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wheresarizona · 11 months

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Float Like a Feather

pairing: Joel Miller/inexperienced f!reader

summary: You like to go to the bar at night, have a shot, and dance to the jukebox until it tires you out. Joel likes to go to the bar, have a couple of drinks, and watch you dance, entranced by how carefree and happy you look. Ellie thinks it's disgusting how you stare at each other with moon eyes and decides it’s time Joel finally talks to you.

rating: E (18+!! This is basically smut with some plot. No y/n, age gap (20-25 years), Soft Joel Miller, reader isn’t a virgin but is very inexperienced, Joel is extremely sweet in showing how good sex can be, alternating pov, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f receiving/first time), vaginal fingering, (1) pussy slap, spit mention, dirty talk, praise kink, a hint of Protective Joel, a couple of ma’am’s, Good Parent Joel, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Ellie being the best wingman, Joel supporting his lesbian daughter, a touch of pregnancy, Joel holding a baby, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 7.1k+

a/n: My dearest friend @dresupi sent me the song Stella by Cereus Bright as a prompt for Joel Miller, and this is what happened. I’m going to be honest and tell you this is completely self-indulgent. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Jackson is just so… normal.

Or at least as normal as a town can be in an apocalypse.

Returning with Ellie, they were given duties like every other person who lived there to keep the place continuing to be normal.

They’ve been there a little over a month, and Joel already has a routine: up at seven am, making sure Ellie gets up, too (ignores her grumbling), goes with her to the canteen to have breakfast (ignores her glares). They split up to go do their jobs for the day, him returning to the house around five, showering the day away, then goes to have dinner with Ellie at six (happily listens about her day and the girl she’s taken a liking to named Cat). She goes to hang out with her new friends, and he likes to go sit in the bar to have a couple of drinks over a few hours and people-watch.

It’s more person-watch, or at least each time he’s gone, there’s only one person who catches his eye.

Every night at around eight, you make your way into the bar, taking a shot of something clear at the bartop, then going to the jukebox, putting on a song, and dancing.

It’s not one song, or two, you keep them going and dancing until there’s a sheen of sweat on your skin, and you finally have to get some water.

It entrances him with how carefree you are, how happy you are, your eyes closed, smiling as you just lose yourself to the music, moving to the beat.

Sometimes people join you, sometimes men try to convince you to get a drink with them that you always politely decline, and Joel would feel like a creep, but sometimes your eyes open and lock with his, and you wink at him, which always makes him so damn flustered. He knows you’re aware of him because when you enter the bar, your attention goes to his corner table, smiling at him before you go take your shot.

There’s no way in hell you’re interested in him, though—he’s way too old for someone so young and lively. You probably just enjoy having an audience watching as you float across the dance floor, having the time of your life.

It doesn’t matter anyway because he’s convinced himself he’s fine on his own and doesn’t need anyone. He isn’t even sure if he can allow himself to care for another person, not after all the ones he’s lost—so all of his focus has been on his kid and keeping her safe.

He’s sitting at his usual table with his whiskey in front of him, watching as you dance to an upbeat 80s song in your black leggings and purple tank top, when suddenly someone is plopping down in the seat next to him, taking him from his reverie, quickly turning his head to realize it’s just Ellie.

“Is that her?” she asks, pointing at you moving in the empty space in front of the jukebox used as a makeshift dance floor.

He feels a flush creeping up his neck, “Don’t point,” he says, lowering her hand. “It’s rude.”

“Fine, Joel, I won’t point.” She rolls her eyes. “But is that her?” she nods her head toward you.

“Is that who?”

“The woman Tommy says you stare at with moon eyes but are too chicken shit to ask out.”

His face pinches in anger, turning his attention to the teen. “I do not stare at her with fuckin’ moon eyes,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, you do. It’s disgusting—just ask her out already.”

“I’m too old for her,” he replies, taking a drink.

“You are fucking old, but with how she looks at you, I don’t think she gives a fuck.”

He lowers his glass. “How does she look at me?” he asks quietly, and Ellie grins.

“Your sight must be going, old man,” she ribs. “She looks at you with the same goddamn moon eyes, and it’s obvious she likes you, too.”

“That’s a fuckin’ lie—ain’t nothin’ obvious.”

“Well, you’re the only person she looks at, so…”

He perks up.

“Am I?”

That can’t be…

“Yep, and you should just finally make a fucking move.”

He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why are you givin’ me shit when you’re too chicken shit yourself?”

Her eyes round.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He lowers his voice to make sure nobody else would hear.

“You like Cat, and from the times you’ve brought her around, she likes you, too.” He shrugs. “I’m not the only one with fuckin’ moon eyes.”

“Ah ha!” She points at him. “You do have a crush!”

“Keep it down,” he hisses, frantically looking your way and seeing you’re still dancing without a care.

“Jesus, Joel—chill out. I wanna make you a deal.”

“What’s that?” he asks, meeting her eyes with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll ask out Cat if you ask out Dancing Queen over there.” She juts her thumb toward the dance floor.

He lets out a long low sigh scrubbing his hand over his face because Ellie was his kid, and he wants her to be happy, and she’s happy with Cat. If this will get her to do something about her own crush, he obviously has to do it, but it will be so fucking embarrassing when he gets shot down.

“Fine.”

“Fuck yeah! She’s heading to the bar. Now’s your chance.”

His eyes go wide. “Now? You want me to do it now?” He figured he’d have time to work up the courage—he’s rusty.

“Yeah. Go.” She pushes on his shoulder, and Joel reluctantly gets up with a groan, scratching at the back of his neck as he walks toward you. Looking back at Ellie, she’s grinning and giving him two thumbs up, which spurs him on to do what she asked.

You’re chugging a glass of water, your skin glistening in the lights of the bar from sweat, and Joel thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He approaches, taking a deep breath. He finally clears his throat. “Um, excuse me, ma’am?”

Setting the cup down, you turn to face him with the most beautiful smile curling up on your lips.

“Cute corner guy!” you say, and his cheeks heat.

“The name’s Joel,” he replies, sticking out his hand.

“Hi, Joel—” You introduce yourself, shaking his offered palm, and he notices how much smaller yours is. “—I’ve been waiting for you to come talk to me.”

His eyebrows are in his hairline. “You… have?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re very handsome, and don’t stare at me like you’re picturing me naked. It’s honestly refreshing. Wanna have a drink with me?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much.”

Ellie has disappeared, and the two of you take up residence at his usual table. He finds you’re lovely to talk to—learning you’d been in Jackson almost six months, you lived in the Denver QZ before that, your age which had him wondering why in the hell you were even giving him the time of day, and you hadn’t crossed paths outside the bar in the rotation of jobs because you were a teacher down at the school full time.

“—so the dancin’ helps wear you out so you can sleep?” he asks.

“Yes.” You nod. “Insomnia is an absolute bitch, but if I can get myself tired enough, I’ll finally sleep—so dancing, which is much more fun than going for a jog or running.”

“Fuckin’ hate runnin’,” he replies, taking a drink.

You giggle. “I do, too,” you say, taking your own sip. “Was that your daughter earlier?” you ask.

“Oh.” He scratches his mustache. “Kinda? I’ve basically adopted her as my own, and she lives with me, but she doesn’t call me dad or anythin’ like that.” He shrugs.

“Okay, so you’ve got a kid, are from the Boston QZ, have been in Jackson for a month, are Tommy Miller’s brother, prefer whiskey, have the most gorgeous brown eyes, and enjoy watching random women dance in bars.”

He huffs out a breath, knowing his cheeks are tinted pink, darting his eyes away.

“I, uh, apologize if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable…”

You touch his bare forearm on the table, his flannel shirt’s sleeves rolled up, and his skin tingles under your palm.

“I promise you don’t make me uncomfortable at all. To tell you the truth, I quite enjoy you watching me and kinda hoped you’d talk to me sooner… or join me.”

He meets your gaze, swallowing hard, surprised at the hope swelling in his chest.

“I, uh, apologize again, but this time for bein’ so forward because I haven’t talked to a beautiful woman in quite some time, and I just want to make sure I’m not misreadin’ things…?”

You smile warmly at him.

“Joel, I am very interested in you romantically, and one drink away from being brave enough to see if you want to come back to my place.”

You do like him, and he’s honest to god shocked. He’d convinced himself he was better off alone, but maybe having someone wouldn’t be too bad. Jackson is safe, there isn’t much risk aside from patrols, and Ellie seemed to think he needs somebody—and you’re so beautiful and sweet; he was already gone on you before he’d spoken to you, and now that he knows he’s got a chance, he’s not going to waste it.

He gulps, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as arousal crashes into him like a freight train.

His voice goes deeper. “I can promise you, I’d say yes.” He has to ask, though. “You really want an old guy like me?”

Smirking, you answer, “Oh, yeah, I really like you, and I just know you’ll be good in bed.” You wink, rubbing your hand up his arm.

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s been a long fuckin’ time, and I’m out of practice, so it might not be as good as you’re hopin’...”

“Good thing we’ve got all night for you to practice over and over and over again,” you purr.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, his jeans feeling much tighter. “You, uh—”

“Want to get the fuck out of here?” you interrupt, smiling at him. “I’d like that very much.”

Joel Miller is a goddamn sweetheart and a really good kisser.

The moment your front door is closed, he has you against it, kissing you hard—one of his hands cradling your face, the other moving up your stomach to grab your breast, moaning when his tongue slips between your lips to tangle with your own.

Arousal is burning brightly in your belly, your cunt throbbing with need, wanting this man desperately.

You, of course, had taken notice of Cute Corner Guy Joel Miller the first night he’d gone to the bar for a drink. Those beautiful brown eyes never looked at you salaciously. If anything, it was more in wonder and so unbelievably adorable you’d been dying to talk to him but wanted to ensure he made the first move to know he liked you and not just the show you put on. It didn’t matter to you that there were quite a few years between your ages; he’s incredibly attractive, and you wanted to know more about him. Plus, as a bonus, you’ve heard older men who grew up before the world went to shit were very generous in bed, which would be nice since your little bit of experience with guys your own age hasn’t been all that great.

Your fingers are working open the buttons on his shirt, his tongue sliding along yours in a way that makes your toes curl, him interrupting by grabbing the hem of your tank top, tugging it and your sports bra over your head in one go, tossing them away without a care. Returning to what you were doing, Joel's big hands are on your tits, trailing kisses down your neck until he’s bending to suck one of your pebbled nipples between his lips.

“Oh, god,” you gasp at the sensations shooting straight to your pussy.

He comes off you with a wet pop, smirking. “It’s Joel, but close.”

“A dumb joke—fuck, that’s hot.” His shirt was undone, impatiently pushing it off his arms and taking in his broad chest and the little bit of softness on his belly, noticing scars, some old, some new, littering his golden skin. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

He’s palming your breasts, his big, expressive eyes looking at you, and you can see the honesty in his gaze when he replies, “You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

“God, you’re so fucking endearing—I need your dick inside me,” you say, rubbing your hand over the impressive bulge in his jeans.

He chuckles. “Bedroom?”

“End of the hall.” You point.

He’s on you again, his lips crushing against yours, his hands on your waist to help guide you as he moves you away from the door, walking you backward down your hall, kicking off your shoes as you go.

You’re glad your tiny two-bedroom house was clean, squeaking in surprise when you basically get thrown into the middle of your queen-size bed, a lamp on your bedside table illuminating the room in a soft glow.

Sitting up on your elbows, you watch as he toes off his shoes, his belt clanking as he works it open, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He pushes them down and off with a groan, delightfully discovering that Joel goes commando and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen—long and slightly curved up with a nice girth to it, the tip reddened and shining with precum, your eyes going wide at how big he is.

For the first time, you think you might want to try blowing a guy, never having an opportunity before with people’s personal hygiene iffy outside of the town walls.

His attention is back on you, leaning over the mattress to grab the waistbands of your leggings and underwear, pulling them both off before he crawls up onto the bed between your spread legs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

His gaze is burning when it meets yours, shaking his head. “Sorry, baby. You can later, but right now, I gotta taste your pretty little pussy.”

Your eyebrows lift. “You’re gonna eat me out?”

No one has ever gone down on you. It’s always been quick fucks to scratch an itch—dear god, Joel’s going to ruin you for anyone else, you just know it, and it excites you immensely.

“May I?” he asks in return.

“Yeah, but you should know it’ll be the first time…”

His face goes pale, his eyes widening. “Havin’ sex…?” he croaks.

“What? No, I’ve had sex—” He visibly relaxes. “—a handful of times. There’s just never been much… foreplay? Kinda thought it was a myth.” You shrug your shoulders.

He’s frowning. “It ain’t no myth and a fuckin’ shame no one’s tasted you,” he says, moving onto his stomach, his big hands pushing your thighs apart with his head at the apex of your thighs, staring at your pussy with a look of hunger. He spread open the lips of your sex with his fingers. “I could spend hours with my face buried in this gorgeous cunt,” he rasps, his words making your core clench hard around nothing.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Anticipation is swelling up inside you, suddenly blurting, “Can I keep you?”

You feel the blood rush to your face. ‘Can I keep you?’ Where the fuck did that come from, and how are you hoping he’ll respond, that he wants to date you? Actually, yes, that is your hope.

He meets your gaze with a confused look. “What?” he asks.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “I really like you and don’t want this to be a one-time thing… Can I keep you?” You chew on your bottom lip.

His face softens, eyes on yours as he kisses your inner thigh. “Yeah,” he replies. “You can keep me if I can keep you—I’m a one-woman kinda guy, anyway.”

“I can be your one woman?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much, Tiny Dancer. Your, uh, handful of times, did any of them make you come…?”

The question has your face heating, answering, “...no. I usually took care of myself…”

He looks honest to god offended. “Fucking selfish men,” he seethes. “That won’t do. Here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna lick your pussy and use my fingers to make you come at least twice—It’s been a while, but I sure as fuck remember how to pleasure a woman. Then I’ll give you my dick, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know how long I’ll last bein’ inside your tight little cunt, but I’m aimin’ to make you come one more time, and that’ll be round one.”

The way he sounds so sure has you throbbing.

“Just marry me already, Joel.”

Your comment makes him laugh. “Let me take you out a few more times, and then we can discuss marriage,” he replies with a wink.

“Fucking deal.”

There’s an earnest expression on his face. “If I’m doin’ somethin’ you don’t like, tell me, no hard feelin’s—same goes for if there’s somethin’ you’re really likin’. I just wanna make you feel good, Tiny Dancer. You understand?”

You nodded your head.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Joel. I understand.”

He smiles. “Good girl.” His response has you gasping as tingles move down your spine. There’s a knowing smirk on his face. “You like that,” he states. “You like being my good girl—I know you’re gonna be real good for me, aren’t ya?”

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, so unbelievably turned on, nodding your head at his question.

His fingers slap against your clit, not hard, but enough it has sparks of pleasure igniting in your center, your head falling back as you moan.

“Words, baby,” he says.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasp.

“That’s my good girl. Feel free to pull my hair—I like it.” He ends the sentence with a wink, then his attention is back on your wet heat, watching him lick his lips, knowing he can see you glistening in arousal.

His fingers spread you open again.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he murmurs. “Bet you taste amazin’.”

He spits on your clit, your eyes going round, feeling the hot saliva as it slowly drips down to your sopping hole, moaning loudly when Joel’s head dips down, swiping his tongue through your folds from your entrance and back up.

It’s a new sensation and heavenly.

He’s groaning like he’s enjoying the most amazing meal, licking every bit of your sensitive flesh he can get. The beginnings of your orgasm are taking shape, feeling the heat starting to build low in your belly, and when his lips latch around your bundle of nerves, and he sucks, that’s when your hands end up in his grey hair, needing something to hold onto.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan. “It’s so good. Joel, it’s so good. Don’t stop.”

It’s almost overwhelming, your body starting to writhe, his arm like iron over your lower stomach to keep you still, his facial hair scratching deliciously on your intimate skin while he licks and sucks at you with abandon. You see him between your legs, your fingers tangled in his grey waves, his eyes closed as he feasts on you like a man starved—they open to meet your gaze, his glazed over and so dark you’re not sure any of the beautiful brown remains.

“You’re gonna make me come.” The muscles in your belly start to tighten, his tongue licking your entrance while his head shakes, nuzzling your clit with his perfect nose, and the sensations send you over the edge, your body tensing up as you come with a shout of his name, euphoria exploding in your veins.

You're panting as you fall back flat onto the bed, hearing Joel’s muffled voice saying into your cunt, good girl, him groaning as he shoves his tongue inside you to lick up your release.

You’re in love with him.

Or maybe that’s just the happy chemicals coursing through your body.

God, he’s perfect—how could you not fall in love with him?

His head pops up. “How was it?” his rough voice asks.

“I’m in love with you,” you answer dreamily.

His chuckle is warm. “That good?”

“Oh, yeah. Fucking incredible.” You sit back up on your elbows to look down at him, your slick coating his facial hair around his mouth and the bottom half of his face. “This is what I’ve been missing? I am mad but also so fucking happy you finally talked to me.”

“You, uh, really were waitin’ for me to talk to you?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I love your beautiful, expressive eyes, and you’ve always looked at me differently than other men, almost like you were seeing me and not just my body, you know? And I just really wanted to get to know you. I figured all of the winks and smiles would clue you in that I was interested.”

“I just thought you liked havin’ an audience.”

“You’re literally the only person I like watching me.”

He sighs loudly, looking away. “I feel dumb for not realizin’ sooner.” He shakes his head. “Fuck, I wouldn’t have even made a move if Ellie hadn’t put me up to it.”

You smile. “What, did she dare you?”

He has the sweetest smile when he meets your eyes. “No, she made a deal with me that she’d ask out her crush if I asked out mine.”

“That is the cutest shit, and I do not know why you being a good dad really does it for me. Come up here and kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, groaning as he crawls up the bed, ending up with his hips in the cradle of your thighs, feeling his cock all hot and hard digging into your belly. His arms are on either side of your head to hold himself up, his face above your own. “You’re beautiful,” he says, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “You’re very handsome.”

His lips hover over your own. “You want me to kiss you?” he whispers.

“Please.”

“As my lady commands,” he responds, slotting his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

You moan at tasting yourself on his lips, your hands ending up in his hair, opening for his tongue to slip inside and slide along your own. It gets more and more fervent, your body thrumming in desire until the need becomes too much, and you’re murmuring into his mouth. “Fuck me.”

He groans, answering, “Can’t yet—gotta make sure you can take me.”

You break the kiss, his mouth red and kiss swollen, his dark eyes looking at you questioningly.

“I’m wet enough,” you reply. “Just stick it in.”

He inhales deeply. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

“Isn’t it supposed to hurt?”

It’s always a bit uncomfortable at first.

His eyes squeeze shut, taking a deep breath, whispering, Jesus Christ, on the exhale. “No, sweetheart, it’s not supposed to hurt if you’re doin’ it right.”

“Oh.” You’re frowning. “Joel?”

He looks at you. “Yes, Tiny Dancer?”

“I’ve had sex with the wrong people, haven’t I?”

“Looks that way, but we’re changin’ that tonight.” He kisses you quickly before he moves to lie on his side beside you, one arm propping his head up, his other fingers skating up your stomach to your breasts, circling around one nipple, then the other, making you shiver and goosebumps erupt on your skin. “I’m gonna use my fingers,” he rasps, his finger now circling your belly button. “I need to open you up—is that alright?”

“Yes.” You nod. “As we’ve discovered, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing—can’t believe I’ve been doing sex wrong.”

He sighs. “Just chose selfish assholes who didn’t give a fuck about you or your comfort.” His eyes narrow, eyebrows knitting together, his hand pausing. “Do any of ‘em live here?” he asks in a low tone, and the change in demeanor makes you gulp.

“So you can teach them a lesson…?”

“I just wanna talk, is all.”

“Uh-huh, right. With your fists? The enthusiasm is sexy, Joel, but they’re all back in Colorado.”

“A shame.”

You cup his cheek. “Just means you get to show me how to have good sex, and isn’t that exciting?” you ask, wagging your eyebrows. “You’re the first man who’s made me come, and I’d really like to do that with your dick inside me.”

“Fuck,” the word is said barely above a whisper, seeing his throat bob as he swallows. “You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me. I fuckin’ know it.”

Smiling, you pat his cheek. “Never, Joel. I like you too damn much.”

He has a little smirk. “Yeah? You like me?”

“I mean, I’m counting this as our first date, and I’ve already told you I’m in love with you and have basically proposed marriage, so I’d say yes, I like you very much.”

He chuckles, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. “You’re so fuckin’ cute.” He presses two fingers to your lips. “Suck,” he orders. “Get ‘em nice and wet so I can loosen you up ‘cause I am fuckin’ dyin’ to be inside you.”

Doing as he says, you suck them into your mouth, massaging them with your tongue, ensuring you’re getting them nice and wet, feeling delighted when his mouth falls open.

“Have uh—” He pauses to audibly gulp. “You asked if you could suck my dick. Have you ever…?”

His fingers leave you, shining in spit.

“No,” you answer, shaking your head. “It’d be another first.”

His eyes get darker, moving his hand between your legs, sucking in a breath when he slowly circles your clit, causing sparks of arousal to dance in your belly.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll show you how a bit later—I’m still convinced you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” his voice is huskier, dipping his fingers lower to press one thick finger into your aching entrance. “Especially,” he continues, sliding in another digit that makes you moan at the stretch, “with this pussy.” His fingers are pumping in and out of you while his thumb moves on your bundle of nerves, the fire burning low in your stomach, slowly building. He scissors his digits, and you gasp his name.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over you to give you a quick kiss. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him back down for another that he smiles into, him murmuring against your lips, “Gotta get you really fuckin’ wet and stretch you out a bit, pretty girl. I want you to love havin’ my dick inside you and make you feel so good, you beg me to fuck you again—bet you wouldn’t let any of those other guys back inside this perfect pussy.” You’re whimpering, energy thrumming under your skin as he works you up. “Fuck, you’ve made me so fuckin’ hard it hurts. All I can think about is how fuckin’ tight and warm you’ll be when I finally split you open on my cock—Hell, might even make me come on the spot. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? Knowing your sweet little cunt drives me fuckin’ wild—you drive me wild, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you and wanna be the only man you want or need.”

He kisses you again, his words making your heart pound in your chest, your body burning up, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

“You are,” you moan into his mouth.

“I’m what?”

“The only man I want.” Your fingers have a tight grip on his grey strands of hair. “It’s so fucking good, Joel—you’re fingers feel so fucking good. Oh my god, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Damn straight, I am.”

He crooks his fingers, sliding them along your top wall until he rubs something that has you pulling his hair and moaning his name, your back arching. “There it fuckin’ is.” He sped up, fucking his digits into it over and over, the fire in your belly getting hotter and hotter.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, hearing his fingers moving in and out of you wetly. “Can feel you fuckin’ flutterin’, I know you’re close.”

There’s no time for you to answer because you’re hitting your breaking point and coming with a gasp of his name, your cunt seizing up as pleasure radiates through your body.

“There we fuckin’ go,” he says into your lips. “My good girl.” He kisses you hard, pressing a third finger inside you, the wetness from your orgasm easing the way. Your mind is a pleasurable haze, enjoying his lips on yours while he spreads his fingers, reveling in the delicious stretch.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back, and you open your eyes to see his already on yours.

“I think you’re ready,” he says. “You still want my dick?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’ve never wanted dick more.”

That makes him smile.

“Good,” he replies, nuzzling his nose against yours before kissing you softly.

His fingers leave you, groaning as he moves to have his body hovering over yours with one arm beside your head, holding himself up while kneeling between your legs.

He meets your gaze. “You tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

“Yes, Joel.” You nod again.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His free hand comes up to his mouth, spitting on his fingers, using them to slick up his cock, then he slides his length through your folds to get himself even wetter. He notches at your entrance and slowly starts pushing in, it feeling like he’s splitting you open, your cunt accommodating his girth, stretching around him, filling you inch by glorious inch.

He’s cursing under his breath as he slides in all the way, and when he’s bottomed out, you feel so unbelievably full it has you gasping—your fingers are digging into his shoulders, Joel’s face pressing into your neck.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, the sound muffled. “You’re pussy’s gonna make me come.” The thought of him coming inside you has you clenching around him. “Fuck,” he pants. “Don’t do that—I need a second, or this is gonna end before it’s started.”

You’ve never let someone come inside you, yet here you are saying roughly, “Joel?”

His head comes up immediately to look you in the eyes with worry on his brow.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asks earnestly. “Is it too much?”

“No, it’s so fucking good—it feels so fucking good. You feel so good inside me.”

“What is it, Tiny Dancer?”

“I want you to come inside me. Please.”

He hisses, a pained look coming over his face, feeling his cock jerk. “I can’t,” he pants. “Can’t risk it—you can have it anywhere else.”

“Okay,” you reply, trying not to sound too downtrodden—it’s his choice, after all, and you respect it.

“Sorry, baby,” he kisses you sweetly. “I’m gonna move.” He pulls one of your legs up high on his ribs, then the other, both of his arms ending up on either side of your head, locking your feet at the small of his back, feeling the splay of muscles move as he pulls almost all the way and pushes back in, both your mouths falling open. He starts with a slow, steady rhythm, his dick carving out space in your depths and filling you perfectly. He’s so big that when he pushes all the way inside, it feels like he’s all up in your guts, the feeling stealing your breath, but it’s so good—his cock is pressing into spots you didn’t know existed, that familiar heat making itself known in your lower belly.

Sex has never felt like this.

He’d gotten you so wet, he’s sliding easily in and out of you, hearing the suck of your pussy taking him. It’s blowing your mind at how fucking amazing it feels, even with him being so well-endowed, there isn’t any discomfort—you’re moaning unbidden, unable to keep it in, Joel breathing hard, him slowly picking up the pace until he’s grunting, and there’s a slap of skin on skin, his thick cock filling you over and over.

The only thing you can think about is how good he feels, pleasure wracking through your body with every push and pull of his hips. Your nails are digging into the skin of his shoulder blades, Joel's mouth fusing with yours to kiss you while he fucks.

“Touch yourself,” he says into your lips, and you slide a hand into the little bit of space between your bodies to play with your clit. His golden skin glistens in sweat, a beautiful flush crawling up from his chest to his gorgeous neck and cheeks, rough sounds pulling from his throat as he kisses you. Your fingers work against your sensitive nub, and it has you rocketing closer and closer to your end before you’re coming again, crying out his name, your body tensing, your pussy squeezing him so tight, a strangled groan escapes Joel as he has to slow to a stop.

Your body is alight in ecstasy, Joel nose to nose with you, a drop of sweat on the tip of his falling onto yours, saying through heavy breaths, “You almost fuckin’ got me.”

Blinking open your eyes, you look up at him with a dreamy smile.

“Yeah?” you ask, voice rougher than usual. “Am I gonna make you come?”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“Good—come for me.”

He starts moving again, his hips pushing in and out of you, hearing the wet slide of his cock fucking into you.

His face screws up like he’s in pain, his mouth slack, eyebrows knitting together, eyes closed, grunting as he sets up a hard pace that makes your eyes roll back.

It’s so fucking good.

“I want you to come for me,” you moan. “I want you to feel good, Joel.” Your hands move into his sweat-damp hair.

“I feel so fuckin’ good with you,” he groans, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, all tongues and teeth, your noses bumping.

The springs in the mattress are squeaking, the headboard hitting the wall in time with his thrusts, the slick sounds of your pussy taking him filling the air, combined with moans and groans, the noises in the room are absolutely obscene.

He’s panting into your mouth, picking up in speed, his rhythm getting jerky.

It’s been a long fucking time since he last fucked someone, and he’s so fucking lost inside your pussy—it’s nirvana, heaven, your tight, wet heat lulling him to his finish, his brain unable to think of anything else except how good you feel around him; how perfect, your cunt hugging his cock snugly in your deep, warm depths, and making him lose his goddamn mind.

He told you he couldn’t come inside you—that’s been a hard no for him ever since he lost Sarah, not wanting to risk bringing another child into this godforsaken world, and here you are tempting him.

His conundrum is he likes you a lot, and he knows you like him, too, and not only that, you just like him—there’s no ulterior motive, you don’t want or expect anything from him except him, and he’s so fucking gone on you that maybe it might not be a bad thing if consequences happen from this evening.

Here in this somewhat normal town, he can see you having a life together. One night, and he’d like to have a life with you or whatever you’re willing to give him. He’s spent so many years suffering in his grief and wasting away his days that maybe it’s time for him to actually live. Ellie’s here and safe, and now you’ve come into the picture, and he doesn’t want to keep living the way he has been.

He’s feeling so fucking good, caught up in how you’ve bewitched him, his strokes getting faster, the knot in his belly winding tighter and tighter—it hits him suddenly—the point of no return, his balls tightening up, and it’s too late to pull out, he’s too far gone. His cock is pushed in all the way to the hilt when the coil snaps, coming with a guttural groan that reverberates in his chest, spurts and spurts of his spend gushing deep inside you, Joel feeling like he’s filling you to the brim.

Pleasure is thrumming in his veins, his heart pounding, collapsing on top of you with his face nestled in the crook of your neck, panting breaths and comforted by your scent—your fingers are moving in his hair, and he’s on cloud nine.

The thing that surprises him is he’s not panicking. At minimum, he expected dread, yet there’s nothing but warmth and happy contentment.

When was the last time he felt this blissed out?

He can’t even fucking remember—he hasn’t felt this relaxed in probably over twenty years.

You say something, but he’s so out of it he doesn’t make out the words.

He hums in question, putting all of his energy into listening.

“I said I’m keeping you.”

Joel snorts.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I’m keepin’ you, too. Fuckin’ milked me dry.”

“Was that okay?” you ask, and he can hear your worry, lifting his head to look you in the eyes.

“I’m well aware of what could happen—are you okay with that?”

There’s a small smile on your lips. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then everything’s okay.” He kisses you tenderly.

After a minute, you pull back. “You’re gonna stay the night, right? Like, we can do… more?”

He smiles. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I’m assumin’ you have it off?”

“I do.”

“So do I, and I’d love to stay tonight and the next if you’ll have me.”

Your mouth is turned up in that gorgeous smile, him loving your fingers pushing his hair away from his face. “You can stay forever, Joel.”

And there isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

2 years later…

It’s a warmer night, with it being the beginning of summer. The stars shine brightly in the sky high above as Joel and you stroll hand in hand down the street back to his house.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” you tell him, turning your head to look at him, the moon offering some light.

He meets your eyes. “Anytime, Tiny Dancer—it was better than me fightin’ that fucker who wouldn’t leave you alone.”

The bar had been packed tonight, with a lot more people dancing and one guy, who you assumed was new to town, that wouldn’t stop bothering you, which led to Joel getting up from his corner table and staring daggers at the other man as he pulled you into his arms and danced with you.

“It was better, and I enjoyed it very much.”

He smiles. “I know you did, baby,” he replies, kissing your hair.

Arriving at the house, Joel opens the front door for you, walking in first, hearing sounds in the living room, and heading that way.

“...Oh no!” Ellie exclaims dramatically. “They’re gonna get you—better use the jump drive!” As you walk into the room, she makes rocket noises, finding her lying on her back in the middle of the floor, holding up a laughing one-year-old, pretending the baby is flying. “Oh, yuck, you got drool in my mouth, Ollie.” She lowers the baby down on her chest to wipe at her mouth, Joel standing beside you, his arm going around your waist, both of you smiling. Her head tilts up, realizing you’re standing there. “Hey!” she greets. “Wait, fuck, how late is it?”

“Late enough that Olivia should be asleep,” you answer.

Olivia Sarah Miller was a year and three months old and looked so much like her dad that, aside from her complexion, it was a wonder if she’d gotten any of your genes.

“Fuck.” Ellie sits up with one arm, the other holding the baby. “I can explain—you know she has that tooth coming in, and she wouldn’t stop crying when I tried to put her in bed, so I brought her down here so she could chew on a cold carrot like you told me to do when she’s teething. While she was doing that, I was reading her that issue of Savage Starlight Joel found me, and then you know, she wanted to be Dr. Daniela Star and travel faster than light.”

“Uh huh,” Joel says. “Olive wanted to be the Doctor?”

“She did,” Ellie confirms.

“Your baby sister, who can barely talk, told you that?” he asks.

“I’ve learned to translate her babbles, and it was clear she said—” Ellie uses her free hand to make the baby’s bottom lip move to look like she’s talking. “—‘Ellie, I wanna fly.’”

“You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Olivia yawns, her eyes starting to close on their own.

Ellie grins, speaking quietly, “Yeah, but I tired her out, so you’re fuckin’ welcome.”

Joel sighs, walking over to her, the baby looking up at her dad and holding up her little chubby arms, saying in a tired voice, “Dadadadadada.”

“Yes, baby girl,” he answers fondly. “Daddy’s home.” He groans as he bends down to pick her up, the baby shoving her face in his neck, putting one of her hands on his chin. “Thank you for watchin’ her, Ellie,” he says. “A great job, as always. You stayin’ the night here or goin’ over to Cat’s?”

“Heading to Cat’s, but I’ll meet you guys for breakfast in the morning,” she replies, getting up from the floor.

“We’ll see you then, kiddo.”

“Thanks again, Ellie,” you tell her, smiling. “You’re your sister’s favorite babysitter.”

“Fuck yeah, I am!” she replies in whispered exclamation, walking closer to you. “Hopefully, I’ll be the next one’s favorite, too. How’s my brother doing?”

You snort. “Such high hopes it’s a boy when you know Joel is a girl dad—give me your hand.” She holds it out to you, and you press it to your large swollen belly. “Feel them kicking?”

Her eyes are round in wonder, staring at your stomach. “Strong fuckin’ kicks,” she says. “I definitely think it’s a boy.”

“Well, less than two months, and we’ll know.”

“Yeah, soon I’ll be proven right. Night guys!”

“Goodnight,” you both reply, watching as she heads out of the living room, hearing the front door open and close.

Olivia is passed out in Joel’s arms, him turning his head to kiss her forehead, his big hand rubbing up and down her back.

“Let’s go put her down,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers just as quietly. “I believe I made a promise to my wife I’d eat her out for an hour.”

“Pretty sure it was two hours, and you did, my sweet husband.” Reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“I love you,” he says with big eyes full of devotion, his head moving to kiss your palm.

“I love you, too.”

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @absurdthirst @littlemisspascal @pedrostories @theorganasolo @thefictionalgemini @pinkninja200 @lol-im-done @koryianders @pointlessandfutile @flyingmushroomss@abbyhaslongshorts@savage-aespa @sofietargaryen @kpopslur@superflymaterial@virtuallia@moobaggg @shaunthesheesh @marsroxx @whore4dilfs@majdoline@mandowhatnow@autobotgirl15-blog@lentil-s0up @myloveistoolittle@perksofbeingamultifandomm @squirtlebob @joliettes @aonungs-tsahik@javierpenasimp @thewayiknowyou@magic-magnoliaa @vanemando15 @eddiemunscns @gracie7209@fan-fiction-floozy@butterscotch-mafia@deliriousfangirl61 @khaylin27@notyourlovemonkey@a-wild-haggis @scorpiomindfuck @fandomandotherthings @seitmai@myswficlist@call-me-doll-face @fictionalmenloversblog@addisonnie@aaetherr69

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #wheresarizona writes #joel miller smut

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months

Note

AITA for allowing my best friend to be in my wedding party?

Me (30F) and my partner (29F) are getting married in November. We’ve had our bridesmaids/groomsmen (both of us are having mixed parties) picked since December.

Well two days ago, my best friend (31F) who is in my wedding party announced that she is pregnant. I was super super thrilled for her, because her and her husband have been trying to have a baby for about six years. It’s been a hard road for them due to fertility issues, IVF, and financial struggles, but it’s finally happened for them (and I should add that they’re both now in a much better financial situation) and I was so excited for them because she’s been my best friend since we were children and I’m also very close with her husband.

After she announced this to a group of our friends, she approached me privately to make sure I was still okay with her being in my wedding party, because some brides are a bit weird about that. I assured her that it was absolutely fine, that I wasn’t worried about her “stealing the spotlight” from my wedding, because I’m more about having a good time with all of the people closest to me than having a “perfect spotless wedding”. Besides, she’ll only be four months pregnant, so it’s not like it’ll be massively “attention-stealing” anyway, and there’s no worries about dresses not fitting because the ones we picked out are looser fitting and can definitely manage a baby bump. So as far as I was concerned, there was no reason not to include her in my party.

I relayed the news to my partner, expecting her to be excited (even if she isn’t as close to that friend), but she got sullen and moody after that. She later confronted me and said that she’d rather my friend wasn’t in my wedding party, saying that she’s happy she’s pregnant, and is fine with her attending the wedding, but she’d rather she wasn’t up the front for everyone to see. I tried to calmly explain what I said in the previous paragraph, and expressed how important it was to me for my best friend of about 25 years to be one of my bridesmaids, but my partner kept on insisting, saying that it would be too distracting. We went back and forth for about an hour, until eventually I kind of snapped, and told her that I didn’t give a shit if my friend went into labour in the middle of the ceremony, she was going to be there as my bridesmaid. My partner got all huffy and refused to talk to me for a little bit, and then we mutually decided that it was getting late in the evening, and we should talk about it in the morning when we’re less tired and are thinking clearer.

At the time I am writing this, it is almost 10am and me and my partner haven’t discussed the issue yet (she went for a jog) but I’m assuming we will talk about it when she gets back. I do feel bad for snapping at her, and I am planning on apologising for it, but what I said was the complete truth, and I am not planning on taking back my words, simply the tone I said then in. I understand that this wedding is for both of us, and there will be points we need to compromise on, but I think it’s completely unfair of her to expect my closest friend to sit out of the wedding party. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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jungwnies · 2 years

Text

pairing : influencer!reader x idol!yeonjun

genre : social media au , fluff , crack , some written chapters , comedy, strangers to lovers au

featuring : itzy!chaeryeong , itzy!yeji , lesserafim!yunjin , aespa!winter , p1h!keeho , nct!chenle , enhypen!heeseung , skz!changbin , ateez!wooyoung

warnings : cursing , suggestive content (in some chapters)

being an influencer has been a wonderful job, from promoting brands to interviewing idols for your youtube channel. everyone respected your relationships with idols as they saw how you were very respectful to those who came onto your channel. it was hard to avoid dating rumors because of how easygoing and real your videos were, but you never let those rumors effect how you really feel. that is until ….

INDEX (completed)

profile one | profile two

1. prologue chapter 1 — ‛ that two month hiatus ‚

2. chapter two — ‛ beat the allegations ‚

3. chapter three— ‛ that was actually fun ‚

4. chapter four — ‛ quick replies are a green flag ‚

5. chapter five — ‛ bro he's flirtinggg ‚

6. chapter six — ‛ ayo hitman bang introduces hit it the second audition ‚

7. chapter seven — ‛ you have to sign the nda ‚

8. chapter eight — ‛ i think it's yeonjun you have to worry about ‚

9. chapter nine — ‛ just a nice guy ‚

10. chapter ten — ‛ you dated WHO? ‚

11. chapter eleven — ‛ well that's awkward ‚

12. chapter twelve — ‛ sit back and observe ‚

13. chapter thirteen — ‛ going thru a crisis ‚

14. chapter fourteen — ‛ what did yongbok do 😡 ‚

15. chapter fifteen — ‛ pretend it never happened ‚

16. chapter sixteen — ‛ this might be awkward ‚

17. chapter seventeen — ‛ the industry is in shambles ‚

18. chapter eighteen — ‛ the day has come ‚

19. chapter nineteen — ‛ what do you mean? ‚

20. chapter twenty — ‛ not the right guy ‚

21. chapter twenty one — ‛ quite compromising ‚

22. chapter twenty two — ‛ pee-are crisis ‚

23. chapter twenty three — ‛ it's up to her ‚

24. chapter twenty four — ‛ what needs to be done ‚

25. chapter twenty five — ‛ oh my fucking god ‚

26. chapter twenty six — ‛ black on black ‚

27. chapter twenty seven — ‛ friends to ??? ‚

28. chapter twenty eight — ‛ palpitations ‚

29. chapter twenty nine — ‛ settled ‚

30. chapter thirty — ‛ like a finale ‚

started : 220617

ended : 230317

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munson-blurbs · 2 years

Text

Welcome to the Family (Dad!Eddie x Mom! Reader)

The baby is here the baby is here THE BABY IS HERE!!!

Warnings: pregnancy, labor, mention of epidural, some language

WC: 2.3k

A/N: Please give me suggestions for Part 5! What do you want to see from the little Munson family?

Part I | Part 2 | Part 3

Taglist: @dylanmunson @tayhar811 @princess-eddie @briasnow-blog @eddielives1986

Baby Munson’s due date is October 25. That morning, you and Eddie wake up—or rather, Eddie wakes up, as you barely slept. Your back is killing you, your feet are aching, and the baby seems to love dancing on your bladder at 4 AM. Your husband kisses your forehead and places a hand on your bump.

“Today’s the day,” his sleepy eyes sparkle. You want to meet his enthusiasm, but you’re too tired, too sore, and to be frank, too cranky.

“Maybe. First babies tend to take their time,” you remind him of what the OB-GYN told you. You shift under the covers, trying to maneuver your way to a sitting position. It’s too much and you start to cry.

Eddie’s used to this by now; between your mood swings and the sheer frustration of being nine months pregnant, you’ve been nothing short of an emotional mess. He wipes the tears from your cheeks and lets you cry.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out, and I’ll help you up so we can eat some breakfast,” he says softly. “I’m so proud of you for growing this beautiful baby. I just want him or her here with us so you can be comfortable again. And, of course, for all the baby cuddles.”

You smile at the thought of your newborn snuggled up on your chest, or Eddie rocking the baby to sleep while singing a lullaby. There will be no shortage of diapers to change or bottles to warm, but you’re looking at the silver linings: cute little outfits, teeny tiny fingernails, and of course, watching Eddie get to be a dad.

“There’s my favorite smile,” he presses a kiss to your lips. “Ready for some food?”

You nod as he helps you sit up. Taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself to stand. “I feel like I’m 100 years old,” you mutter crossly.

“You’re the sexiest 100-year-old I’ve ever seen,” Eddie teases and you roll your eyes.

The two of you munch on cereal as Eddie gives you a rundown of his day. “I’ll be at the store from 9 to 5, and then I’ll be right home. You need anything, even if you think it might be a false alarm, just call me. All my employees are on standby in case I need a shift covered.”

“Got it. So, don’t have a DIY home birth.” You give him a thumbs-up. “I know the drill, Eds. I’ll be here watching trash TV and eating ice cream like a good pregnant lady.” Your maternity leave started last week, allowing you to stay off your feet.

He flicks your hand and places his own on top of it. “That’s my girl!”

There’s no need to call Eddie that day, or the day after, until it’s Halloween and you’re still pregnant. It falls on a Saturday this year, which means that Eddie is scheduled to work. He’s ambivalent about going in today with you six days overdue, but you brush off his concerns with a wave of your hand.

“At this rate, I don’t think this baby is ever coming out,” you joke, then poke your belly. “You’re too comfy in there!”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, his eyes filled with concern.

“Positive. The record store isn’t so far away, and I’ll let you know if I feel even the slightest contraction.” You’re saying this to put his mind at ease, but the truth is, you started feeling some contractions earlier this morning. Your doctor said that contractions don’t necessarily mean labor is happening that day, so you��re waiting until they get closer together.

What Eddie doesn’t know won’t kill him, right?

“Still no baby, Munson?” Steve asks as he and Andy stride into the store for their weekly excursion.

“No baby?” Andy repeats. He’s been speaking in one- to two-word sentences, and his favorite thing to say is…whatever his dad’s just said.

“Sorry, bulldozer,” Eddie reaches over to tickle Andy. “No new cousin for you yet.”

“Y/N must be completely miserable. Nancy was only two days overdue with this guy, and I thought she was gonna bite my head off.”

“If she doesn’t start labor soon, she might kill me,” Eddie sighs. “Last night she started crying because she was angry that I got her pregnant.”

Steve laughs. “Sounds about right.” He puts Andy down, who immediately runs over to a box of cassettes, knocking them over. The tot wails and flops down on the floor.

“Hey, buddy, it’s all good,” Eddie reassures him calmly. “Didja get hurt?” Andy shakes his head. “Ah, just a little scared, then?”

“Scared,” he whimpers, but his crying slows.

“I bet you scared the tapes, too!” Eddie picks up a cassette and talks to it. “Did the big Andy monster attack you?” he scrunches up his nose and Andy laughs through his tears.

“Help Uncle Eddie put them back, okay?” Steve nudges him, and Andy clumsily places the tapes back in the box.

Crisis averted, Eddie thinks. And then the phone rings.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as Eddie runs to grab it. “H-hello? I mean, Record Emporium, this is—”

“Eddie, I need you to come home.” His heart soars as he hears your voice on the other end of the line. “I’ve been having contractions, and now they’re 15 minutes apart.”

How does she sound so calm? He wonders silently. “Okay, babe. I’ll let someone know I need my shift covered, and I’ll be home as soon as I can.” His heart races. By this time tomorrow, he could be a father. He could have a little baby sleeping in his arms.

“Drive safely,” you remind him. “Don’t want you getting into an accident. I need you by my side so I can squeeze your hand till it breaks.”

“Okay. I-I will. I love you,” he says before hanging up the phone.

“You good?” Steve calls from across the store, making sure Andy doesn’t cause any more damage.

“Harrington,” Eddie announces, “it’s baby time.”

You wouldn’t mind having a nice, quiet ride to the hospital, a calm before the storm, but Eddie asks you a million questions during the 30-minute drive.

“How are you feeling?”

“Are you okay?”

“Am I driving too fast?”

“Am I driving too slow?”

“Are you having another contraction?”

“What do they, like, feel like?”

“Eddie!” you finally snap, “if you don’t stop asking questions, I will have this baby in the car out of pure spite.” He closes his mouth, and you feel bad. “Why don’t we listen to music?” you suggest kindly, popping in a Black Sabbath cassette.

“Is this music good for the baby?”

“Eddie, I swear to God, I’ll start pushing right now.”

Eddie calms down once you’ve gotten situated in the room and the nurses can tend to you. He plops down in a chair and takes a deep breath. He’s already called your parents and Wayne, all of whom are on their way to meet their grandbaby.

The doctors and nurses talk to you both, keeping you updated on your progress. After you get your epidural, your teeth start to chatter.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, rushing to your side.

“’M cold, Eds,” you whine softly. “Epidural’s making me shiver. ‘S normal, don’t worry.” Still, he asks for another blanket from the next nurse he sees. You’re finally able to rest, the pain of the contractions slightly eased. You can’t get too comfortable because of all the IVs and machines you’re connected to, but it’s certainly better than writhing in pain. You even manage to fall asleep for half an hour before the sound of your doctor’s footsteps wakes you.

“Well, Mrs. Munson, we’ve been at this for nine hours already,” she states, flipping through your chart. “Let’s see how baby’s doing, hmm?”

“I feel...feel like I have to push,” you groan. The contractions are really close together and you don’t know how much longer you can keep going before you pass out from exhaustion.

“Looks like we’re at 10 centimeters!” she announces. Eddie’s pulled his chair up next to you, stroking your hand with his thumb and bringing it to his lips for tender kisses. When he hears what the doctor says, he squeezes tight.

“This is it!” he whispers excitedly. “You’re so brave, sweetheart. I can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re the strongest, most bad-ass person I know.”

You manage a giggle. “I love you, Eddie Munson.”

After an hour of pushing, you’re holding your tiny baby in your arms.

“I’m so happy,” you coo as she lets out a yawn. “Daddy and I are so happy you’re finally here!” You turn to Eddie. He’s physically and emotionally exhausted but grinning from ear to ear.

“I have a daughter,” he says, awestruck. “She’s so perfect. I just…I just don’t get it. How is she so perfect?”

“Beats me. You and I are a mess,” you tease as a nurse knocks on the door.

“Hi there,” she calls softly. “I’ve got some grandparents who would love to see you.” Your parents and Wayne wave from the doorway.

“Come on in,” you say. The adrenaline of labor is quickly wearing off, and you feel yourself in desperate need for a nap. Still, you aren’t going to deny them time with their first grandchild.

Eddie gently takes your daughter into his arms. “I’d like you all to meet Melody Joy Munson,” he announces. “Melody because she is the sweetest music I’ve ever heard, and Joy for—”

“For your mother,” Wayne finishes, tears in his eyes. “She would be so proud of you. Both of you,” he amends, “and she would’ve spoiled the hell out of this little girl.”

You nod, and Eddie adds, “Oh, she would’ve bought her every frilly pink outfit she could find.”

After 10 minutes of newborn snuggles, you start to fall asleep, and the proud grandparents head home. It took some bargaining, but Wayne eventually puts Melody back in her bassinet, but not before promising that he’ll never put her down once she comes home.

You’re asleep for all of 45 minutes before you’re greeted with more guests.

“The Munson family is very popular,” the nurse quips jokingly, and it warms you from the inside out. We’re a family.

Steve and Nancy file in quietly. “Sorry to wake you,” Nancy whispers, “but we just had to meet the baby. We’ll only be a few minutes, I swear.”

“’S’okay,” you reply tiredly, managing a small smile. Eddie puts his hand on your shoulder, a silent I got this, as your friends peer over at your daughter.

“Melody, this is Aunt Nancy and Uncle Steve. They have a son named Andy. We’ll try to keep him from stampeding over you.” Melody stirs but doesn’t cry.

“Such a good baby,” Nancy swoons. “Almost makes me want another one—almost,” she clarifies as she catches Steve’s cocked eyebrow.

“Y/N, Eddie, she’s adorable. I love her already,” Steve puts a hand on Eddie’s back. “Can I hold her?” he asks anxiously. Eddie nods, lifting Melody into Steve’s arms. You take in the sight of your husband and your friend bonding over your baby, and you nearly melt.

Nancy sits next to you. “You get some rest,” she orders gently, offering a kind smile. She’s always looked out for you. “But first,” her voice drops to a whisper, “how did Eddie do during your labor?”

You laugh even though it hurts. “Surprisingly well. I thought I was gonna murder him on the drive over, though. Asking me 14,000 questions while I’m trying to breathe through my contractions.”

“Good. If he passed out or something, I’d kill him myself.” She suddenly looks over at Steve, who nods amidst your confusion.

“We actually have a little surprise,” he says. The door bursts open before he can finish his thought.

“Uncle Dusty’s here!”

Eddie spins around, and you’re grateful he’s already handed Melody to Steve. “Henderson! You’re here!”

Dustin pushes past Eddie and goes straight toward the baby in Steve’s arms. “Lemme see! I don’t believe that Eddie could make a cute kid.”

Eddie ruffles Dustin’s curly hair. “Lucky for you, she looks just like her mom.”

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathes, “Eddie Munson has a daughter.”

“That’s what I said!” Eddie laughs. “So, what, Henderson? You cut class just to see me?”

“No, I cut class just to see her,” Dustin points at Melody. “Actually, I told my professors that I’ll be out for a few days because my brother and sister-in-law just had a baby.” He’s bashful as he says it, but you’re truly touched.

“You wanna hold her?” you ask, and he nods in response. Steve hands the sleeping baby over to Dustin.

“She’s beautiful,” he says, and you can tell he’s choking back tears. “What’s her name?”

“Melody Joy,” you answer, blinking back tears of your own.

“Well, hi there, Melody Joy,” Dustin coos. “I’m gonna be your favorite uncle. And when you get older, I’m gonna teach you all about Dungeons and Dragons. You roll your eyes lovingly as he continues.

“Can I tell you a secret? Your mom and dad are amazing, incredible people. Always looking out for their friends. Who knows where I’d be without your dad taking me under his wing? And who knows where he’d be without your mom making sure he takes care of himself?

“But do you know what the best part about our weird little makeshift family is? You never run out of love. When life beats you down and you feel like you can’t get back up, you have a whole army of people ready to help you. Because we love each other. And we love you, little Melody Joy.

“Welcome to the family.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #dad!eddie series

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 year

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Unfaithful

Pairing: JoeQuinnxReader

Summary: Request

You've been cheated on by your husband. You're a bit older than Joe. You're nursing your sorrows at the bar and he shows up, offering to buy you a drink and to help you forget all about that dick of a husband.

18+ Only

Men sucked. You sat at the bar, nursing your Jack and Coke, ruminating on the shitshow your life had suddenly become. This morning you had headed off to work thinking you were happily married. Maybe not overjoyed about it but definitely content. No marriage was perfect but you’d thought the two of you were doing okay. This evening, you learned your husband wasn’t as happily married as you were.

Her name was Layla and she was his secretary. His secretary that was twelve years younger than you, a perky and youthful 25 to your 37. They’d been sneaking around together for six months and you’d been dumb enough to fall for it. You’d believed him when he said he had to work late or go out of town for a meeting. It was all a lie. Your marriage was nothing but a sham and you were the idiot left sitting here alone in a bar, trying to drink it all away.

You caught sight of yourself in the mirror over the back of the bar, the fine lines that were beginning to show on your forehead and around your eyes, the gray hairs that had begun sprouting that you covered up monthly at the salon, the softer padding that had developed around your middle as you’d lacked time to keep up with your fitness routine. No wonder he’d found someone else. Look at you. You were a complete disaster. Of course he wanted someone younger, someone more beautiful, someone with a tight ass and perky breasts.

You were attempting to catch the bartender’s eye so you could order your third drink, determined to down enough liquor until you were numb, until you couldn’t feel all the anger and despair that was threatening to drown you.

You rolled your eyes as a guy hopped onto the stool next to yours, not even bothering to glance at him. Why did he have to pick the stool right by you when there were plenty of other seating options around? You so did not feel like having to listen to some jerk pass you his best one-liners. You just wanted to be left alone to wallow in your own self-pity.

“What are you drinking there, love?”

The soft British accent caught your attention, something you didn’t hear every day. You turned your head and were met with a pair of brown eyes that were as warm and inviting as a cup of tea on a cold evening. A bright and infectious smile graced lips that were so full and perfectly pink that you couldn’t help wondering what they would feel like pressed against your own. A tousle of brown curls topped his head, looking so soft that you itched to touch them. And that beard…the perfect length, just enough that you could almost imagine how good it would feel rubbing along your thighs.

You shook your head. Jesus Christ! What in the hell were you doing? What was wrong with you? You were married. You’d just found out your husband was cheating on you. You were losing it. That’s all this was. Some good looking British guy was smiling at you and you were desperate to feel like anything other than the hot mess you currently were.

He raised his eyebrows at you and you realized you’d never answered his question because you’d been so lost in how fucking attractive he was. You looked back at your empty glass before raising your eyes to his again. Shit, he really was so damn beautiful. Where did he get off looking like that?

“Your drink?” he asked again, pointing at your glass.

“Oh, it’s just a Jack and Coke,” you answered.

He raised his hand, waving the bartender down, “Can I get a dirty martini with olives and can the lady get another Jack and Coke?” The bartender nodded, turning to make the drinks and the beautiful stranger held his hand out to you. “I’m Joe.”

“Y/N,” you replied, reaching for his hand. The moment your skin met, it was like shockwaves straight to your center. You pressed your thighs together, willing your body to cooperate with you. He smiled again and you noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkled. It was a genuine smile, a reach your eyes, kind of smile and when you saw the little dimple form on his cheek you melted.

“So, just needing to be alone or out to get completely pissed?” asked Joe as the bartender set your drinks down.

“Completely what?” you questioned in confusion. “I’m not pissed. I mean, I am pissed actually but I don’t want to be pissed.”

Joe laughed and you groaned softly. Even his laugh was beautiful. It was a sincere, joyful sound that rose from his belly. You’d barely met this man but you could already tell what you saw was what you got. Or was it? You clearly hadn’t been the best judge of character as of late.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I’m British. Pissed means drunk but on that note, I am quite intrigued. What could have a beautiful lady such as yourself so pissed off?”

“A cheating, lying, dick of a husband,” you muttered, taking a long drink of your Jack and Coke before slamming it back down on the bar.

“Well…” he replied, those eyebrows almost meeting his hairline, tiny little lines creasing his forehead. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“I suppose this is very bad timing on my part,” conceded Joe. “I just noticed a very lovely lady sitting all alone at the bar, no wedding ring, and I thought I would buy you a drink. I would still like to, but if you don’t want that right now, just say the word and I will go.”

You looked up at the beautiful Brit sitting next to you, sipping his martini. Fuck, you should tell him to go but you didn’t want to. Your husband was a lying, cheating bastard. What did it matter what you did? Why should you care about his feelings? You had spent the last ten years with a guy having mediocre sex at best. What would it be like to be with someone new, someone exciting, someone that was the complete opposite of your worthless husband?

“No actually,” you replied, offering him a smile as you turned on your stool to face him. “A drink with you sounds good. I could use the company.”

“Well, good,” he grinned, raising his glass to you before taking a sip. “So, can I ask what kind of moron cheated when he had a stunning wife like you at home?”

You laughed, “Yeah, well, he cheated with his secretary who is twelve years younger and a whole lot perkier than I am.” You took another drink, closing your eyes and relishing the way the liquor was loosening all the tense places within you.

“Twelve years younger?” Joe asked, a skeptical look on his face. “How old was she? Sixteen?”

You almost choked on your drink, “Oh come on. You’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think? There’s no way you think I am only 28.”

“How old are you?”

“37,” you answered, staring him down. “How old are you?”

“I’m 29.”

“Jesus,” you groaned, bringing your fingers to press against your forehead. “You’re a goddamn baby. Come on. Why are you sitting here talking to me?” You gestured around the bar with your hand. “There have got to be plenty of younger ladies here tonight that you would find far more desirable?”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he replied, spinning on his stool. He leaned back, his elbow resting on the bar. “There is not another woman here who can compare to you, darling. You caught my eye from the moment I walked in that door. And you don’t look 37.”

“Please,” you snorted. “I have lines on my face.”

“So do I,” said Joe, pointing to his forehead and the corners of his eyes. “Those are just proof of a lot of laughs and a lot of life lived.”

“Wow, you must have really good luck with the ladies,” you chuckled. “You are one smooth operator.”

Joe shrugged, “I’m not trying to be smooth, just being honest. Your husband is a real wanker for not seeing what he had right in front of him.” He leaned forward, his lips right next to your ear as his fingers trailed along your bare arm. “If you give me the chance, I can treat you the way you deserve to be treated, the way he should have treated you. Let me show you just how desirable I find you.”

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, heat pooling between your thighs. Damn, you wanted this. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly felt desired, truly felt desire, truly felt a craving for someone. Sex with your husband had become just something you did because it was what married people do. It was a once a week thing you checked off a to-do list. You wanted passion. You wanted lust and need and longing.

“Do you live close by?” you whispered, shocked at your own forwardness, your willingness to head off with this man you didn’t even know.

“I live across the pond but my hotel isn’t far from here,” he offered, tossing some bills on the bar as he stood and offered you his hand. You met those beautiful chocolate eyes and took it.

Joe hailed down a cab in front of the bar and you both climbed in. Those beautiful fingers, that soft hand, rested on your knee as the cab pulled away. Your skin felt like it was ablaze under his touch. You could feel how wet you already were just from the anticipation of what was to come when you got to the hotel.

Those fingers moved along your thigh, slipping under your skirt and you gasped. The cab driver’s eyes met yours in the mirror and you worked to mask your face so he wouldn’t notice that the man next to you was under your skirt. His eyes went back to the road and you almost sighed in relief but then Joe’s fingers slid along the edge of your panties and you had to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“Mmm…you’re so wet, love,” he whispered softly, two of those fingers moving beneath your panties and pressing into you. “Fuck, I can’t wait to know what that pussy feels like wrapped around my cock.”

Jesus Christ. You couldn’t believe how brazen he was being with the cab driver right there. You had never been one for exhibitionism but damn if it wasn’t even hotter, knowing if you couldn’t keep control that the driver would know what was happening.

His fingers slid from within you, rubbing along your slick until he found your clit. You bit your lip so hard, you could taste the blood, fighting back the desperate urge to scream, to release this pressure cooker of ecstasy he was boiling within you.

“You have to stay quiet,” Joe whispered as if he could read your mind. “Don’t want us to get caught.”

The knot in your stomach tightened as those expert fingers worked you until your thighs were shaking. Then they were gone. You looked around, stunned and confused for a moment, until you noticed that you were in front of the hotel. You couldn’t get out of the cab fast enough. Joe chuckled, paying the driver, as he came around the cab and took your hand, leading you into the hotel and to the elevator.

The doors opened and you both stepped inside. The minute they closed, he was on you, pressing you against the wall, his body molding against yours, those luscious lips moving over yours, his thigh pushing against your center. This time, you let the moan come, rocking yourself against him, desperation as you’d never known invading your body, needing release, needing him. Your fingers slid into those curls and fuck, they were just as soft as they looked.

A soft ding sounded through the elevator as the doors slid open. Joe backed you out of the elevator, his lips never leaving yours, his hands roaming along every inch of your body as he continued moving you backward until your back was up against the door of his room. He fumbled in his back pocket until he found the key, continuing to kiss you as it took him three tries to get the door opened.

The two of you stumbled into the room, you grabbing the bottom of his fuzzy blue sweater, pulling it over his head. Your eyes raked over his body, fit but soft in all the right places, an enticing trail of soft hair leading into his jeans. He smirked when he caught where your eyes were focused and you felt yourself flush.

“No worries, love,” he assured, his voice thick with desire, those warm brown eyes now flashing with desire. “You’ll get to find where that trail leads soon enough but first, I need to finish what I started.”

Joe’s hands rested on your shoulders, pressing you back against the wall as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His eyes gazed up at you as his hands slid under your skirt again, pulling your panties down your legs. You lifted one foot and then the other so he could dispatch them.

“I am going to worship you like the queen you are, darling,” he purred, lifting your leg and propping it over his shoulder, opening you up to him. His face moved between your legs, his nose running over your clit and you whimpered, your head making a thunk against the wall as it fell back. His tongue ran from your entrance all the way up to your clit. “Fuck, I knew I had to taste you from the moment I saw you in that bar.”

Joe devoured you like a man starved. You thought you’d had a pretty good sex life but fuck, you had never felt like this before. His tongue was like nothing you’d ever known, swirling in circles, darting over your clit, sucking it between his lips before slipping down and moving within you. Your entire body shook, shockwaves of pleasure rolling through you as he tortured you to the brink of oblivion before bringing you back, only to send you there again.

“Oh my god…” you whimpered, your fingers sliding through his hair, gripping it, pressing his face against you. You rolled your hips, rubbing yourself against him, overcome with a need for release. “Fuck, that’s so good…Jesus…”

Just as you thought it couldn’t get any better, Joe slipped two fingers inside you once again, curling and twisting them in a way you didn’t even know was possible, as he sucked your sensitive little bud between his lips like he was sucking on a jolly rancher.

“Fuck!” you shrieked as your orgasm ripped through you, slapping the wall with your open hand so loud you hoped no one was in the room next door. Your leg shook so badly you feared you would fall but Joe’s free hand gripped your hip, offering you stability. Sounds you didn’t even know you were capable of flowed from you as Joe continued working you through the waves of your release.

As you slowly came down, he slid up your body, his hands resting on either side of your head on the wall. A slow, sexy smile crossed his lips, “Do you feel desired, love?”

“Jesus Christ,” you gasped, hands resting on his shoulders since you still didn’t trust your legs. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“It’s not that hard,” he offered, his lips trailing kisses along the side of your neck. “Some men don’t concern themselves with ensuring their lady leaves satisfied. I do.” He grabbed your shirt, pulling it over your head and then made quick work of your bra. “I find the most pleasure in making sure the woman I am with has her needs met.” Those lips headed south, moving over your breasts, taking your nipple between them. “There is nothing more sexy than listening to the sounds of pleasure a woman makes, the faces she makes when she’s enjoying herself.”

“And what about you? I believe I was told I could find out what that trail led to,” you mused, bringing his face back to yours so you could kiss him. You slid your tongue past his lips, moaning into his mouth at the taste of him, vermouth, olives, and cigarettes as your fingers worked at the button on his jeans.

You pushed his jeans and his boxers down over his hips, breaking from the kiss so you could see the treasure you’d uncovered. Shit, everything about this man was beautiful. Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his cock, gripping him as you moved it along his length.

Joe groaned, his forehead pressing against yours, “Bloody hell, darling. I need to know what that pretty little pussy feels like.”

He grabbed your waist, tossing you onto the bed. Joe slid a condom on and then climbed over you, his lips moving along your neck again, his hard length pressing into you. You wound your legs around his hips, needing to know what that glorious cock felt like filling you up. Joe’s hand grabbed your wrists, holding them together as his other hand guided himself to your entrance. He pressed into your slowly, his eyes focused on yours the entire time.

“Oh shit…” you gasped as he buried himself to the hilt within you, pausing and relishing the feel of your bodies coming together in sweet perfection. “Joe…”

“Jesus, you feel even better than I imagined,” he groaned as he began to move his hips, his cock stretching you completely.

Your hands came up to rest on his back, your fingers feeling along his shoulder blades. He was moving agonizingly slow, drawing out the experience. It felt incredible but you were also aching for him to move faster, harder, to completely take you, own you, make you his.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded, rocking your hips in an effort to show him what you needed.

“Words, darling,” he urged, that little smirk playing at his lips, causing that dimple you wanted to dive into to appear on his cheek once again.

“Joe, faster…harder…please…fuck me,” you managed.

“Your wish is my command, love,” growled Joe, he thrust into you with force. The bed began to rock, audibly hitting the wall and you cried out in relief. “Tell me, darling. How does that feel?”

“It’s fucking amazing,” you panted, your nails raking along the skin of his back, causing him to hiss.

Joe gripped your calf, lifting your leg up by your ear and you cried out in pleasure as this new angle created sensations you’d never experienced before. His other hand released your wrists, gripping the headboard as he drove into you again and again, your bodies colliding over and over in a frenzied blur of want and lust.

“Shit, darling, I’m close,” he rumbled. “Come for me, love. Touch yourself. Come for me again.”

You obeyed, your hand snaking between your bodies, your finger finding your clit and working over it. It didn’t take much. Joe had you so wound up, your body was just aching to let go again. Your entire body tensed, back arching, as your second orgasm rolled through you.

“That’s a good girl,” praised Joe, thrusting once, twice, and then his body stilled, pressing into you, his grip on your leg tightening and you felt as every muscle in him went taut with his release, a strangled roar rising from within his chest.

His body shuddered over you and his head dipped down, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. He rose from the bed, disposing of the condom, before lying down next to you, his arm resting over his head, releasing a long, slow breath of satisfaction.

You glanced over at him before sitting up, looking for where your clothes had wound up. This had been amazing but it was what it was, a one night stand. You were sure he was ready to be done with you now. You told yourself that was okay but the truth was, you wanted more of him. You’d never had sex like that before. It was…earth shattering, life changing. It was like nothing you’d ever known and neither was the man. There was something so comforting about him. You’d just met him but for some reason you trusted him.

“Hey, what you doing there, darling?” he asked, reaching out for you and pulling you down against him, your head resting against his chest. “You’re not thinking of leaving already, are you?”

“Oh, I mean…I just assumed…this was a one time thing. I don’t want to make it more complicated than it is.”

Those eyes looked down at you as he lifted his head, “Do you want this to be a one time thing?”

“Isn’t that what this is? I mean…I thought that’s what you thought it was.”

“I thought you might stay over,” he said with a smile. “I thought we might order some room service for breakfast, maybe have a repeat of what just happened, and then you could show me around your city for the day. How does that sound?”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hide how delighted that made you, “That sounds pretty good, actually.”

“Good,” Joe said, his finger bringing your chin up so he could kiss you again before he gathered you in his arms. “I quite like you, you know. I’d like to get to know you better. I’d like to show you how a real man treats a lady.”

You laughed softly, “Trust me, you already have.”

#joe quinn #joe quinn smut #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x reader

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fleetwood-mac-andcheese · 1 year

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On Wednesday, I completed my last round of cancer treatment. I didn't really feel like posting about it at the time because we won't know if it worked until my MRI next month. I am now 25 years old and was originally diagnosed when I was 12. I have had cancer for more than half of my life, which is both tragic and encouraging. Tragic because, well, no one wants to have cancer, but encouraging because I have lived in spite of the cancer. When I was 12, I was offered a wish from the Make-A-Wish Foundation. I turned it down. I believed there were other patients who were worse off than I was who could benefit more from a wish. When I was 14, I got another tumor, then another at 16, and another at 17. It was then that I decided I had earned a wish afterall. For my wish, I asked to meet either John or Hank Green. The Make-A-Wish people said they would reach out and get back to me. Three months later, I got a call from my case manager saying the Greens had come back with a counter-offer. They would fly me, my family, and a friend out to Boston, give us tickets to NerdCon: Nerdfighteria 2017, reserved seating at any panel I wanted, and a private sit-down with John and Hank. It was a dream come true. I brought one of my best friends, a person with whom I have since lost touch. We spent the weekend having fun at every panel we could attend and then came time for my private meet up with John and Hank. They talked to me, not like a kid with cancer, not like an eager fan, but like an equal, like a person they were genuinely excited to get to know. John even complimented my Facebook banner, which had his face on it. Hank asked me about my plans for college. It was a truly remarkable experience. After it was over, when I was deboarding the plane after landing back in Oregon, I began crying, because I believed I would never be that happy ever again. I have had six more tumors since then. My current treatment looks promising. I wish Hank Green all the luck in his coming journey. I wish him the compassionate doctors I have been fortunate enough to have; I wish him the supportive community that has blessed me my entire life; I wish him the happiness he granted me that weekend in 2017; above all, I wish him health and a speedy recovery.

#tw cancer #cancer #cancer tw #hank green #john green #vlogbrothers #nerdfighteria #original #jamie talks #personal

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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Day 25: Face Sitting - Eddie Munson

Kinktober Day 25: Face Sitting - Eddie Munson x f!reader

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, self-doubt, anxiety, soft!eddie, oral (f receiving), face sitting, nicknames, no use of y/n

my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link

“I'm ready when you are babe”, Eddie spoke confidently with a hint of excitement as he looked at you from across the room.

You stood nervously in the middle of his bedroom, feeling sorry for yourself and self-conscious in your cheerleading outfit from practice earlier however, your panties were gone, leaving you bare beneath the skirt.

The missing material now hides in the pocket of your boyfriend's jeans pockets, who lay in the middle of his bed, looking eagerly at you with outstretched hands.

Rubbing your elbows, you looked to the floor, “I’m not sure Eddie”.

The long-haired musician rolled his eyes dramatically, wiggling his fingers for you to come over. “We’ve talked about this honey, please just come and sit on my face, I’ve been waiting patiently all day for this”.

To his credit, he had been waiting patiently but longer than just today. You had always been scared to do this act, specifically because you were worried about squishing or smothering him or that he would hate it. You much preferred to give than to receive but you were sure it was because of your past boyfriend who made horrible comments that he never would please you like that.

It had taken you a while to explain your reasonings to Eddie who was more than angry, wanting to go and find your ex for ever treating you so poorly before turning his attention back to you, practically begging you that relationships were supposed to be this way and that he wanted nothing more than to have you laid out before him with his face between your legs.

But you declined every time, that self-doubt always getting in the way. Until today, it was your six-month anniversary and you wanted to treat Eddie but all he asked was to have you sit on his face so he could pleasure you like the princess that you were, it had taken some convincing but finally, you agreed.

Eddie dropped his hands, noting your internal struggle so sat up, reaching forward to gently hold your hands, kissing the back of your knuckles softly, “I promise, that there's nothing I want more than to taste your sweet sweet pussy”.

You drop your head down to hide the smile on your face after hearing the want in Eddie’s voice. He wanted to see the delighted expression so tilted your chin up, “I love you” he whispered trying to catch your eye.

“I love you too” you smiled back.

“Good” he moves to lie back down on the bed, “now sit on my face princess”.

His excitement had you nervously laughing, finding the courage to begin climbing on the bed, seeing that Eddie was smiling like an idiot at you finally moving closer. As you reach his chest you being to feel exposed, feeling the draft brushing underneath your skirt, especially as you straddled over him with his hands on your hips helping so you didn’t topple over.

Finally, you rested on your knees on either side of his face, hands resting on the wall for balance as you looked down at Eddie nervously chewing on your bottom lip as only his eyes were visible due to your skirt.

With motivation from Eddie’s large hands on your hips, tentatively you began lowering your hips, feeling his nose against your folds first that had you wanting to move up but he held you firmly, his face now completely disappearing behind your skirt so you couldn't see him.

He didn’t waste time in licking up your entire cunt, his tongue delving between your lips and tasting the delicious juices he had been desperate to have in his mouth for months. You both moaned at the contact, you tried to fight the urge to sit up, but his own groans helped to calm your nerves that he wasn’t enjoying it.

Eddie’s long warm tongue first teased around your entrance, causing your walls to flutter in anticipation before he lifted his chin slightly to push in, licking and fucking slowly. He pushed as far as he could, making sure to bend his tongue to prod against the sensitive spot within that had your head dropping back, another moan tearing from your lips.

Your body also seemed to relax as he continued to tease you, one hand dropping from the wall to reach beneath your skirt to hold onto his long curly hair. This was just as he inched towards the nub at the apex of your thighs, starting by almost tickling the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, brushing back and forth until your own hips began following his movements.

It was like your body automatically knew which was to move, your hips rocking back and forth, the hand in his hair helping to move with his talented tongue.

“Eddie” you moaned out, feeling your body come alive from the actions of his mouth.

Your movements were becoming more frantic as you relaxed more into it, fully riding his face now as his tongue moved back inside of you and his nose masterly knocked against your clit as he nodded his head helping with the stimtulation.

Both of his hands helped your hips to move as well, his strong grip holding your support, tightening as you began moaning more, feeling the gradual tightening in your core. Your thighs began aching now from the position but you didn’t pay it any attention, only thinking about the man between your legs, both of you chasing your orgasm.

It hit you suddenly, the waves of euphoria that caused your body to jolt and cunt to contract in pulses, Eddie’s name leaving your mouth like a prayer in the wind, softly spoken in ecstasy.

Trying to catch your breath, you sat back with Eddie’s aid until you were sat lightly on his chest, his hands massaging the muscles in your thighs to ease the ache he knew you were probably experiencing. Looking down, you couldn’t help but smile shyly noticing the wet sheen over his face from your arousal but he didn’t seem phased, simply licking his lips before grinning up at you.

You wanted to tell him how amazing it felt, how thankful you were for helping you get to this point, how much you loved him but all you could muster up to say was “wow”.

Eddie chuckled at your glazed-over expression, tilting his head, either way, to kiss both of your thighs, “ready for round two” he wiggled his eyebrows causing you to giggle, stroking his cheek affectionately.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #mine*

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kooktrash · 2 years

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lover’s revenge | kim taehyung ROCKSTAR AU

summary | you dated Taehyung before he made it big, so it was easy to assume he’d forgotten all about you. but for the past two years you’ve been his muse even after your split. a forbidden love that never faded.

warnings | 13.4k words. rockstar!Taehyung x f!reader, BAND AU, smut, angst, bad parenting [your dad hates tae], age gap [18/21, later on 22/25], family problems, break ups, heart ache, mentions of tobacco, smuuut. cock worshipping, cunnilingus, face sitting, oral [m and f], safe sex, soft sex, floor sex, dirty talk but soft,

visuals: Tae’s band plays music like the neighbourhood and cigarettes after sex type shit

2020

He slumped back, hair falling over his face staring at the garage light above him. He was trying his best to listen to his bandmates. They were going on and on about new music, something that'd help them get a deal. He couldn’t be with you anymore, so there was no reason for him to stick around and stall his future. Getting signed was the only way they could see themselves achieving their dreams. He was feeling conflicted though, between wanting to help his bandmates and his feelings.

In reality though he was just scared to bring back old feelings. They weren't even that old, six months that's all he's had to come back to his old self. It was his way of coping actually, repressing his emotions until they no longer bothered him. The first week was the hardest, he couldn't get out of bed or even shower. He couldn't eat and all he wanted to do was sleep, forget everything that had happened. But then anytime he'd go to sleep, his body would ache missing the feeling of someone else in his arms.

The second week it got a littler better. He was responding to his friend's messages again, being more focused on practice, and eating at least one full meal a day. He still aches for your touch but he was able to hide it better behind packs of cigarettes and alcohol late at night. His friends stopped asking him how he was doing and he stopped showing how affected he still was.

As time went on he got better at hiding it. There wouldn’t be any awkward silence when it was his turn to speak, or people walking on egg shells around him. Every now and then when he'd be laughing over something and suddenly he'd struggle to hide his sudden change in emotions. He'd think about your laugh, when you’d laugh so hard that you wouldn't be able to breathe anymore. You would hold your nose, trying to silence yourself from making the screeching noise that came out when you laughed. Or how you’d get cute lines on the side of your eyes. Then he'd think about what made you laugh, and how usually it was because of something you said or did.

So when they asked him to try and write again he was originally distraught. How was he supposed to write songs like how he used to? Writing about love and adolescence but now he couldn't write about that. How was he supposed to write about being in love or feeling happy when he felt the complete opposite.

Anytime he thought about writing he thought about you. How you left him or no, he left you? He could never really understand which but it didn’t matter. He missed your kisses and touches on his skin. The warmth you brought when he'd hold you in his arms late at night after sneaking into your room. Your pretty smile and photogenic features always picture perfect on his cameras. Or their arguments where tears would be running down your face and his voice would become too hoarse because of the constant yelling back and forth.

But he tried writing again, and he couldn't help that all he could write about was you, he just didn't know how much it'd change his life.

It was easier for you, at least during the day. You’d spend all your time studying, paying attention in class, going out with classmates, anything really. If it could distract you long enough to not go through your old pictures, you did it. Your friends didn't ask how you were doing anymore, you were obvious with how you felt. You were better, or at least they thought you were l. Behind your smile you’d find yourself unable to hold back from thinking about him.

How he'd sneak into your room through your window late at night after you would get into a fight, and he'd have the biggest pout on his face trying to butter you up into letting him stay the night after your parents went to sleep, they never liked him. You’d think about how he'd lay on top of you, head rested on your chest as you played with his hair listening to him hum a new sound asking if it was good enough for a song on his mind.

Or when he'd have you sit between his parted legs, arms wrapped around yours, hands holding as he helped you try and find the G on the guitar. He'd kiss your hair when you’d cheer for finally playing something audible even if it was just two simple notes that'd have you giddy between his legs and arms.

It's been six months already, you should be at least a little moved on by now. You’ve started University like your parents wanted. You’ve made new friends, you should be moving on now. You weren’t. He was your first real love. You still thought about him late at night alone in your bedroom. How he used to sneak in and bring snacks so you could eat them on the roof of parent’s house watching the moon and talking about your future together. You were twenty and in love. Had been for two years already. Since you were eighteen, that’s when you met him. He was the cool musician guy working at the record store. He was a couple years older, just 21, but your parents hated him for dropping out of school. It didn’t make you love him any less.

You were trying to get over him though, you’d look whenever your friends would tell you there was a cute guy interested in you, you’d message and hang out in group settings but emotionally you weren’t ready at all. Not when someone would give you a smile and all you could see was Taehyung’s cute little boxy smile. How he'd grin so wide whenever you’d cheer at every band practice.

But it was only six months ago, and you were together two years during your most vulnerable years.

2021

You’d been in the middle of a drive to your friend's house. At first you couldn't recognize the sound, something completely new, but the soft melodic voice began singing. It felt like everything was spinning, it took everything in you not to go down on your brakes and stop the car instantly. The rain thudded against your window, you slowly drove off the main road, parked to the side of the street trying to get a better listen. You could be right, right ?

Turning the music up, you listen carefully to the song playing on the radio.

Kim Taehyung was playing in the radio. He’d made it.

It had been an entire year already, struggling to even think about anything but him for months, like a broken record constantly putting the thought of him in your brain. And on a day where he hadn't crossed your mind yet did the music play. You could spot his voice even if he was muffled by thousands in a heartbeat.

It was too engraved into your brain to forget. How could you forget the gentle voice that used to sing to you on a late night? You’d be in his arms hearing him him lightly feeling the vibrations of his chest as you rested your cheek on it.

The late afternoons by the bridge where the two would sit, bags spread out along with pens and notebooks content with watching you study. His straight posture as he asked you to listen to yet another idea he had, lyrics flowing out in a soft melody each time. You don’t think you could ever forget what his voice sounded like, especially not playing in high volume in the small car of yours.

It was the only thing keeping him from returning to his old ways. He'd spent so much time trying to distract himself with anything possible just so he wouldn't think of you. He'd write about things like your warmth and your future or the past, but it'd always come around about you. About your smile and how it'd make his chest ache each time he was the cause of it. Or the smell of your lavender shampoo stuck in his nose all day after holding you in his arms all night.

And he sang about love, or heartbreak actually. The thought of never finding anyone like you again, and he missed you and wished to hold you in his arms. How it wasn’t your fault you didn’t work out, he didn’t blame you for leaving him. But another second would pass and he'd sing about how he hated you. How he never wanted to see you again and he hoped you weren’t doing well but only because he was angry. Sometimes that he was sorry, that he wished he could be the person your parents had wanted for you. And his songs would become angrier as time went by. They wouldn't be as soft as the one you’d heard in the car.

They wouldn't be about missing you and always loving you but instead about how you hurt him too. How you let your parent’s decide the fate of your relationship. How you didn’t fight hard enough. How you left him behind too. Songs about wanting to break girl’s hearts and get back at them. So the band's image did a huge 180 degrees from the soft love struck image they had to this darker version of rock, smoking, and sex.

The image of what your mother warned you about, turning him into what your parents hated. Almost like it was his own way to express his pain and his change, he wasn't the same boy he once was. Hell always remember what they told him, “You think you’re good enough for our daughter? A dead beat musician who can barely even take care of himself? Y/n is better than you, she always will be and you’re a sorry excuse for a man.” He remembered wanting to tell them off. You were twenty, you could make your own decisions. They acted like it was wrong for them to be together.

Your phone rang, you struggled to find the want to get back on the road and leave to your friend’s house. Digging around the console you found it, pushing it to your ear and lowering the volume of his singing voice to answer.

"Hello?" You said through the phone, holding it between your cheek and shoulder as you turned your signal light on and motioned to try and swerve into the lane.

"How are you?" You stopped, car honking behind you as you pulled back into your lane. The voice from the radio speaking softly through the end of your phone. "Y/n?"

Without thinking, you hung up, chucking the phone onto the empty passenger's side, biting your lip nervously as you finally got back on the road. There was nothing to come out from receiving a call from him. You couldn't even find it in you to answer. As much as you wanted to talk to him you knew you wouldn't be able to control yourself. You’d want to crawl back into his arms like before and forget everything that has happened since then.

But he was still confused, holding the phone in his hand looking down at the blank screen with a tight jaw. His fingers tightened around the device, inhaling slowly as his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek. He threw the phone on the bench, standing up and hiding his face in his hands.

He was an idiot to think you’d care about their debut. To think that maybe if he snuck off from practice to smoke a cigarette and call you, you’d actually stick around and hear him out. At least he knew he wasn't blocked, but he couldn't tell if that was for better or worse. You answered, you knew who he was, if you didn't you wouldn't have hung up on him so quickly.

2022

It was almost taunting you, his image staring back at you like you were still the only two people in the world. That wasn't the case though, and you’ve no reason to really be upset but you were. He was off living his dream, doing what he's always done and you felt bitter about it. The image of him smiling widely with his arm around his bandmates like he was the happiest kid in the world. The woman on his side fitting the image of the group perfectly. You wanted to blame him for leaving you behind but you couldn’t. He didn’t leave you behind, you left each other. No one was more at fault than the other but fuck did it hurt.

You didn’t care about his fame other than that you were happy for him. It’s what he’d always wanted and you’d gotten in the way of it for too long. That’s why when he called you after their debut you didn’t say anything. He had to live his life and you had to go live yours.

“You have to!” He whined dragging you along behind him, “The place just opened and we’re lucky to even get in tonight. Namjoon got us early admission since BTS is performing!”

You looked to Jimin, a pout on his face as he yanked you along. He couldn’t understand what the big deal was. You were his close friend and you couldn’t even spend his own birthday with him? Like come on, he can’t even understand what was the problem all of a sudden. How was he supposed to know that you did not want to see the band BTS perform? They were his favorite band! He didn’t know you had pictures of you with the lead singer from years before? His arm thrown around you, lips pressed against your cheek, large smile on your face.

“Fine, we’re here anyway,” you let him drag you to where your other friends stood waiting for you, “I’ve never met a birthday boy who plans his own birthday. Come on!”

A smile spread across your face as you went to your friends. It’s fine. By the looks of the line, the new club will be packed especially with the band performing tonight. Apparently close friends with the club owner, Kim Seokjin. “It’s my fucking birthday!” Was the first thing Jimin shouted when you all made it in.

You kept to his side, hiding a little. You couldn’t risk being seen even if the chances were slim. He probably wouldn’t even recognize you. Your hair was different, your style was different. You weren’t the same person he was with. Plus, he was a big time celeb now, he probably had more things to do than worry about his ex girlfriend he dated when he was younger. Maybe you were just being super conceited thinking he’d still think about you every now and then. Or hopeful, maybe.

“Let’s go get him a drink,” Namjoon told you and you nodded. You looked to your friends who surrounded Jimin taking orders before you left. Namjoon was a close friend of yours, they bother we’re actually. Jimin and Namjoon were both your seniors in college until they graduated. Jimin had a shared requisite course with you and that’s how you met. Namjoon was part of a tutoring program and he became your friend through that. The other such as Jieun, Heein, and Yuna you roomed with them in college before you moved out. You don’t talk to anyone from before going to the University and maybe it was for the better.

“I’ve still never met anyone who would rather plan every little detail of their birthday than let someone else,” you laughed lightly as you waited at the bar. You were thankful for Namjoon at the moment, he always had a way of sending something was wrong even if you didn’t tell him what. His presence was calming enough. He just laughed finally catching the bartender’s attention, “He’s a perfectionist when it comes to celebrating himself.”

“Four shots of…” you weren’t paying attention fully. Namjoon was smiling warmly at you that you didn’t notice what was going on around you. When the bartender spoke again, “Need a little boost for the stage tonight?”

You froze at his words. The stage? Not wanting to turn, you let your eyes wander off to the person standing next to you, scared to see who might be standing next to you. It was a guy with black hair, tattoos and piercings. He must’ve caught you looking because he sent you a wink. You didn’t react, eyes flickering behind him to the stage where stagehands were getting equipment ready. The stranger’s brows furrowed as he glance over to you again. Did he know you from somewhere? He didn’t bother hiding the fact that he was looking, letting his eyes trail over your features longer than necessary. When they set a tray of the shots in front of him, the bartender telling him they were on the house, he turned to you.

“Hey, have we ever met before?” He asked suddenly looking over to you. You looked back to him, Namjoon preoccupied with paying to notice and your brows only scrunched together in confusion. Was this some rockstar pick-up line? “No?”

He forced a smile on his face, “Right sorry.” And he left. He did know you from somewhere, or he’d at least seen you before. He walked back to his bandmates, shots for them all, “I’ve got the drinks!”

“Took you long enough,” Hoseok was the first to say something smiling at him as he set his drumsticks down. Jungkook paid him no mind as he stared ahead at the lead singer, “Tae, mind if I borrow cash for a tip? I don’t got any.”

Taehyung shrugged, motioning over his shoulder where his wallet was in his bag. Jungkook handed the tray to Hoseok as he went over to their pile of things. He dug through Taehyung’s bag until he found his wallet. Inside it was the usual stuff, he kept rummaging though. Hidden between some punch cards he found it. A small, wallet sized picture.

A picture of a woman. A woman with a lazy smile and half glazed over eyes. She was in a messy bed cuddled into bed sheets with a small puppy in her hands. It was then that Jungkook noticed that it was you. The one he’d just seen at the bar is the same person Taehyung kept hidden in his wallet. The only reason why Jungkook even knew of this photo is because of the time he meant to steal a couple bucks from his hyung, dropped the wallet and the picture slipped out. He wasn’t sure what to do, should he tell Taehyung who he just saw?

But then he remembered the time he asked his hyung about the mystery girl, Taehyung had gotten mad and stormed off. As if summoning him too, a hand snatched the picture and wallet out of his hands, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook looked up at him, “I—Tae—“ he took a deep breath, “Who is that again?”

“None of your business,” his voice was sharp, mean almost and he shook the thought, “Nobody, it doesn’t matter.”

“Hyung, I think I…” should he tell him? He shook his head, he shouldn’t. But he had to. He didn’t know that much about Taehyung. He barely joined the band a year ago but his band mate was always quiet and on his own. He never seemed into anything and always out of it. Did this person have a say in it? Is that why Taehyung still carried this picture around despite how sensitive the topic was. No, he had to say something. He’d feel guilty if he knew and never spoke up about it. For better or worse, Jungkook just saw the person Taehyung keeps hidden in his wallet.

“That person in the picture,” Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Alright guys!” Sungha, their manager cut in, “On stage, come on. Okay, Taehyungie?” Taehyung didn’t listen to her, Jungkook had to say something about you and he needed to know now if it was gonna piss him off or not.

“She’s here, I-I just saw her—“

“Alright let’s go!” Yoongi smiled widely, high off the thought of performing but Taehyung didn’t react.

He couldn’t stop his voice from cracking as he pointed to your picture, “H-Her?” Jungkook nodded, “At the bar.”

You were here? You came? You actually came to one of their shows? He knew this was a smaller performance, just fitting this little favor into their schedule for Jin since it was his opening night. He spent so many shows in Seoul searching for someone in the crowd who wasn’t there and now you were. Did you know he was here? Did you come alone? No, definitely not. Who goes alone on a Saturday night to a opening night for a club? Did you come with friends? A boyfriend? Probably. Why would you be single anyway? Not like you’ve been waiting for him.

“Come on,” Jungkook tried pulling Taehyung but he shook him off. Taehyung shook his head, “You’re telling me… her? You saw her? Here? Tonight? Where, tell me where is she?”

“Tae come on man!” Hobi put his hands on his shoulders leading him onto stage away from Jungkook. Jungkook just followed, maybe after the performance Taehyung could explain what’s going on.

“Holy shit they’re about to perform!” Jimin shook you, arms around your waist trying to lift you up in his excitement, “Fuck, someone get me a shot!”

“Here, here,” Jieun laughed as she handed him more alcohol. You rolled your eyes laughing as your best friend got shitfaced for his birthday. You refused to look to the stage but you could hear the cheers all around you.

It wasn’t until his voice spoke up, the same deep, calming voice speak through the mix. The same voice that used to sing to you in the back of some shitty truck parked by traintracks. The same voice that’d whisper in your ear, I love you.

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do it.

Taehyung’s eyes had been racing over all the faces in the poorly lit club. He was going to find you, no matter what.

The music began, he could hear Hoseok behind him counting down to start but he was frozen in place. He was going to find you. You weren’t in the front, or the right, or the left. He could barely see the back but he knew you had to be here. He just needed to see how you were doing. And like a miracle happened, one of the set lights ran through the crowd, that’s how he saw you and you saw him. Your eyes met for the briefest of moments before you were moving. No, leaving.

“I’ll be back,” he couldn’t stop himself from getting off the stage. Ignoring his manager and bandmate’s he was leaving, going after you. He tossed the mic to Jungkook and as if his band mate understood he was taking over. Sungha reached for Taehyung as he made it backstage but he moved again. He was going after you so he had to hurry.

Shit, he saw you. God was this so fucking weird. What if he thought you were stalking him. What if he thought you were bitter or not over him? You apologized to your friends telling them you just needed a breather. You walked to the back down the long hall where the bathrooms would be. You didn’t know that it connected to backstage until he was intercepting you. The light above you flickering, too dark in the tiny hallway.

Neither of you said anything, all you could both do was take in the other person’s features. He looked differently, obviously older than the last time you saw him when he was 24. His face was more structured, sharper and masculine. His eyes were still hooded over, lazy almost unamused but you knew that wasn’t the case.

“Y/n,” it came out just above a whisper. He looked over you. Your hair was different, your face a little more soft. Your glossy lips slightly parted, your dress fitting your curves perfectly. Still so damn beautiful.

You took a step closer, you had to. You hadn’t seen him in two years. It’s crazy how affected he made you. He looked great. When you took a step forward he did too until you were standing directly in front of each other. He wasn’t thinking when he did it, just took you in his arms, pressing you against him enjoying the feel of your arms wrapping around him. He took a deep breath of your hair, same lavender scent. He wanted you closer, no, needed you closer.

“Taehyung, Tae—hey,” you cupped his face in your hands forcing a friendly smile on your face, “You look amazing. You guys are amazing, wow.”

“Then why are you trying to run away? I’m sorry, I just had to see if it’s you.” Taehyung shook his head, “I know you don’t want to see me but I just needed to see how you were doing. I’m sorry, I’m sorry for—“

“Taehyungie! There you are!” Sungha came over quickly, arm slinging around him as she smiled widely, “I was wondering what happened.” She looked over to you; eyeing you up and down with distaste. Another groupie, she assumed. You looked down at the way she clung to him, the same girl in the pictures. Right, of course he’d moved on. Silly enough to think he wasn’t over you yet, but you could say now that you still missed him. He still mattered to you, you couldn’t escape him. The band plastered on billboards, bus stops, commercials.

You took a step back and immediately Taehyung grew anxious. No, you weren’t done yet. He pushed Sungha’s hand off, “Wait, do you still have the same number?”

You looked up at him as did his manager. Shaking your head no he sighed, “Y/n… please.”

“Tae everyone’s waiting for you,” Sungha caught in. Look, she didn’t care who you were. Taehyung had a show to do and she wasn’t going to let some groupie ruin their image. “I’ll call you,” you told him looking down at the floor.

“Here’s my new number,” he took your phone as you handed it to him. He put his number in and called himself. He wasn’t going to risk giving you his number only for you to never call him. He needed to be able to reach you two. You said a single goodbye and turned away.

He stood still, staring after you as you walked down the dim hallway. No, he couldn’t let you go yet. Not yet. He let himself slip away from Sungha again as he followed after you, “Y/n wait.”

You stopped, your hands were shaking a little so you hid them behind your back as you turned to him again. He stood in front of you, “Come backstage, please?”

“I can’t,” you answered quickly, “I’m here with some friends and we’re celebrating a birthday. He’d kill me if I ditched on him.”

“They can come too,” Taehyung pointed out, “Sungha, make sure security lets them through, how many?”

You looked to him feeling somewhat uncomfortable. You probably shouldn’t. Not because you didn’t feel anything for the guy, it’s because you still felt everything for him. Even after two years of being broken up you still care about him so much. You should tell him it’s alright, that you have his number now so you can catch up another time but the hopeful look in his eyes made you pause. You missed him. A lot.

“There’s six of us,” you tell him as you began taking a couple steps back, “We’re kind of a lot.”

He smiled shaking his head, “That’s okay.”

When you left Taehyung had gone back to the band. During a short break he was able to switch places with Jungkook again and sing up front. A smile stretched across his face because you were here right now. You didn’t hate him either, which is what he always thought. You embraced him like he’d done you and for a split second he could act like nothing ever fell out between you two. He ignored Sungha’s questions and concerns because they didn’t matter. She was his manager and you were his ex girlfriend, who do you think he’d be more willing to hear from?

After the show ended Jimin was so hyped up. He was shaking you by the shoulders beaching out more lyrics even as the DJ took over and you couldn’t hold in your laughter, “Well do you want to meet them birthday boy? They’ve invited us backstage.”

“Shut the fuck up!” He squeezed you again, “I could kiss you right now. What are we still doing here?”

And you let your friends excitement mask the slight tinge of anxiety you felt. Taehyung looked happy to see you and it made you feel awful. Awful for not answering his calls, awful for not congratulating him on his accomplishments, awful for how things were left. You don’t think you could ever forget the look on his face when your father cornered him.

‘Listen kid, I know guys like you,’ your father had said, ‘And I know that you are nothing but trouble filling my daughter’s head with these crazy idea of yours. If you want to throw your life away because you think you can make a name for yourself I don’t care. But you’re not letting her go down with you. She’s got a bright future ahead of her and being with you will only ruin her.’

‘Sir, I would never let Y/n down, please—‘ ‘You stay away from her, okay? If I see you anywhere near her again I swear to God it will be the last time anyone sees you again.’

Of course Taehyung hadn’t listened then. How could he when someone was trying to take the love of his life away? He knew your family was controlling, and intimidating, but he didn’t care. You were all he had, he’d never leave you willingly, right?

‘Y/n, please don’t do this. I’m not scared, I don’t care about what he says to me. I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me too,’ he’d snuck into your bedroom later that night. Your parents had gone out for dinner and a movie. He tried and tried to get you to see reason, ‘I know you’re worried, but I’m not. As long as you love me I don’t care what anyone else says.’

‘Tae it’s not that easy, you don’t know him. You don’t know what he’ll do to you. I’m just asking for some space until I move in to the dorm—‘ ‘You want to hide our relationship?’ Taehyung asked taking a step back, ‘Is that what you really want?’

‘Run away with me,’ he’d begged, hands reaching for yours as he tried pulling you into him, ‘I can get us both tickets to wherever you want to go. Once the band and I start getting some gigs I will be able to pay for your tuition so your parents won’t have to. We’ll find somewhere cheap to live in the mea—‘

‘Taehyung! Listen to yourself please,’ you took a deep breath, ‘I—I can’t. Why can’t you just give me a couple months to let things settle? I love you but I need some space, just until I can move out and then we can be together again without having to sneak around.’

‘A couple months?’ He scoffed, ‘Y/n, baby, please listen to yourself. What happened to not caring about what your parent’s had to say? We’re supposed to be a team, support each other but it’s like you’re giving up on me.’

“Hey, are you okay?” A hand came down to your lower back. Snapping out of your thoughts you looked up to Namjoon, he had a concerned expression as the two of you caught up to where the others were headed backstage. You’d been thinking about Taehyung, about one of your fights. You tried to smile back, hand on his back reassuring him that you were okay as well as leading him on with the others, “Of course, just a little tired.”

“These are the friends?” A voice spoke from behind you. Turning quickly you stared at Taehyung who’d snuck around the stage to search for you. His eyes traveled down to the hand on your lower back and the man on your arm. Without thinking you pulled away, as if you being with Namjoon would give Taehyung the wrong idea. Which idea exactly? You forced a smile onto your face, “Yeah, er, like I said we’re a lo—“

“Holy fucking moly you’re Kim Taehyung!” Jimin quite literally barreled past you, stumbling in his step, “I’m a fan. A big fan. Such a huge fan, wow you guys are grea—hey! It’s my birthday!”

Taehyung glared down at Jimin as you reached out to hold him back. Jimin just threw his arm around you, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your cheek that reeked of alcohol, “H-how do you know him? Have you been holding out on me Y/n?”

“We used to date,” Taehyung was so forward about it as he pushed through your friends to get to the front. He led you all inside while you tried to ignore everyone’s betraying eyes. Jimin, drunk as he was, didn’t care to hide his questions, “What? You mean to tell me, you, my oh so loving best friend has dated a rockstar! And didn’t even bother telling me when it’s my birthday!?”

“Well, technically it’s not your birthday anymore,” Yuna pointed out staring at the clock that read 12:04am. Jimin glared at her as you all followed Taehyung, Namjoon close behind you.

Taehyung did the introductions for you, introduced all of the band to you and your friends even though you’ve already met Yoongi and Hoseok before. They gave you shy smiles, remembering the times you watched them practice. When he was sure they were all busy talking amongst themselves he went back to you. You’d been standing back just watching it all unfold staring at the same tatted man from earlier with the piercings. He came to your side, “Can we talk?”

“How’d you know I was here?” You asked him going back to him. Your voice was just barely above a whisper so he leaned in to listen, or so he says that’s the reason. You two were far off from the rest of the group and he gripped the metal railing for the staircase behind him, “Jungkook told me.”

Your brows furrowed. That must’ve been the other guy.

And as if on cue the guy had come up, smile on his face, “You see, I knew I knew you from somewhere!”

“From where?” You asked him. You stalked Taehyung’s socials even if you didn’t follow each other and he didn’t have any old posts with you at all. You turned to Jungkook and he just smiled, “You’re in his wallet. I always wondered if that was his gi—“

He gagged, Yoongi’s arm locked around his neck as he pulled him back, struggling to do so, “You always talk so damn much.” He glanced back to you, “It’s nice to see you again Y/n. You’re not a kid no more.”

You first met Yoongi when you were 18. He was one of Taehyung’s older friends who knew how to play every instrument and produce any sound possible. He was always quiet and to himself, but he enjoyed having you at their practices. Gave them an audience. He also remembered how broken Taehyung had been when you two broke up. He just didn’t know Taehyung carried a picture of you in his wallet. He wanted to say that you and Taehyung should be together but he’s no so sure. Taehyung had been completely destroyed when you left, or well when he left. He didn’t want him to go through that again.

You looked to Taehyung who only glared after Jungkook as the younger was dragged away, “A picture?”

He reached into his back pocket taking his wallet out. He pulled out two punch cards where a picture laid between them. You stared down at it, heart squeezing for a second. He kept this? He printed it and kept it in his wallet? For two years? “Tannie,” you mumbled smiling a little as you looked at baby Yeontan. The picture was from a time you spent the night over at his place, you cuddled his dog and the running joke had always been that you were his momma. You looked up at Taehyung, he was already staring.

“I missed you.”

You ended up leaving with Namjoon and Jieun by the end of the night. Their manager had gotten fed with you, you’re sure of it, and had already tried to get everyone to leave. Taehyung didn’t want to go yet, asking you to come back to him but you didn’t. He asked you to call him then when you got home but you hadn’t done that either. You needed a minute to think.

He tried calling you the next couple of days but you didn’t respond. You just needed a day or two. He didn’t understand.

You thought he hated you. His music hasn’t been all that loving. He had reason to hate you too, the way you left him at the last second, when your father got home to see you getting in a car with him.

‘Dad! I’m sorry, okay?’ You’d shouted after him as he stormed off to Taehyung. He pushed him, shoving him to the ground and standing over him. You pulled and pulled on his arm but he gripped Taehyung by his shirt, ‘You don’t listen, do you? What part of stay away from my daughter do you not understand?’

‘Dad! I’m an adult, I can make my o—‘ ‘Shut up and get inside!’ He looked down to Taehyung, ‘Get out of here.’

‘Y/n,’ Taehyung had called out to you, lip busted as he reached out for you but your dad just dragged you away. With a cry you shook your head, ‘Just go, please.’

You remembered it so clearly. The pain in his voice as he called after you. Your texts telling him how sorry you were. His begging, telling you it’s okay. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay that you couldn’t be together. He knew it wasn’t. He knew he couldn’t put up with this any longer so when you told him it’s best to break up he agreed even if he didn’t want to. He’d prayed you’d rethink it and ask him to come back to you but you never did. So he left.

taehyung: if you never wanna hear from again just tell me

you: I just needed some time

you: I’m sorry

taehyung: it’s not your fault

taehyung: nothing has ever been

you: you got hurt bc of me

you: you should hate me

taehyung: I could never

taehyung: believe me I tried

taehyung: when can I see you again?

You ended up meeting up with him a couple days later. You invited him over to Heein’s place when it was just gonna be a few friends. He arrived a little later than others so you went down to fetch him. “Are you sure this is okay?” You had asked him once again as he followed you up the flights of stairs, “I don’t want to get you in trouble for going out.”

“It’s fine,” his smile was warm as he cautiously brought his hand up to your lower back letting your lead him into an apartment filled with chaos. Yuna and Jimin were wrestling over the Bluetooth speaker, Jieun was wiping up some spilled drink, Namjoon was covering his ears to avoid Heein’s unnecessary screaming when her favorite KPOP group appeared on tv.

“Act normal! Act normal!” Jimin shoved Yuna off as he took a seat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other taking a deep breath as he looked at Taehyung, “Why hello again Mr. Rockstar? Funny seeing you here, don’t mind the mess.”

“Stop talking like you live here,” Heein told him as she looked over to Taehyung, “Come, come. There’s drinks in the kitchen, we are about to play some card games.”

Taehyung looked over to you nervously but you just winked. He smiled now following your lead inside, you offered him a drink which he gladly took and joined you on the couch. The guy he’d seen you close to, Namjoon, kept glaring over at him but he didn’t care. He didn’t care who that guy was or what he had to do with you. He was just happy enough to possibly have you back in his life, it meant you still cared about him too.

Jimin led the card games anything that could get everyone drinking more or talking more. When it turned into a question game they seemed to all be directed at Taehyung. Taehyung who let his leg brush against yours any chance he had just to feel closer to you. It almost felt like the old days, when you’d be surrounded by friends laughing along with Taehyung, being made fun of for being so in love. He’d bring you closer to him, give you a kiss and smile against you because he really did love you. If only he could do that now, but not talking to each other for two years definitely put a strain on what you used to be to each other.

“So, how does it all work? Going on tour and stuff?” Namjoon had asked him shuffling a deck of cards, “Do you get breaks?”

“Yes, we are on a break now for a couple weeks then it’s off to Europe,” Taehyung told him honestly, but he really wished not to say anything at all. He didn’t want it to ruin his chances at reconciliation with you. He’d stay here forever if you asked him to. He looked to you waiting for a reaction but you just took a drink from your cup.

You looked up at him, lip pulled between your teeth nervously. He wanted to pull it out, tell you not to bite your lip because he loved it so much. You should know this. “So where are you staying? Do you have a place? Do you stay at hotels?” Heein asked him.

“I have my own place.”

“Okay, since nobody else will ask, I’ll ask,” Jimin took a deep breath as he looked between you two, “So what’s the story here? I gotta say I’m pretty upset my best friend kept this a secret from me. That she not only knew, but dated, a member of my favorite band.”

Taehyung looked to you again, what was the story you wanted to tell? You didn’t say anything for a moment, “We met a few years ago, when I had just finished high school. He worked at this record store my friends and I used to like going to. One thing led to another, we went on a few dates and then we got together.”

Yuna was the next to speak, “So wait, then why’d you guys break up? It couldn’t be that bad if you’re still hanging ou-ow!” Jimin poked her to shut up. You looked at Taehyung.

“We just wanted different things at the time,” he cleared his throat looking around, “Where’s the bathroom?” Jimin pointed down the hall and he excused himself.

His reflection stared back at him, taunting him almost. Asking him what the fuck was he doing. Why was he here right now? What did he really want to gain from all this? Was he looking to at least be friends again? Would he even be satisfied with that knowing the way your lips felt against his? Or how much he missed having someone to hold late at night. He wasn’t celibate or anything, but he never found the comfort in other people’s arms like in yours. Would he ever be satisfied with anything less than your love for him?

He turned the faucet on, cupping his hands under the warm water before splashing it on his face. Was he too stuck in the past? He dried his face off combing his fingers through his hair as he left the bathroom.

“Are we still getting brunch with your dad tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll ask him.”

Taehyung froze, hidden away in the shadows of the hall he stopped. That was Namjoon’s voice and yours too. That meant Namjoon knew your dad, talked to him, hung out with him. And it meant your dad liked him. Why else would he be invited out? Taehyung would’ve been lucky to even get a hello every time he’d go over. It was always mean looks and glares, the occasional threat or degradation. Sometimes his ass laid out on the pavement if your dad was feeling extra bold and drunk.

What did that mean? Namjoon, was he into you?

He went on, walking back to where he’d once been sitting and waiting quietly for whatever else was to come. He looked over at Namjoon who just smiled, knowing almost. Knowing that he’d soon be replacing Taehyung’s door in your heart and pretty fucking happy about it. You reached for his hand on instinct, “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Good,” he lied looking up to you, “Tired but good.”

“So Taehyung, I’ve been wanting to ask,” Namjoon spoke up, “Is, or has, Y/n ever been one of your song inspirations? You write a good amount of the music, right? Or was your relationship not too important?”

Taehyung glared down at him, a light scoff leaving his lips, “Well, she’s the inspiration for all my music, now too.”

“Fuck you that is so romantic,” Jieun pretended to cry against Jimin who just pushed her off his shoulder teasingly, “I want a guy to write songs about me.”

You didn’t say anything. Was that really true? The songs of his that you’d heard, had they really been about you?

“Every single one of them,” Taehyung spoke as he looked at you directly as if reading your thoughts. He’d always do that. You looked back to him, “Are you tired of their interrogation?”

“A little.” At least he was honest. Mostly he just wanted to get out of her and talk to you alone. Maybe you’d be able to really discuss what happened and where you are now. That’s what he really wanted.

He’d asked you over to his apartment later on. You both got in his car and he drove off. He walked ahead of you, picking up clothes and shoes off the floor covering his face in embarrassment, “Sorry, we just got back and I haven’t had time to unpack. Here, er, take a seat I’ll get you a drink.”

You nodded heading to the living room but you didn’t sit. You looked around, eyes skimming over the artwork. The framed albums and guitars, the random abstract paintings and photographs. The apartment was big, new and definitely expensive. You were so proud of him. Compared to that rundown studio he used to take you to this was an upgrade.

“You cold?” He asked coming over and setting a tray with glasses and a wine bottle on the coffee table. He went to the fireplace and began to turn it on. You looked down at the fluffy black rug under your feet and wiggled your toes in it. When he was done he let himself drop to the run sitting on the floor and pouring glasses. He looked up to you nervously, “You’re not gonna sit? Sorry, it’s warmer down here by the fireplace.”

You just smiled and sat down next to him. He looked over to you again, shy smile on his face as he handed you a glass and you thanked him. Shyly, he cleared his throat, “I um, I didn’t get to explain myself the other night, for the picture I mean.”

“It’s just, well, um, it was the day I got Yeontan. He was just a pup and well, I took the picture and I didn’t have that many of him, or you, and I guess I just never took it out,” he breathed out nervously, “It’s weird. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Where is he anyway?” You asked looking around sporting the dog toys but no dog.

“Probably napping in my closet.”

You smiled watching his nervous hand come up to brush a stray hair out of his face, “I was surprised.”

“Yeah.”

“But look at this,” you reached for your cellphone, the dark case popping off with a simple push and inside a paper slipped out. You handed the old slip to him and he looked over it with brows furrowed. It was a sketch. A poorly drawn heart with a smiley face inside, a few flowers around it and faded handwriting that read, ‘-Taehyung’ on it. He flipped it over, the back had more but this time it was your name doodled everywhere with his.

He smiled, heart feeling light as he thought back to that day.

‘How much longer?’ He’d asked you doodling on a random sticky note. You were currently studying for some summer course, he was hanging out with you. You sat under a tree letting the shade block the harsh sun and he’d taken one of your textbooks to use as a clipboard while he doodled. When you didn’t give him an answer he reached into your pencil pouch and pulled out a sharpie. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he grabbed one of your legs that had been on his lap and took hold of your converse. Quickly he drew a messy heart with your initials and his on it.

‘Hey!’ You yanked your foot back just as he’d finished the date and looked down at your foot. Cute. He flashed you a smile and held up the sticky note, placing it on your forehead. You huffed taking it off and looking it over, “Cute, give me five and then I’m done. And no more writing on my shoes.’

‘Give me a kiss and I’ll stop.’

He held the sticky note now feeling a sense of relief. Good. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t fully let the other go. It gave him hope, almost. He licked his dry lips, “Listen, I just, I think I should be honest with you.”

Uh oh.

“I was mad with how we left things,” he confessed, “I felt like we couldn’t get on the same page and like nothing was working out for us. And I just thought that it was because you weren’t trying hard enough. Like I wasn’t worth a fight with your parents and that was unfair or me. I blamed you when it wasn’t your fault and I regret it so fucking much. I tried calling and texting you to see if we could ever be anything again even if it was just friends but you never answered.”

You took a deep breath sliding your legs under you, “I’m sorry. It wasn’t right for me to ignore you but it was my fault. If I only just… if I just stuck up for us and told him nothing bad would have happened to you. I regret never speaking up for you—“

“He’s your dad,” Taehyung sighed, “I was expecting you to go against him, that wasn’t right of me.”

“Everything he said or did to you wasn’t right.”

He reached a hand out to you, pushing your hair out of your face, “I would’ve put up with so much more if it meant we could be together. It killed me being away from you. It still does.”

“I thought you were happy,” you were being honest with him now, “I thought that if I tried talking to you it’d be like opening old wounds. Or that you’d hate me or like I wasn’t letting you move on. I mean look at you, look at what you’ve become. Your dreams came true and I couldn’t bring up the past.”

He shook his head scooting closer to you, “You’ve always been my dream too, don’t forget that.”

You shook your head ready to protest but he continued, “You’re really the reason why I continued music. You’re the one who always pushed me to try my best and I guess hearing your dad say I’d never be good enough for you made me want to prove him wrong. I wanted to give you a life that you couldn’t even imagine. That’s why I kept going until I forgot why I was doing all of this.”

It was quiet. Neither of you knew what else to say or where to go from here. All you knew was that you liked the way his fingers ran over your ankle lightly brushing against your skin. Caressing you like he used to as he dipped a finger along the rim of his glass, “So, uh, Namjoon. Y-ou… that’s the kind of guy your dad wants for you? I overheard earlier, brunch tomorrow.”

You sighed, hand reaching out to hold his, “I don’t care what he wants for me anymore. I learned from my mistakes.”

“Yes but, are you seeing each other?” He bit into his bottom lip. It’s fine. Like ripping a bandaid. Just tell him the truth. Tell him if he has a change again or not. You held his hand tighter, “What are we? What do you want us to be?”

“Friends?” More, he thought. He needed to be cautious, try and ease into your life again. You looked into his eyes, “That’s it?”

“No.”

His eyes searched yours for a hint at what you wanted him to say. What truth you wanted him to tell, and with a deep breath he told his own, “I want to be with you, I never want to be away from you again if we don’t even get to talk. I know we haven’t spoken in so long but I’ve missed you every day and have just been trying to forget. I don’t want to forget us Y/n. I told you then, and I’m telling you now. I am so fucking in love with you, and I have always been. I want to say that we can try and be friends but it’s not enough, it will never be enough for me.”

“Leaving you back last time was the hardest thing I’d ever done. When you told me to leave I was so fucking hurt and mad, I don’t ever want to feel that again,” he kept going, “And I’m scared that just being friends will kill me but I can’t stand the thought of losing you when I just f-found you again.”

A deep breath, eyes closed, “But if you just want to be friends, I’ll do it. Just please don’t go.��

All you did was smile. Your silence was torture. He needed you to just say something. Tell him what you wanted him to do. If you didn’t want him in that way anymore, if you wanted him to get out of your life. If you loved him still. Please, just show him where your head’s at. You leaned forward, he watched closely as you approached him. His heart raced, eyes wandering down to your parted lips. And with a sigh he let his lips meet yours.

You both melted into the kiss, crumbling down onto each other. His hands were quick to reach out for you going to your waist. He was on his knees leaning into you for better access, the kiss was electrifying. The tingly feeling he’d missed returning to him just being here with you right now. He could stay with his mouth on yours for forever.

Moving your hand from his shoulder, you cupped the back of his neck and pulled him deeper into your mouth. Taehyung let out a desperate sounding noise and it sparked something hot inside of you, pushing him back so you could climb onto his lap. You whimpered when his fingers dug into the softness of your waist and he used that moment to dip his tongue into your mouth. Quickly you were dipping your head down and running your own tongue along his, drunk on the heat and taste of him. You missed this. His movements were swift, expert to the feel of your body, his hand running up into your hair and the other sliding down to your bottom while your legs wrapped around his waist. He held you up even if he was struggling not to fall back onto the floor. When he squeezed you there, bringing your body to press fully against his, you moaned. You pulled back to catch your breath. Looking back at him, you smiled at just how swollen his lips were and how messy you’d made his hair. You let yourself kiss the corner of his open mouth hearing him gasp as you trailed your affections elsewhere.

Heaven. You were, this whole thing was just heaven on Earth. Your lips on him again, kissing down that little spot under his jaw that you knew drove him insane. Making his eyes rolls back when your hips ground down against him a little. His hands where they should be, planted on your hips, keeping you in place. Your hand in his hair yanking his head back so your lips could crash onto his.

“Ngh,” with furrowed brows he deepened the kiss, never having enough of you. He felt hot against you, breathing roughly through his nose just so he wouldn’t have to pull away. Your other hand was under his chin, holding him close to you as if he’d slip away. His neck stretched up chasing after your lips.

“I don’t think I can live without you again,” you confessed shyly, gasping when his mouth left wet, hungry kisses along the expanse of your neck. His hands were groping at your clothes trying to bring you even closer, your chest against his with your legs straddling his lap.

“You won’t have to,” he sighed out trailing his hand up and down your back, “I don’t want you to.”

You wanted to be closer to him. Show him how much you missed him too, let him know that you couldn’t just be friends either. It’s not like you’d be the first person in the world to go back to your ex. You wanted to grind your bodies together until you remembered what it was like to be one.

You reached down between them, fingers skidding over his shirt, pushing him back until he got the hint to lie down. Taehyung sucked in a breath, tensed his stomach in anticipation, remembering the way your hands on him felt. With a smile, you let your fingers dance along the fabric as you hovered over him. The sight below you just beautiful. This man. This wonderful man who was willing to wait and forget whatever happened between you two just to be together again. How could you ever forget about him? Move on from him?

“Is this okay?” You asked, scared that maybe you’d gone too far by kissing him first. His eyes were half shut but he was nodding his head eagerly, in bliss from just making out with you. He usually took the lead between you two but having you on top of him was making his mind wander off to what had changed in this department for you. You lifted his t-shirt, kissing along his rib cage while your hand caressed over his stomach and sides, “What about this?”

“Fuck Y/n, yes. Yes. Yes. It’s perfect,” he sighed out letting his head fall back, “Just keep touching me. It’s been so long.”

His breath hitched, stomach tensing once more when your hand slipped down the hem of his clothing, trailing along his pelvis and thigh. Then trailed back up to the dip of his navel, just above the wet tip of Taehyung’s fast growing erection. You still had such an effect of him.

Your lips met his again, a hand coming up to your face and pulling you closer. You took the opportunity to go on, hand curled over the

hard length carefully. Taehyung released a gust of breath and tilted his head up for another kiss.

It was sloppy, eager tongues and pliant lips and gently scraping teeth. It was moans passed back and forth with increasing urgency. It was too good to stop. You broke away, smearing your lips across his jaw and groaning into his neck. “God, you’re so hard,” you murmured into warm skin. “I could worship you.”

It wasn’t far off from the truth. He was harder, thicker, than you could remember and he was here with you again. You let your fingers tap against the wet slick leaking from his slit and massaged it over his tip and as much of his length as you could. Your hand stretched wide around his member as you gave it a single, careful stroke that left Taehyung wanting more.

You wanted more, wanted to feel the heavy weight of it on your tongue. Have him wriggling on this rug by the fireplace for more, more, more. You pushed off, tugging on his shirt and pants for it to come off all while taking your own clothes off. Taehyung moved quickly to rid himself of clothing. Instead of taking over, he just fell back into the plush rug, vibrating with excitement for more. He missed you so damn much he’d take anything you gave him right now.

With your hand, you traced down his hard chest, tweaked playfully at a nipple, then slid your fingers over the soft muscle. You scooted back and Taehyung lifted his head, eyes bright with hope. You pulled against the hem of his briefs, which he’d oh so excitedly left on just thinking about you ripping them off him, and let your finger graze against his hardened cock until in pointed lewdly at the ceiling. You leaned down, eyes locked onto Taehyung’s—a steady gaze that said ’watch me worship your cock’.

Your tongue slipped out flat, and Taehyung attempted to bite back a whispered—whimpered—"Y/n…“

You pressed against his tip, slipped your tongue over the weeping slit, and rolled it around the reddened head, once, twice. You sank your mouth down, letting Taehyung’s girth part your lips until they hugged around his member. You couldn’t hit it in and moaned—hungry for more— you reached between his legs and palmed underneath where his balls were. They were always flushed against his member, close to releasing all the tension.

Slowly, you pulled away. You brought your hand to rest on his thigh, soothing him and let his cock slip from your mouth while your head fell against his thigh.

“Are you sure you want this again?” You asked nervously, ghosting your fingers along the prominent veins of his shaft.

Taehyung arched up, a moan slipping past his lips. “More than anything else in the world I want you.”

And that’s what had you back on his cock, mouth sucking him, wrapping your hand around the girth and stroked once from thick base to leaking tip letting him slip out of your mouth before pummeling back onto him. Taehyung shuddered, a single curse falling from his lips with a gracious rumble—fffuuuuuuck.

Whatever didn’t fit was stroked again—one slow pass over the length of him. Then again. With the tip just barely in your mouth, you began to suck, as if to milk him, lips squeezed around him. Slowly, as if unsure, Taehyung rolled his hips into you. When you offered no resistance, he did it again—thrusting into your mouth a little more, hissing at the glide of your hand at his base.

“Fuck, s-such a good girl,” he whined, moans rumbled through him, growing louder, higher. He was now fucking into your mouth in quick jabs, chasing his climax. You could feel the twitching pulse of his cock.

“Come, baby,” Your voice was soft, like a melody, “You deserve it.” You let your free hand go down again, squeezing lightly against his balls.

Taehyung cried out, hips up pushing you flush against his pubic bone. He came hot and hard in your mouth, pulsing out thick ribbons until he shuddered with over sensitivity. His own hands running along his bare torso as if it’d calm his racing heart. And when you pulled off his length, swallowing hard his cum he stared at the mess drooling out from the corners of your mouth and all he could think about is how he wanted to do the same to you. So he reached for you, not caring about the cum hanging off your lips, and smashed his lips against yours.

“Want you to sit on my face,” he moaned tasting himself on your tongue, “Please, fuck, just fuck my face.”

Just the idea of it makes you moan. You nod your head, as his hands find your hips guiding you up his body. He pulled at your underwear, ordering you to remove your bra too as he moved you where he wanted you. It started off slow, licks down the crease of your thigh, so close and so far away from where you need him. He scrapes his teeth down the sensitive thin skin, sucks a mark on your inner thigh. He’s humming at the feel, your soft thighs providing warmth to his ears like it’s cold outside—well it is.

“You’re so wet,” he let some of the slick drop onto his face only making this more lewd. How could you not be after having him in your mouth?

You could never forget how much you love the way he touches you, reverently at first. And later demanding and hungry, the gentleness gone as he takes you apart expertly. You will never get enough of the greedy way he takes everything you give him.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by the feel of his tongue finally sliding over your clit. You cry out, clutching at his head, you’d palms skid over his hair by accident and tug as you shiver.

He licks over you quickly, vibrating your clit before working his way down, his tongue siding inside you, fucking in and out slowly guiding your hips to ride his face. You push back against him as pleasure courses through you. Your whole body is lit up. You start to shake, the gentle stroke of his tongue right down the middle of you feeling wonderful. “Oh.” Your head falls back with a moan. You shiver as he does it again and again. One long swipe after another along the open center of your cunt. Your hips start to rock, your knees slipping until you’re pressed firmly against him. You feel him moan against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat right through you. He was enjoying this. You tasted so damn sweet.

His hands slide over your thighs, his fingers rubbing and pressing at the muscles before moving up over your stomach to cup your exposed breasts. There’s a reason he wanted your bra off and on the floor. His thumbs brush back and forth over your nipples, until suddenly he pinches them hard.

“Fuck!” You grits out just as his tongue pushes into you. You grind against him, your body wracked with one hard shudder after another. His tongue is fucking up into you, lapping at your pussy like a starved man, his finger pinching and pulling at your nipples and you’re so fucking close already, rubbing at you from every angle and you feel every single flick of it. He keeps it curled in, as he begins to fuck you with it. You’re struggling to balance yourself as you ride his tongue, his nose hitting your clit every now and then. You hear a low rumble from him and it vibrates his tongue. You nearly scream as another shudder works it way through you.

You feel it coming like a tidal wave. Your whole body goes tight, shaking uncontrollably, your breath stuttering out and then you lock down on him, one hard convulsion after another as you wail his name. He keeps you in place, arms thrown around your thighs watching you fall apart above him hearing the chant of his name slip from your pretty lips. He laps at your release, wanting more, more, more.

It took you both a moment to bounce back from that, but with Taehyung’s cock hard again from having you squirm on him was making it difficult for him to be patient. When you got off of him he made sure to kiss your shoulder lovingly while you fell down next to him. Tender and soft, “Do you want to stop?”

He hoped not.

You shook your head, smiling so lovingly at him as you brushed some sweaty locks off his forehead. The rug underneath you felt so hot you had no idea how Taehyung has been fine just lying there. You kissed him gently, “Condom?”

“Shit,” he muttered as he moved you off lightly. He was on his feet, naked and running toward his bedroom—where you should be having sex right now instead of the floor but who cares. He rummaged through his things searching for one and after a couple minutes he returned. You looked down at his naked body, laughing a little when you caught sight of his hard dick, “Couldn’t wait?”

He shook his head sending you a cheeky smile as he rolled the condom on himself before even getting back onto the rug. He leaned over you, your arms flying around his neck as he met your lips with his, groaning a little at how needy it was. He couldn’t believe he had you again, right now in this moment. It made it feel like the last two years without you never happened and you were always together. His arm snuck underneath your arched back and pulled you flush against him. With one swift movement, he had you up flipping you over so you were on top sitting over his hard cock.

You whined a little at the sudden pressure against your sensitive pussy, unwrapping your arms from around his neck to push up against his chest.

He kissed along your arms as you unraveled yourself with him sitting up straight. He smiled, “You are so beautiful.”

“Mhm,” you giggled letting your hair fall over one shoulder. Biting onto your bottom lip Taehyung felt his cock twitched a little, hands on your thighs waiting for you to move. You pressed down, “What do you want? Hm?”

“Ride me,” he sighed out eyes locked on the way your cunt just barely hovered over his erect member, barely grazing over it, “Like you did with my face pretty girl.”

Barely within seconds your hand was slipping down to your core where his member was, you lifted up using your knees for support until you could line him up with your entrance. Taehyung tried being patient, letting you go ahead and take the lead but when your cunt pressed against his tip, slowly taking him in, he couldn’t take it. You gasped suddenly, nails digging into his chest glaring down at him. He had pushed himself all the way inside of you.

"God- fuck-!"

You hissed, resting your hands down on his shoulders before sinking your nails down into his skin.

"Shh, it's alright. Just breathe, okay? Breathe,” he groaned, taking a second himself to get used to your tightness. How do you still feel so goddamn right? “I’m sorry baby, it’s been forever.”

Taehyung sighed, rubbing your waist to soothe the pain down a bit. After about a couple minutes of just waiting there, taking in the size of his cock letting him stretch you all over again. How did you used to take this every day before? You decided to give a little test move, pleasure coursing through your body.

"Oh- god..!" You gasped, not noticing how your body started moving on its own. The feeling of Taehyung’s hips grinding against yours only piled on more feeling to the already intimate feeling. His lip was pulled between his teeth, brows furrowed in concentration letting his hips buck up into yours. Your nails in his skin only working to push him further. He wouldn’t last.

Rocking your hips more, he hissed, Taehyung was practically dying to go rough on you. The strong hands that were once around your waist are now around your hips — a tight grip on them as you felt yourself slowly sliding off to where his tip was still inside you. The sudden feeling of his member slamming back inside sent you on an emotional roller coaster.

He smiled, calming down enough to only be going slow but rough on you. He wanted you to feel all of him, every last inch to remind you what it was like for him to fuck you. Treat you like the good girl you are.

"P-Please-,” you whined out, letting your knees and his hands do more of the work to lift you off his cock, “faster. Fuck, you feel so good."

You gasped out through moans, placing your hands on his chest for support.

"You feel so tight,” he spoke through gritted teeth, feeling yourself getting lifted up and slammed back down- hard too, “I guess I gotta get you used to me again.”

He bent his legs so that his knees were up and his feet were flat on the floor dropping you forward. Your hands slipped off his chest and you came down, hugging him now.

Your hair fell all around him as he thrusted up into you. His free hand came around to the back of your head locking you in place keeping you from moving. “Cum for me, I wanna feel you get even tighter,” he muttered out lips brushing against yours before you bent lower to kiss him. He was practically bouncing you in his hold and with his grip tight behind your neck all you do was wiggle your hips.

“I’m never letting you go, not again,” he growled flipping you over so that he was on top. His pace was brutal, quick sharp thrusts into your heat bringing you on the brink of release, “God, you feel so fucking good. All for me, right?”

“Yes, yes, fuck Tae I’m—I’m—“ he pushed into your cunt to the hilt, keeping you in place and with one final grunt he was letting go, you followed suit, trembling, legs tightening around his waist and he breathed into your neck, teeth scraping against flesh.

It took a minute or two for you both come down, he carefully rolled off of you and yanked the condom off. You looked at it watching the thick glob of cum dribble out. Without saying anything he yanked a throw blanket off the nearest couch and laid it over you. The cold from winter air already taking over once the heat of your bodies dissipated.

He leaned in peppering your skin with kisses making you smile when his hands trailed up your arms. You turned on your side, the night had been long and your body was already feeling sore. He wrapped an around you pulling you against him snuggling close as he whispered by your ear, “I’m gonna write a song about how good your pussy is.”

By morning you both were rudely awoken. Sleeping on the floor after some fucking was not as fun as you thought it’d be. You searched around for your cellphone fighting off Taehyung’s tight grip and pushing your bed head out of your face. He grumbled in his sleep turning away from you as he struggled to wake up. Eyes half closed you answered your ringing phone finally shutting off the god awful sound, “Hello?”

“You haven’t called me today, and I wanted to see if we were still on for later with Namjoon?” Your father’s voice spoke. Instantly your heart dropped as you checked the time. Good. You still had time. You looked back to Taehyung who was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with tight fists. With a deep sigh you said, “I’m not going.”

“Well a heads up would’ve been nice sweetheart. Please remember that Namjoon will only put up with your attitude for so long,” your father went on. Rolling your eyes at his words you couldn’t help but smile at the same time as Taehyung slipped his arm around your naked waist moving to lay on your thigh, kissing you softly. He looked up at you wanting to hear what you’d say. He had an idea on who might be on the phone.

“Daddy, I’m with Taehyung.” You bit your bottom lip nervously. Taehyung’s heart raced at that, he hid a smile by nibbling against your thigh feeling his heart about to explode.

It was silent, your father’s voice came out low, “What?”

“I’m with Taehyung, and I’m not going to break up with him,” you looked to him for reassurance and he just took your hand kissing your knuckles nodding his head, “And it’s fine if you don’t like it because I’m an adult who is capable of making my own decisions.”

Your father laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re fucking done, don’t come to me crying when you’re done with him.” Click.

Your heart dropped. What? You pulled the phone away, that’s it? A text appeared immediately.

dad | pack your shit and get out of my apartment

dad | you wanna throw your life away for scum like him so be it. but not living off my money that’s for sure

You couldn’t help the tears that began to form in your eyes. Taehyung looked up at you clearly alarmed. “Hey, hey, baby,” he brought you close into a hug, “Hey, it’s okay. Look, I—I go on tour again in about a week. Come with me. You’re on break aren’t you? Maybe you can talk to your professors into letting you do it online? You can pack up your stuff and bring it here. It’ll be our place from now on.”

You shook your head, crying now, “No, I can’t. What if, what if you regret being with me again a-and you realize that I’m not worth all the trouble an—“

He cupped your face, “Baby I would never, please you’re scaring me,” his voice cracked as he grabbed the blanket wrapping it around you, “Let’s get in the shower, relax and then we can talk things over. But I already told you, I’m not leaving you.”

He helped you up, your silence making him feel uneasy, “Did you hear me? I-if you don’t want to lose your dad, that’s fine. We don’t have to—I mean—I know how much he means to you and I would never make you choose. S-so if you want to call him back and tell him you made a mistake I won’t get mad.”

You looked up to him as he struggled to say the words. He didn’t want to let you go but he didn’t want to be reason why you lose everything. He loved you too much to see y—

You hugged him, crying into his chest, “I’m not leaving you either.”

“Oh thank God,” his arms tightened around you, feeling your form against him. Out of the blue you released a giggle through your tears. His brows furrowed, did he forget you’re crazy? Weren’t you just crying? You laughed again as he wiped away tears, “Sorry it’s just, we’re butt ass naked crying.”

He laughed, arm slipping under you and lifting you up bridal style, “Let’s get in the shower, you stink.”

“Hey!”

Shortly after he mumbled, “I’m your daddy now I guess.”

“Shut up.”

::.

ok y’all it’s not the best but it’s not the worst and that’s a win for me. I wanted more rockstar Tae but it was just too much to write and I don’t wanna do a second part

so maybe might do some drabbles. but here’s a moodboard I made while driving.

also if you don’t get the title

basically just saying that even if someone wanted to separate them, they were still gonna come back to each other this time much stronger and in love than before :)

#kpop #kim taehyung #Taehyung smut #bts #bts smut #taehyung au

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rebelliousstories · 1 year

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Hot Cocoa

25 Days of Ficmas

Realationship: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick

Request: No

Warnings: Light Angst, Fluff, Talks about illness, cancer, and death

Word Count: 1,802

Masterlist: Here

Top Gun Masterlist: Here

Summary: Tom just received bad news about his throat. He’s holed himself away in his office, but his wife won’t stand for that behavior.

Sometimes a cough isn’t a cough. Sometimes it’s just a little tickle in your throat because you didn’t know that you were allergic to pollen until too late. And just sometimes, it was cancerous tumors that made their home on your throat. Then when you get the diagnosis, you sit in the office with your wife, completely dumbfounded and unable to process what this means for your future. You have to figure out a way to tell your kids, co workers, bosses. Your whole life can flip upside down when a cough isn’t a cough.

As the holidays got closer, and the cold air came in, Tom’s cough got worse. The cold air would hit it and send him into a coughing fit. He was worried about this getting worse, and it seemed the universe wanted him to have to try and explain away every cough at work. He was getting tired of constantly having a throat lozenge in his mouth to quell the pain in his throat. And all the tea he drank only lasted a little bit on his throat. It had been a long couple of months since the diagnosis, but it felt like a lifetime. However, the daily medications and special treatments, miraculously, had him cleared up by Christmas that year. They didn’t have to tell his coworkers the truth yet, the kids and bosses were all happy that it had finally gone away. If only it had been for good.

Two years later, it came back. This time worse, instead of just resting in his throat, it started targeting his vocal chords. Daily medications started yet again, the special treatments and even surgery were back on, as much as he hated it. But it would be worth it if it meant he was able to continue life as normal. This time, it was almost a year of that kind of treatment to clear up the illness in his throat. But still it cleared up, and Tom was just glad to be able to speak at Christmas.

He went in for his six month scan for the cancer returning, and was fine. Nothing showed up out of the ordinary. But that next six month scan; it couldn’t have come at worse time. His kids were flying in to see their parents for Christmas when he received the news. This more than likely would not go away easily, and even then, it was a gamble if it would stay away or if he would succumb to the ailment. When he got home that day, Tom went straight past where his wife was greeting him, and into his office. She didn’t push it, opting instead to finish dinner. But when he ignored her call for dinner, then his phone for messages, she knew something was wrong. Tom was never the type of man to start up ignore anyone, let alone his wife.

So, she made his plate, put it on a tray and went to his office. She knocked gently, and received two knocks back. When she got inside, it was a somber scene. Tom sat at his desk, with his hand gently massaging his throat. In front of him were papers that he was studying intensely, but she couldn’t tell what they were. Mrs. Kazansky made her way to the desk where her husband sat, and set the tray down with his dinner. When she turned to leave, she saw the name of the hospital at the top of the papers that were in his grasp. But she didn’t call any attention to them; she simply pressed a kiss to her husband’s head and left the room to call their children down for dinner.

He knew she saw the hospital papers. But he was thankful that she didn’t mention anything about them to him. Not yet. He looked over at the plate of food she had left for him, still steaming. After being married so many years, they still understood each other better than themselves did. And right now, he was more glad than ever for that. The food went down nicely, and provided him some comfort while he tried to wrap his head around the news he was given. Tom heard his family downstairs, laughing and talking as they had done for their entire lives. But he couldn’t join them; he just couldn’t get into the mood. He didn’t know how long he sat there after dinner. Long enough that he heard the conversation dwindle down and his kids ask their mom if they could come say goodnight to him. That brought a smile to his face, and it only widened when his children came to his office. He flipped the papers over as fast as he could so they didn’t have to look at the words scribbled on it, spelling out his fate.

His wife was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t see her with the kids, or even shortly afterwards. Tom watched the clock as he waited to see if his wife was coming. About twenty minutes after his kids bid him goodnight, Tom started to get up to go in search of his wife when the door to his office opened yet again. There she was, with another tray in her hands, but this time it wasn’t food on it; they were mugs. As she got closer he could see the mini marshmallows that were piled high on the mugs, and the cookies next to them.

“You know,” she began as she set the tray down, “the last time you were in here this long without coming to dinner, was when I was pregnant the first time, and you were still flying planes.” She passed a mug to her husband, who accepted, and patted his leg in a silent invitation. She took it, wrapped her arms around Tom, and grabbed her own mug.

“I’m sorry if I worried you, dear. Just… lost in though I guess.” He took a sip from the mug. Hot chocolate. She always made hot chocolate this time of year, only switching it for the occasional tea for a warm, mugged beverage.

“Oh, I’m not worried about you sitting here alone for hours on end. I know you’re still in the house which is good. If you were doing this at the base, that’s when I’d worry. So tell me what’s up, Tom. Something is clearly bothering you.” Her gentle caress on his cheek made him close his eyes briefly, relishing in this moment. The man breathed in deeply, let out a sigh, and leaned forward to flip over the papers on his desk. There was a beat of silence.

“So what’s bothering you, Ice?” She asked once again, looking towards her husband and never towards the papers. He was confused for a few minutes.

“The papers are right there.” He pointed out, but she just smiled sweetly at him.

“I know. But I don’t want to read about it from some impersonal piece of paper. I want to know what’s going on with my husband from my husband.” His wife took another sip from her mug. Tom took a minute to gather his thoughts, trying desperately to put into words what he was feeling.

“It’s back. And they don’t think I’ll get out of this unscathed like the last times.” He paused to cough loudly, while his wife grabbed his mug so he wouldn’t spill it. Tom was finally able to recover from the coughing fit and popped a lozenge into his mouth. The unique taste of the lozenge flooded his tongue and traveled down his throat, soothing it enough that he could continue. However his voice was obviously straining at this point.

“I’m worried what this… will mean for me. I’m scared, honey. This isn’t like last time. It’s so much worse and the only thing we can do is go along with it.” Tom had to pause every few words because of the strain on his voice, but to was worth it to him. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to talk to his wife, so he had to take every opportunity and make them count.

“Tom, you are the strongest man I know. I mean you have to be to put up with Maverick’s crap all these years.” This sent the couple into a chuckle, knowing very well that Tom had the patience of a saint sometimes pulling Maverick out of some pretty sticky situations.

“But listen to me,” her mug was set aside in favor of cradling his face, “Thomas ‘Iceman’ Kazansky. You don’t back down from a challenge. And you certainly don’t give up. We both knew that it could get to this point, we just hoped it wasn’t going to. Yes, the only thing we can do now is go along with whatever the doctors say. But we just need to take this day by day, hour by hour, and even minute by minute. We’ll call and see what our options are, or if you already have an option I’ll support you. That’s what we do in a marriage. I’m always going to be in your corner.” Tears steadily flowed down his cheeks, and he buried his head in her neck. She pressed kiss after kiss into his hair, and caressed his head and shoulders while he worked through all the emotions that filled him. After a few minutes, he pulled away and gazed up at his wife’s face. Gently, Tom pulled her down and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Thank you.” He rasped out, resting his head against hers. She smiled down at him.

“Of course, Tommy.” After a moment, she grabbed their mugs and placed his in his hands. Tom took a sip of his still warm drink gladly.

“This is really good. Have I ever told you about the time that Mav and I were stationed overseas for the holidays one year and he managed to make hot chocolate from stuff he found in the kitchen, just because I was missing yours that time?” He asked, keeping his voice low so it didn’t strain too much. Of course he had told her this story before, but in lieu of the circumstances she shook her head.

“No. What happend?” And that got Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky talking about the one Christmas he wasn’t in the country and Maverick was trying everything he could to cheer him up. For the rest of the evening, up until they went to sleep, Tom was telling stories left and right, voice permitting. It was a low volume storytelling, but his wife was just glad to hear his voice while she had the chance. And hot cocoa always makes the throat feel better, no matter if it’s Christmas or not.

#rebelliousstories #writing #top gun imagine #top gun #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #iceman x reader #iceman fanfiction #iceman val kilmer #tom kazansky imagine #iceman imagine #25 days of ficmas #25 days of christmas

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 1 year

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Permanent

A/N: I don’t know if anyone else has ever felt like this, but I remember someone once telling me something along the lines of, “You’re the girl boys are going to marry. Those other girls are the one’s they’re just playing with for now.” I’m not trying to put other women down at all, but I think I’ve struggled a bit with looking at relationships I’ve had in such a logical sense that I’ve never been able to truly apply myself or feel anything more than a sense of temporariness. So this is about the girls that boys marry, and giving all those girls a bit more peace of mind about their true potential. Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word count: 3,304 words Warnings: Angst, panic attacks and anxiety, swearing

You had… struggled with men.

It wasn’t necessarily that you were the problem per se, it was more so that your expectations were. Even in your early 20s you had wanted so badly a boyfriend who was ready to settle down at least a bit, even if it only lasted two or three years. You would’ve never minded the weekend outings with his friends or the independence that most relationships were built on nowadays, but you at least expected some domesticity and consistency.

And according to everyone, especially your friends who were on boyfriend five or six by the age of 25, that wasn’t reasonable.

“Listen, Y/N,” Jessica said through the loud conversation of the bar you were in, music interrupting just a bit in the background. “It’s not that men don’t like you, or that you’re an undesirable person, it’s that they don’t want you right now.”  “You’re the type of girl they’ll marry.” That was the key phrase, the one that had been repeated over and over to you. At this point you were sure it was being said solely because if your friends said it enough, they believed it would come through. You were also slightly relying on that theory too.

And sure, just looking at the men around your age in your life and backtracking their behavior and relationships could easily prove that theory. Most of the girls they dated didn’t last longer than a couple months, a year if they were somehow lucky enough to stick. They were usually more wild, wanted to go out every Friday and Saturday until they were completely wasted and walking through the streets of New York aimlessly. Nothing against them, that just wasn’t you.

“Gerard will inevitably go for you,” Georgie had said optimistically, “Just give him time, ya know? He’s going for crazy girls right now, give him another two years. Once men hit 30, they have a switch go off in their brains and suddenly all they want is to wife up the right woman, buy a house in a nice suburb, and trade in their fun car for a reliable 7-seater SUV.” You groaned a bit at the wait time she proposed and the generally unlikely thought that someone like him would actually date you, let alone marry you.

Sure your crush was relatively obvious, but that’s all it was. A crush. A stupid little liking because, yes, he was attractive, and you two seemed more than comfortable with one another. Only in those fantasy worlds you dream when trying to fall asleep would the two of you be married in a white picket fence house. To begin with, neither of you would completely apply themselves to that lifestyle, and Gerard was off in his own world doing his own things and would never think of you in a way that would allow for such a relationship to exist.

And now, sitting here in a club you didn’t necessarily want to be at, those worlds seemed to divide even more. You slowly sipped on your vodka Red Bull that was meh in the grand scheme of drinks you had drank in your years. Your friends sitting next to you at this round booth that was obnoxiously worn for how nice it looked were off in their own conversation about something you lost track off long ago. Your eyes were now far more focused on the way Gerard was interacting with his newest fling, whatever her name was. He was currently going through a stage of girls he found so disposable that you didn’t even have to know the names of them. Soon enough, they were gone too.

Your stomach only knotted itself in a more complicated tangle when her hands drifted around and to the back of his neck, using his slightly taller frame to balance herself with a stupidly innocent yet dangerous smile on his face, that judging by his smirk/smile combo he was eating up, unlike you. And finally, the way their bodies touched in such close proximity, his hands tightly grasping the hips of her tiny and snug dress, and their lips met it what seemed to be at least a halfway genuine kiss had caused your brain to enter overdrive.

You placed your glass down on the table, the outside now dewey from the contrast of how long it had been out to the growing heat with an obnoxiously large amounts of moving bodies everywhere. “Y/N-“ One of your friends called, trying to grab your attention.  “I need- air.” Was all you were able to muster out, grabbing your coat. Scrambling through these large bodies of people only made your emotions more spiked and generally freaked out, and finally by the end you were in a dark hallway leading to the exit. You marched towards it and outside.

You were hoping for some fresh air, but living in a big city held no such luxury. Instead, all you could smell was a nearby sewer, cigarette smoke, and some pizza place a couple storefronts down. None of this was helping.

After a moment of contemplation as to whether going back in there was a good idea, your minds reaction switched to a simple “run” and that led you marching home. You were grateful you had gotten over the “I want to look cute so I’ll wear high heels” phase of your life, because your tennis shoes right now were saving you from days of pain and blisters at the pace you were walking.

You weren’t sure anymore if you were running from the club itself and the atmosphere you could care less for, or him. This was a cycle that happened every time and everywhere you went with him. You would show up with your friends to clubs or bars thinking it was somehow, magically going to be different from the last time. Within an hour, you had left usually with the excuse you had a lot of work to do over the weekend (a very blatant lie) or that you just weren’t feeling well (code phrase for: I’m sick and tired of seeing him all up on other girls). You wanted tonight to be different though.

You had quickly decided to not respond to his texts. You would get home, text one of your friends letting her know you were safe, and turn off your phone for the night. You wouldn’t be the one to deal with his text messages that came flooding in about how much he adored you, how pretty you were, how he never wants to make you feel uncomfortable because you’re just such a special person to him. It was probably the adrenaline high, gaining mass amounts of validation from girls prettier than you, but you were over his tendencies to fuck with you and make you believe there was even a slight shot you had at a relationship with him. It was like he ignored your Monday movie nights which always ended up in you cuddling together, or every Wednesday when he would take you out to dinner just to “check in” since you were that important to him. But in moments like these, you realized you were the last thing on his mind. And that was the problem.

As soon as you got home you had followed the plan as created. Texting your friend to tell her you were at home and nothing had happened to you, and shutting off your phone loosely throwing it onto your bed. You slipped off your shoes and took off this stupid little back dress that you couldn’t help but wonder if you even looked good in anymore. He went with you to the mall when you found it. Called you gorgeous, and insisted you buy it, stating “that dress was made for you”. Clearly it wasn’t amusing anymore. You carelessly threw it on the floor of your closet next to old boxes of shoes and hoped it would be eaten by them and never seen again.

You decided on a quick shower, letting the steam and scorching hot water burn your feet a bit before stepping out and prepping your hair for the night. You decided on a sleep mask a friend had gotten you for Christmas from a store that specialized in products for sensitive skin, which unfortunately was perfect for you. Finally, you settled in bed with your computer, debating whether to find a good book or TV show.

Maybe a minor mistake. You quickly realized that your texts transferred over to your laptop, and now here you sat debating whether to open up the five unread messages from Gerard. You decided against it, despite the little red bubble in the corner of the icon that was obnoxiously yelling at you to open it up. But you had some element of self control even in an emotional state, and knew you couldn’t deal with a man child right now for your own sake.

You had curled up with an old comfort show of yours from when you were a kid. Your mind immediately flashed back to the couple of moments when you weren’t doing well, Gerard coming in to check on you and watching it with you. Despite it being a literal kids cartoon probably produced for seven year olds, he had no protests to your knowledge and seemed to enjoy it. But you quickly pushed those remaining thoughts out of your mind and tried to focus on the present itself.

You were nearly on the brink of falling asleep, having gotten through a good four or five episodes, your brewed and boiling tea now room temperature and the surface of the water now staining the inside of the mug where its edge met the ceramic. That was when you got the little ding on your computer, looking at the top right corner where your notifications came in.

“I’m outside your door,” The words flashing under the name Gerard Way made your eyes grow wide. “Please open up, I don’t want to knock and disturb your neighbors.”  Oh, so now he’s being selfless, but only for your damn neighbors who you barely knew. You decided to leave it be, assuming he would leave soon enough.

“Open up. I will start knocking.” Was the next text. You scoffed at the tone of his message, coming off as a complete and utter dick. Which right about now he was.

Only 15 seconds later and the string of knocks came, literally not stopping.

Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock-

The man would not leave your door alone and was clearly unwilling to unwind his fist and take his ass home. You stomped out of bed and up to your door where you swung it open, to reveal Gerard there in that damn leather jacket you loved so much on him, hair in multiple different directions, and eyeliner beginning to smudge and look more like raccoon eyes. “What the fuck do you need.” Was all you stated as he tightly smiled at you.

“It’s nice to see you too,” Was all he could say, trying to casually step into your apartment but promptly being blocked by you moving in his way.  “If you need something right now, tell me. I’m not playing games.” He took a sigh, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms, clearly too oblivious to understand any ounce of the problem you were currently having with him.

“Why did you leave? Again?” He asked as if your want to leave a boring and shitty club was your fault.

“Are you for real right now?” You asked him with a scoff as he stood there in his self-righteous glory, “You do this every fucking weekend. Invite me out with our friends, leave me as soon as we get into the fucking place to go and hang out with- whoever your fucking now” He seemed intrigued by your tone judging by his face of amusement which only fired you up more, “And I’m left in the fucking booth with nothing to do.”  “You could come out and dance with me-“  “Bullshit!” You immediately called, interrupted him, “Not when you have a girl pressed up so close against you that you would actually be fucking her had you not had clothes on.”

This time he seemed more startled by your outburst, “Listen,” You sighed a bit, trying to take a deep breath and calm yourself before your apartment manager was called by the neighbors. “I’m really done with this whole situation. If you’re not interested in me, genuinely, please just leave. I can’t deal with someone nagging me on like a dog with a bone, and expecting they’ll put as much thought and effort into this when they don’t. I get you’re still in your phase of experimenting with people, totally fine. But don’t play with me when you know I’m ready for something bigger and more permanent.” You gave him one more tight smile, the most genuine you could pull as he stood there in a bit of awe, “Goodnight, Gerard.”

You were closing the door when you felt a force push back, and this time Gerard actually managed to maneuver his way in. Before you could even process his presence, he had taken your cheeks in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You froze for a good couple of seconds before giving in against every logical neuron firing their cannons in your brain, and kissing him back. It felt needed, so passionate and powerful that you felt your entire body heat up as if every blood vessel wanted to be known with a blush tone painting your skin.

As soon as he let you go to give you some breathing room, his hands still on your face, you pulled away. You only got a glimpse of his softened face and wide eyes before they turned to disappointment and face dropping in the same fashion. “D-don’t do that.” Was all you could mutter out, now on the brink of tears and choking on the sudden dryness in your throat. “I- we can’t- I can’t do this.”

You had felt your body go to its natural reaction when entering a panic attack, your face scrunching up so it turned sour, breathes beginning to stumble on each other, and body feeling like it was shaking. “Shit.” You heard Gerard mutter, feeling his arms wrap around you and slowly walking you to your couch.

You felt the cloth couch under you given that you were wearing loose shorts and Gerard let go of you which actually felt a lot better than the squeezing sensation against your shoulder. “Sweetheart,” You heard lightly through the pounding in your ear drums, “I need you to take deep breaths, count. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2…” The sequence continued as you slowly started focusing on your breath again and back to having relatively more control of your consciousness. As soon as you felt like you could speak again, you mumbled out.

“I- I’m s-sorry.” It was all you could say as your tears stained your face even more. It was a natural response for you to apologize for overly-showing emotions, despite years of therapists and others telling you it wasn’t something you should do.

“No, honey, it’s okay.” He reassured, placing his hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that and led you into a panic attack I- that’s so fucked up.”

“You didn’t mean t-to.” You managed to say out loud. The room was silent for a few more seconds, Gerard grabbing the TV remote and turning it on.  “Ah, perfect.” He said as your comfort show was of course the first thing that popped up. He hit play without asking for any permission. He got up, finding your pile of blankets on one of the chairs in the back corner of the living room, picking one out and coming back, draping it over the two of you. He was quick to place his arm around your shoulder, allowing you to find the comfort of his shoulder as a resting place for your head. He gave you a kiss on the head before whispering into your ear, “Anything else I can do?” You shook your head deciding you needed some more time to calm down before pursuing the serious conversation you were inevitably going to have tonight and just trying to enjoy the moment.

It all felt a bit surreal, and more like a movie. You had questioned if this was Gerard again just trying to keep you at bay, and if your words actually meant nothing to him but a manipulative tool to make sure you stayed. As your mind ran with this, you finally had to pop the question. “Are we doing this, yes or no?”

Simple as that and turning to him now more serious, he looked back at you, then at the TV with the remote to pause the show. It was a bit comical almost to see this very serious conversation was about to begin with a cartoon character in the background. “Do you want to?” Was all he asked back.

“I’ve wanted to for a while. It’s you I’ve been forced to wait for.” He smiled a bit at your response with it’s hint of snark, “And don’t just say yes to keep me, I can’t deal with this again. If you want to do this, you need to be 100% sure. If you need more time, you can take it. But I don’t want you to say yes for me, you need to say yes for you.”  He took another moment, his eyes scanning your face while his small smile still remained. “You know I would say yes to anything you wanted.”  “Gee that’s not the point,” You argued back, “I don’t want to be stuck in a full blown relationship if you don’t want one. But I also don’t want to continue to play cat and mouse with you and be left waiting alone every night while you’re out with other girls. If you want me, you have all of me. If you don’t, you have none of me.”

You were finally turning the tables, letting him know how it was going to go. Finally taking control of this uncontrollable ship that was on its way to sink for a while. This was the sink or float moment.

He took a sigh, “I think I’m ready, if we’re being honest.” He admitted, “I’ve kind of realized how stupid it is to spend all this time with these girls who I know I’m never gonna be with in the long run. I would much rather spend it with someone I can picture marrying.”

Well that was a bomb if one was ever dropped. You stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, before he spoke up again. “Most of the girls I dated was to distract me from you, anyways. I think I was running more from the idea of commitment than I was from you. But I’m ready to settle down, call it quits. Just be normal.”

“You mean it?” Was all you could manage to respond with, “Please tell me you mean it.”  “I never lie to you, sweetheart, you of all people know that.”

He wasn’t wrong. In your years long of friendship/flirty/kinda-dating-but-not-really-situationship he had never lied to you once. He had fucked with you a bit to keep you on edge with him, but never truly, fully lied. You hoped that this was no different.

“This better not be the first,” You said back, “Because I’ll give up anything and everything for you.”

#gerard way #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way x reader #gerard way x y/n #gerard way x you #mcr gerard #my chemical gerard #gee way #my chemical gee #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical romance x reader #mcr #mcr fanfiction

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potsandpains · 2 years

Text

practically perfect in every way part 2

hotch x fem!reader

Part 1:

Part 3:

Part 4:

AN: alrighty y’all I still have no fetching clue what I’m doing I just have many thoughts and need to get them out. Perhaps it’s time I learn to proofread lol. This part is a liiiitle suggestive if you squint lol

Jack is 6 at the beginning of this bc I feel like it, and Haley is dead. rip. Hotch is around 40ish, reader is 25-26ish.

summary: Aaron Hotchner is looking for a nanny for his son. As luck would have it, the perfect candidate finds her way into their home and into Aaron’s head and heart.

/ / /

“Alright dude, we have soccer in 20 minutes, so I need you to clean up the legos.” Y/n hollered up the stairs of the Hotchner house.

“Can I have 5 more minutes please?” Jack yelled.

“5 more minutes is fine, but I’m setting a timer on my phone and when it goes off I’ll come help you clean up.” y/n replied.

“Okay!!”

He watched as y/n set the timer on her phone and walked to the kitchen, getting together the snacks and water bottles for Jack’s soccer team. Since Jack was so young and it was only recreational soccer it wasn’t very competitive (or very serious for that matter, Aaron had watched Jack shove dandelions in his shin guards and sit on the field rather than chase after the ball some games) it wasn’t the most high stress environment, but Aaron loved coaching him, even if it was just him practically herding the kids towards the right goal.

It was an added bonus that y/n had played soccer in high school and acted as his co-coach (and took his place when he was gone for cases), since she was great at hyping up their little team.

Any time he got to spend with y/n was an added bonus in Aaron’s opinion. She’d been with them for six months now, and she was the perfect nanny for Jack. She was fun and light and happy, but she wasn’t afraid to help Jack learn when he did something wrong and to discipline him if needed. She found ways to help him get out of his shell and be social, something that wasn’t always easy for Jack since he was on the shy side.

She was understanding of Aaron’s schedule and always kept him updated with pictures of Jack or a text with the rundown of their day. She made fun of his perpetual scowl and called him a grouch when he was too serious, but knew when to be gentle when a case was particularly bad.

The timer on y/n’s phone went off and Aaron braced himself for the whining he was sure was coming. Jack had been very independent as of late, and had disliked any kind of instructions or “bossing around” from his dad, especially when it came time to put away the legos.

He watched y/n walk up the stairs and heard her say to Jack “Alright friend, 5 minutes is up. Do you want to put away the legos quietly or do you want me to play some music and we can try and get it done before the song is over?”

“Can we listen to Encanto?” He heard Jack ask.

“Encanto sounds good! We just have to have all the legos put away AND have your soccer uniform on before the song ends, okay?”

“Okay!”

As We Don’t Talk About Bruno played from upstairs, Aaron sat on the couch in nothing less but complete shock. No whining? None? How on earth did she do it?

A short song later Y/n and Jack came down the stairs, Jack in his soccer uniform and ready to rumble.

“Hey! Ready to go?” Y/n asked.

Aaron hadn’t moved from the couch and was still in his suit.

“I’m - Sorry I lost track of time, I’ll change and then we can go.” He replied, sitting up from the couch.

After changing into jeans and a t-shirt, they made their way to the car. Jack, feeling a little impatient, tried to hustle him along. As y/n buckled him into the car Jack turned to the trunk where Aaron was putting the snacks and water bottles for the team and remarked indignantly, “Come on, dad, you're making us late!”

“Jack,” He heard y/n say. Directing her voice to the trunk, she said to Aaron, “We're good on time, Hotch, don't worry about it. If anyone is making us late it's the guy who changed his socks 4 different times. Be nice to your dad, dude." she gestured to Jack's feet, where two mismatched socks (one blue polka dots and the other plain purple) peaked out from his shin guards.

Jack shrugged. "I'm pretty sure they're lucky. Had to make sure they were the right ones."

Aaron got into the driver seat as y/n slid in the passenger side. “Since when do you call me Hotch?”

“Is that okay?” She laughed slightly, “I know I’ve only been working for you for like six months, but ‘Mr. Hotchner’ makes me feel like I’m reporting to the principal's office and since you’re my boss I feel weird calling you Aaron. Hotch seemed like neutral ground.”

He laughed at that too. Starting the car, he backed out of the driveway. “Oh-yeah that’s fine. My team calls me Hotch, so I was wondering if you picked it up from them.” He replied.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Great minds think alike then.”

He smiled, to himself mostly.

“Daddy can I call you Hotch?” Jack piped up from the backseat.

“No buddy, but if you really want i have a super cool secret nickname." He said, sass evident in his tone.

"what is it?"

"it's dad," he whispered dramatically.

“I already call you dad!” He whined.

“So you’re a pro! You’re already so good at calling me that because you have so much practice!” He said.

Jack folded his arms, scowled, and looked defiantly out the window.

“Hey Jack do you know what else you’re a pro at?” y/n asked, redirecting his attention. “I think you’re a pro soccer player and that you’re definitely going to win your game.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Oh totally!”

“Do you think I’ll get to score a goal?”

“Why not? Tonight could totally be the night you score a goal. It’ll be for the right team and everything,” She turned around and extended her fist. “You got this dude.”

“I only scored on the wrong goal once and they didn’t even count it.” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “That’s what I mean! This one will definitely count. Are you going to leave me hanging?” She said, gesturing to her still outstretched fist.

Jack gave her a knuckles and was all smiles the rest of the car ride.

/ / /

“Come on bud you can do it! The ball’s right there! No-no your goal is the other one buddy, don’t kick the ball at your teammates goal!” Aaron yelled to Jack.

Soccer with six year olds was a great bonding experience for children and parents, as well as a wonderful test of patience.

Aaron and y/n were standing on the sidelines of Jack’s soccer game. It was about three quarters of the way done and they were tied 1-1. Aaron could see just how badly Jack wanted to score a goal, but Aaron wasn’t sure if he knew which goal to shoot towards. Y/n was to his left and making a plan on when to put in their two subs and keeping an eye on who looked like they needed a break.

A little girl on their team approached the sideline from the field, breathing heavily. She stopped in front of y/n and in a tired voice asked “Mrs. Hotchner can I come out? I need a drink.”

Aaron’s face went bright red and he pretended not to hear her. Suddenly the grass below his feet became very interesting to look at. He did his best to conceal his flushed face.

Y/n was not so lucky.

Blushing immensely, Y/n ushered the girl to the sidelines and said “Sure sweetheart, swap with Oliver here. Ollie, ask if anyone wants a break, okay?” She turned to the little girl, Aaron was pretty sure her name was Sophie. Y/n handed her a water bottle and knelt down to her height.

“Hey friend, I’m not Mrs. Hotchner. I’m not married to Jack’s dad. My name is y/n, you can call me that. Sound okay?”

Sophie shrugged. She didn’t seem to care. “Okay,” she agreed, walking back to the sidelines to resume watching the game.

Aaron was watching this interaction close enough that he hardly noticed the commotion on the field. Jack, his Jack, had managed to kick the ball far ahead of him and was now racing towards the goal. The correct goal, even.

Y/n stood up and raced to his side as they both cheered him on.

“Come on Jack, keep going dude!”

“You can do it buddy, shoot it!”

In what can only be described as slow motion, Jack gave a massive kick (the kind he would say was with all his muscles) and the ball made its way through the air and beyond the goalie’s reach and neatly into the back of the net.

They erupted in cheers, and Aaron wrapped y/n in his arms, picking her up and spinning her in excitement. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, cheering for Jack. Gazing at the smile on her face, his arms tightened around her waist and a warm feeling settled in his chest. She was so pretty. And so lovely. Realizing what he was doing and what it looked like, he turned his gaze to Jack and the field, back to Y/n, back to Jack and the field once again, and slowly began to lower her down.

Once more on the ground, Y/n’s arms remained on his shoulders as she looked up at him with a warm, happy look on her face. Catching his eye and realizing the mortification of his expression. She quickly retracted her arms and took a small step away from him.

He assumed she was doing her best to make light of the situation when she softly punched him in the arm and held up her hand for a high five. “Right goal and everything. Nice job, coach.”

He returned the high five with a grin. “What can I say? He’s a pro.”

/ / / /

Aaron took Jack and y/n out for a celebratory ice cream after the game. A game winning goal seemed like it should warrant such an event, after all.

Once they got back, y/n volunteered to get Jack bathed and ready for bed. “I’ll get him clean and you can get him to sleep,” She had said, “yours is the way harder job anyway.” insisting he relax until Jack was ready for bed.

Once Jack was bathed and Aaron had tucked him in, Aaron headed back downstairs to the living room where y/n sat on the couch, fingers laced behind her head and her eyes closed. Her eyes opened as he came in. “You okay?” He asked.

“I’m exhausted,” she said. He sat down on the couch opposite her. “Jack decided he didn’t want any help getting out of the tub and slipped on his way out. I caught him, but he tried to grab onto the shower curtain to catch himself and it ripped right off the rings. I’m glad he didn’t fall but it scared the life out of me.”

Aaron said nothing, just raised his eyebrows. He knew she didn’t need him freaking out on her, and she would have yelled for him if things weren’t okay. She knew he trusted her.

“I’m fine and Jack’s fine, it just rattled me a little bit. Remind me to buy a new shower curtain on Monday. I just-” She rubbed her eyes. Aaron thought she did look tired. “ I think I’m going to take a bath myself and then go to bed. Do you need anything else?”

He was sure there were plenty of things he needed, but he had no clue how to voice them.

He needed to apologize for what had happened at the soccer game. He needed to apologize for that little girl thinking they were married and that he might actually like the sound of it. He needed to apologize for thinking Y/n Hotchner had a really nice ring to it. He needed to apologize for how pleased he was when she gave him a nickname. He needed to apologize for just how much he loved seeing her with his son, and how grateful he was that she loved Jack so much. He needed to apologize for just how much he liked her and his growing attraction for her.

He shook his head.

She began walking up the stairs.

“Actually wait.” She stopped to look at him, and Aaron felt his resolve crumbling. “Earlier today you managed to get Jack to put away his legos and put on his soccer uniform without him whining at all. How did you do it?”

“Oh,” she said, leaning against the banister. Was that disappointment in her voice? “Ya know, kids are a lot more like adults than you think. Not many people like being told what to do all the time. Heaven knows you don’t,” she said.

“What?”

“You seem like you like to be in charge of things Mr. Unit Chief, even outside of your work life.” She looked him up and down. “Or am I wrong?”

He bit his tongue and let out a breath. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Jack gets it from you then. So instead of me telling him to do something just because I say so, which he would absolutely hate, I like to give him options and involve him in the process so that way he feels like he has a say in what he’s doing.”

Aaron nodded. He’d never thought of it that way.

Y/n continued. “I like to present him with choices that don’t really matter to me, so that way it doesn’t really matter which option he picks because things get done either way.”

“That’s really smart.” He’d been a parent for how many years and this hadn’t occurred to him? “I’ll have to do that more.”

“It’s a great tactic, and not just with kids. I use it on you sometimes too.” She smiled.

“Wait, what? You use it on me?”

She didn’t reply, only raising her eyebrows shrugging as she continued walking up the stairs. Something about the subtle up-down look she gave him made him think that when she said “outside your work life” she meant something else entirely.

He shook his head. This was crazy. He was crazy.

/ / /

It wasn’t uncommon for y/n to stay over on the weekends. In the instance Aaron was called on a case, it was easier if she happened to already be there. The house had a spare bedroom that was right next to Jack’s, and she seemed more than willing to stay over.

Y/n also insisted on staying because her current apartment only had a shower, and whenever she wanted to take a bubble bath she could stay at their house and use the bathtub in the bathroom she shared with Jack.

Y/n hadn’t been upstairs for long before Aaron’s phone rang. Recognizing JJ’s number he answered.

“Hey, Hotch. We’ve got a bad one. Family annihilator in Florida. How quick can you get here?”

“I’m on my way, be there soon.”

He went upstairs and got his go-bag together, going over the same mental checklist he always did before he left. Toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, deodorant, razor- wait.

His razor wasn’t in his toiletry bag because Jack had wanted, no insisted that he teach him how to shave his face (despite his evident lack of facial hair) so it was probably still in Jack’s bathroom. He knew y/n was in there, but he was sure he could be in and out without an issue. It was probably just on the counter.

He walked down the hall and knocked on the bathroom door. “Hey, y/n. Sorry I have a case and I need to go.”

“Okay! Thanks for the heads up!” She replied.

“Yeah of course. Listen, uh, yesterday Jack wanted me to teach him how to shave and I think I left my razor on the counter. Can I come in and grab it real quick?”

There was a pause. “Uh, well,” y/n hesitated. “I mean there isn’t currently a shower curtain in here from Jack’s incident earlier but-”

Realizing what he had just asked, Aaron's eyes widened. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean- I just- I forgot- Never mind. I’ll borrow one from Dave.”

“No no no it’s okay.” She answered quickly. “I uh, I know how particular you are with razors and heaven help your team if you’re grouchy because you cut your face shaving” y/n replied, laughing awkwardly.

“I don’t get grouchy from-”

“Just- just give me a sec, okay?”

He waited silently as he heard light splashing and movement from inside the bathroom.

“You can- you can come in. I used a lot of bubble bath so I’m completely covered. You shouldn’t… see anything.”

Face aflame, Aaron took a deep breath. The bathroom was set up with the counter to the right and the bathtub straight ahead, about six feet from the door. If he kept his eyes on the counter he would be fine. Never mind the fact his son's nanny that he liked far more than he cared to admit and that had been mistaken for his wife at his son’s soccer game was right in front of him, with nothing but bubble bath and sheer embarrassment between them.

He eased open the door and kept his eyes glued to the counter, scanning for his razor.

Don’t look up don’t look up don’t look up-

“Where’s your case?” y/n asked.

“It’s uh- it’s in Florida.” He was having a hard time using his eyes to look for the razor and talking at the same time.

“Oh man. Florida. How crazy is it? Do you know?”

“JJ said it was bad, I don’t know much else.” Where was his stupid razor?

“Are you having a hard time finding it? What does your razor look like?”

He knew she was just trying to be helpful like she always was but he couldn’t find his razor and it wasn’t on the counter and he didn’t know if what he’d do if he had to look at her to answer her questions and he was sure his face was so red-

“Is it black and green? I think I moved it off the counter so Jack couldn’t reach it. It should be in the shower caddy. Hold on-”

Aaron’s eyes were still glued to the counter when he heard light splashing as he was sure y/n was moving to grab the razor from the caddy. It took more willpower than he cared to admit to not look up into the mirror’s reflection.

When the splashing settled he cleared his throat.

“Here,” y/n said.

Oh dear.

He cleared his throat and turned to look at her, and saw her sitting in the tub with her arm outstretched, razor in hand. She was right, He thought, She had used a lot of bubble bath. The swell of her chest was visible, but everything below it was completely covered in lavender scented bubbles, leaving her collarbones and shoulders exposed. Her hair was piled messily on the top of her head, her cheeks flushed pink (probably just from the heat of the water, he reminded himself), and a very amused look on her face.

Aaron felt the familiar warm feeling in his chest- just like he had at the soccer game. He was also certain his heart had somehow dropped into his stomach.

The long line of her collarbone, shoulder, and extended arm looked almost graceful as he tried his best not to stare.

“Is this it?”

“What?” He said stupidly.

“Is this your razor?”

“Oh, yeah it is. Thanks.” He reached forward and grabbed it from her outstretched arm, making a conscious effort not to touch her hand or any of her skin for that matter. Skin that he was sure that was very soft and smelled like lavender and-

He swallowed and made to leave the bathroom. “I’ll keep you updated on the case.”

“Hey, Hotch!” She said as he was just about out the door.

He turned around and gave her a lingering look. He saw her face flush, and with an embarrassed smile she said “Let me know when you land, okay?”

He nodded, saying nothing as he exited the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Walking down the hall and assembling the rest of his go-bag, he couldn’t get her concerned face out of his mind.

Once he was all set to go, he made his way down the hall and knocked on the bathroom once more.

“Yeah?” y/n said, a question in her tone.

“I’m- I’m heading out. Give Jack a hug for me.” He said through the door. He didn’t open it. He didn’t trust himself not to say or do something ridiculous if he did.

“I always do,” She replied, “Be safe! And hey, come home as quick as you can, Hotch. We miss you around here when you’re gone.”

He smiled to himself. “I will.”

He was determined to come home to her as quick as he could.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch #jack hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine

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