent many nights asking questions, eager to know more.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked you once the laughter subsided and your heart started beating rapidly once more.

You immediately twisted around in his grip, holding your hands up and away from him as the juices from the lemons ran down your arms.

“Yes,” you heaved and he didn’t waste another second as he pressed his lips to yours. They were so soft and still warm from the sun still lingering over them, lulling you into a sense of safety. You opened your lips as his hands left your waist and cupped your jaw to press you further into him. You moaned into his mouth as his tongue entered, deepening the kiss into a hungry and desperate mess.

He pulled back so you could breathe after a few more laps and your eyes blinked open, the light reflecting against them and making them shine almost ethereally. He smiled, his thumbs rubbing over your cheeks. You returned the smile, somehow already feeling warm and fuzzy from just a kiss. He leaned in again, his nose playfully tickling your own, making you giggle sweetly. He truly wanted nothing more than to make you laugh all the time.

He was about to press his lips against yours again, already craving the feeling like a man that had been left to wander the desert for days, when his phone rang loudly, interrupting the tender moment. He sighed deeply, apologetically looking at you and you immediately shook your head, letting him know not to worry about it. He picked up the phone, determined to make the conversation quick so he could return to what he truly wanted to do.

In the meantime you finished the lemonade, washed your hands with soap, and brought the pitcher, some glasses, and the bowl of cubed watermelon to the table outside. You checked in on Jack, the boy having fallen asleep, making you chuckle softly. You sat yourself at the table and waited for him to come back, already missing his lips.

It was certainly an interesting turn of events, made even more interesting by how easy it was to fit into his life. Even with your parents you always felt like the odd one out, like they were their own thing and you just sort of existed around them. But with Mr. Hotchner and Jack…you felt like you just fit right in, like you’d always been a part of their family.

When he finally exited into the backyard he bore a very different expression on his face, one of remorse and stress. The playfulness from before had left his body and all that remained was the stoic FBI agent you’d sometimes get when he returned from cases or…got called into one.

You sighed deeply, knowing that was exactly what had happened and he had to stop himself from melting at the thought that you just knew what he needed before he could even ask it.

“Do you need me to look after Jack?” you asked as he sat down on the chair across from you.

“Please,” he replied, taking your hand in his and squeezing gently. “Jessica can pick him up at school Wednesday afternoon and take him to her place.”

You nodded, returning the squeeze and trying to alleviate his guilt with an understanding smile.

“When do you leave?” he asked you then, one of the many elephants in the room finally getting addressed.

“Friday morning,” you replied and it was his turn to sigh, defeated. As much as you understood his work and just how much he needed it, he also understood your own, your life being far away from D.C., far away from him. He just wanted you all to himself, here with him all the time, and it pained him that he couldn’t have it.

After allowing himself another moment of sitting in silence, of feeling his emotions and letting them tear his heart into pieces, he stood up, pulling you to your feet with him. He crushed his lips to yours and your hands finally tangled in his hair, his own greedily squeezing your hips.

“Pizza should be here any minute,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I got it, don’t worry,” you replied, pressing a closed kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Jack?”

He nodded, reluctantly letting you go as he knelt down beside the lounge chair and woke the boy up. You watched as they said their goodbyes, your fingers coming up to trace your lips where he’d just kissed you, all the conflicting things you were feeling crashing over you at once.

The first phone call came that same night. It was late, you were already asleep when your phone vibrated on the nightstand next to you. You were honestly surprised that you’d heard it, annoyed more so than surprised as your eyes blinked open painfully.

“Hello?” your voice was deep, hoarse and clearly exhausted.

“Hi, sweetheart,” his on the other hand was soft and awake.

“Hi,” you replied, settling back on the soft pillow and closing your eyes.

“Did I wake you?”

“Mhmm,” you whined and it broke his heart.

“I’m sorry,” to his credit, he did sound sorry.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled.

“I just wanted to say goodnight to Jack.” And to you.

“He fell asleep immediately…” You tried to stay awake, desperately, but sleep was pulling you down, the heat from spending the entire day under the sun had seeped deep into your bones, making them heavy. The current had sinked your boat and you were peacefully sinking under the waves with it. You didn’t even register him calling your name, realizing that you were probably out of it, and finally telling you that he’d call you another time.

You woke up bright and early the next morning, your senses overwhelmed by just how much his bed smelled like him.

It was honestly a stupid thought, that the things that were his carried him with them, but it didn’t matter how many times you’d slept here in the past, there was something so all consuming about them now.

Your three days with Jack went by quickly. You had forgotten how much of a perfect kid he was, how attentive and kind and easy it was to take care of him. Getting him ready for school was a breeze, breakfasts were filled with laughter and him rambling on about the dream he’d had the night before. Once you dropped him off at school, you found yourself missing him more than you ever had, and so you spent your days wandering aimlessly.

On Monday you cleaned the entire house, top to bottom. You put on one of Mr. Hotchner’s records on and drowned the house in music, your voice booming just as loudly as the singer’s, wanting nothing more than to distract yourself from the ache in your chest.

On Tuesday there was a lice outbreak and luckily, Jack was not affected. They still had to shut down the school for the day, so Jack had gotten a half day. You took him to the store to buy enough baking supplies to start your own bakery, and spent the rest of the afternoon making cookies and cupcakes.

It was around six that your phone rang. You were in the kitchen, cooking dinner for the two of you. Saucepan forgotten, you immediately crossed the room, fingers fumbling to answer the phone.

“Hey, give me one second,” you cut him off, putting him on speaker before you stepped out into the hall. “Jack! Your dad’s on the phone!”

“I don’t know if I should be touched or offended that you don’t want to speak with me,” he cracked and you couldn’t help but smile, making your way back to the device on his counter.

“I always want to talk to you,” you hummed. “But I also know you’re busy and—”

“Dad!” Jack ran into the kitchen, swiping the phone away from you and running right back down the hall. You laughed to yourself, returning to the stove before you burnt something.

You hadn’t been speaking, not really. Every so often you’d send him a picture of what you were up to and he’d do his best to reply, always short and sweet. He never sent any pictures of his own for obvious reasons, but it still made your heart constrict every time that you woke up the morning after to a missed call from him.

They were on the West Coast, in a small town somewhere in Oregon. At least that’s what you’d gathered from the messages here and there. By Wednesday you said goodbye to Jack at dropoff and told him you’d see him for Christmas. He was, understandably, very upset, since you’d just spent, what he kept calling, the best three days of his life with him. It broke your heart, shattered it into a million pieces, but you reminded him that you didn’t live there anymore and that you had other places to be. Obviously not cooler than spending time with him, but that it was still important.

Jessica called you that afternoon to let you know that she had Jack and you chatted for a bit. She was always so easy to talk to, her openness to their strange family dynamic almost overwhelmingly supportive. She always remembered your birthday, always sent you a card (one that you knew she’d been making Mr. Hotchner and Jack to sign every year), and always made sure to ask if you were coming back home for any major break.

She liked having you around, liked the extra support you had given them while Jack was out on his own break, liked that the boy clearly loved you and felt safe around you. And after the three days you had spent with him then, it only made sense to start thinking about actually coming back home next summer to help them out, to have an excuse to see him as often as you could.

You spent Wednesday and Thursday working on the tasks you'd been left with from your internship. They had graciously allowed you to go home after you informed them there was a family emergency, but you still had to meet the weekly quota, just like everyone else. Being in your house alone was...exhausting. It was too quiet, too empty, too devoid of Jack's infectious laugh and...and Mr. Hotchner's low and inviting voice.

You hadn't spoken to him since you let him know Jessica had picked his son up. You knew he was busy, knew that he probably didn't want to speak to you while his mind was not in the right place, while he was using most of his energy to do his job. He didn't text and so neither did you. And as much as you understood why, the silence had only made your heart clench in pain, your brain already overthinking all the possibilities.

He was supposed to arrive in a few hours, having received the only text he'd sent to tell you that they were about to take off and that he should be back home in a few hours.

You’d decided to get one last swim in before you returned to your concrete life that was Brooklyn. But if you were being honest with yourself, you just needed a distraction.

You’d been drowning, quite literally, as the finality of the distance that you were about to put between yourself and Mr. Hotchner loomed closer and closer. Sure, he traveled a lot for work, he was away at least sixty percent of the time…but you had moved away two years ago with the intention of cutting yourself loose of all the ties keeping you in D.C.

It had been easy to do so, the only one that truly hurt you every day being your mother. But now, after sitting with your overwhelming crush that has snowballed into catching actual feelings for him…was hell.

You needed to talk to him about it, needed to ask him to tell you that everything was going to be okay, that you could make this work, whatever this was. But you also didn’t want to pressure him, didn’t want to pressure yourself to get tied down to something that could very easily not work out.

You were floating on your back, simply allowing the water to gently rock you around the pool when you saw a pair of slacked legs walking towards the edge of the pool.

“There you are, sweetheart,” he hummed. “I’ve been calling for a whole minute and you didn’t answer.”

You stood yourself up, shooting him an apologetic smile as you walked towards him.

“'m sorry,” you murmured, the tightening on your heart only squeezing harder now that he was really here. He shot you a smile in response but he looked tired, defeated almost. You could only imagine what it must feel like to walk around with all of that weight, with the burden of the atrocious things they dealt with every day.

He squatted down next to the edge and you propped yourself up on the space between his legs to pull yourself high enough for his lips to reach yours. The kiss was short and soft, domestic almost, as if you did this every time he came back home from a long case.

You slid back into the water, unable to hold yourself up any longer as an excuse to put some distance between the two of you. You were certain that if he stared at you for even a second longer, he would definitely know there was something wrong, that somehow he’d be able to see into your body and realize just how contorted your heart was.

“Join me?” you asked, trying to change the subject before it was even brought up.

He sighed, conflicted. “I don’t think we should, sweetheart.”

“Please,” you whined. “I promise I’ll behave.”

He chuckled at that, knowing fully well that you most definitely would not, because he would most certainly not. But he found himself standing back up, quickly shrugging off his button down, the white wife pleaser underneath, his shoes, socks, and pants. You watched him in awe, mouth hanging slightly open as you began to salivate, your desire quickly making you forget all about your painful feelings.

He smirked at you as he sat down on the edge of the pool and slowly lowered himself into it. You hadn’t realized until he stretched his hand out to you that you’d drifted away to the other side of the pool. You took a small, steadying breath, trying to appear as normal as possible before you walked back to him.

His hands wrapped around you instantly, bringing you into him tightly. It was almost as if he relaxed into you, his breathing deep and steady, a drastic contrast to your rapidly beating heart. You tried so hard to copy his rhythm, to blend into it in a feeble attempt to not raise suspicion, to show him that you were happy he was back.

And it worked...for almost a second.

“Thank you for taking care of Jack,” he said.

“It was my pleasure,” you replied almost too quickly.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” he pulled back, his gaze desperately trying to meet yours.

You hated him so much, hated how good he was at his job, hated how he could read you like it was the easiest thing in the world. Meanwhile, you were having to use all of your knowledge to just guess how he was feeling.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lied, your fingers subconsciously fiddling with his hair. He sighed, shifting your core away from his as his hand snaked down to pull your swimsuit bottoms out of the way. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, finally snapping up to meet his but his attention was no longer on your face.

Before you could question the sudden advance, he plunged his middle finger into you, making you moan loudly, your walls clenching around him.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he ordered, his finger curling upwards to hook against the spot that he somehow knew instinctively would make you come undone.

You whined, holding onto him tighter. “I’m scared!”

“Of what?”

“This–” he curled his finger again, another moan erupting. “Us– fuck, I’m scared that I won’t be able to see you every day and it’ll mess up whatever this is,” you practically screamed.

His movements stilled and you decided to foolishly allow yourself to meet his eyes. He was staring at you with what you could only describe as relief?

You blinked, realizing that he was allowing you to read him like he could read you. You’d said exactly what he was thinking, what he was also holding in, what the heaviness that he carried had been about.

He pressed further into you. “Do you want to be mine?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “I want to be yours, all yours.”

“That’s good,” he groaned. “Because I want to be all yours too, sweetheart.”

You whined at his words, the tight grip fear had on your heart releasing just enough to let you breathe again.

“I thought…” you trailed off, afraid that if you said what you’d thought aloud that he’d hate you. Instead he just waited patiently for you to muster the courage to say what you’d been holding in. “I thought you might only want to fuck me and nothing else.”

He shoved another finger into you at that, as if you say how dare you think that. You moaned again, your body tensing up, your walls pulsing around his fingers, practically keeping them hostage inside of you.

“So tight,” he mumbled, clearly needing a moment to regain his composure before he spoke again. “I’ve wanted you– to be with you for a while, sweetheart. I was just…afraid of how it could destroy your relationship with your parents.”

The second elephant in the room reappeared and you couldn’t help but get another one of your fears off your chest.

“Did you know he was…” you trail off before you can finish your sentence but Aaron knew exactly what you wanted to ask him.

“No, I didn’t,” he shook his head, intensely observing your reaction. When you tensed under his touch he wasted no time to press a soft kiss to your temple. If you didn’t know but now you do then why are you still hanging around with him? That was the second part of your question, of your uneasiness, of your tensing body.

“To see you,” he murmured against your skin and you pulled back from his touch, far enough to look him in the eyes. “I kept coming back to see you.”

The confession made your stomach flip. You didn’t know how to respond, how to tell him that you’d felt the same way in a way that didn’t make you come across as insane or clingy or immature. So instead you smiled softly, leaning forward to press your lips to his once more. His grip on your body tightened, his lips on yours opened, pulling you further into him. You may not have tomorrow, but you definitely had tonight.

“I am more than happy and willing to take this slow, to just see where it goes,” he makes it crystal clear, no way to misinterpret his words, no way for you to twist them until you’ve convinced yourself that you’re crazy. Instead you just let your mind free.

“Please fuck me,” you begged and a groan loudly erupted from his throat. His fingers resumed their fast pace but you whined in response, trying to stop him. “No, I need your cock in me, please.”

He shushed you then, kissing your temple gently as he only doubled down in his forcefulness.

“Let me make you cum first,” he replied. “I gotta stretch you out, you’re so tight.”

You whimpered then, a symphony of breathy moans as you remembered just how big he’d felt through his pants. If he was telling you he needed to work you up before he could slide inside of you then you would obey. Fuck, the anticipation alone was going to be the death of you.

The water began to splash over the edge, the constant crashing of waves somehow in perfect synchronicity to the pace he’d set. It quickly became overwhelming, as if your pleasure was so intense it was actually transcending your body and manipulating the world around you.

You moaned into his ear, your hands desperately digging into his back, trying to anchor yourself to him, afraid that you could slip away at any moment. He began peppering kisses along your jaw, each one lower and lower until he was physically unable to reach any more of your skin due to the water level.

You were so close, so, so, close and he could feel it. Your body had tensed, your toes curled against his lower back, pulling him closer to you. And with one final thrust against the spot inside of you that made you see stars, the band snapped and you were screaming, not caring if the neighbors could hear you.

He worked you through your orgasm, his fingers slowing down to a bearable pace as you rested your forehead against his chest.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, clearly concerned that you hadn’t said something for a couple of minutes. You nodded against his body, slowly pushing against his chest to face him.

“Never better,” you replied and his eyebrows shot up in provocation.

“Do you want to make them a little better?” he teased and you couldn’t help the smile that took over.

“Yes.”

He pulled his hand out of you and you whined at the loss of contact.

“Such a greedy girl,” he mocked. “You’re about to be stuffed with my cock and you’re whining about missing my fingers.”

You shivered, eyes darkening as he grabbed a hold of your hand and led you back to the shallow end of the pool. He helped you out of the water, his hands attentive, possessive, never once letting you take a step without being on you.

Once you were out of the water he pulled you into him swiftly, lips back on yours with abandon. You practically melted into his touch, into his embrace, into him. Every thought in your brain was about him, about how soft his lips were, about how he smelled like a warm fire in a forest, about how his rough hands felt on your body, about how desperate he was for you.

You didn’t even register as he undid the knots of your bathing suit, only felt the cold air against your nipples, making them immediately perk up. The back of his hands accidentally brushed one as he shuffled to discard your top and you moaned into his mouth. The noise that reverberated from him in response was addictive. His eyes snapped open and he pulled back, your own lips chasing his in protest.

But he didn’t give you a second to figure him out as he arched your back with his hands, his mouth latching onto the nipple he’d just touched. It was your turn to mewl, eyes glossy and hands hungry to dig into him.

“Aaron,” you whimpered and he froze, ice cold, fully stopping his movements. His mouth softly unlatched from your breast, a thin string of saliva connecting him to you. Your face heated up immediately, the mere thought that you did something to upset him filled your eyes with tears.

“What did you say?” he asked, softly, as if he knew you were feeling like a small little animal and he needed to be careful not to spook you.

“A-Aaron?” you mumble, not even once fully comprehending what you had just done.

“You’ve never called me Aaron before,” he explained, taking pity on how much your brain was clearly not working at the moment.

You blinked in confusion, a tear accidentally falling down your cheek. He immediately wiped it away, looking down at you with eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

“I’m sorry—” you started, unsure exactly what you’re apologizing for. And he shuts you up with a kiss immediately.

“Say it again,” he groaned against your lips.

“Aaron,” you repeated, his name finally feeling heavy and important on your tongue.

He places a kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Again.”

“Aaron.”

Another kiss, this one on your neck. “Again.”

“Aaron,” he licked down to the base of your neck, his teeth greedily sinking into your soft skin as his lips suck. “Fuck, Aaron, please.”

You whined again, the sting of his mouth marking your body absolutely making you lose it. Whatever wits remained evaporated in an instant. When he pulled back, eyes practically raven, face flushed, lips plump and swollen, you couldn’t help the need to reward him.

Your hands landed on the pronounced outline of his cock against his still wet, black boxers. He wasn’t quick enough to stop you as you wasted no time pulling the fabric off him. Your eyes widened, your breathing hitched in your throat, your hand trembled slightly as you abandoned your efforts to get his boxers down his thighs and instead tentatively returned your hand to hover over his length.

He was so hard, the vein running along the underside practically pulsating. You tentatively traced it with your nail and he hissed. You smiled to yourself, your full palm replacing your finger as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly pumping him.

His own hand curled around your wrist, demanding you to stop. Your eyes shot up to finally see him, to see just how clenched his jaw was, just how deep his breathing had become.

“No, sweetheart,” he huffed. “I need you.”

As if you could both finally read each other’s minds, you untangled yourselves from each other, discarding the clothing that remained on your bodies and tossed it away before his eyes landed on you, on your naked frame, now right in front of him and not far away, separated from him by the haziness of glass.

His eyes raked lower to your pussy and his brows knitted in surprise.

“You have a tattoo,” the question blended into a statement as his hand gripped your hip, pulling you forward so that he could see it better. You bit your lip, amused by just how mesmerized he looked.

“A friend of mine gave it to me first semester,” you explained, omitting the many health code violations, how you’d been high and couldn’t remember actually getting it, or the fact that you had been sleeping with your friend when he did.

He traced his thumb over it, the placement was lower than your hip, easily hidden by your underwear and small enough that he’d never been able to make it out at a distance. His thumb dug into the center of the shitty heart then, anchoring his grip as he pulled you back to him. You moaned at the sting and it only spurred him on, the realization that you liked it when he hurt you igniting a fire in him.

His other arm hooked under your ass, lifting you over his shoulder. You gasped loudly, your confusion quickly turning into a fit of giggles as he moved you both towards the lounge chair that you had rearranged earlier that week to face his house.

He made sure to hook his foot around the pants he’d discarded earlier, kicking them forward with his foot, making sure that they landed right against the chair. He then unlatched the backrest and quickly set you down on it, your entire body over the comfortable foam cushion your mother had bought last year just for the Hotchners.

He knelt between your legs, hands running down your body to pry them open for him. It didn’t take much as you opened yourself up to him eagerly. He grinned, the smile that graced you one that you’d never seen from him before, one that even he couldn’t remember when he’d smiled like that last.

Before he forgot, he reached over to where he’d thrown his pants, growing impatient as he struggled to pull out his wallet and procure a single silver wrapper from it. You’d been so consumed by the moment that you hadn’t even thought about protection.

You thought about telling him not to, that you were on birth control and that as far as you were concerned you were clean. But you had no idea where he’d been, not that talking about his sexual partners bothered you, but bringing it up now did not seem like the right time.

“Someone was sure of himself,” you teased, watching him roll on the sheer latex over himself with more concentration than you’d ever seen from him before, and that was saying a lot.

He retaliated by slamming his tip into you without warning. Your head fell back, a moan rocking through you and down to your core, the waves reverberating against him, causing him to take a sharp, steadying breath.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he panted, a little condescending and you swallowed the urge to fight back, to resume the game you’d started when you called him daddy. He didn’t know just how deep you were willing to go, how much fun the two of you would have.

But tonight wasn’t the night for it. You needed him, craved him, desperately demanded that he fill the ache between your legs. You nodded, your hands gripping the cushion below you.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your need to anchor yourself, his ego boosted so high he had no idea how he was supposed to come back down. But he didn’t care, he couldn’t care, not when you were laid out in front of him like a buffet, what he’d been starving for the only thing on the menu now.

His left hand wrapped around your thigh, opening you further. You propped your other leg over the armrest, and he pushed forward. He had not been lying, fortunately for you. He stretched you painfully, practically stuffing you full.

He made it halfway into you when you hissed, one of your hands shooting up to wrap around his bicep, urging him to stop. He stilled immediately, slowly rocking his hips back to slide out of you before slowly pushing himself back in.

That’s when you fell, your arms giving out under you. An accomplished grin lit up his features. He sat himself back up on his heels to tower over you. Your hand sliding down to the one he’d wrapped around your leg, your fingers lacing with his, almost like a pinky promise as he continued his slow rhythm, never giving you too much, never forcing your body to take anything it wasn’t ready for.

You could practically feel the wetness dripping out of you, coating him more and more with every thrust. He could clearly feel it too, the slick making it easier for him to slide in and out of you each time.

He took it as an indication to keep going. He thrust back into you, pushing himself just an inch further than before. You were a mess of whines and whimpers, your back arching in response, needing him fully in you.

“Please, Aaron,” you slurred. “More.”

He pulled out of you completely, the desire to see himself slam back into you fully overwhelming. His hips pushed forward, easily sliding himself inside to the hilt, your ass slapping against his hips beautifully. He moaned then, his hands flying to your hips, locking you in place. You whimpered, your head craning up enough to see there was no space left between the two of you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, your walls clenching around him unconsciously.

His eyes shut close in pleasure at your movement, jaw clenching, fingers digging into your skin deeper. You took him in, on the verge of coming undone, on the verge of cumming in seconds like a teenage boy that didn’t know how to stop himself.

You giggled, your warm laughter bringing him back to you as he realized what you were laughing about. He scoffed, blush creeping over his cheeks in the most adorable way. You clenched around him again, deliberate and mean. He almost screamed then, the moan that left his lips guttural and raw.

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me,” he huffed. “I don’t want to cum yet, give me a second, alright?”

You sighed, feigning annoyance, but respected his request, unclenching your muscles to give him a moment of respite. Your hands began to draw circles over his own, nails slowly dragging up his arms and towards his chest, gentle, curious, exploring.

You took your time, diligently running your fingers over every ridge, every dip, every single one of the scars that littered his abdomen. They were smaller now and faded from what they had been when he was first attacked, but you knew they were there.

He hadn’t told you the full story, hadn’t really mentioned it aside from briefly alluding to it when he was forced to explain a comment Jack had made in passing one time, a comment about his mother. But you’d noticed them years ago, and as much as he could act like he was over it, like he was comfortable being shirtless around you, you needed him to know that he was safe, that he could trust you.

He didn’t flinch under your touch, instead he hummed, his own hands shifting their grip on you to show you how much he appreciated your touch.

“Did you catch the bad guy?” you asked suddenly. He turned to face you with a scolding expression, this is clearly not the time for this. It only made you laugh again, embarrassed. “What? Thinking about gross things helps!”

“I don’t want to ever think about that when I’m with you, got it?” he commanded.

“Yes, sir,” you replied and his eyes darkened once more, whatever fear of bursting immediately leaving his body as lustful greed flooded back in, emboldening him.

“What you called me the other day,” he started, somehow both confident in what he wanted to ask and yet boyishly shy about it. “Are you okay with that?”

“What did I call you?” you acted dumb, so dumb indeed that it got you another powerful, forceful jam of his cock. You squealed, his tip now uncomfortably pressing deeply into you. “No, daddy, ’s too much,” you whined, your voice hitching into a sweet, high pitch that made his cock twitch inside of you. “It hurts.”

“Too deep?” he asked in his normal voice, making sure to check in with you. You nodded, desperate for him to pull back, and he immediately returned to the comfortable pain. You let out a deep breath, air filling your lungs again. He was concerned, but more than anything he was turned on, the desire to ruin you too strong. “I’m going to start moving, alright?”

“Yes, daddy,” you mumbled and he groaned loudly, his cock practically taking on a life of its own and making him react in a way he’d never experienced before.

Aaron understood what desire was, he knew what it felt like, knew what to do with it, but this? This wasn’t desire. This was debilitating, allconsuming, painful almost. His brain disconnected from his body, it was as though he was floating next to his body as well as feeling everything that was happening around him, to him, because of him.

He wanted to consume you, wanted to lose himself to the perfect sounds coming out of you, wanted to feel your tightness around him all the time, wanted to drown and stay at the bottom of your waters forever.

His moans danced with yours in a delicate choir ensemble, the slapping of your bodies coming together becoming the bass keeping the pace, the rattling of the lounge chair against the concrete floor the percussion, the scrapping of the mattress against the plastic the strings – it was all too much, too good, too perfect.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” he whined. “Rub your clit for me.”

Whatever coherent thoughts were left in you forced your body to obey immediately, your shaky hand landing in between your bodies. Your fingers were met with a lewd amount of slick, your clit puffy and screaming out to be touched. You rolled your fingers over it and the sensitivity sent you into overdrive, a snap of electricity running all the way down to your opening.

He moaned in response, your core starting to tighten with each thrust, with each touch. The pressure was tight, tighter, desperately trying to force your dam to burst.

“Daddy,” you whimpered. “Daddy, please, please, please, please–”

“Cum, sweetheart, cum all over me,” he demanded and you let it break. Waves of pleasure crashed against you, your entire body shaking, thrashing, slamming against his. Your moans turned into whines, you dug into his forearms, your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him further into you, locking him in place.

The second he felt you clench against him, the second he felt your core tighten, your slick warm his entirety, your nails digging into his arms so hard he wouldn’t be surprised you drew blood – he lost it. He managed to thrust into you two more times before he slammed himself as far as he could inside of you, not caring if it was uncomfortable for you.

He came hot and hard into the condom, his own pleasure blurring his vision, making his own body shake against yours, making his heart feel like it had skipped a beat. He stopped breathing for a few seconds, the sensations too overwhelming for his body to remember that it needed to breathe to survive.

You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling as if you’d just ran a marathon. Your nails had stopped digging into his skin but he barely registered the lack of pain. It wasn’t until you ran your fingers over the indents in his arms that he opened his eyes, seeking yours immediately.

You waited until his gaze met yours as if it was about time it did. You smiled lazily at him, completely spent, content, satisfied. He returned the smile, allowing himself to lower his body down over yours. His chest pressed against your own, softly caging you, holding you captive as his aching lips found yours.

This kiss was unlike any of the ones you’d shared, unlike any of the ones you had shared with anyone before. It was definitive, possessive, claiming you as his, and yet it was unbearably gentle, playful, wholesome.

He was the first to pull back for air, but he didn’t move away, instead he pressed his forehead to yours, his gaze unflinching, trying to communicate so much with no words at all. It was like he was making sure to savor every last drop, committing the sight and feeling of you to memory.

Aaron took much of his life for granted, the routine of it all having numbed him to most things that other people would deem as exciting or fulfilling. The only area of his life where that wasn’t the case was his son. That little boy made everything worthwhile, every battle worth fighting, every day worth living. And now, looking at you, feeling how good he’d made you feel, he knew had found something else, someone else, that made him feel excited for what the next day could bring. That made him feel fulfilled in more ways than he could yet comprehend.

Whatever doubts you’d had, whatever walls you had started to put up to protect yourself now laid crumbled all around you. He was right from the start, you were his, whatever that happened would happen, the best that you could do was ride the waves and see where they would lead you. All that did matter was that he was there and that you knew that he was also yours.

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! This chapter was a blast to write after all the angst that Moments has killed me with.

My requests are open! I have a few chapter ideas for Mr. Hotchner but I would love to hear what y’all would like to see. Even if it doesn’t make it into the actual series, I will try to write some cute lil blurbs.

And also, because I’m a writer that needs validation, please leave me comments or love letters if you’d like to remain anon. I need the praise and love, thank you 🩷

Ps. The next chapter is titled Guest Lecturer so you can imagine what kind of debauchery I’m about to write.

Pss. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future updates!

#dbf!hotch #dbf!hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #dbf!aaron hotchner #professor!Hotch #perv!hotch #we shouldn’t (and yet we do)

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jtl-fics · 2 months

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In honor of April Fools day I will talk a bit about an AU with my favorite fool - (Redacted) Smith that I will probably never write fully but have thought about a bunch of scenes for.

I call it 2 Fluent Freshmen.

Due to a clerical error at both the school and during the local government's push to digitize their documents Smith is noted down as being 2 years older than he actually is and (perhaps a clerical error or maybe no teacher can say if they've had him in class or not) Smith also has enough credits to graduate. Gran has passed away early and there's nothing for him in Washington other than more anxiety.

Wymack & Dan come to Smith when he is 16 and Smith takes the chance to escape from his family IMMEDIATELY. Sure the Foxes are the worst team and sure there's some drama going on with Kevin Day having joined them after his injury but a full ride scholarship is a full ride scholarship!

Smith is rooming with 2 upperclassmen and his only other fellow freshman - Neil Josten. He is not hiding the fact that he can speak Russian, he is hiding the fact that he is 16. Smith ends up pretty close to Seth and Allison due to sharing a dorm / position respectively and just doing his best not to get to close to crazy Andrew Minyard. He does get a bit close with Neil but it's not something he's trying to do.

He's trying to keep his head down and get through the year.

It's a little hard when he is sat on the couch with the Kathy Ferdinand show. It's a lot harder when Riko Moriyama shows up and doesn't realize he's there and just...sits in Smith's lap?? Smith remains as blank faced as ever and what the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT HE FUCKED UP?

Do you know how hard it is to intimidate someone when you're sitting in the lap of some dude? The answer is VERY. Kevin can't take him seriously at all, especially after Smith made a comment that Riko's ass was bony.

Riko goes after them the same but Smith doesn't really get that his anger is at Kevin. "Hey, I'm sorry I called your butt bony on national television. That was rude of me. You should try some squats though." and like what the fuck is Riko supposed to say in the face of some dude genuinely apologizing to him.

It buys enough time that no one is grabbed or slammed.

Seth and Allison drag him out to the bar that night and after a few minutes sitting with Allison Smith realizes that he actually does have to pee and oh god someone's trying to assault Seth! Smith calls upon the powers of Gracie Hart and Seth has a black eye and a concussion but he graduates.

Neil wants Smith to come with him to the Thanksgiving because Neil has latched on a bit. Smith ends up going and also ends up going upstairs to go to the bathroom because oh god he cannot handle Nicky's parents hearing him take an anxiety shit. He's making his way to the end of the hall and sees a penny on the ground so he bends over to grab it.

And Drake Spears is unbalanced from missing his swing and falls right out the open window to the ground below where he breaks his neck. Naturally, Andrew is watching this scene unfold from the stairs and just starts to laugh his ass off. Smith turns around after flipping the penny over (it was tails side up and therefore not lucky) unaware of what has happened.

Smith asks if Andrew wants to use the bathroom. Andrew insists that Smith goes on ahead. The Hemmicks keep asking if they saw anyone upstairs and Smith has no idea what they're talking about, Andrew does but plays dumb out of spite. A day later it's wild that Nicky's parents got arrested. Like they seemed so normal, how did they kill someone and dump him in the side garden??

The Winter Banquet happens and well...it's dark. It's dark and Neil has brown hair and brown eyes and Smith has brown hair and brown eyes. Riko is not the best at judging heights so he calls Smith to threaten him and tell him that he's joining the Ravens for a Winter Break training camp. Jean is doing the most anyone has ever done not to laugh right now.

Riko only realizes his mistake when he's finished threatening Smith with his father and Smith ruins it. Smith is elated to have somewhere to stay over winter break. He can't mention he has nowhere to go so he'd thought he'd spend the break homeless. Now here comes Riko Moriyama inviting him to a camp where room and board will be provided?

What a nice guy. To thank him Smith compliments the gains he's noticed on Riko's ass. "The squats are really helping you, or are you doing something else?" he asks.

What the fuck is Riko supposed to do? ADMIT THAT HE FUCKED UP? Tell Smith that he's been doing squats and leg lifts before asking that he hand the tickets back and go get Neil???

Fuck that.

He'll just turn Smith against the Foxes and-

Well Riko kept talking about Smith's dead dad and so Smith may have a slight misunderstanding about the full scope of this training camp. He may think that there is some sort of seance element to it at this point and he's kind of excited at the idea of talking to his dad. "I've never spoken to a dead man before, this will be fun." and it's delivered flatly with no expression.

Riko starts to wonder if maybe Smith is the Butcher's son? Did the Butcher have two sons? He's sweating all the sudden.

It does not help that Smith brings a Ouija board to camp or that his dad was a legit Butcher before he died so Riko's tentative questioning only sends him further into an anxious mess about if Nathan had twins and Riko, due to being kept away from the family business, might just not be aware of it?

Smith has a nice Christmas break.

The last scene I've got dinging around in the noggin is in Binghamton. Smith has been left behind at many a stadium at this point. There's a solid and fast rule.

Neil cannot get on the bus without Smith. They are buddies. This is the buddy system. So when the riot starts and Neil seems to be getting pulled away in the crowd?

Well Smith grabs his hand and pulls him towards the bus, "Buddy system."

The bus starts and they're on their way shortly after. Neil's an anxious wreck but that next morning he wakes up to the news that the Butcher of Baltimore died in an FBI raid the night before as well as his men.

Smith watches the news with Neil, "Wow, that's scary." as he sips some orange juice.

#2 Fluent Freshmen AU #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #Fluent Freshman AU #Neil Josten #(Redacted) Smith #Andrew Minyard

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its-the-pilot · 8 months

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Waves | 2 | Rooster x Reader

| 1 | Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Here's some more angsty drama!

Summary: Bradley follows you out of the bar to talk and gets an idea of how much he hurt you. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2.4k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Message or comment to join the taglist!

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Chapter Two

Coronado in the summer bordered on miserable. It was hot and sticky, even after the sun had set, even on the beach with the cool Pacific Ocean only feet away. Bradley tugged at the collar of his white uniform in the oppressive humidity as he scanned the beach, spotting you almost immediately. You were walking in the sand, stopping after a few hundred feet to take your wedge sandals off, struggling to untie the ribbons that held them to your ankles.

“Dimples, wait up,” Bradley called, stepping off the Hard Deck’s patio and onto the sand before jogging toward you.

You cursed and finally got your other sandal off, picking them both up and walking further away from him now that you were steady on your feet. “Don’t call me that,” you said, spinning around to point a finger at him, your voice shaky, but firm. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”

When he caught up with you, he tried to take your hand but you shrugged him off. “Please,” he begged, continuing to follow you when you walked away again. Seeing you in pain was hard enough, but to know it was because of him made it unbearable. “I just want to talk.”

“How long has it been?” You asked, sandals dangling from one hand as you kept walking. When he didn't respond, you stopped and turned around again. “How long, Bradley? Do you even know?”

Of course he knew. It was the biggest mistake of his life, one he knew he'd never be able to make up to you. “Fourteen years, twenty three days,” he responded, his voice rough. His eighteenth birthday.

At the time it had seemed like a good idea to him, the thought being that it would hurt you less if you didn't have to say goodbye. So he said goodnight after having an amazing birthday celebration with you, telling you that he would see you the next day, and in the middle of the night he left, taking only what he could carry out of the house in one trip. He'd never forgiven himself for the way he left things, knowing that if given the chance, he would do it all differently today.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes and you fought hard to keep them from falling. You hated that this was the reaction he was having on you, especially after having pushed the feelings down and away for so many years. The first year, your Senior year, had been the hardest, his departure still fresh. It had been an open wound that damaged your relationship with Maverick, blaming him for Bradley leaving because he had pulled his Academy application. But he was the only family you had left, so when he asked you if you wanted to move to California with him so he could make it up to you, you agreed. Then there was college at UCSD, graduate school, specialized training all over the country… all things you did to keep your mind occupied, to keep yourself from thinking about him.

When you chose this career path you had known a reunion would be a possibility one day, knowing Bradley's desire to be a pilot. Subconsciously maybe that's why you did it, letting Uncle Ice help you secure a spot at TOP GUN knowing you would be the most useful there. But in the process you suppressed your feelings further, fooling yourself into thinking that even if you did run into him again, if he did come to TOP GUN, that you would be able to tell him that you had moved on.

Clearly that worked out well.

“Fourteen years, twenty three days,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around your body, suddenly feeling even more exposed in your sundress than you had with Hangman earlier. “No letters, no calls, no visits… the only reason I didn't think you were dead is because Ice lets me know you're okay.”

Bradley bowed his head slightly, ashamed of himself. So many letters and emails had been written but never sent, so many phone calls made where he hung up after one ring. So many times he drove by the house you lived in with your uncle before you both moved to California, desperate to stop but unable to bring himself to. He couldn't follow through, afraid of not knowing what to say. His fight was with Maverick, not you, but you got caught in the crossfire.

“I couldn't. Maverick--”

Anger rose in your chest again as he brought up your uncle. Yes, he had made mistakes, there was no denying that. You knew their relationship was fractured, possibly irreparably, in those last few months before Bradley left, but it didn't excuse anything, especially how he had treated you.

“You're both to blame!” You cut him off, your words dripping with frustration as you closed the gap between you, a neatly manicured finger poking him in the chest firmly to drive your point home. “You left! You! No one forced you, no one…” a broken sob escaped, derailing your tirade, and before you were able to turn and walk away, Bradley's arms were around you, gently pulling you against his chest.

You couldn't stop the sobs now, they racked your body as his large, calloused hands ran up and down your spine in an attempt to comfort you. Years of pent up emotion were escaping now that he was in front of you again, and in the back of your mind you admired him for standing there and taking the beating you were giving him.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, his lips against your hair, taking a deep breath of it, letting the memories take over even though he knew he didn't deserve them. “I know it's not enough, but I am so, so sorry.”

His body was solid against yours, even more so than you remembered. It made sense, you knew the kind of physical strength you needed to be a fighter pilot. You buried your face in his coat, his scent invading your senses, the same as you remembered, sandalwood and salt water, but somehow more mature. Nevertheless, it was comforting, and when you felt yourself beginning to relax against him, it took every ounce of strength you had to pull away and put distance between the two of you.

“I can't do this,” you whispered, barely audible above the waves as you looked anywhere but his dark hazel eyes. The damp spot on his coat from your tears, his hands doing the same nervous twitching he'd done when you were kids, his dress shoes covered in sand. It was too much, overloading your brain and emotions, turning everything up to eleven.

Turning away, you continued to walk down the beach, hearing his voice behind you as he followed, trying to get you to stop, to talk to him. You ignored all of it until he said your name, finally halting your stride, though you kept your back to him.

His long strides made quick work of the distance between you, coming to a stop with his body as close as it could be to yours without touching, and he was sure you could feel the heat radiating off of him. It took all of his patience and restraint to not reach out and wrap you in his arms, knowing that was the last thing you wanted right now. Instead he stood there, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. He was just about to speak when Hangman's voice called out from where he stood on the deck of the bar behind you.

"Rooster, last call! Hit it or quit it, everyone's leaving!" He knew the blonde was just looking for gossip at this point, one more thing to prod him about. But he also knew it was getting late, and he had an early start the next morning with his first day of training.

You heard him curse under his breath after Jake called to him, your own eyes closing as you waited to see what he would do next.

Dropping his head just enough to land a soft kiss on your temple, his mustache brushed against your skin as he frowned. More time was needed if he wanted any kind of resolution to this, and he didn't know when he would see you again. "I'm sorry," he repeated for what felt like the millionth time since he joined you on the beach. It would never be enough. "I gotta go."

"Go," you whispered, afraid that if any more words left your lips you would lose what little composure you had left. You didn't move until you felt his warmth disappear, hearing his heavy steps move through the sand as he got further away from you. Once you glanced back and saw him entering the bar with Hangman, you closed your eyes, silent tears streaming down your cheeks.

After a minute or so you wiped your tears and pulled out your phone, sending quick texts to your coworkers and Penny, letting them know that you were okay and heading home. As you started walking, you knew that no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

-------------------------

"Quit it, huh? Disappointing," Hangman commented, leaning against the railing of the patio and watching you walk away with his beer in his hand. The smug look on his face made Bradley want to punch him as he climbed the stairs, not wanting him - or anyone - looking at you, especially not in the state you were in. "She's a complete smokeshow."

"Shut up, Seresin," Bradley sighed, brushing past him. He snuck one last look back over his shoulder as he re-entered the bar, watching you disappear down the beach.

Jake just laughed, following him back inside the bar which was mostly cleared out as everyone finished their last drinks of the night. "After seeing her reaction to you, maybe I should take another shot. At least I didn't get slapped."

Rooster didn't even think before he threw Hangman up against the nearest wall, his forearm pressed against the man's throat. "I said, shut the fuck up," he growled, his eyes dark.

There was a sharp whistle behind his back, but he didn't loosen his hold on the other pilot. "Boys, you better knock it off in my bar," Penny scolded. Hangman raised his hands in surrender, giving a chuckle as Bradley finally released him, pleased with himself for pushing him as far as he had.

"Forgive us, Miss Penny, Rooster here's a li'l sensitive tonight," he apologized with his Texas drawl, bowing his head and retreating when she jerked her head toward the door, signaling that it was time to go.

Once he was gone, the bar was empty except for Bradley and Penny. "Sit," she commanded, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched the younger man take a seat on the piano bench facing her. She hadn't seen him since he was a kid, probably fourteen or fifteen, when he last came out with you, Maverick, and his mother Carole for one of Iceman's promotion ceremonies.

She hadn't recognized him earlier in his uniform and with that mustache, but when the scene unfolded, she put the pieces together quickly. You had told her everything years ago, when you were in school and bartending with her part time at this very same bar before she bought it, so she felt she needed to advocate for you. "Does Pete know you're here?" she asked, looking down at him as he fiddled with his cover absently.

"No," he said simply, not looking up at her, though his knuckles went white when Maverick was brought up. "At least, not as far as I know."

Penny sighed, uncrossing her arms and pulling a chair over to sit in front of you. "And you didn't know she was here." It was a statement, rhetorical based on both Bradley's reaction and yours. She reached out and gently took his cover from his hands and set it beside him, wanting his attention fully on her. "She's family to me, Bradley. She's my kid's favorite person. I don't want to get involved here, but if you hurt her again..." she trailed off, the threat gentle but clear.

He raised his head and met her eyes for the first time, glad to hear that you hadn't completely isolated yourself in his absence. "Yes ma'am." He gave a sharp nod, years of military training and being raised by Carole showing through. "I never wanted to hurt her in the first place."

"But you did. Now you have to fix it." She confirmed what he had already been thinking, standing and sliding the chair back to the table she had pulled it from, content that she had gotten her point across to him. Since her husband had left her a few years earlier, she had gotten a lot closer with you, accepting your help with Amelia when she needed it.

Rooster stood as well, running a hand through his wavy hair and mussing it a bit unintentionally. "How do I do that? I don't even know if I'm gonna see her again."

"You will," Penny assured him, looking over her shoulder as she finished collecting bottles and glasses from around the bar. She knew when he reported for his first day at TOP GUN, your office would be one of the first stops, as all the new pilots had to undergo a psych eval before they could officially start training. "And when you do, take it slow. Don't push her. She's had too many people betray her trust. Don't be one she has to add to the list." The again at the end of the sentence went unsaid.

He took the warning to heart, picking up a few bottles himself and carrying them to the bar for Penny. "Thanks. It was nice seeing you.”

"You too, kid," she offered a warm smile. Pulling the rest of the bottles he brought her across the bar, she pointed a finger at him in warning. "And if you wanna fight, next time take it outside."

"Yes ma'am," he repeated, returning her easy smile as he headed for the door, making sure it was closed securely behind him as she was alone inside. He let a ragged sigh escape as he looked around the empty parking lot, the weight of the night's events settling on his shoulders. Rooster had come to TOP GUN focused, prepared to graduate first in his class, and seeing you had thrown him for a loop. Heading for his Bronco, he climbed in and headed back to base knowing that he needed to get his head on straight before training started, no matter how difficult that would be.

Chapter Three

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

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dckweed · 5 months

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NEXT THING YOU KNOW, gator tillman

in which gator tillman and his arranged bride figure out life and each other and what a real relationship means to them.

warnings: mentions and depictions of abuse, mentions of bruises, arranged marriages, romance, humor, dead parents, slow burn relationship (not completely but not not), basically we know the tillman men are asswipes so i 100% see Roy forcing gator into this kind of situation for money for his militia, eventual smut with kinks such as thigh riding, gun play, choking, spanking, lots of marking and possible spit play.

series masterlist here, series playlist here.

special mention to my girly @xxbookdrunkdemigodxx for listening to my rambles and helping me out with the playlist!

PART TWO: the ride

True to his word, Gator had become your friend. The first couple days of the week passed with the two of you holed up in the house together, pretending to work on the wedding planning even though neither of you knew what the hell you were doing. You kept to the upstairs living room, wanting to stay as far away from Boyd as you possibly could, still angry at him for the whole situation and not wanting to cross paths with him again for as long as you could, your stomach still hurting under the fabric of your shirt from the lashing you had been given from Boyd’s belt as soon as the Tillman’s had left the morning of their first visit. Three times he had hit you, the leather of the belt welting your skin through the thin fabric of the dress you had been wearing. That was typical Boyd, always harsh and quick, and always on parts of your body that were easily hidden by clothes. It had been that way since your mother had married him, though you had kept it a secret from her due to the fear he had built in your brain about what he would do to her if you told her. You didn’t dare tell Gator either, not sure if you really trusted him with that secret quite yet, and definitely not sure of what would happen if Boyd found out. You didn’t want anymore drama than there already was in this god forsaken house.

You liked Gator well enough, he was easy conversation, a little dense in some areas but what he lacked in that he made up for in humor and the willingness to at least listen to you explain. The two of you talked about plenty of things but mostly school and whether or not either of you had been seeing anyone before you had been forced into your godawful situation. You weren’t sure if you were reading his face right, but for some reason you thought that he looked rather pleased when you said that you hadn’t ever exclusively dated anyone, strictly forbidden by Boyd. You learned that he had only ever had one serious girlfriend in his life, in the last years of highschool, though she had taken off to some fancy school on the east coast when they had graduated and he never heard from her again. You could see the swirl of emotions in his big brown eyes, and the way his mouth tensed as he spoke. He shook his head and changed the topic a moment later, picking up one of the magazines laid out on the ornate coffee table in front of the two you and asking what the hell the difference between Ivory and White was and why did it matter so much which shade your dress was.

Those first two days were rather pleasant, you found yourself awfully comfortable in his presence, relaxed even, and the next day when he didn’t show up just after breakfast, you had to admit you were a little disappointed, but you got about your business none the less, trying not to dwell on it. He’s a Sheriff’s Deputy, you reminded yourself, he wont have time to talk to you twenty four seven..and then you kicked yourself for even feeling upset about not having his attention for the day. You’d known him for four whole days, what the hell was wrong with you?

He texted you around lunch time.

Gator: sorry for not being able to help today, even though i know im not much help to begin with..i’m on duty for 24hrs

You were slightly giddy and that made you slightly disgusted with yourself, you barely knew this dude and you were being essentially coerced into marrying him, what the hell is wrong with you?

You: you wont miss much, promise! Be safe out there..

You felt like that was the stupidest response you could have possibly sent, but oh well. You weren’t wrong though, he wouldn’t miss much. The day was mostly spent in the upstairs living room, sprawled on the couch as you called the bakery in town to schedule a tasting for next weekend, and the local bridal boutique to schedule a showing for this weekend..afterwards you spent the next few hours sorting through different styles of wedding dresses you thought you would like, sparing no expense on designers because if you were being forced to do this damn thing, then Boyd was certainly going to pay the fucking price one way or another. And then after you had spent as long as you could doing that, you begrudgingly made your way down the stairs, you had dragged your feet long enough on the girls’ dresses for the wedding, and if you picked them out without their fathers input, you feared you would face another lashing.

You hesitated outside of his office door, taking a deep breath before raising your fist, knocking once, twice, before he gave you the okay to come in. He’s seated at his annoyingly large desk and just barely glances up at you from whatever paperwork he’s doing as you step into the room, closing the door behind you like he liked. “Ah, i was just about to send for you,” He says, setting down his pen as you step closer and closer to his desk, your magazines heavy in your hands. “Sheriff Tillman has requested that the ride with you be moved up to tomorrow morning, his wife has to go out of town this weekend and he’s decided to go with her.” You hum in acknowledgement and he notices your laden arms. “Whatever do you have there?”

How could he speak to you so calmly? As if you weren’t sporting the markings of his rage on your skin? “I’m going to the bridal boutique this weekend, and I want to get the girls' dresses while I'm there, I thought maybe you’d like to help pick them out..” You say gingerly, he seemed to be in a good mood but you could never be too sure with him.

He nods once, pushing whatever he was working on to the side. “Alright, let's see it.”

You give a small smile, slightly relieved as you start setting some of the magazines in front of him. “These are some that I liked, but there’s a few more that I wasn’t sure about. Gator and I decided on a purple and green theme, pastel, summer colors..” You prattel nervously, leaning over to show him the styles that you particularly thought were pretty. He hums, glancing up at you over the rim of his glasses as you settle the magazines in front of them.

“And how are things going with the boy?” He asks, inspecting the pages you had dog eared.

You were rather taken aback by the question, you hadn’t really known him long enough to know how things were going, let alone marry the poor dude, but yet, here you were, planning a wedding. “They’re okay..he’s funny..” You shrug, not quite sure how to proceed. “He’s working today, but he was here the past couple of days to help..” You weren’t sure why you were telling the man, it's not like he didn’t already know who came and went in his house.

Boyd hums and the office falls silent for nearly an hour. You’re about to excuse yourself, let him look at them alone so you can get the hell out of there and go eat some lunch or tack up Bubbles for a ride when he speaks up. “I like these ones best, i’m sure the girls will look lovely..” He says, handing you one of the first magazines you had handed him. You have a quiet breath of relief, but roll your eyes subconsciously, annoyed that he had taken that long. You start grabbing things as quickly as you can, itching to get away from him. “I’ll open up the limit on your credit card, spare no expense.” Are the last words he says, you hum in response and walk out of the office quickly, leaning against the door as you close it behind you.

You’re up before the sun the following morning, your alarm clock bleating around four. You were awake well before it though, your thoughts on a never ending loop. You honestly weren’t even sure if you slept and sighed in annoyance when you trudged your way to your bathroom and noticed the dark bags under your eyes. How were you supposed to sleep? Your life was about to be tethered to someone else’s in a few short weeks, two months wasn’t that much time and you didn’t know this boy for shit. Sure, you guys were on friendly terms at the very least but..marriage? Why had you signed those damned papers? Why did you let him talk you into it?

Shaking the thought from your head you turn the handle on your sink, letting the water run as you went about your skincare business. You’re dressed in less than half an hour, spending a few minutes at your vanity table to swipe some makeup under your eyes, an old habit you had picked up when you lived here full time before boarding school. You figured it wouldn’t take long before the sleepless nights would start again, and you couldn’t help but to wonder if they would be any better when you were with Gator.

Gator..

He had never texted you again yesterday, though you had sent him a few messages throughout the day, and even late in the night just to keep your own sanity. Telling him how much Boyd irritated you, telling him that he needed the next weekend free for cake tasting because you didn’t want to choose something he didn’t like, telling him you were bored..sending him a pouty faced selfie when you noticed he had opened but not responded to any of your messages (that he had also opened and never responded to).

You realized your fiance was a horrible texter and you were going to have to fix that, if you were going to be friends then he needed to at least respond to one of your messages, even if they were annoying.

By four-forty-five you’ve pulled out of the driveway and are off down the main entrance of Boyd’s ranch, your jeep pulling the horse trailer with Bubbles inside of it with ease. Thankfully one of the ranch hands had woken up earlier than you (he had always been friendly towards you, and it was deeply appreciated because most of Boyds employees treated you like shit too) and attached the trailer to your car and loaded up your horde for you. You even found your saddle and other things in the back of the Jeep when you peeked in to look, surprised that your horse had even been loaded for you.

You made a mental note to thank the man when you got home.

The drive to the Tillman Ranch isn’t too long, hell, they were practically your fucking neighbors. You were so focused on survival when you were on the ranch that you had never paid attention to lands that surrounded you. When you arrive at the gate, your headlights shining on the metal and the dirt beyond it, two ranch hands are already there, pulling open the heavy iron for you.

“Thank you!” You half shout, rolling down your window. The one on your drivers side nods once, tipping his hat at you and proceeds to tell you to follow the road towards the house and barn, he would be right behind you to help you unload. You’re surprised when the Sheriff is already waiting for you when you pull up near the barn. You see him on the porch of his house, arms crossed over his chest and hat perched low on his head and your stomach tightens, your hands shake. If you’re late and he tells Boyd, you’re done for, is all you can think as you slide your key out of the ignition and hop down from your seat, your boots kicking up dust.

“Mornin’ Miss Augastine!” His voice carries out from the porch, the sun is only just now starting to rise, a dark glow low in the horizon. You breathe in and walk around your car, up to the porch. “Wasn’t expecting you for another hour or so..” You breathe out. “Interest you in some coffee? Breakfast? Karen just put away my breakfast but I’m sure she’d be more than happy to get something going for you.”

You paint the smile on your face, your morning having been ruined by your brief panic attack. “No, Sir..thank you for the offer, but I was thinking I would go get breakfast with Gator this morning, or an early lunch..” You knew he was probably on his way home by now, and you had the sense that he would probably only sleep for a few hours.

He hums as he meets you at the foot of the porch, staring down at you from the bottom step. Your cheeks flush and you look anywhere but at him as his eyes rake over your body. You hear him mutter something akin to ‘pretty little thing’ under his breath, but you knew you weren’t supposed to hear it so you pretend not to. You were dressed for a casual ride, blue jeans that fit tight in all the right places but loose on your legs, draped over your brown and pink leather boots, and you wore a pink short sleeved polo shirt, the buttons undone enough to show just the hint of cleavage that was sexy enough to keep men entertained but innocent enough to not get you in trouble. You had your own cowboy hat pulled down over your hair, resting comfortably on your head.

“He’s not home yet.” Is all he says when you mention his son, his tone cool and slightly unfriendly. You furrow your brow, wondering why there was the sudden change in demeanor when it came to his boy. “That your show horse?” He steps down off the porch, and you look up to him still, the man being much taller than you even on even ground.

“She’s for more than just show, Sir..” You say playfully, a smile on your face as you happily lead him over to the trailer. He helps you lead her out of the trailer, admiring her with you and then leads you on a slow walk to the barn.

He seems kind, but you know its more for show than anything. You soak it up though, letting him open the barn doors for you even though you’re more than capable of doing it yourself, and you let him lead you into a stall near the back of the barn so you can leave Bubbles and go get the rest of your stuff to tack up. After a few more minutes of talking the two of you separate, you going off to your jeep, and he going off towards his horse to tack up.

As you step out of the barn the sun has risen just a little bit more, and you hear a car pulling up next to yours. “What are you doin’ here?” His voice holds a tinge of familiar nervousness to it, and you can’t help but to soften up for it. He’d gotten out of his squad car before he’d even turned the damn thing off, the radio still on. Your breath caught as your eyes took in his uniform, he sure is somethin to fuckin’ look at, you said to yourself, swallowing back wicked thoughts. “Thought you weren’t doin’ this til the weekend?”

“Plans changed.” You shrug, not really sure what else to say. You figured he of all people would have known that his dad was going out of town this weekend. “He’s in the barn.” Brown eyes dart behind you and then back to you, looking you over. “Want to go get lunch or somethin’ later?”

He sighs, running a hand down his face, shoulders relaxing. “Yeah..yeah lets get lunch later..”He says, turning on his heel. You shake your head, going to grab your saddle out of your car, just as you’re stepping around the front of it you hear him again. “I got it, Pearlie..” You sigh, but not from annoyance as he lifts it out of your grasp. You liked the way your name sounded when he said it, like it meant something and nothing all at the same time. You shake your head, feeling silly for the thought and follow him.

Roy is headed out of the other side of the barn just as you follow Gator in. “Mornin’ dad.” He says, voice a hard and cold tone.

The older man already mounted in his saddle merely tips his hat at his son, but gives you a friendly smile. “Miss Pearl, I’ll be outside when you’re ready.” He says as if there’s no rush, but you know from his sons body language that there most likely is.

Gator’s shoulders are tense and you know it’s not from the weight of the heavy leather saddle he’s carrying. You rush in front of him to open the stall door, trying to be helpful, and you can see the pinched look on his face, the coldness in his big brown eyes. He lifts the saddle up and sets over Bubbles, who stands perfectly for him. He turns his hat backwards and you just about melt into the hay strewn floor, who knew that stupid things like a man you’re engaged to turning his hat backwards could be so damn hot? He doesn’t say a word as he starts fastening the gear in place, like he’s done it a thousand times before.

It only hits you just then that he probably has done it a thousand times before, his father clearly loved the animals, why wouldn’t he teach his son how to tack up and mount?

“You didn’t have to do that for me, Gator..” You say softly as he finishes. He only shrugs and straightens up, patting Bubbles on the belly gently as he does. “Thank you..” You whisper as you walk past him, grabbing the horn of her saddle so you could pull yourself up.

Just as you’re about to put a boot in the stirrups you feel his chest against your back, the smell of whatever it is he smokes encompassing you as he grabs your hips firmly and lifts with ease. “Good?” He asks, watching you settle into the saddle. You nod once, hoping your hair and hat are doing a good enough job of hiding the flush on your cheeks and neck, not having expected such a display of obvious strength. “Good..off you go then..” He holds the stall open for you and you ease Bubbles out of it, just as you start to walk past him you feel his hand on your calf. He’s looking up at you with an expression you’re not familiar with on his face, and it makes you worry. “Be careful with him.” It comes out as more of a statement, but you can hear the pleading behind it, and it makes you worry even more, a slurry of questions forming in your mind. “..please?”

“Okay..” You say. He lets you go and you don’t question farther, spurring Bubbles to follow out the way you had seen Roy going with his own horse. “Hey Gator?” You look over your shoulder at him, he has his hands on his hips. “Go take a nap the bags under your eyes are bigger than the ones in my closet!” You laugh as you leave him behind you, and you swear you can hear him chuckling too.

The ride starts off in silence, you and Roy side by side as he took you on the scenic route through the ranch. You had to say that you really didn’t know much about the Tillman’s, you wouldn’t know how to start off the conversation even if you had wanted to, and you truly didn’t want to, not with Gator’s pleading words lingering in the back of your mind.

The ranch really is beautiful, especially in the early starts of the summer, the rolling hills are green, and you can see where they have more cattle off in the distance. It’s a calming atmosphere, more relaxed than life was on the Augastine ranch.

“How’s my son been?” His voice is deep and rough, startles you for a moment. You turn to look at him, adjusting your hat in the glare of the sun. “He bein’ nice?” Nice didn’t sound like a word that was normally in Sheriff Tillman’s vocabulary, you wanted to point it out, the smart mouthed bitch in you raring at the thought but you thought of what Gator had said, and then you thought of Boyd and your still aching ribs and thought better of it.

“He’s been sweet.” You say, offering a small smile, the warmth of the sun hitting the skin of your face. “Real helpful with the wedding plans..he’s taking me to lunch after this too..” You say, rambling nervously. “Oh, before I forget, did he ever ask you about the twins being in the wedding?”

Roy shakes his head at you, pursing his lips. “I don’t recall a conversation..Karen would have mentioned it to me i’m sure..” You notice his hands tighten on his reins and you furrow your brows at it.

“Oh, he probably just forgot is all.” You chuckle, wanting it to stay light hearted. Truly, you had never even asked him to ask anything about the girls and you hoped you weren’t about to get him in trouble because of your small fib..you just wanted to change the topic to something more neutral. “I’m going to the bridal shop this weekend to look for my dress, and I already have dresses picked out for my sisters but I was wondering if you’d like me to pick out dresses for the twins as well? I would absolutely love to have them in the ceremony..they could be my flower girls, or hold my train…” Your sisters were already taking the spots as your bridesmaids, you didn’t have a choice in that matter. Gator had three of his best friends stepping in as groomsmen and you only had one friend coming to the wedding, and she was going to be your maid of honor.

“I think that’s a lovely idea, Miss Pearl.” He says and for a moment, everything is silent again as he hums a tune you’re not familiar. “Matter of fact..” You glance over at him again. “Karen and I are leaving to go out of town tonight, we’ll be gone through the weekend..we were planning to take the girls with us, but I’m wondering if you want to take them with to the Bridal shop if you want them fitted for dresses? Karen and I would love the alone time, of course if you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on them with Gator for the weekend?” You wanted to protest, but, you realized that it was probably a good excuse to get yourself out of Boyd’s house for a few days, and just the thought sounded heavenly, even if it meant carting around your fiance’s sisters and playing house with him.

“You know what, Sheriff Tillman,” You say, giving him your dazzling, people pleasing smile, the kind that had man many a guy weak in the knees back at boarding school. “That sounds like a fantastic weekend, i’d love to get to know my new little sisters better, you and Karen go have fun on your little trip! Me and Gator can handle things!”

He gives you an easy smile in return. “Well alright then.” He says, and then nudges you with his knee from his horse. “And please, little lady, call me Roy.” He gives you a wink that sends unpleasant shivers down your spine and you giggle politely in return.

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jaemified · 5 months

Text

last christmas | part 2

“this year, to save me from tears ; ill give it to someone special.”

❆ pairing ; strangers to ?? park gunwook x fem reader

❆ genre ; fluff, slight drama +(ft taesan/jaehyun of bnd and yunjin of lsrfm ^^)

❆ warnings ; swearing, and kinda toxic relationships

❆ wordcount ; 2.4k

❆ synopsis ; beginning your second year of college and you feel youve hit rock bottom. on your own after your ex kicked you out, and taking on a seasonal job at a christmas shop to pay off student loans? everythings gone to shit. but then, you see him for the first time. and you realize there really was a little light in the darkness — your someone special.

♡ kona speaks ! - vaguely follows the plot of the film last christmas (2 part story)

read below the cut !

you cant say you were all to proud of yourself now.

sure, you were a pretty incredible student by high school graduation, with a 3.9 gpa and all (not to mention making it to seoul national university with your beloved boyfriend).

but, that was a year ago.

who wouldve thought it was possible for your life to go so far downhill, in just a span of roughly over 12 months?

your parents had found a better job opportunity in london, but your mom wanted you and your brother to be nearby.

meaning doing so without running it by you of course, which led to her enrolling you into imperial college as a foreign transfer student.

your boyfriend was pretty upset, but nevertheless, followed you despite your best efforts telling him not to (which meant him forfeiting his scholarship at snu).

once your family first heard he would follow suit to london, they gave you an ultimatum. and stupidly, you chose love over family.

they never approved of him anyway.

it was fine for the meanwhile.

at least until you broke up, and he decided to place the blame on you.

it was your flat you bought with your own money anyway. what did he ever do for you? how dare he kick you out of your own home!

you watched while gyuvin pulled your luggage out the closet, pushing it towards you.

“what the hell are you doing!” you exclaimed as he began to pull your clothes off hangers and throw them towards your direction.

“helping you leave.” he muttered.

“what did i even do? you just wake up one day and decide its my fault you followed me to another continent despite me saying you shouldnt? i told you not to leave your dreams behind, and you chose to ignore me!”

“well maybe you didnt try hard enough! i just know that i dont feel the same about you now as i did then.”

“so thats it?” you scoffed. “you realize this is my apartment? i pay the rent. you just practically live here for free. you cant just kick me out of my own home!”

he only ignored you and shoved piles upon piles of clothing into 2 separate suitcases, before gently escorting you to the door.

“gyuvin. gyuv! kim gyuvin! you cant just leave me here!” you begged.

“im sorry y/n. but its over. maybe if you hadnt taken all that mattered to me we couldve worked out.” gyuvin spoke before slowly closing the door, leaving you out in the cold wearing only pajamas.

“what the fuck am i supposed to do now..” you whispered to yourself, thinking of the only possible places to go.

sure your number of options was minimal, but you began with the only person you thought you could count on anyway.

“what the hell are you doing here?” taesan expressed in shock while he stared at you standing at his front door.

“need somewhere to crash.. surprise?” you shrugged jokingly, trying to lighten the mood as you and your brother werent on the brightest terms.

“goodbye y/n.” he sighed as he turned to lock you out.

“han taesan you let me in this instant! you cant just leave me to die in the middle winter!” you exclaimed, stepping through the door frame so it couldnt close.

“wheres gyuvin?” he scoffed. “i mean, youre the one who left me with mom and dad to buy a house for him anyway.”

“we broke up. blamed me and said i was the reason he lost everything in seoul or whatever. and he still kicked me out of MY home.”

taesan let out a heavy breath, looking around before pushing the door out more for you to walk through.

“..you mean it?” you pondered hesitantly.

“i suppose. i know we warned you about him and all, but youre still my baby sister.” he half heartedly grinned, pointing his head in the direction of his hallway as a gesture for you to come in.

you knew he was still mad at you despite not showing it, but knowing your brother, hes still someone who you could rely on in any situation.

“yeah. and uh- just a heads up, i still live with jaehyun and leehan, plus we dont have an extra room so.. we’ll just figure it out later.”

“thank you.”

a week later and you were doing better than before. though it wasnt easy to forget the incident, you still managed with the new living situation and all.

you woke up bright and early the following morning for work, ready to sell christmas ornaments for the rest of your life under your boss, huh yunjin, as you were now on break from school.

considering jaehyuns bed wasnt all too comfortable, you still slept pretty well. youre grateful he took the couch for you during that first week. ‘maybe ill get him something as a thank you.’

“what are you doing up so early?” taesan asked, holding off on the toast he was about to eat as he watched you rush downstairs.

“got work. not like dads willing to pay student loans anymore right?”

“the christmas shop, still?” jaehyun asked from his seat on the couch.”

“cant have a full time job as a full time student. it just worked out while im on christmas break.”

your brother nudged you in your stomach, motioning for you to thank his friend for his deed.

“-oh and thanks for taking the couch. i owe you. if you want food or anything ill cover the cost and pick it up in return.” you continued.

“its fine. i get it, the last few days were rough. dont worry about it.” he smiled.

after a quick 10ish (or so) minute walk to the street side store you worked at, you realized you were about 5 minutes past the time you were meant to clock in for your shift.

walking into the store, it was no surprise it was already crowded by 8:36am seeing as christmas was 2 weeks away now.

“y/n! y/n get over here! where is your uniform?” yunjin questioned as more of a whisper yell.

before you got the chance to reply, she quickly cut you off and said, “nevermind that. just please hurry to change and come help me with all these people!”

you wave off her dismissive behavior, and speed walk to the bathroom, making sure to pass the lockers to grab your uniform on the way.

“i forgot how itchy this was..” you grumble as you slip on the ugly elf costume yet again before leaving to the front desk.

“welcome in! please let us know if theres anything you need help with!” yunjin smiled as another person walks through the door, putting on her customer service voice.

“guess you dont need me anymore?” you asked jokingly, noticing there was no one within a 10 foot distance of the check out line.

“why must you take so long to change? i only had enough time to help half those people. the other half left after mr smith came in to return all the ornaments he broke again. he really knows how to hold up a line.” she sighed, moving in the direction of a huge box of broken material.

“you cant keep letting them return damaged product. we are losing enough money as is, santa.” you gestured to her new character change yet again as you realize where a good chunk of the budget went. “what was wrong with the reindeer costume?”

“it didnt make it clear that im the owner. the shop is called santas workshop dont you know? cant call it santas workshop if theres no santa.”

you laughed brightly at yunjin while she picked up the box to bring it to the back, just as another person walked in.

“welcome in!-” you call out, before cutting yourself off as you caught a glimpse of his face.

he was pretty gorgeous, you couldnt lie. from what you noticed, he had shortish black hair and big eyes to compliment his soft lips (not to mention his build was pretty insane too. he definitely works out).

the very same guy who caught your attention came to you shortly after, seeking some assistance on picking a gift, so you were happy to comply.

“im not sure what she’d like. its hard shopping for a 14 year old.” he said.

“what’s your relation to her? just like so i know how close you are so its easier to help.”

“my younger cousin. we arent that close, but its our first family gathering in a while and my mom wants me to get something for everyone. but shes always been.. far from an open book. so im lost”

you thought long and hard about what your cousins around that age like, before coming to a final decision.

you attempt to reach for the legos, but you almost fall over as it was just barely out of reach, sitting on one of the higher shelves.

carefully, he steadies you by holding your arm and reaches to grab the item you were aiming at.

“this?” the guy questions as he hands you the orchid lego set.

“yeah! im not sure if it suites her or anything but you cant go wrong with legos. the price isnt too bad and its suitable for anyone at any age for the most part.” you shrugged.

“that actually.. makes perfect sense. youre really good at your job, no? thank you.”

“no worries. if theres anything else i could help you with, weve got a new selection of stuffed animals your girlfriend might like.” you spoke like it was nothing, acting as if you werent just trying to get information.

“i actually.. dont..i don’t have a girlfriend.” he chuckled awkwardly as he brought up a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“oh really? im surprised someone like you doesnt have a pretty girl on your arm.” you said nonchalantly while you attempted to hide your smile (as if you were going to make a move).

“oh stop!” he waved off when you pointed out how red his ears were getting, assuming you only were trying to boast his ego (hes so unaware)((please get the hint)).

you walk back with him to the register so he could pay after realizing there wasnt much more he needed. “that’ll be 45 charged to your card.” you smiled.

“thank you, ms..?” trailing off as he notices he never actually got your name.

“han. y/n han. glad to be of assistance.”

“oh and- one more thing?”

“sure, what else?”

“what time does the store close?”

“10 at night. extended business hours every saturday.”

“surely youre joking? theres no one else here but you and the owner! thats in like 13 hours. youre working a 14 hour shift?”

“yeah but i get paid way extra so its fine, i really do need it. and yeah we are beyond understaffed but its alright.” you laugh, masking your exhaustion and dread with a bit of your lighthearted energy.

“really? i could never, must be so tiring.”

“it is, beyond imagination. but we do what we can.”

“get home safely then alright? its scary leaving that late especially considering the predators go after pretty ladies.”

“youre a tricky one arent you! how dare you mask that as an attempt to flirt.” you gasp playfully, “ill be fine, its not that far of a walk.”

“walk? youre not really walking home are you?” “well yeah, its not like i can drive when i dont have a car myself.”

“by any chance, might you need-”

“y/n! leave the poor man alone! i need you to stock the shelves in the ornaments section!” yunjin calls out from the storage room and interrupting the conversation.

“ill get to it.” you call back.

“well, i should get going then. it really was lovely meeting you.” he smiles.

“thank you, take care!” you reply, waving as he leaves.

it only hit you many hours later (quite literally an hour before you clock out) that you never got his name, and you regret it oh so much!

even yunjin felt pity for you, multitasking and listening to you ramble about the mysterious man despite all the work she had going on whilst you both sat in her office seeing as there were no customers beyond 9:30pm.

“why cant we close early if theres no one coming past a certain time? its not like anyone needs to be christmas shopping at.. 9:49 at night.”

“its just in case theres anyone who needs something, we cant miss a chance to make more money when we’re low on rent money.” she reminded.

“its only 11 minutes though.”

“and where do you have to be in 11 minutes? you live with your brother and his two roommates with no boyfriend and instead worry about a man you just met.”

“ouch, you need to go out more.”

“y/n you know i love you but i have no time for that nonsense. i need to have fun, yes, but money is essential. clubbing and drinking does not get you there, we both know that.”

finally, the dreaded 11 minutes were up and it was time to lock up after a crazy long shift. though, you cant say you were looking forward to walking home after standing in heels all day.

it was all most as if your prayers were answered (or just by a really strange coincidence(?)) that someone on a motorcycle stopped in front of you as you crossing the street.

“heard you needed a ride?” the guy from earlier said as he took off his helmet.

“what are you doing here? its late out.” you replied, acting calm as if your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest.

“cant leave you to walk alone in the dark, can i, pretty lady?”

“youre smart, ill give you that.” you smile when you feel your cheeks go hot.

“ill take you home. come on.”

maybe it wasnt the best idea to give a stranger your address, but he seemed nice enough, and pretty trustworthy to say the least.

you sat behind him as he drove through the streets, with your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest flush against his back as you wore the helmet he let you borrow.

he was so naturally warm you felt his body heat through the sweater he wore, thankfully keeping you from being to cold.

soon enough you were home, and he was walking you up to the front door.

“thank you for today even if it wasnt all that much, i had a lot of fun. you made my work day more.. bearable.” you smiled.

“of course, you can always call if you need a ride or anything. dont want you getting sick when its storm season.” he reminded before slipping you a postcard with his number on it.

“id love to get to know you more, but i just broke up with my boyfriend last week.. give me some time?”

sure you technically were the one who found him attractive first but, you never actually thought about initiating something more.

he smiled without a second thought, nodding his head slightly. “of course, i understand. just know ill be here, waiting.”

“wait! i never got your name?”

“ill see you later y/n!” he called out as he left, driving off in the opposite direction.

you sighed and unlocked the door with the spare key leehan gave you, and notice him sitting next to jaehyun when you walked in.

“you have a boyfriend and you didnt tell me? how could you! i thought we were friends.” leehan expressed dramatically from the couch as you took off your shoes at the door.

“not a boyfriend, just a friend. why were you even- whatever. wheres taesan?”

“in the bathroom.”

“thanks. uh- jaehyun is it okay if i change in your room since i left my clothes there?”

“go ahead.” he reassured. “oh! also, by the time you come back the pizza we ordered should be here too.”

you close the door behind you and pull out the index card from earlier to save the number as a contact. however, you couldnt help but smile as you read what it said below.

“your personal uber when you need it! +44 28xxx0xx29 -xoxo gunwook park :)”

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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Am I the asshole for not telling a guy his gf cheated on him with me?

When I (ftm) was 14, I met this girl S (at the time f16). We became friends and at 16 I started crushing on her. She had a boyfriend C (m, same age as her) though, so I mostly suppressed it. She flirted with me, but I dismissed it as part of her personality.

Her relationship, to put it simply, was super toxic. Most of that was her fault. There were rumors of her cheating on, and threatening to cheat on, her bf. Being her friend I ignored them, but now know they were true. She talked a lot about not liking C, wanting to break up with him, even hating him. I tried to get her to break up with him, or at least talk to him. She said she would but never did, at one point even saying she kept him so she would have someone complimenting and giving her attention.

This summer I got back from camp and S told me she finally broke up with C. I was really relieved, and while we were hanging out we started flirting and eventually hooked up. We texted a lot after that, until she mentioned going on a date with C. I asked when they had gotten back together and she said they never broke up, she just overreacted to a fight.

I felt super betrayed and stopped talking to her. Not only had she lied to me, it was my first time and I felt she had ruined what was supposed to be special.

I had not talked to her since (she graduated) until I saw her and C. She’s taking a gap year and he’s a senior, so she was with him at a school event. I had assumed they would have broken up by now but they’re still together. She acted like the summer never happened and said hi, and I just left as quickly as I could. But now I feel like I should have told C what happened. Before I just figured they would be broken up, so there was no point, but since they are he should know. But it was months ago, and he already knows she had cheated in the past, so it might be rude to bring it up now to him, especially as we aren’t friends.

Im feeling guilty but I don’t want to interfere even more in their relationship, or bring up old drama when he seems to already know what she’s like. Am I the asshole for not telling him?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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thesharktanksdriver · 1 year

Text

Pen Pal (Platonic)

Part 1 part 2 part 3 Part 4

Y’all asked for Konig and y’all have received

This probably isn’t how people thought the initial meeting would go but I decided to shake it up a bit

Cause I like being silly goofy like that

I’m planning to soon do something with shadow company and have that lead into the main story of modern warfare 2 so be prepared

(Y’all can tell I’ve started watching Nana)

high school is shit

That was something you remember clear as day. The reason as to why is much more complicated than the reaction

Perhaps is was due to the people, petty drama, bad teachers, the time or place but in general high school just generally wasn’t the best

You went their for basically nothing in the end since you enlisted as quick as you could

But if there was one thing high school did for you it was helping you find one good friend

It was during English class that your teach had the idea of giving everyone a slightly different school project

She got in contact with her brother (who if you remember correctly was in the military abroad) and had him help her set up a pen pal program

Simply put, she gave everyone an assigned soldier to write to abroad

Fun right?

For others it was a chore but for you it was something that had changed your direction in life

The first letters were slightly awkward as expected. You were a young and dumb teen and this was someone who had likely killed men with his bear hands

But after a while you began to enjoy the days in which your reach would deliver mail to the class

He didn’t tell you his real name for safety reason but he did tell you his call sign “könig” German for “king”

He’s from Austria, enjoys mundane things like baking and reading

Particularly books like pride and prejudice and The hobbit which leads to you both giving each other recommendations

It feels nice writing to him, talking about your problems to a neutral source who gives you the best advice he can

Though he talks of the horrors he’s seen there’s a certain sense of pride in his words as he talks of being a protector

of people like you

At some point during those letters it became more than just talking to a stranger, you both had become friends despite never meeting

As the initial project comes to a close you keep sending him letters and he always responds back

At this point you began to open up about your life just as he does the same

König talks of his childhood. Being the lone child whom the others bullied, called a monster due to his highly

How it lead to his already bad social anxiety to become worse as their words cut him down from a mountain to a grain of sand

In turn you told him of your childhood, your fears and anxieties since you didn’t know what to do with your life

The constant pressure to succeed in a world that was against you since the start

The loneliness you felt on a constant basis despite the facade of a smile you out on

During this duration you didn’t tell him of your plan to enlist

You knew he’d be upset, be angry at the mere thought of putting your life on the line

With each letter you place little stickers and glitter inside as a fun surprise for him

At one point even getting a wax seal of a crown that you used gold and black wax on your letter from there on out

As the end of the year rears it’s ugly head into view, and as you prepare for graduation and prom you decided to add a new little surprise in one of your letters

Whatever König had expected it certainly was a little Polaroid of you smiling back at him

On the back of it addressed “to my Hero”

The letter is a thank you note, heartfelt and pure. He even sees small tear marks now dried up on the yellowed and soft paper

Old pressed flowers (Edelweiss specifically) packed into it just as his Oma did for her scrapbooks like he had mentioned months ago

He cries while reading it, your words forever ending up ingrained in his mind every time he went into the battlefield

It made him remember why his job was so important

To serve, and most importantly to protect people like you

He keeps one of those dried Edelweiss in his pocket for good luck and keeps that letter and Polaroid locked away safely

You continued to mail to him even after joining, you end up lying to him about getting a normal job and now just being busy

He mails them to your home address and you have your landlord mail it to you at base

Your lie continues on…until 141 teams up with the private military contractor “Kortac” for a mission

König never told you who he was working for so you initially didn’t think much of it

In fact you were kinda annoyed to be dragged by Ghost to a stuffy meeting room to meet these guys

Like why meet people in this stuffy room?, why not take them around base? Or literally anywhere else

Oh well, at least you get to spin around in the spiny office chairs

And then the group comes in

You stop spinning, eyes now looking over the men who are sitting down expect for the one in a sniper hood

He’s tall, like really tall, tall enough that he has to bend over to ever get through the frame of the doorway

Damn…you wish you had the height when Price would place your shit on the highest shelf. It would save you a lot of times you climbed stuff to reach it

He continues to stand there, staring at you making you feel a bit uncomfortable under his gaze

Ghost notices this and glances at your and then at him. He sends a glare but the guy doesn’t even notice

“Oi König!, you alright?” One of his teammates asked disrupting him from his thoughts

Now it’s your turn to be left staring, mouth agape as terror fills

Uh oh

As Price talks with the captain and chatter fills the room he’s still staring and Ghost notices how your still uncomfortable

You turn to him asking to leave the room as you glance back at König

He’s hesitant but trusts you so he nods, not before grabbing your wrist and adding “if he causes you any problems he’ll for me aight?”

You nod and leave the room

König following after and into the silent halls of the base

To say he’s angry is an understatement, he’s fucking pissed

Your lucky you took him far enough away from the room or else they’d hear him yelling in furious German

And it’s German so it makes him sound even more pissed off and scary than he already is

At some point he takes a step forward and tries to place a hand on your shoulder and you flinch back

He freezes, now seeing your teary eyes as you stare up at him. Their glassy almost like the eyes of old porcelain dolls he’d see in antique stores

He takes a step back, his mind now clearing up as he finally asks “why?”

“Why enlist?, do all of this?. You had a bright future ahead of you” he sounds defeated as he says this, hands shaking as he adds “was it because of me you joined?!, I never wanted that for you. You shouldn’t have to throw Aw-“

“König it was my choice so don’t you dare start blaming yourself for this. I never had a future in the first place, I had no fucking clue what to do with my life and this was the only thing that came to mind. I joined because I thought for once I could do something good with my life, to help others like you do”

He goes silent after that, your almost convinced for a moment that he’s a statue

And then he crumbles like a ancient monument meant to last

He hold you as if your made of glass, his friend who he was fighting for is now on the battlefield just like him

And like when you sent that letter thanking him he cries

You just hold him, now realizing you had a much tighter grip on his life than you had expected

You always thought that he probably saw you as annoying or just a fun little acquaintance but you realize you were much more than that

You were his friend, a true and honest to god friend

Safe to say after that König is basically hovering at your side kinda like how Ghost does on missions

Just a silent looming form as you giggle and watch TikTok’s, everyone else in the room wondering if you even notice him behind you

You do, and you even show him the ones you have on your saved

Ghost is concerned from how you went from being afraid to now having him trail you like a puppy

Even after you explain what happened he’s still giving König the side eye

Due to his social anxiety you help König out while around base, talking for him when the words choke up in his mouth and generally being there to give him the boost of confidence he needs when talking to others

Having social anxiety doesn’t mean the same thing as being shy so you go about helping make sure he isn’t overwhelmed by people and social situations

When he does feel like there’s too many people for him to handle you take him out the room and to a quiet place for him to breath

He’s a big gentle giant (with you at least)

Definitely thinks it’s funny when he picks you up by the back of your vest like a kitten, even more so when you kick and complain

Everyone does a double take when they see you literally climb him to reach the top shelf for something

Scary giant and small menace

When you find out he can’t be a sniper due to his height you take him out the the gun range and have him snipe for you

At some point he probably teaches you a few German phrases for fun, he finds it cute when you try out a word (pronounce it horribly) but look to his for approval

You now do the “no! Little German boy don’t-“ meme and he’s really confused cause he’s Austrian and not German

You steal one of his shirts for fun (he actually left it out for you to steal since he saw you eyeing it) and it completely drowns you

Like it’s going to your knees or passing it

Gaz and him actually get along pretty well after you introduce them to one another

One time Price, Soap and Ghost walked in on you and Gaz forming a circle around him and walked out

You fucking cackle when he angrily yells in German,

A good example of this so when he stubs his toe and scared the crap out of Price when it sounds like you and soap successfully summoned a demon after pulling out the Barbie ouija board he banned for a reason

He finds it really heartwarming you’ve kept all the letter he sent to you like he did with yours

Legit thinks your code name sums you up pretty well

Sometimes you stick those little stickers that have motivational messages onto him

He always smiles when he finds them

Ghost eventually comes around and the two train together

People make bets one which giant is gonna win, and you get a share of these bets cause everyone goes to you to ask and you say you’ll give it to them for a fee

His animal cross island is so aesthetically pleasing, like your not sure how long he’s spent on this but he’s spent on it but it’s really cute

You call him “Koni” and he calls you “ankle biter” in German but tells you it means something else

Probably threatens people in German if they came weird comments and when you ask hims about it he’s all “oh it was nothing, they just asked for directions” and then gives them a death stare

He’s surprisingly confident while on the field which is a complete contrast to his rather quiet and anxious manner outside of it

You make him watch anime with you, for the love of god don’t show him Nana cause he will sob so hard

Just stick to slice of life or fluffy range stuff unless you want him hugging you like a stuffed animal and crying into your shoulder for an hour

If he’s around when you have a nightmare he ends up kinda holding you and mumbling phrases in a mix of English and German

he eventually gets really bummed out and anxious that he and Kortac has to leave soon

He finds himself becoming more spacey as you ramble on about the day

You notice of course, knowing the reason why so you don’t bring it up in case of upsetting him

As time ticks by you spend days making memories with him and the team, he finds himself becoming closer with 141 than with the people he’s actually teammates with

On that last night before he leaves you spend it with him, Soap, Gaz, Ghost and Price bundled up in your room watching movies

He doesn’t fall asleep that night, you and Gaz are the only ones who do in the end

When he leaves that next morning you hug him goodbye and give him your phone number and address

“Now you can text me whenever and if you have time off you can drop by. I’ll still send letters for old times sake though”

He smiles beneath his hood, you can see from how his eyes crinkle ever so slightly

#platonic #modern warfare x reader #sharky y/n #konig x reader

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thatlovinfeelin · 11 months

Text

Half a Heart - One - Jake Hangman Seresin

Blaire Montgomery moved away from all she ever knew at eighteen to conceal a secret. Now nearly fourteen years later, her secret is finally out of the bag when her and her thirteen year old daughter, Lucy, quite literally run into Jake Seresin, young Lucy's father. All three lives are forever changed due to one fateful encounter, and two hearts are once again made whole.

Blaire Montgomery walked along the street, hand in hand with her daughter, laughing at a joke that the young teenager just told. Together, they made their way across the board walk of Virginia Beach, towards their intended lunch destination.

“Mama, just once, you really should try it.”

“Nope, not going to happen Lulu.”

The younger girl, Lucy or Lulu, just frowned, but continued walking alongside her mother. They were best friends, maybe something stronger than that. Blaire was just a child herself, not even nineteen when she had Lucy. They grew up together, making their bond stronger than anyone could ever really understand.

Lucy didn’t know who her father was, and probably never would. Blaire was counting on never seeing the man again. Which seemed funny, considering they lived in a military dominated area. But she never imagined that the man would be stationed here.

She was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant, just after graduation. There was no way she could tell the father, not when he was planning on being so much more than just the small town boy he was. She didn’t want to hold him back, she couldn’t be the reason he never saw his dreams come true. So she lied to him and broke up with him. Blaire even went as far as moving shortly after, so he would never know.

Her own family didn’t know who fathered her beautiful little girl, though she was sure they had their ideas. She would never confirm or deny them, only changing the subject whenever they asked. It helped that she hadn’t heard from him in nearly fourteen years too.

She grew up, she moved on. Going on a few casual dates here and there, but never anything serious. It was hard to be serious with someone when she had Lulu to look after. Even now that she was old enough to be left home alone and take care of herself, it was hard. Blaire couldn’t really think about bringing any man home who wasn’t the man she gave her heart to all of those years ago.

Because the truth was, she might have broken up with him, but she never really got her whole heart back.

“I’m staaaaarrrrvinnnggg,” Lulu said, dramatically dragging out the word.

“Which is why we’re going to get lunch before we keep shopping,” Blaire reminded her daughter, “C’mon, just a few more minutes.”

“I’m going to die before we get there,” Lulu whined, “Die of starvation. Wither away to nothing right in front of you.”

“God, how did you get so dramatic?” Blaire questioned, “I swear I was never this bad when I was your age.”

They rounded the corner, restaurant now in sight and Lulu let out a loud sigh and tugged her mother along faster. They were seated almost instantly, making Lucy extremely happy. They ordered appetizers and fell into a comfortable conversation about school.

Lucy was in middle school now, which seemed almost impossible to Blaire. It was hard for her to realize that her daughter was growing into a fine young woman and was almost an adult of sorts.

“So Liam Mackey tried to ask me out yesterday,” Lulu said, taking a bite of a mozzarella stick.

Blaire had to keep herself from choking on her water, “Oh really? What did you say?”

She was hoping her daughter said no. She wasn’t ready to deal with dating yet. Middle school drama was one thing, but boyfriends and heartbreaks were something else entirely and Blaire might just have a heart attack if she had to navigate that part of parenting right now.

“I told him no, obviously,” Lulu rolled her eyes, “He asked out Marlee Parks two days ago, I’m not some sloppy second choice.”

Letting out a deep breath, Blaire reached for her water again and took a large gulp, “Well…good for you for knowing your worth.”

“Liar. You’re thrilled you don’t have to deal with me having a boyfriend yet,” Lucy teased.

“You’re right,” She sighed, “So no dating till you’re thirty, okay?”

“What about you? You’re like thirty and you aren’t going on dates.”

“Okay don’t make me ground you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Lucy countered, sticking out her tongue.

Blaire sighed again, knowing her daughter was right. She wouldn’t ground her. Blaire wasn’t one to ground or really punish her daughter at all. Not to say that she didn’t when she had to. But she hated every minute of it.

When their food came, Lucy wasted no time digging in and eating every bite she could. Blaire almost had to laugh. Her daughter loved food, so much it was almost comical in fact. She was like her father in that regard, the man could eat like no one else. No one except maybe his daughter.

“We’re still going shopping, right?” She questioned.

“Yes, we’ll go shopping after lunch,” Blaire laughed.

“Good,” Lulu smiled before taking another bite.

“Slow down before you choke, honey.”

Lulu made a face and continued to wolf down her food. Blaire couldn’t do anything but laugh at her little girl. Her sweet daughter. It was hard for her to come to terms with the fact that soon enough she would start really asking questions about her father.

So far she’d been able to dodge any question Lucy asked about him. Somehow, it had been easy to lie to her. But Blaire knew that time would soon be over, and she would have to tell her daughter the truth sooner or later. Which meant finding him and telling him the truth too.

They both deserved to know. Blaire knew that. But the thought of them knowing made her chest hurt. She couldn’t imagine the look on his face when he found out, she didn’t want to imagine it really. But she knew that time was running out.

“C’mon kiddo,” Blaire said, putting money down on the table, “Let’s get going.”

They were hand in hand again on their way out, when Blaire ran into a strong body. She stumbled back. The man in front of her reached out, catching her arms to steady her for a moment.

“Mom, you okay?” Lucy grabbed ahold of her mom too.

“I’m fine honey,” Blaire replied, giving her daughter a small smile.

“Blaire?” The man questioned, eyes widening.

His head spun, the little girl, who wasn’t so little, called her mom. Which meant if this was Blaire, she had a daughter. A teenager by the look of it. He swallowed hard. He knew those eyes, because they were his own.

“Holy shit.”

“Mom?” Lucy questioned before looking between her mom and the man.

She saw it then, the way her eyes matched his. How they had the same cock to their head. Lucy was a smart girl, maybe too smart for her own good. She could see it in the way her mother looked between her and the man. In the way her mom held onto her hand even tighter. Lucy couldn’t help it, she was staring into the eyes of her father, and it seemed like he didn’t quite know it himself.

“Holy fuckin shit,” Lucy mumbled.

“Lucielle Grace!” Blaire hissed.

But then it was his turn, staring into the face of the girl who looked just like him, and the woman he loved more than life itself, “Holy shit.”

That made three. Mother, Father, and daughter, all stunned to be in one another’s presence at long last.

In a panic, the second she heard the man speak her name, sounding so broken and shocked, she grabbed her daughter and pulled her out of the restaurant, not stopping to look back.

He followed them of course, forgetting the lunch date he had. He would apologize to his old friend later. This was more important, this was Blaire. His Blaire. The one girl he could never get out of his head. The one that he still carried a photo of whenever he flew. Because she was his, even if she broke his heart almost fourteen years ago.

"Blaire!" He called, trying to catch up with her.

She slowed when she saw her car come into view. He would catch them there and then there would be no more running away. She licked her lips and stopped, grabbing her daughter's other hand.

"I need you to go wait in the car," She told Lulu, not looking away from her green eyes.

"Mom who is that guy?" Lucy was worried that he was some creep, here to try to hurt her mom.

Maybe he was one of the Tinder dates gone wrong. The ones that Blaire always seemed to be too quiet after she came home from them. Or maybe he was one of the good dates that Blaire blew off because of Lucy, because she was too scared to bring anyone else into their lives.

"Please Lu, go wait in the car," Blaire begged, "It's okay, I promise."

The man was getting closer, almost reaching them when Lucy finally agreed and made her way to the older 4runner parked in a far space under a tree.

Blaire only had a moment before he was on her, grabbing her shoulder to gently turn her around. She didn't force herself to look up at him, knowing she wouldn't be able to handle the look in his eyes when she did.

He was always much smarter than he liked to let on, he had to have put the pieces together. He had to know that he was just staring into the face of his daughter.

God...his daughter. Even thinking it made Blaire shiver. This was never supposed to happen. That's why she moved to Virginia, far enough away from Annapolis or Texas.

"It's you," He breathed out, holding her at arm's length, "God, Blaire, it's really you."

She keeps her eyes tightly closed, too afraid to open them. She want to look at him though, she's aching to see the man he's become. How much he's changed from the boy she once knew. But she still can't bring herself. She can't even speak.

"Say something, please," he begs her, bending down to try to catch her eye.

"Jake," She breathes out, almost like a sigh. It cuts him to the bone to hear her say his name again.

"Who was the girl?" He asks, even though he somehow already knows exactly who she was.

Her eyes open now, looking up to meet the same green eyes that her daughter has. His brows were furrowed in the exact same way, just like the way he was cocking his head to the side. They were so alike and yet they never officially met.

She swallowed the thick lump growing in her throat, "That was my daughter."

He breathes out, like he'd been kicked square in the gut, "She had my eyes."

That's all he could think to say. Because every time he blinked he kept seeing her looking up at him with the eyes that mirrored his own. The same way he had his mother's eyes, and she had her mother's eyes. There was no denying there was some semblance between the two.

"Jake-"

"Blaire," he said urgently, "She had my eyes."

"I don't-"

"How old is she?" He asks, taking a step forward.

"Thirteen," Blaire nearly winces as she says it.

He does the math in his head. It'd been nearly fourteen years since they last saw one another. She broke up with him out of the blue and moved away weeks later, never to be heard from by any of the Seresins again. Now here she is with a thirteen year old who looked just like her, aside from small little details. Like how she had freckles dotting her nose, just like Jake and his sister's had when they were younger.

"Is she mine?" He asks her, almost afraid of the answer.

"Jake, please," She begs so quietly.

"Blaire, is she mine?" He asks again.

She licks her dry lips and tried to gather the courage. This was never meant to happen. She was never supposed to see him again, and he was never supposed to know about having a child. Jake Seresin was supposed to go about his life without her tying him down with a little girl. But it seemed like fate had other ideas

"Yes."

#jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin imagine #top gun hangman #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #hangman imagine #jake hangman fic #hangman angst #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin series #top gun #top gun maverick #hangman top gun

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ukrfeminism · 2 years

Text

Rebecca Whitehurst never wants to set foot in a school again.

She also wants all teachers, especially female ones, to wear bodycams, to have CCTV in every classroom and for teachers to operate in pairs. “I think teachers should never be alone with children, there should always be someone else there. I know it is dramatic but I don’t want what happened to me to ever happen to anyone else,” she said.

The views of Whitehurst, who is married with two children and has been a modern languages teacher for more than ten years, have been shaped by what she describes as a “modern horror story”.

Last week the 46-year-old wept as a jury at Manchester’s Minshull Street crown court cleared her of two charges of sexual activity with a child and one of sexual communications. She had been accused of a sexual act with a 15-year-old pupil in the back of her Volvo and of sending him explicit texts, including a photograph of her breasts.

The court heard that the teenager, who had declared he was in love with Whitehurst, became obsessed with her and lied about or faked the messages. The boy, who watched pornography involving older women, assaulted her in her classroom and sent an abusive message to her daughter, the court was told.

The family spent £43,000 fighting the case, which dragged on for three years. If convicted she would have faced up to 14 years’ in jail.

Speaking from her home in Cheshire where her husband, Billy, an accountant, has “been unbelievably supportive”, she said her experience at times felt like a television drama.

It unfolded against the backdrop of a rising number of schoolboys watching online pornography, and pupils’ mental health becoming a frontline problem for many schools.

Last year, an Ofsted report found 90 per cent of girls and 50 per cent of boys polled by the schools inspectorate said they had been sent explicit pictures and messages they did not wish to see. A survey for the British Board of Film Classification last year found that almost half of 16 and 17-year-olds had recently seen pornography. Figures from NHS Digital found that one in six children in England had a probable mental health disorder last year, up from one in nine in 2017.

Whitehurst’s ordeal started in April 2019. The boys’ school where she taught French, German and Spanish had paid for her to attend a three-day course on mindfulness. She was asked to teach the subject — not to lower the stress of high-achieving children in the run-up to exams, which she had suggested, but to children on the inclusion register, who have special educational needs and disabilities. “I said yes because I am that sort of person,” the Sheffield University graduate said, but admitted to being nervous about teaching a “wishy washy” subject to children who may have experienced significant trauma.

In an early session with the group of ten boys the 15-year-old who would go on to accuse her said he was hearing voices in his head telling him to kill someone. “I thought OMG,” she said. “As soon as I could I reported it on our safeguarding system . . . I reported it on there and thought someone would talk to me about it, but no one did.”

As the sessions continued the teenager “latched” onto Whitehurst, who tried to give him “sensible advice” via the school’s email system.

He talked about being in a gang and, in an area of the city linked to the Manchester bomber, Whitehurst also feared he was at risk of getting involved in terrorism. When he started to talk about how he had “this big secret” and she was the only person he could tell it to, she made, she admits, a critical mistake.

“He had said he wants to kill people and is in a gang,” she said. “He was talking about going to the mosque. All these things were adding up in my head. I thought there was a bigger picture and I would find out about it and report it.

“I tried to get him to talk to staff who were better trained in such matters but he said no. He said he did not trust the school email which we were already communicating on. In one email thread he emailed me a ghost emoji and I realised he meant he wanted to tell me the secret on Snapchat. I downloaded Snapchat on purpose because I thought he was going to give me this big secret.”

Whitehurst said the secret was nothing to do with terrorism: “The secret was he was in love with me. I realised I had made an idiot of myself. I told him nothing like that was ever going to happen and there had been a misunderstanding. I told him I had to tell the school. He would say ‘they are not going to believe you’ and that I had made a mistake in giving him my Snapchat username. I should have reported it but I did not and I know now that that was an error.”

A few weeks later the teenager came into Whitehurst’s classroom when she was alone. He tried to force his tongue into her mouth, touched her intimately, slapped her face and spat at her. She tried to push him away, which he told the court he thought was encouragement.

“I do not think he knew how bad it was what he did; I know porn was available to him, he sent me lots of links which I never opened but I have an idea of what he watched,” she said. “I think he thought slapping me and spitting at me was sexy in some way.” Again, she did not report the assault. Whitehurst admits she was scared and also “again I thought I would be held responsible as I am the adult and he is the child”, but from then on things got steadily worse.

Over the coming weeks he gave her a necklace and sent naked images of himself which she deleted. He “begged” her to meet him outside school. Still worried about his state of mind, she met him several times in public places, including at a charity run she was doing in a Manchester park where she thought there was no risk of him “launching himself at her”.

At school Whitehurst volunteered for extra duties to ensure she was not alone. She applied for jobs in other schools.

In September 2019 she broke down in the playground when a colleague asked her if she was OK: “I said no and blurted it all out. She said she would have to take this to the head teacher.”

Whitehurst agreed with the head teacher that the matter would be reported to the police and the local authority safeguarding officer and that she would be suspended pending an inquiry. “My logic was, they will understand,” she said. “They will know he is difficult and that I wanted to help but mismanaged things.”

Whitehurst was shocked in her first police interview, two months later, when she heard that the boy had accused her of having sexual activity with him and sending him photos of her breasts.

The pandemic meant that the investigation dragged on. She did not hear anything until last year when police said they had downloaded data from both the phones, including a screenshot of a fake text conversation in whch she appeared to be suggesting sexual acts with the teenager outdoors.

“I thought, ‘I never sent those’. They did not look right. They were obviously fake. The language did not add up. I did not need a professor of linguistics to say that was not me,” she said.

“It was extraordinary that what he said was believed and I was not. He said it was consensual. And we were in love.

“I kept thinking the police will look at all this properly, tell me this will be dropped and say, ‘You poor woman’.”

As it became clear that the case would go to court Whitehurst switched lawyers. Her new team instructed an expert witness to look at the downloaded data from both phones. His report — which cost the family £8,000 — made clear there was no evidence that a photo of her breasts or a text suggesting outdoor sex acts had been sent by her or received by the teenager. Still the case was not dropped.

A week before court, Whitehurst says “calm descended”. She decided not to wear a face mask or hide her face and be “as brave as I could be”.

By video link the teenager gave contradictory evidence and admitted the assault on Whitehurst. The jury took less than three hours to acquit her.

Whitehurst’s case may be extreme but it is not isolated. There is a website on which teachers share dozens of accounts of false allegations. Teaching unions called last year for pupils who make them to be excluded and for fully funded mental health programmes aimed at boys.

Christian Harbinson of the law firm Thompsons solicitors, which represented Whitehurst, said: “An underfunded criminal justice system is unable to cope and that stretches out the agony for innocent people like Rebecca. It’s taken almost three years, since the allegations were first made, for her to clear her name, during which time Rebecca’s life has been on hold and her family have had to deal with an unimaginable level of stress and worry.”

Asked whether the teenager, now 18, would face an inquiry for possible criminal offences, Greater Manchester police said it had no intention to investigate “the child victim in this case”.

1K notes · View notes

cielie-voss · 4 months

Note

Hey there!

Stumbled across your blog and fell in love with your Eddie Fics! 😍

If you're still taking request, I'd like to request something Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, where Reader works at a bar or cafe and Eddie is on tour with Corroded coffin and meets her at work. She doesn't believe that he's a rockstar and thinks he just wants to impress her until one day, she accepts his silly pickup lines and goes on a date with him.

If you don't like this, it's totally fine. Hope you have some peaceful holidays (and a very unmerry Christmas, absolutely loved this!)

Rockstar!Eddie x fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I hope you like it! I just wanted to write something short and simple (ha, jokes on me, short and simple seems to be something not possible for me). I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: Rockstar AU, Fluff, bad pickup lines, idiots in love, mutual pining, Reader is a writer, some petnames, takes place in the 90's. Wordcount: ~8k ("something short and simple") Summary: After some crazy years of university stress, heartbreaks, family problems and the wrong kind of friends, Y/N decided to take a year to discover herself, figure out her dreams and wishes. With her newfound freedom she just wanted to do some Minijobs and travel the world. No university stressing her with exams, no annoying family who's trying to tell her what to do, no backstabbing friends, and most importantly: no dating and no more heartaches. But boy oh boy, she could've never been more wrong. Taglist: @violetmiroh If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗 Masterlist

Finally.

After years of stress and torture you finally found some freedom. You successfully graduated college with your major in literature, ready to enter the real world. And that’s not the only thing you had to master throughout the past years.

“Why don’t you study something useful? Maybe business administration? Or marketing?” Your parents had perfected the game of making your life a living hell. Literature was something useless for them. Something where you would never get a real job. But you wanted nothing less than to write. Write about everything. Poems. Dramas. Novels. You wanted to tell the world about the little stories in your mind. But writing wasn’t a job. At least in your parents opinion.

“Did you meet a nice guy? At least some guy that likes girls who can’t get their noses out of these damn books? Any friends other than Tolkien or Poe?” God, these people are so ignorant. Everytime you visited your family or called them, your mother had another blind date arranged for you.

“You remember Daron? Yeah, the Daron you went to elementary school with. His fiancée cheated on him, you know? He’s such a nice and handsome guy. Why don’t you call him? Wouldn’t it be sweet if you guys meet again after years?” No, mom, that wouldn’t be sweet.

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I asked Fred and his mother to come over for lunch. You remember Fred, right? He used to tease you back in middle school. You know what they say: lovers like to tease each other!” You were glad your mother turned away from you as you were rolling your eyes dramatically. Laughing at her own ridiculous joke, she turned to Fred and his mother.

To be honest, your dating life was just as miserable as it could be. Even without your mothers help. And not because of what you were studying or your interests, like your mother said. Or because of your casual and comfy style or mostly reserved and introverted personality. Your heartaches and frustration with the male gender was mostly due to their immature behavior.

Over the years you experienced nearly all sorts of failed romances. Caught them cheating, being ghosted, unknowingly ended up as a one night stand, being the affair, constant fighting, being rejected and creepy mothers who tried to arrange a wedding after two weeks of going out or guys with a special relationship to their mothers. Some weird Norman Bates kind of relationship. There was even one guy, whom you really liked, that sadly turned out to be gay.

“Why did you have to move so far away?” Well, this one is self-explanatory.

“At least you could call us every second day.” Thanks, but no thank you. You didn’t want to give them another way of terrorizing you with their unrealistic ideas and expectations.

All you wanted was to live your life the way you wanted to, and not how they wanted your life to be. No parents, no stress, and most important: no dating. Just you.

So after you graduated and broke up with the seemingly most perfect guy, who turned out to be a rotten liar and the most unfaithful piece of shit, who didn’t just cheated on you multiple times, but also stole your hard earned money, you decided to take a year off to travel around the world, to find yourself. You sold your car and the stuff you wouldn’t need anymore and with that money, you started your journey.

On your trip you’ve seen the probably most beautiful cities and met even more wonderful people. To afford your stay you worked from time to time in little cafés and lovely bars. In exchange for room and board you worked as a temporary worker on farms. In your free time you sat down and wrote. The people and landscapes were so inspiring, you filled one notebook after another with short stories, poems and even started to work on something that might be your first novel. Every now and then you sent your works to different agencies and participated in writing competitions, improved your writing and earned some reputation for your works.

London was the city you stayed the longest. You stayed with a lovely family, the Bakers, who owned a little pub in the outskirts of London. They treated you like family, like a family you never had but always wished for. You helped them with their household, tutored the kids after school and worked downstairs at the pub in the evening.

When you had a day off, you’d usually sit down at the bar, a pint of ale in front of you, pen in hand. The words seemed to flow right out of your pen, as natural as breathing.

You could’ve never wished for a better time. The Bakers treated you like a daughter they never had, and even the regulars at the pub treated you like one of the Bakers. Between lovely drunken blue-collar workers, who loved to tell their stories and sing their work songs, you felt somehow at home, you felt safe and came out of your shell. With each day you became more extroverted, literally flourishing and bristling with self-confidence.

And it was in that pub where you met the guy in Jean's vest who stood out like a sore thumb in this scenery. From behind the bar you couldn't help but notice how his leg bounced up and down like a nervous child. After some minutes you decided to help him calm down a bit.

“Are you waiting for your date?” With a warm smile you looked down on him.

“Huh?” As if you pulled him out of a trance, he winced and looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. You huffed at his reaction and sat down the pint in front of him.

“I asked, if you’re waiting for your date to show up.” The smile remained on your lips as you looked into his big brown puppy eyes. His eyes darted to the pint you just gently shoved towards him.

“Don’t worry, that’s on the house.” You assured him.

“Thanks, uh … “ Again, like he was in a trance-like state, he shakes his head and looks back at you. “My name’s Eddie.” He reached his hand out to you and you shook it. You noticed the unusual rings that adorned his fingers and the little bats that were tattooed on his forearm. He obviously didn’t belong here.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N.”

There was something in the way he looked at you that you couldn't identify. So after a short moment of awkward silence you took a sharp breath in, pulled your lips into a thin smile and said “Anyway, let me know if I could do anything for you. And good luck with that date.” You gave him a wink and turned back to your bar to serve the regulars who are now, bit by bit, rolling along.

As the hours ticked by and the bar settled into its usual hustle and bustle, you found yourself repeatedly returning your gaze to Eddie. Something about his appearance had a mesmerizing effect on you. And there was no way you could say what it was that captivated you.

Slowly he began to warm up a bit, engaged in conversations with some other guests, but without further notice, he also caught himself repeatedly trying to catch a glimpse of you.

“Make sure he gets home safe!”, you called out to the cabbie, a lovely man named Barnaby, after you accompanied a slightly drunk Tommy outside to the cab.

“Y/N, my dearest!” Tommy slurred after you handed him over into Barnaby’s hands. “One day, I promise, I will introduce you to my son! I’ll gladly take you as my daughter-in-law!”

“Go home and sober up, then we’ll see!”, you laughed and waved the drunk redhead, with a face glowing as red as his hair, goodbye.

“Isn’t she just the most loveliest person on earth?” Tommy asked, now turned to Barnaby, who was just smiling and nodding in approval.

Quietly grinning to yourself you closed the door and headed back to the bar. It was already past midnight, the pub slowly became quieter until Eddie was the only one sitting there, his ringed fingers wrapped around his emptied glass.

“I guess it’s time to kindly tell me to fuck off, isn’t it?” You had to admit that Eddie’s puppy eyes made you soft.

You cocked your head and with an apologetical expression you nodded. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie just shrugged, a sheepish smile playing around his lips as he carefully slid the glass towards you.

“It’s okay. I’m glad I had the chance to be stood up and get you as my substitute-date.” He got up from the old, shrieking bench, winked at you and left the bar.

“Keep the change, Y/N my dearest!”, he chanted.

Only now did you look down at the glass and saw the bills peeking out from underneath. You wanted to shout out to him “Eddie, I think you made a mistake!”, but he was gone and left you with this lavish tip.

For a moment you stood there, stunned by this man, before Mr. Baker could pull you back to reality. “C’mon Y/N, it’s late, go to bed and get some sleep.” You turned around to face him, the human version of a teddybear, looking down at you with a knowing smile. You quickly took care of closing out the register before stuffing Eddie's tip into the big tip jar.

“No, no, no. You keep that.” Mr. Baker pulled out the bills and handed them over to you. “It’s yours.” And before you had the chance to protest, he patted your shoulder and gently pushed you towards the door that leads to the family’s private apartment.

You tried to find some sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, you saw this lovely smile and these big round puppy eyes. God damnit! Why did he have to be so cute?

The next morning you pulled out your notebook, after multiple failed attempts to fall back asleep again. Maybe some writing would banish this handsome face out of your mind that kept you awake. But jokes on you!

Your mind always wandered back to this guy, his messy hair, the sloppy smile, the tattoos on his arm, his big, brown eyes … It was enough to drive you up the wall. So instead of accidentally turning the love interest in your little fantasy romance into a copy of Eddie, you put down your writing stuff, took a deep breath and left your room.

When you entered the small kitchen, Penelope Baker, who everyone called Poppy, already waited for you with a knowing smirk dancing around her thin lips.

“Good morning, lovely.”, she chirped, her words underlined with a cheeky undertone that made you stop mid motion. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion and cocked your head before you let yourself down on your chair.

“Good morning.”, you answered with a skeptical frown.

“Coffee?” As if nothing had happened, Poppy offered you the coffee pot. With a nod you cued her to pour the steaming hot liquid in your cup. You thanked her and wrapped your hands around the cup to warm yourself a bit. The smell of this freshly grounded coffee filled your nose and was already enough to wake up your still sleepy mind.

Just as you thought Poppys previous smirk was just another one of her quirky habits and meant nothing, her voice turned into that typical ‘I’m your mother and know exactly what’s going on’-tone as she said “So Theodore told me about that guy last night.”

For a split second you froze, then let out a sighed “Oh my god.”

“What? Teddy said he seemed to like you. Oh lord, isn’t that adorable? A young, handsome, mysterious guy showing up, unexpectedly sweeping this young lady off her feet.” In a dramatic motion she clutched her hands to her chest and jumped out of her chair.

“Oh, young love! I would give anything to feel like this again in my old days.” As if she was dancing with the ghost of a long lost lover, she seemingly floated through the small kitchen.

With a frustrated sigh you buried your face in your hands. Your grumbled “Oh my god” was more embarrassed this time.

“But you do know I’m right here, my love?”, Theodore coaxed, as he leaned back in his chair and watched his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Tz, I’m not talking about you, Teddy.”, she waved him off.

Sensing the upcoming argument, even if it’s not meant seriously, you grabbed your cup of coffee and sneaked out of the kitchen. “Okay. I guess that’s my cue to leave you two alone.”

The rest of the day you spent with Nathan and Ethan, helping them with their homework. You haven’t met a lot of twins in your life so far, but you never met twins that were so different from each other than Nathan and Ethan, which made tutoring them a real challenge. But sitting between these bickering boys was still a better alternative than being ribbed about Eddie by Teddy and Poppy.

Since it was your day off and you couldn’t focus on your writing upstairs in your little room, you went down into the pub earlier than usual. Your hopes were high that the hustle and bustle around you would distract your mind a bit so you could focus on your writing.

The first few sentences had a hard time coming out. But after you got back into your flow the words came out on their own. That was until you noticed a brown haired figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Aw, did you miss me?”, you leered and leaned back to face Eddie with a smug grin. “Or do you wanna give your date a second chance?”

“Well, actually,” Eddie declared, nonchalantly dropping into the seat opposite you, “I was just trying to get away from some of these pushy fangirls, you know?”

As if he was discussing the weather, he leaned back, fingers tapping a casual rhythm on the table. “Yeah, sure. Clingy fans,” you joked, closing your notebook and using the pen as a bookmark.

“Listen, being a rockstar isn’t easy when you’re smoking hot like me,” he explained, a self-assured chuckle escaping him as he tilted his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor.

You disappeared behind the bar and met a very amused looking Mister Baker.

With furrowed brows, you leaned to your side in an attempt to peer through one of the beautiful stained glass windows. Eddie followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a puzzled expression after trying in vain to discern what had caught your attention.

"What?" he inquired, reverting to the shy and nervous behavior from yesterday.

You couldn't contain the giggles bubbling out of your chest as you leaned back and faced Eddie again. "Nothing. I was just trying to get a glimpse of all those fangirls you escaped from."

"Oh, great, you're making fun of me," Eddie stated, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, Eddie. You're trying to convince me you're a rockstar." You waited for a response, anticipating another remark about his alleged status as a musician, but were met with a sulky Eddie instead.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Mister Rockstar," you apologized playfully. "How about a drink? My treat."

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered in an exaggerated pouty manner.

“Don’t you dare say a single word!”, you hissed to the man and to emphasize your statement, you raised a warning finger. Still grinning, he playfully raised his hand, mimicking the action of locking up his lips with an imaginary key.

You poured beer into two pints and placed one of them in front of Eddie.

“Cheers.” With your glass raised for a toast, you added “Let’s start over again. Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His eyes darted between you and his beer until he eventually gave in. “Hi Y/N, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.” As you clinked glasses you locked eyes, which unexpectedly sparked something inside of you. Something you couldn’t quite explain, but it felt unexpectedly good.

For the rest of the evening, your intention to continue with your manuscript was completely forgotten and replaced by the desire to talk to Eddie for hours. He asked about your notebook and after you told him that you were about to write a novel, you found yourself in a lively conversation about your favorite authors with him.

You talked about Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, George Orwell, Virginia Woolf for hours without noticing how late it was getting. There was this spark between you and him that ignited a fire within your soul, a fire that became bigger and bigger the more you talked about your interests. And when you spoke, his eyes were literally glued to your lips. You’ve never felt more comfortable in your life than in this exact moment, talking to a stranger about your biggest passion and your dreams to publish your first fantasy novel.

A few more beers followed, Teddy even brought you some snacks. Then Eddie told you about the DnD campaigns he planned and plotted years ago with his friends, his love for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit and assured you that he’ll be the first one to buy your book. When you told him, you never had the chance to play DnD, because you never really had that kind of friends, something flashed in his eyes.

“You never played DnD?" Eddie's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as if your statement had personally offended his very existence. "Oh, what a shame! Okay, you know what?” His elbows crashed onto the table, and he leaned in so close that you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze. His soft eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination. “I, Eddie Munson, promise you, Y/N Y/L/N, that I’ll introduce you to the world of DnD one day.” With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he dramatically raised his pinkie for a solemn pinkie promise, an act you sealed with your own pinkie.

“Alright, deal.”, you whispered, absolutely mesmerized by the guy you just met yesterday.

“Deal.” He repeated solemnly.

“Okay, you lovebirds.” Mister Baker's voice interrupted your promise, pulling your attention back to reality. The pub around you was empty and the chairs were already put back on the tables. “I’m really sorry, but my wife will kill me if I don’t close the pub soon.”

With your face blushing with shame you quickly leaned back into your seat and looked away. How embarrassing that must have been to watch. Like you were teenagers again.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a look at the clock. “Oh, shit, yeah. I should go now, my friends are surely wondering where I am. Goodnight, Y/N.” He paused for a moment to look at you one last time before he left the pub in a hurry.

The looks both Mr Baker and Mrs Baker gave you were unequivocally. But in your opinion, they were reading something into your casual conversation with Eddie. Something you didn’t seem to perceive.

The next few days, Eddie found himself inexplicably pulled to that charming little pub, his heart fluttering with excitement every time he spotted your Y/H/C hair behind the bar through the stained glass windows. Without fail, he made his way there each evening, armed with a new and absurd excuse. Sneaking up behind you, he would unleash the most cringe-worthy pickup lines, each one more outrageous than the last. You'd heard your fair share of cheesy pickup lines over the years, but none had ever elicited the same blend of blushes and giggles that Eddie's managed to. It was as if you both had regressed to the age of twelve, sharing a playful banter that was both bad and yet undeniably funny.

As you brought his first pint of beer for the evening, you found him crouched forward in his seat, his face twisted in an exaggerated expression of pain. Concern etched on your face, and with furrowed brows you asked, “Everything's okay, Eddie?” To which he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you." This unexpectedly caught you off guard, and despite your efforts to suppress them, snickers escaped you, filling the air with shared laughter.

Another very stressful evening, when you passed him with a full tray of empty glasses, he said “Hey, Y/N, you dropped something!”

“Huh?” You promptly came to standstill, the glasses clinking at the abrupt stop, and tried to figure out what you had dropped. But after you couldn’t find a damn thing and slowly became somewhat desperate, you noticed Eddie's lopsided smile. He seemed to be biting back his laughter as he quipped, “My jaw”, and brought that lovely smile of yours back to your lips with this poor attempt at flirting with you.

One evening, you were seated at the bar, leisurely sipping your coke, when Eddie stealthily approached from behind. Gently placing his hands around your waist, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You know, with all these secret rendezvous with you, I feel like I’m a spy or something. Hidden identities, clandestine meetings, just you and me, and no one knows about this, far away from the public.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and retorted, "Oh, please. You're not James Bond, Eddie."

He chuckled, "I may not be James Bond, but I am a famed rockstar by night.” To make sure no one heard him, he looked left and right, then turned back to you. “Shh, it's a secret!", he whispered and winked at you.

After releasing you, his warm hands leaving a lingering sensation, you sighed and turned your barstool to face him. For a fleeting moment, your gaze flickered to his slightly parted lips, now curled into a smug grin. Looking back into his eyes, you cocked your head and, absolutely unimpressed, countered, "Yeah. Nice try, buddy. You're not fooling anyone with that."

By now, your jokes about him allegedly being a rockstar didn’t seem bother him anymore. No. Instead he chimed in on your jokes, complained about clingy fangirls, unreliable sound engineers, the bad food during their tour. And you laughed at his jokes, thinking he was trying to impress you.

You could’ve sworn he must have heard your heart beating heavily in your chest when, with his hand resting on the counter behind you for support, Eddie leaned forward, nearly brushing your cheek. Just inches away from your face, the sensation of his breath on your skin caused a shudder to run through your body. If you would have tried to stand up, you suspected your legs would give way, as your body inexplicably turned to jelly in the mere proximity of him.

Eddie flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying, can you? But it seems like it doesn’t necessarily need a secret agent or rockstar to sweep you off your feet, right?" His coarse voice, barely above a whisper, was vibrating in his chest. Chuckling, he leaned back, feigning nonchalance, though a subtle twinkle in his eye hinted at the amusement behind his teasing attempt. As his face, and lips, were outside the danger zone, you noticed that you were straining holding your breath for what felt like an eternity.

“How was your date?” Poppy asked teasingly as you came upstairs one evening. Eddie brought you his copy of The Hobbit and some flowers he picked from some front yard that reminded him of you. The pub was very crowded that evening, so you two decided to just chill in the backyard, counting stars and eating the cookies he brought.

“That was not a date.”, you declared and rolled your eyes.

“Oh. Of course. No date. I understand. Like the other not-a-dates you two had the last couple nights, right?” Poppy winked at you knowingly. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, so you turned away and took care of the dirty dishes.

One day Eddie came to the pub earlier than usual. The pub wasn’t even open yet. Shaking from the nervousness that filled his body, he paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the pub. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was all nervous and excited like this. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, as he waited for you to come down after he rang the doorbell.

“Okay Eddie. Breath in-” He took a deep breath in, “- breath out.” His breath was shaking. And since his attempt at calming himself down didn’t quite have the effect he wished for, he took a long drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke that had at least a little soothing effect on his nerves.

“Eddie?” The sudden sound of your voice made him jump, causing you to smile. You stuck your head out of a window and looked down on him.

“Hey, Y/N!”, he greeted you. All of a sudden the words he already laid out in his head vanished into thin air.

“I … Y/N would you … I mean …” Eddie closed his eyes, took another deep breath and gathered his courage. “Would you like to go out with me? Tonight?” With furrowed brows he looked up to you. His heart nearly jumped out his chest as the words left his lips.

“You mean like a date?” The smile on your face grew wider than ever before. “A rockstar is asking someone like me out for a date? Is this some cinderella kind of story?” Your nervous laughter made him hold his breath, expectantly waiting for your final answer. His body tensed up as you finally nodded, accepting his invitation.

“Sure. When and where?”

He smiled from ear to ear as he told you the time and place.

“Alright. See you tonight!” You waved him goodbye and disappeared back into your room.

“Yeah, see you tonight.”, he whispered dreamy with his eyes fixed on your window for a little longer before he turned around and went back to his friends.

“So how’s the no-date-policy going?” Teddy leaned against your doorframe as you turned around, grinning like a highschooler that’s been asked out to prom.

“Oh shut up.”, you laughed in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Hey! Poppy! Guess who has a date tonight!”, Teddy’s voice echoed through the apartment. His words had only just left his lips when Poppy was already standing in your room, seemingly faster than light and with a grin that almost looked scary.

“He asked you out?” But before you could answer, she grabbed you by your hands, pulled you into a tight embrace and swirled you around. “I never thought I could be any prouder as a mother than this.”

“Poppy, she’s not -” Teddy tried to intervene to remind her that you were not their actual daughter. But Poppy, filled with pride, interrupted him.

“Oh shut up, Teddy.”

Still giggling she released you to look you up and down. You were still in your baggy shorts and a faded shirt, that once used to be a blue and violet tie dye. The longer she looked at you, the more you got anxious.

“So … “ she started after a moment. “And what are you going to wear?”

“What?” Her question caught you off guard. You were still busy to not freak out with joy.

“What are you going to wear tonight? Sure you can’t go on a date looking like this, sweetie.” Well, she was pretty damn right with that. In your mind you went through your little options. Because you were often switching between hostels and other places to stay the night, you chose not to carry that much clothing around with you. So most of your outfits consist of simple shirts, most of them already pretty baggy and faded, and some simple jeans. Nothing that you could wear on a date to make a good impression. Well, you honestly didn’t intend to go on dates anyway.

“Oh my god.”, now you have started to freak out. “What the hell am I going to wear?!” With furrowed brows and slightly panicking you looked at Poppy.

“Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” She gently squeezed your hand, then left your room, skipping like an excited child.

“I guess I should leave you two girls alone.”, Teddy whispered to you, somehow happy to leave this intimate mother-daughter moment.

As long as Poppy combed through her wardrobe, you faced the mirror, trying to tame your hair to look nice and girly and not like a crazy witch. Just as you were trying to braid your hair, Poppy came back with a pile of clothes. This might be a more complicated and complex quest than you thought.

You tried on outfit after outfit. Dresses. Skirts with lovely ruffle blouses. Your favorite so far was a dark brown culottes with a fluffy beige blouse. That was until Poppy pulled out a dress, short puffed sleeves, flowy skirt and a lovely floral pattern. You instantly put it on. The fabric was soft and light, the layered dip hem skirt flowed down from your waist like a waterfall of flowers. You never were a fan of these oldschool puffed sleeves, but you had to admit, that these were pretty flattering. Around your waist, the fabric was a bit ruffled up and tightened in your back like a corset. And the neckline was low-cut, but not too revealing.

As you eyed your reflection, admiring how the dress accentuates your favorite features and yet managed to conceal your insecurities, Poppy carefully completed the dress with a cute little necklace.

“You look absolutely stunning!” She stood right behind you with her hands on your shoulders and examined your reflection too, looking like the proud and loving mother you never had.

“Thanks Poppy.” was all you managed to get out at the moment. You never considered yourself good looking, not even close. Instead you always tried to hide your body and your low self esteem. But your new found family taught you in so many different ways how beautiful and stunning you actually were, on the inside as well as on the outside.

It felt like an eternity until it became evening and your long-awaited date with Eddie came closer. Watching the clock hands seemingly move in slow motion, your impatience grew with every second to infinity. Poppy helped you to braid your hair and embellished your french braids with colorful flowers from their balcony.

Every fiber of your body was tense and it was a miracle you managed to walk to your destination. Nervously fidgeting with your ring, you found the place Eddie told you. But to your surprise, it wasn’t a restaurant or bar. It was a nightclub. Every time the door opened, rock music blared outside, then fell silent again when the door closed.

Did he mess up the address? Or did you mess up? Anxious, you verified the address of this place over and over again, finding no mistake, until the ticket taker spoke to you, thinking you were the next in line. “What’s your name?”

Pulled out of your thoughts you looked at him. “What?”

“What is your name, so I can let you in.”, he repeated.

“Oh, Y/N Y/L/N, but I think I got the wrong address, sorry.”

Just as you were about to leave, embarrassed and downhearted, he opened the door for you and the music carried you inside.

As you hesitantly entered the club you simultaneously entered a whole different galaxy. The heavy guitar sounds and fast drums adapted to the fast and nervous beating of your heart. With a loud thud the door slammed shut behind you.

People mostly dressed in black leather jackets or jeans vests covered in patches, pins and studs ushered you further into the club. You let yourself get carried by the wave of metalheads, standing out like a sore thumb with your cute little dress and the flowers in your hair. The masses around you came to a stop and you found yourself in front of a big stage that was covered in red light, a flag hanging on the wall behind the setup that announced a band named ‘Corroded Coffin’.

Squinting your eyes, you tried to find the guy with the wild, brown hair, but to your disappointment you couldn’t find him. After some minutes of desperately searching for that lovely smile, the few lights that tried in vain to lighten up the whole place dimmed and everything fell silent for a moment before some slow and hauntingly beautiful guitar riffs filled the air. Your eyes needed some time to adapt to the darkness around you. The crowd started to cheer frenziedly, jumping up and down uncontrollably as the heavy beats of a drum joined the guitar. Caged in that impetuous jostling, you had to stand on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the now partially lit up stage.

And when you caught sight of that wild, dark brown mane, you froze for a second, eyes wide open in shock. “No fucking way”, you mouthed in disbelieve.

The world around you seemed to fall into slow motion as the realization hit you hard. That guy in front of you, believe it or not, was Eddie. Eddie Munson, the guy you randomly met at a pub and made fun of because he claimed to be a rockstar. He was shredding his guitar like a maniac, a burst of energy radiating from him. And just as the crowd was about to freak out with excitement, he grabbed the microphone and, with a contagious enthusiasm, hollered to the crowd, "Alright, folks! Let's make some noise that'll shake these walls! We're here for a hell of a good time, so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride!" The crowd erupted into even louder cheers as the concert kicked off with a surge of electrifying energy.

His eyes were scanning the crowd, desperately looking for your unmistakingly beautiful face. Fortunately his eyes found you, his look a mix of triumph and satisfaction. A silent declaration that spoke volumes, as if to say ‘See, I wasn’t pulling your leg.’ Still in disbelief, you shook your head as you watched him perform with his band.

“In the shadows of the night, where the demons come alive,

Echoes of thunder, a twisted ride, where the fearless dare to strive.

As the spirits intertwine, prancing to a symphony of the dark,

In the heart of rebellion, we leave our lasting mark.”

Even though this wasn't your type of music, the sight of your type of guy performing like he's possessed by the devil himself made the whole show surprisingly enjoyable.

“Rising from the ashes, we're forged in the fire,

restless souls and a rebel's desire,

Riding the storm, breaking the chains.

Legends are born in the heat of the fight,

In the roar of the crowd, where freedom reigns.”

For the rest of the concert, Eddie couldn't take his eyes off you. The sea of leather and denim jeans around you blurred into a viscous, gray mass, completely insignificant to him. All that mattered to him at that moment was you – your smile, outshining any star in the night sky, and your eyes, radiating a warmth that could envelop him even in the darkest of clouds overshadowing his mind.

The thundering beat of your heart, on the verge of explosion with excitement, merged seamlessly with the unexpectedly peppy song. At first, it was just the drums, synced with the slow strumming of the bass, gradually increasing its pace until it abruptly fell silent, giving way to Eddie's voice as he chimed in.

You couldn't have possibly missed the smug grin on Eddie's face, the grin you began to love throughout the past days, as he let his piercing guitar riffs slice through the dense air. The drums and bass seamlessly joined in, weaving together to unveil Eddie's latest song, evidently penned about a certain girl he had met just days ago.

“In a haze of neon lights, the city's heartbeat loud,

A crowded room, lost faces in the crowd.

Then there she stood, a vision rare,

Sweet innocence like the flowers in her hair.”

After they played their last song and the stage was once again covered in darkness, the masses around you, still hyped, rushed outside. Countless thoughts mixed with a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over you, leaving you riveted to the spot, unable to move. But as soon as you caught a glimpse of Eddie's wild mane while he climbed down from the stage, there was nothing that could’ve held you back. With a flock of muttered and incomprehensible excuses gushing out of your mouth, you pushed yourself through the remaining crowd towards Eddie.

“Her laughter echoes, a sweet serenade.

Lost in the moment, nothing else compares.

Her eyes sparkle like stars in the night,

A sweet surrender, everything felt right.

Her words like poetry, a gentle breeze,

In the storm of life, she puts my mind at ease.

In the chaos of life, she's my symphony.”

“Eddie!” A security guard blocked your path, but you exerted all your strength to reach Eddie. “Please, let me through. I know Eddie; we’re friends. Please,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes and waving desperately for Eddie to notice you.

“Okay, you lovebirds. Don’t you think we should go somewhere more … quieter? At least with less prying spectators.”, the bassist, a tall guy with a smile sweet as honey which he desperately tried to hide, suggested.

“Nice try. I can’t let you through; the backstage area is just for the band.” The guard attempted to shoo you away, gently restraining you.

“No, you don’t understand. I…” Eddie, prompted by his drummer who pointed at you and the guard, rushed towards you, wearing the broadest smile on his lips.

“Y/N!” The sound of your name startled the guard, who turned his head, sensing trouble he needed to address. Taking advantage of the distraction, without a second thought, you leaped over the barrier.

There was no way anyone could have held you back at that moment.

Everything unfolded rapidly, yet it felt like slow motion as you enveloped him in your arms. His warm hands cupped your face, fingers entangled in your hair. His lips met yours, moving in sync to a silent rhythm set by your connected heartbeats.

“Okay, nothing to see here, guys!” His bandmates pivoted to shield the curious looks of the crowd, slightly bewildered by the unexpected sight of their lead singer's romantic interlude.

“I never thought you would actually come,” he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss but still cradling your face with his calloused hands. His voice trembled, and you could feel his heart pounding violently against your chest.

“And I never thought you were telling the truth, but here we are,” you retorted, still breathless, earning a laugh from him—a laughter you never wanted to miss in your life again.

“Is this Eddie’s secret girlfriend?” someone screamed excitedly, pointing at you and Eddie.

“Well, does this look like a secret to you?” the drummer huffed, attempting to disperse the onlookers.

With the help of the security, his bandmates managed to give you and Eddie some private space, away from their curious fans. They already suspected something was going on since they couldn’t figure out the reason behind his late night trips or the silly smiles dancing around his lips when he returned to their tour bus. He seemed to be a completely different person after he went out one night after a little argument with their manager. And now they finally had an answer, the answer was right in front of them.

“Yeah, I think Jeff is right,” the drummer agreed. “And don’t you think you should introduce your secret girlfriend to us?” He playfully mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, emphasizing the words with a teasing tone, the rest of the band loudly agreeing. With his arms crossed above his chest and a raised eyebrow, the curly haired drummer, who was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt underneath a red plaid flannel, nearly squeezed himself between you and Eddie.

Eddie took a deep breath and let go of you, silently cursing his nosy friends for interrupting this intimate moment with you. He grabbed you by your hand, squeezing it gently to, on one hand, assure you that everything is okay since he sensed your unease, but on the other hand to make sure you wouldn’t leave his side.

“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes in a playful manner and added "When you finally stop pestering me" like an annoyed parent would to silence their nosy child.

"Okay, let’s go, move, move!" the bassist, Jeff, demanded excitedly, ushering them into the backstage area with animated enthusiasm. You clung onto Eddie as the rest of the band, with combined forces, led you two further into the backstage area.

You spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and his Band, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you snuggled against his chest. His friends welcomed you with open arms and treated you as one of them, as if you knew each other for years.

As they settled in, the atmosphere turned light-hearted, and this group of grown up adults, famous rockstars, who had momentarily reverted to their teenage selves, cracked one bad joke after another. Eddie's friends wasted no time in sharing embarrassing stories from their shared past, tales that had long been hidden in the recesses of their memories.

Amidst the banter, they found joy in recounting youthful escapades, revealing anecdotes about Eddie that made him both blush and join in the laughter. The tour bus became a time machine, transporting them back to the days of awkward adolescence, with the added delight of sharing these moments with someone who had now become a part of their close-knit circle.

As hours slipped away, the scent of beer and cigarettes lingered in the air, and your adoration for the dorky, brown-haired guitarist only deepened with each anecdote shared by his bandmates.This became one of those core memories that etch themselves into your soul—a source of perpetual joy, belonging, and safety whenever you reflect upon it.

Even though you enjoyed the time you spent with the band, you longed for some time alone with Eddie. The earlier kiss lingered, leaving a sweet longing in its wake, the taste of him remaining on your lips. Each and every time you caught a glimpse of his lips, your heart seemed to skip a beat and a cozy warmth spread within you as the memory of his lips moving against yours flashed through your mind. And it was no different for Eddie.

Gareth noticed the looks you shared, your nonverbal conversations, not knowing how to get away from the boys for some alone time. So he did what every best friend would do.

“Alright guys.” He clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “I think we should give our lovebirds some time for themselves.” As he stood up, he winked at Eddie, who, in return, mouthed a relieved ‘Thank you’. Before you and Eddie left them, everyone hugged you goodbye, like you’ve always been friends.

You stumbled out of the bus, still laughing and grinning like a teenager. The cool air of the night let shivers wash over your body, which Eddie noticed instantly. Like the gentleman he was, he put his jacket around your shoulders and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You pulled him into a tight embrace, never wanting to let him go, your fingers buried in his still sweaty shirt. But you didn’t mind. He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered in that moment. His hands slowly wandered up and down your back, his fingers gently painting little circles on your skin.

“I’d love to take you out on a date sometime. A real date.” With his hands cupping your face, he looked down into your eyes. His expression was soft, almost sad at the thought of leaving you soon.

You melted under his touch, a sensation you'd never experienced before. No one had ever made you feel this way, and dreaming of such a connection was something you'd never dared. Surprisingly, Eddie managed to make you forget about your self-imposed "holy oath" against dating again—a so-called no-date policy that now seemed nothing more than a ridiculous joke.

“Come on, sweetness. Let’s get you home,” he whispered after what felt like an eternity. Reluctantly, you agreed and sighed as he broke the embrace. Slowly, you walked back home, taking some detours to prolong the precious moments with him.

Beneath the cloudless night sky, with the moon casting its enchanting glow on the Thames, turning its surface into an ocean of little, shiny diamonds, you felt like you were living in a dream. The most beautiful dream you never wanted to wake up from. All the way back to the pub you talked about home, his tour, your plans for the future, and your plans for whatever that was you two had going on.

With a heavy heart, you sauntered through the small alleys, cast in the dim light of old lanterns, drawing closer to the pub where your little story began. Soon, you recognized the green and brown stained glass windows of the pub, illuminated by the fairy lights Poppy insisted on decorating them with. You knew that Poppy and Teddy would probably be worried about you since it was getting pretty late, but you still didn’t want to leave Eddie's side.

“Whenever and wherever you want,” you promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “I can’t wait to spend more time with you.” You reached up to him, your fingers combing through his soft hair, and gently kissed him again. Eddie's tensed body relaxed under your touch, and you thought you heard a soft moan leaving his chest as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, a shrill screeching cut through the silence, abruptly interrupting your kiss. “Teddy! Teddy, they’re kissing! Oh my god!” Poppy’s excited voice echoed from the small balcony, where she must have been watching the two of you, causing you both to break out in laughter.

“I bet she won't give up until I tell her every single detail about tonight,” you whispered, placing another kiss on Eddie's rough lips.

“Please don’t give this old lady a heart attack with your lewd disclosure of our little romance,” he admonished in a playful way between kisses.

“Teddy! Hurry up! They’re kissing again! Oh, sweet, sweet young love!” her voice filled the air again.

“Jesus Christ, she’s worse than all of those pushy fangirls,” he joked, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, sure, Mister Rockstar.”

“What? Don’t believe me?” He looked down at you, something provocative flashing through his eyes.

“Well, maybe I would believe you if you take me to one of your shows, Mister Rockstar,” you winked back at him, a smug grin dancing on your lips before he could kiss it away.

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