#and this scene in particular broke me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mystra-midnight · 7 months ago

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— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?"

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed.

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside.

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends.

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself.

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect.

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you.

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely.

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact.

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him.

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush.

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape.

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you.

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

tag list ::

@micheledawn1975 | @maxstecc

—interest in being tagged in future chapters? send me a message!

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie x innocent!reader #call me little sunshine #call me little sunshine - part one

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peachdues · 2 months ago

Text

something something love as worship

CW: MDNI. Explicit sexual content below. Creampie. Squirting. Pussydrunk!Giyuu

Y/N’s release rocked through her and Giyuu swore he’d ascended to heaven.

The moment the warm, slick walls of her heat seized around his length, Giyuu’s own climax exploded. With a strangled yell, he pushed his cock as deep as it could go within her honeyed warmth and erupted, his seed barreling into her hard enough to make stars appear in the corners of his eyes. His body was locked and rigid as he came, Y/N distantly mewling below him as her legs vibrated around his neck, still lost among the waves of her own dizzying high, Giyuu’s hand still working diligently between her legs.

Panting hard, Giyuu canted his hips, nearly seizing at the jolt of electric pleasure that surged down his spine as he worked to prolong his release.

His eyes flew open as he felt a pair of gentle hands seek him out, latching around his hips to pull him in, to hold him in place as he continued to fill her.

What little sense Giyuu had managed to cling onto fell away with a deep groan as he lost himself in the paradise Y/N’s body, his mind fading to white and falling numb to everything that wasn’t her.

Close. The word was barely more than a distant echo in his ears, but it was all he could comprehend in the moment. He wanted her to be close.

He’d not realized his fingers were still twiddling with that nub between Y/N’s legs, even as she cried out, her hands shooting to wrap around his wrist in a fruitless effort to still him, her nails sinking lightly into his skin. But he was far too gone, far too enraptured over his worship in the altar of her body; and so, his fingers kept circling and pressing until the Miko’s legs started jerkily twitching around his shoulders.

Only when he felt rush of fluid coat his groin and lower abdomen did Giyuu’s pleasure-hazy eyes finally open, a contented half-smile on his lips that disappeared as he watched Y/N make an utter mess of them both under his relentless stimulation of his hand.

As Giyuu beheld the way his fiance moaned, tears of pleasure and exhaustion gathering in her eyes, he recalled a particular comment Tengen had made to him earlier, as he’d explained all he would need to do to ensure Y/N’s satisfaction.

If you try hard enough, you might end up soaked by her — that means you’ve done your job!

A small squeak from below him broke Giyuu’s fixation away from the sticky wetness now saturating his groin, calling his attention back to the trembling Shrine Maiden beneath him.

“F-forgive me,” she stuttered, glowing a deep shade of crimson. “I don’t —“

“This was all because of me?” His hand finally withdrew from its place between the Miko’s thighs, moving instead to swipe his fingers through the wetness coating his lower stomach. “I made you feel that good?”

Slowly, Y/N nodded, her eyes wide.

“Incredible,” Giyuu delighted, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.

yes this is in connection with the “I wish to do it again” scene let him live

#he almost died and now gets to be with the love of his life let him have as much 🐱 as he wants #giyuu tomioka #kny x reader #giyuu x reader #kny fanfic #demon slayer fanfic

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ateezscupid · 3 months ago

Text

Ateez Imagines: Getting pegged for the first time ♡

— Hyung Line: k.hj, p.sh, j.yh, k.ys

warnings ✩ pegging (obviously) sub!ateez, switch!fem reader, praise, degradation, dirty talk, edging, fingering (m receiving), handjob

tags ✩ @shinestarhwaa @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @jeonride @wooyoungisbaby @nyang3racha @hwakakeri @nnnarchives @ihavetoomanyfandomstobesane @v-lvs-yungi @hwashotcheeto @ja3hwa @kisaraginami @10nantscompanion @shhyesimmonroeagainpt2 @hwallazia @wisejudgedragonhairdo @10nantscompanion @hwashotcheeto @yeosang-dot-mp3 @akimkim @fruitcakebin @akimkim @k-pop-valda @onedumbho3 @yuyubeans @another-random-fanfic-blog @sinforsuccubus @/moonwalkerinaugust741 @yun-fangz @bnming @winklehwa @/meowmeeps @/kosmicbomb @lover-ofallthingspretty @writhingwrecked @jiwoongsblondehair @/ladymilkywayfortune

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST

HONGJOONG

"Babe, I need to tell you something," Hongjoong said, his voice crackling with tension as he broke the silence of your cozy apartment. You looked up from your book, your eyes wide with curiosity. You’d known him for a while now, and when he talked like this, it was usually about something important.

"What's up?" you asked, setting your book aside and turning to face him.

Hongjoong took a deep breath. "You know how we've been trying new things in the bedroom?"

You nodded, your expression shifting to one of understanding. You’d been together for a year, and your relationship was marked by a spirit of adventure and openness. "Yeah, I've been lovin’ it," you said with a warm smile, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

"Well, I've been doing some reading," he began, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. "And I've been thinking about trying out some new kinks."

Your eyes lit up with interest. "Oh? What kind of kinks?"

"Well, there's one in particular," he said, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I've always been kind of curious about…pegging."

You leaned in, your curiosity piqued. "Pegging?"

"Yeah, y’know," he replied, a hint of shyness in his voice. "Like, when a girl uses a strap-on on a guy."

Your eyes grew even wider, and you couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Wow, that's..." you paused, searching for the right word. "Surprising."

"But you're cool with it?" he asked, hopeful.

You nodded, your smile never wavering. "If it's something you wanna try, then I'm all for it."

Relief washed over him. "Really?"

"Yeah," you said, your voice firm. "Long as we’re both happy and we both consent, I don’t see why not.”

Hongjoong felt his heart race. He'd been nervous about bringing this up, but your response was more accepting than he could have ever hoped for. "Thank you," he said, leaning over to kiss you. "Thank you so much."

Your eyes sparkled with excitement. "Luckily, I already own a strap-on," you revealed, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "I was just waiting for you to say something."

He pulled back, surprised. "You do?"

"Mmhmm," you nodded, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. "I picked it up a while ago, just to keep things interesting. The store I bought it from was having a sale, anyway.”

You decided to start slow, setting a date for your new adventure. The days leading up to it were filled with a mix of excitement and nerves. You talked about it in hushed tones, sharing your thoughts and expectations. You assured him that you’d be gentle, that you’d take it step by step, and that you could stop at any point if he felt uncomfortable.

On the day of your rendezvous, the tension in the air was palpable. You both agreed to set the scene, making your living room into a makeshift boudoir with candles and soft music. You wore a lacy lingerie set that made Hongjoong's pulse quicken, and you had the strap-on laid out on the bed, gleaming in the soft candlelight.

When the moment finally came, you approached him with the strap-on, your eyes locked on his. "Ready?" you asked, your voice a mix of excitement and concern.

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah…yes, yeah," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I'm ready."

You leaned over and reached for the bottle of lube on the side table. You squirted a generous amount onto your fingers, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You looked back at him, your eyes dark with anticipation. Slowly, you brought your hand to his backside, your touch sending shivers down his spine.

"Relax," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear. You began to circle his hole with one finger, applying gentle pressure. He tensed up at first, but your reassuring strokes and soft kisses along his neck helped him to ease into it. As you pushed your finger inside, he gasped, his body tightening around you. You waited for a moment, allowing him to adjust to the new sensation, before you started to move it in and out, the lube making it smooth and easy.

With each stroke, he felt himself relaxing more and more. He'd never felt anything like this before, but the pleasure was undeniable. He leaned into your touch, his cock growing harder by the second. He watched you in the mirror, your eyes focused and determined as you worked him open. It was a strange, vulnerable feeling, but it was also incredibly erotic, watching the woman he loved take control in such an intimate way.

As you added a second finger, he moaned, his eyes fluttering shut. The sensation was intense, but he was ready for more. He could feel your excitement building too, your breath quickening as you watched his reactions in the mirror. You leaned down and kissed him, your tongue dancing with his as you continued to prepare him for what was to come.

"Are you okay?" you asked, your voice soothing.

He nodded, his eyes still closed. "Y-Yeah," he breathed. "It feels... amazing."

You felt a thrill of triumph at his words. You’d read about the prostate, the male G-spot, and knew that if you could hit it just right, it would be an experience he'd never forget. You curled your fingers slightly and felt him jolt as you brushed against it. His eyes snapped open, and you watched in the mirror as his pupils dilated with pleasure.

"Oh, f-fuck," he murmured, his hips bucking involuntarily. You stilled your hand, giving him a moment to process the sensation. You could see the question in his eyes, the unspoken "W-What… was that?" But you just smiled and whispered,

"You're doing great," before resuming your slow, deliberate movements.

With each stroke, you grew bolder, applying more pressure to that sensitive spot. He was panting now, his body trembling with every touch. You could feel his muscles tightening around your fingers, and you knew he was close to the edge.

"Y-Y/n," he moaned, his voice strained. "I think I'm... I-I'm gonna..."

"Let go," you urged, your voice low and encouraging. "I've got you, baby."

And with that, you pushed your fingers a little deeper, your thumb pressing firmly against his prostate. The sensation was overwhelming, a wave of pleasure that crashed over him like never before. His body arched off the bed, his eyes squeezed shut as he let out a guttural cry. The orgasm was unlike any he'd ever experienced, a deep, intense release that seemed to start in his toes and work its way up through his entire body. He could feel the muscles in his ass clench around your fingers, his cock pulsing with every spurt of cum that painted the sheets.

When it was over, he collapsed back onto the bed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You gently withdrew your hand, a look of pure satisfaction on your face. "See?" you murmured, leaning down to kiss him softly. "It's all about exploration and trust."

Hongjoong nodded, his eyes still glazed over with pleasure. He could feel the sticky warmth of his release on his stomach, and his ass was still tingling from your expert touch. "Yeah," he managed to say, his voice hoarse. "It was... incredible."

Without wasting any time, you reached for the strap-on. You slipped it on with an air of confidence that made his heart race all over again. The sight of you, dressed in nothing but the lacy lingerie and the leather harness, was enough to make him hard once more. You grabbed his hips, your grip firm but gentle, and positioned yourself behind him. He could feel the coolness of the lubricated toy against his skin, and his nerves spiked in anticipation.

"Remember to breathe," you instructed, your voice calm and steady. "We're gonna take this slow."

He nodded, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. He watched as you pushed the tip of the strap-on against his now-sensitive entrance, applying just enough pressure to allow it to slide in. He gasped as you entered him, the feeling of fullness overwhelming. You waited for him to adjust before you started to move, your hips rocking in a slow, rhythmic motion.

The initial discomfort soon gave way to a building wave of pleasure. With every thrust, you hit that spot deep inside him that you’d found with your fingers, sending bolts of electricity through his body. He could feel his prostate swelling with each pass, the sensation growing more intense with every moment. He moaned, his hands clutching the bedsheets as he tried to hold on.

Your movements grew more deliberate, your breathing quickening as you found your own rhythm. You leaned over him, your breasts pressing against his back as you whispered sweet nothings into his ear. "Do you like it?" you asked, your voice a seductive purr.

"Y-Yes," he gasped, his voice strained. "Oh, G-God, yes-!”

Your eyes met in the mirror, and you gave him a wicked smile. "Good boy," you said, your voice dripping with desire. "Because I'm about to make you come again."

And with that, you picked up the pace, your hips slamming into him with more force. He didn't know how much more he could take, but he didn't want it to stop.

As you thrust into him, he reached down to stroke his cock, the sight of you taking him in the mirror pushing him closer to the edge. His orgasm built quickly, his body tightening as he neared the precipice. He watched as you pushed him over, your own climax written on your face as you moaned in pleasure. Your clit had been rubbing against the fabric of your underwear with each thrust.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your cries of ecstasy echoing through the room. When you were both spent, you pulled out gently and removed the strap-on, collapsing beside him on the bed. You lay there for a moment, your hearts pounding in unison.

"That was..." he began, but the words failed him.

"Amazing,” you finished for him, your voice soft and filled with love. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You held each other tightly, your breathing slowly returning to normal. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a new chapter in your sexual journey that had brought you closer than ever before. And as you lay there, tangled in the aftermath of your passion, you both knew that you were ready to explore whatever kinks and desires your hearts desired.

SEONGHWA

"Hey, Seonghwa," you called out, gout voice bubbling with excitement as you padded through the apartment in your socks. The floorboards were cool under your feet, a stark contrast to the warmth that suffused your cheeks. You had rehearsed this moment in your head for weeks, turning the words over and over until you were smooth as river stones.

Seonghwa poked his head out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. "Yes, dear?" he responded, the scent of simmering garlic and onions filling the air.

Your heart fluttered in your chest like a bird caught in a cage. You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his. "Can I help with dinner?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You know I like cooking for you."

You nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. The kitchen was a cozy cocoon of warm light, the sound of sizzling oil and clinking pans creating a comforting backdrop to your evening ritual. You took a step closer, feeling the heat from the stove against your legs. "But I have a surprise for dessert," you said, your voice barely above a murmur.

Seonghwa looked at you, curiosity piqued. "Oh?"

Your hands trembled slightly as you reached for him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. You leaned in, your cheek against his back, and whispered, "I wanna… peg you."

The room went still, the only sound the persistent hiss of the stove. Seonghwa stiffened, the spatula hovering in the air. You could feel his heartbeat quicken against you.

The silence stretched on, thick and unyielding. You tightened your grip, your pulse racing.

Finally, he turned to face you, setting the spatula down with a clatter. His eyes searched yours, a question etched into the lines of his face. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice low and careful.

Your nod was firm, your eyes unwavering. "I’m asking you. Are you sure? I already have a strap-on.”

For a moment, the air between you two crackled with tension. Then, slowly, a smile spread across Seonghwa's face. He reached up, cupping your cheek with his hand. "Sure," he murmured, "But let's finish cooking first."

“Do you really wanna finish?” you tilts your head with a raised eyebrow, and he scoffs a bit, knowing you were right about him not wanting to finish cooking. The aroma of your dinner filled the room, but the anticipation of what was to come was stronger.

“I’ll just set a timer,” he says, turning back to the stove to do exactly that. The kitchen timer beeps obediently, acknowledging the temporary pause in your culinary endeavors. He turns back to you, his eyes smoldering with desire and a hint of apprehension. You can see he’s trying to keep his cool, but you know he’s just as eager as you are.

You move to the bedroom, the floorboards creaking under your weight as you leave the warm kitchen behind. The room is bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, a stark contrast to the harsh fluorescents of the university halls where your secret relationship had begun. The air is charged with excitement and nerves as you both stand before each other, the weight of your unspoken desires hanging in the air like a ripe fruit ready to drop.

Seonghwa’s eyes widen slightly when he sees the strap-on lying on the bed, gleaming in the candlelight. It’s a new toy, something you’d bought just for tonight. You’d done your research, watched videos, read articles – you wanted this to be perfect for both of you.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your knees touching. He takes your hand, stroking your knuckles with his thumb. “Are you nervous?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“A little,” you admit, your voice shaking. “Even though I’m the one who’s pegging you. So you should be nervous. But I trust you. And I know you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

He nods solemnly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve done my own research on this too… That’s why I’m not so nervous. And yes, I’ll tell you,” he promises.

You leaned in for a kiss, your lips parting slowly, tentatively. It’s a kiss filled with promise and love, a silent pact to explore this new part of your relationship together. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as your tongues dance together.

Breaking away, you grab the lube from the nightstand, your hand shaking slightly. You try to play it cool, but the excitement in your eyes gives you away. Seonghwa watches you, his own hands fumbling with his buttons, his shirt coming off to reveal his bare chest. You can't help but admire the way the candlelight plays off his muscles.

He lays back on the bed, the softness of the mattress enveloping him. You follow suit, kneeling beside him and gently guiding him to lie on his back. His eyes never leave yours as you straddle him, the warmth of your bodies melding together. The air in the room feels charged, as if the very molecules are vibrating with anticipation.

"I'll start with my fingers," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your heart. You lean in, your breath hot against his ear, and he nods, his eyes closing in anticipation. You take a deep breath, your heart racing as you apply the lube to your fingers. You both tremble slightly, the moment feeling both surreal and incredibly intimate.

Your hand moves to his waist, sliding down to the button of his pants. He lifts his hips slightly to help you, and you feel his hardness against your palm. You take another deep breath, your pulse quickening as you unzip his pants. You’ve done this countless times before, but tonight it feels different – charged with a new kind of excitement.

With trembling hands, you slide his pants down, exposing his bare skin. He's already hard, his cock standing proudly against his stomach. You stroke it lightly, watching his face for any signs of discomfort or hesitation. His eyes are closed, his breathing deep and even.

"Ready?" you ask, and he nods, his eyes still closed. You smile, a mix of love and excitement lighting up your features and lean in to kiss him again. Your lips meet in a gentle, lingering kiss that seems to go on forever, your bodies speaking a language only you understand.

Your fingers trace a path down to his ass, the tip of one digit circling his hole. He tenses slightly, and you pauses, waiting for his signal. When he relaxes, You presses in, slow and steady, feeling him open up to you. The sensation is strange and thrilling, and you’re acutely aware of every little sound he makes, every twitch of his body.

Seonghwa's eyes fly open, and he looks at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. "M-More," he whispers, his voice thick with need. You add another finger, your own heart racing in response to his. You’ve never felt so powerful, so connected to him.

The timer in the kitchen beeps, a jarring reminder of the dinner waiting for you. But neither of you care about the food anymore. You’re lost in a world of sensation, a place where only the two of you exist.

Your fingers dance around his prostate, finding the sweet spot with a precision that surprises even you. You can feel him tense and release, his breath hitching in his throat as you explore him. He gasps into Your mouth, the sound muffled by your kiss. His hand tightens around your wrist, urging you to go deeper, faster.

As you do, you wrap your other hand around his cock, your grip firm but gentle. You stroke in time with your fingering, feeling him throb against your palm. The rhythm builds, a crescendo of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm you both. You can feel him getting closer, his hips bucking up to meet your hand.

But you’re not ready for this to end yet. You pull your hand away from his cock, smiling at the whine of protest that escapes his lips. "Patience," you murmur, your voice low and seductive. You reach for the strap-on, your heart pounding in your chest.

Seonghwa watches you, his eyes glazed with desire. You slide the harness over your hips, adjusting it until it fits snugly. The feel of the cool leather against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve never felt so alive, so powerful.

The head of the dildo nudges against his entrance, and you feel his body tense. You pause, looking down at him, your breathing ragged. "Ready?" you asks, and he nods, his eyes never leaving yours.

Slowly, you pressed in, feeling the resistance give way as you fill him up. He gasps, his eyes rolling back in his head. The sound sends a thrill through you, and you starts to move, setting a rhythm that's both torturously slow and incredibly intimate.

His hands are on your hips, guiding you, urging you deeper. You can feel the warmth of his skin, the way his muscles clench around your fingers. You’ve never been so attuned to another person's body, so in sync with your needs.

You move together, the only sounds in the room your harsh breathing and the wet slap of skin on skin. His moans are music to your ears, and you knows you’re hitting all the right notes. The candles flicker, casting shadows across the walls, painting your bodies in a dance of light and dark.

As you pressed down on his prostate, he arches his back, his grip on your hips tightening. You can feel him getting closer, his muscles tensing around your fingers. You know he's close, so close, and you speed up, eager to watch him fall apart.

And then it happens. His whole body tenses, his eyes squeezed shut, and he cries out, his release spilling over your hand. You continue to move, letting him ride out the waves of pleasure, feeling his ass clench around your fingers.

When the spasms finally stop, you lean down to kiss him, tasting the salt of his sweat on his skin. He's panting, his chest heaving. You pull out, gently, and he relaxes, his eyes opening to meet yours. The look of pure ecstasy on his face is worth every nerve-wracking moment of anticipation.

You lie there, entwined in each other's arms, the candles burning low. The timer in the kitchen has long since stopped beeping, but the food is forgotten. This moment, this new chapter in your relationship, is all that matters.

Seonghwa's hand drifts down to your strap-on, his touch gentle and exploratory. "Your turn,"

YUNHO

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the city as Yunho pulled his motorcycle into the apartment complex's underground parking. He killed the engine and let out a contented sigh, feeling the gentle vibrations of the bike fade away. The smell of exhaust and leather filled the cool evening air, a stark contrast to the scent of blooming flowers that had been thick in the air during his ride. The world was quiet now, save for the distant echo of a closing garage door and the occasional murmur of a passing car.

As he climbed the stairs to the third floor, his thoughts drifted to his girlfriend, Y/N. He knew you’d be waiting for him, probably with dinner already made. You had a simple routine that he cherished. He reached for the door handle, the anticipation of your reunion making his heart race just a little faster.

When he stepped inside, the apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from a couple of flickering candles scattered around the living room. You looked up from your book, your eyes sparkling with excitement. You set the book aside and slid off the couch, walking over to him in a way that made his knees feel a bit weaker than usual. You were wearing one of his old t-shirts, the fabric clinging to your curves in a way that made him swallow hard.

"You're back," you said, your voice a sweet purr that seemed to resonate through his entire body.

He nodded, smiling as he closed the door behind him. "Yeah," he said, his voice a little rougher than he'd intended. "Missed you."

Your smile grew mischievous as you stepped closer, your bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. "I missed you too," you murmured, reaching out to trace a line down his chest. "I've been thinking about something."

Yunho's eyes widened as you took his hand and led him to the bedroom. "What's that?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

You turned to face him, your expression a mix of excitement and nervousness. "I wanna peg you," you said, your cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "I've been readin’ about it, and I think it could be amazing for us."

He blinked, taken aback by your sudden proposal. "Pegging?" he repeated, his mind racing. He'd heard of it before, but you’d never discussed it.

"Yeah," you said, your voice a little shakier now. "You know, I wear a strap-on and we can switch things up a bit."

Yunho felt a thrill of surprise, and a flicker of arousal at the thought of the power dynamic shift. He knew you were adventurous in bed, but this was a new level of intimacy you hadn't yet explored. He took a deep breath, looking into your eyes. "Okay," he said, his voice firm. "If it's something you really want to try, then let's do it."

Your face lit up, and you threw your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. The scent of your perfume filled his nose, making him dizzy with desire. As you broke apart, you reached into your drawer and pulled out a velvet pouch. "I got this," you said, holding up a sleek black strap-on. "It's made of the softest material."

He took it from you, feeling the weight and the smoothness of it in his hand. His heart was racing now, a mix of nerves and excitement. Your eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of hesitation. "We can take it slow," you assured him, your voice gentle. "We'll use lube, and I'll be as careful as I can."

Yunho nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He trusted you completely, and the thought of experiencing something new together was exhilarating. You undressed slowly, each piece of clothing falling to the floor like a silent promise of the intimacy to come. Your body was a vision, your skin glowing in the candlelight, and he felt his arousal growing as he watched you strap the device on.

You took his hand and led him to the bed, your bodies brushing against each other with every step. The anticipation was almost unbearable, his heart hammering in his chest. Your touch was gentle as you laid him down and began to stroke his cock, your other hand reaching for the lube. "I'll have to stretch you out first," you said, your voice low and seductive. "I'll use my fingers."

He nodded, his breath hitching as you squeezed a generous amount of lube onto your fingers. You leaned over him, your breasts brushing against his chest as you took his cock in your hand and began to work the lubricant around his opening. The coolness of the gel was soon replaced by the warmth of your touch, and he felt his body begin to relax, opening up to you. Your eyes never left his as you pushed one finger inside, your gaze filled with a mix of passion and concern.

The sensation was strange at first, a slight burn that quickly gave way to a fullness he'd never felt before. Your eyes searched his, gauging his reaction, and he nodded again, his voice barely a whisper. "Keep going."

With agonizing slowness, you added a second finger, your movements deliberate and precise. He could feel the muscles inside him stretching, accommodating you, and the sensation was both overwhelming and incredibly arousing. His cock grew harder in your hand, and he felt his body responding in ways he'd never expected. You worked him gently, your index finger circling his prostate as you stretched him wider, preparing him for what was to come.

The room was filled with the sound of your breathing, the occasional squeak of the mattress beneath you as you worked your fingers in and out of him. Your eyes never left Yunho's, watching for any sign of discomfort, your own arousal growing with every little gasp he made. You felt a thrill of power, of being the one in control, the one bringing him to new heights of pleasure. His trust in you was palpable, and it made your heart swell with love and desire.

Yunho's body tensed and then relaxed, his breaths growing shorter as you added a third finger. The initial burn had transformed into a deep, intense ache that was strangely pleasurable. He felt vulnerable, but safe in your care. Your eyes, usually so playful, were now focused and serious, and he knew you wouldn't push him further than he could handle. He nodded, his voice barely a murmur, "I'm ready."

You leaned in to kiss him, your tongue teasing his as you pulled your fingers out. You took the strap-on in your hand and positioned it at his entrance, the tip slick with lube. Yunho could feel his heart racing, the anticipation making him dizzy. You pressed it in gently, the soft material sliding in easily thanks to your careful preparation. He tensed for a moment, then sighed as you pushed it in deeper, filling him completely.

You took your time, exploring this new sensation together. You started with slow, shallow thrusts, your eyes never leaving his. You watched his face, studied his reactions, and adjusted your movements accordingly. Yunho's hand found yours, his fingers entwining with yours as you gripped the base of the strap-on. Together, you found a rhythm that made him moan, his hips rising to meet you.

The sensation grew, building like a crescendo inside him. The feeling of being filled by you, of you in control, was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It was intimate and raw, and it was beautiful. His cock was rock-hard, begging for attention, and you didn't disappoint. You reached down, your hand wrapping around him, stroking him in time with your movements.

The world outside the bedroom faded away, replaced by the sound of your skin slapping together and your mingled gasps. Yunho's eyes rolled back in his head as you hit his prostate, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He could feel his orgasm building, a pressure that was both terrifying and incredible. "Y/N," he breathed, his voice ragged.

Your movements grew more urgent, your hips moving faster, and he knew you were close too with hoe your clit was rubbing against the inside of the strap-on. He watched you, the muscles in your arms tensing, your breath coming in pants. You leaned down, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was both tender and fierce, your tongues dancing together as your bodies moved in perfect harmony.

And then it was too much. Yunho's body arched off the bed, his orgasm tearing through him like a lightning bolt. He came hard, his cock pulsing in your hand as you continued to stroke him, your own body trembling with the force of your climax. You stayed like that for a moment, breathless and connected, before collapsing into a heap of tangled limbs and sated sighs.

The candles continued to flicker, casting shadows across the room, but you were lost in your own little world. You pulled the strap-on off, your body slick with sweat, and curled up next to him. "How was it?" you whispered, your voice filled with concern and excitement.

Yunho turned to you, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "Amazing," he murmured, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead. "I can't believe we've never done that before."

You grinned, your eyes sparkling. "There's so much more we can explore," you said, your voice filled with promise. "But for now, let's just bask in this."

And so you did, your bodies entwined, hearts racing, as you reveled in the afterglow of your shared experience. The air was thick with the scent of sex and candle wax, a testament to the uncharted territory you’d just explored together.

YEOSANG

"What's up with you and your weird fantasies?" you tossed your head back, letting out a peal of laughter.

Yeosang, caught off guard by your reaction, felt his cheeks flush. "It's not weird," he protested, his voice a tad defensive. "It's just something I've been thinking about."

You leaned forward, your eyes dancing with curiosity. "Okay, fine," you said, your smile teasing. "Tell me more."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "You know how we've been exploring different things in bed?" He paused, waiting for your nod. "Well, I read somewhere that pegging can be really intense for both parties. It's about trust and pushing boundaries, you know?"

Your expression grew thoughtful as you traced a finger along the rim of your wine glass. "I guess I can see that," you murmured, your gaze drifting off to the distant horizon. "But isn't it a bit... unconventional?"

"That's kind of the point," he replied, leaning in closer. "It's about trying new things together, growing closer."

The silence between you both stretched out, filled with unspoken questions and anticipation. Yeosang could feel the warmth of your skin and the sweet scent of your perfume, a delicate blend of vanilla and jasmine that always made his head spin. He waited for your response, his stomach in knots.

Finally, you took a sip of your wine, the red liquid leaving a trail of shimmer on your upper lip. "Alright," you said, your voice casual. “Cool. I’m pretty sure I bought a strap-on.”

Yeosang’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected you to be so nonchalant about the whole thing. He felt his heart racing even faster, his mind racing with thoughts of what this could mean for your relationship.

"Where?" he managed to croak out, his voice thick with anticipation.

"In my drawer," you said, with a smirk. "I’ve had it for a while. You know, for when the mood strikes."

The revelation hit him like a ton of bricks. He had never thought you’d be so open to the idea, let alone already have the equipment. "Really?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

You nodded, your smirk growing into a full-blown smile. "Why not?" you said, reaching out to place a hand on his thigh. "I've always liked the idea of switching things up. It keeps things fresh, you know?"

Your touch sent a jolt of excitement through him. He had never felt more alive, more connected to you than he did at that moment. He took a sip of his own wine, trying to calm his nerves. "I just didn't know you were into that kind of thing," he admitted.

"Well, now you do," you said, your voice a purr. "And it's your lucky night, because I'm feeling particularly adventurous.”

The both of you finished your wine in silence, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air. Yeosang could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body already reacting to the thought of what was to come. The candles flickered, casting shadows across the room that danced in time with your racing thoughts.

As you made your way to the bedroom, your hand slid into his, your grip firm and reassuring. You led him to the bed, where you pulled open the drawer and revealed the strap-on. It was sleek and black, with a curved shaft that gleamed in the soft light. Yeosang felt his stomach flip at the sight of it.

With a gentle touch, you began to undo his pants, your eyes locked onto his. He could see the excitement in you, the same thrill that he felt coursing through his veins. His shirt followed, and soon he was standing before you in just his boxers, his body trembling slightly.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your legs crossed. You reached out and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down slowly. His erection sprang free, bobbing in the cool air. You took it in your hand, stroking it gently as you studied him. "You're so beautiful," you murmured, your voice low and sultry.

Yeosang felt a rush of love for you in that moment. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet so desired. You leaned in and kissed him, your tongue probing his mouth as your hand continued to work him. He could feel himself growing harder, his breath coming in short gasps.

When you broke the kiss, you slid your fingers down to his opening, gently pushing inside. He gasped, his eyes flying open. The sensation was new, a mix of pleasure and pressure that made him quiver. You moved your hand in a slow, steady rhythm, working him open as he grew more and more aroused.

Finally, you pulled away, your fingers glistening with lubricant. You stood up and put on the strap-on, adjusting it until it was snug. The sight of you, tall and confident, wearing the harness, was almost too much to bear. Yeosang couldn't help but stare, his body responding eagerly to the sight.

"Ready?" you asked, a wicked smile playing on your lips.

He nodded, unable to find his voice. You climbed onto the bed, straddling him. He could feel the head of the dildo pressing against him, the anticipation making him dizzy. You leaned down and kissed him again, your tongue dancing with his as you began to push inside.

The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before. There was pain, yes, but it was melded with a deep, intense pleasure that took his breath away. He clung to you, his nails digging into your back as you pushed deeper, your hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm that made him moan.

You took your time, letting him adjust to the feeling. You whispered sweet nothings into his ear, your breath hot against his skin. Yeosang could feel your love, your desire for him, in every stroke. It was as if you were claiming him in a way that no one ever had before.

As the initial shock subsided, Yeosang began to move with you, pushing back against you, meeting your thrusts with his own. The pain had morphed into something else, something primal and addictive. He never wanted it to end.

Your bodies moved together, a dance of love and lust that seemed to go on forever. Your hands roamed his body, your nails scraping against his skin, leaving a trail of fire wherever you went. Yeosang could feel his orgasm building, a pressure that grew with every thrust.

"H-Harder," he mumbled, his voice thick with pleasure. "P-Please, baby, harder."

You smile grew as you complied, your hips moving faster, more forcefully. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, a symphony of passion that seemed to resonate in his very soul. Yeosang's eyes rolled back in his head as he lost himself in the sensation. He had never felt so alive, so wanted.

Whimpers and gasps escaped his lips as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge. He could feel every inch of you, the velvety softness of the dildo, the firmness of your thighs against his, the warmth of your breath on his neck. It was too much, and yet not enough.

"Oh god," he moaned, his hips bucking wildly. "It feels s-so good."

You leaned down, your breasts pressing against his chest, your breath hot in his ear. "You like it?" you whispered, your voice a seductive purr.

"Y-Yes," he whined, his voice high and needy. "I-I love it."

The words seemed to spur you on, your movements growing more erratic, more demanding. Yeosang could feel the tension coiling in his stomach, tightening like a spring ready to snap. He clutched at you, his nails digging into your flesh as he tried to hold on, to savor every moment of this newfound ecstasy.

And then it washed over him, a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. He cried out, his body arching off the bed as he came, spilling his release between you. You didn't stop, your movements growing more frantic as you chased your own climax.

When you finally reached it, you collapsed on top of him, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You lay there, panting and sweaty, your hearts racing in time with one another's. Yeosang felt a sense of euphoria that was almost unbearable, his body still pulsing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

As you lay there, tangled in the sheets, you propped yourself up on one elbow, looking down at him with a glow in your eyes. "I knew you'd like it," you said, your voice filled with satisfaction.

He couldn't help but laugh, the sound muffled by the pillow beneath his head. "How could I not?" he replied, his voice still shaky. "It was... amazing."

You shared a smile, one that was filled with a newfound understanding, a deeper connection that transcended words. It was in that moment that Yeosang knew your relationship had reached a new level, one that was built on trust, love, and a willingness to explore the depths of your desires together.

And as you both lay there, your bodies still joined, the candles flickering out one by one, you knew that this was just the beginning of your journey into the uncharted territories of pleasure. The end of the night had brought you both closer than ever before, and the promise of a thousand more adventures lay just beyond the horizon of your passion-filled embrace.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #sub ateez #sub!ateez #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez hard hours #ateez fic #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang

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thebiggerbear · 5 months ago

Text

Thankful

Summary: It's Father's Day again and you have an extra special present for Ben this time around.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Happy Father's Day to those who celebrate! I think this was just my excuse to spend some more time with these two. 🤷‍♀️ I definitely took inspiration from a particular Jensen Instagram video for one of the scenes. 😉

All unbeta'd.

Prequel 1 | Prequel 2

Warnings: smut-ish (18+ - minors DNI); explicit dirty talk; breeding kink; language; a little fluff; Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy; Ben is one kinky motherfucker (or is it me? 🤔 spoiler: it's me)

Word Count: 7135

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

@muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007

@onlyangel-444

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

Hearing giggling and running around in the other room, you couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Ellie, Lilli,” you called. “Keep it down, please. Daddy’s still sleeping.” The girls giggled again which made you shake your head as you focused on plating the scrambled eggs you had just made.

Warm arms suddenly snaked around your waist and gently pulled you back into a solid chest, making you gasp quietly. “Daddy’s already awake,” a deep voice grumbled into your ear before lips were pressed to your skin underneath. You shouldn’t be surprised that you never heard him coming. Damn Supe skills.

You set the pan down onto the stove and rested your head back against Ben’s shoulder, hugging his arms and closing your eyes. You let out a sigh of contentment as you enjoyed the kisses he was placing to the side of your neck and your smile grew. “Mmm, how’d you sleep, baby?”

“You know,” he murmured against your jawline, making you laugh.

You turned in his arms and wrapped yours around his neck, seeing the dirty smirk on his face. “Can’t say I’m sorry about that.” You lifted up on your toes and kissed him with everything you had. You weren’t the least bit surprised when his hands began wandering with one ending up taking residence on your ass and the other at the back of your neck to push you further into him. You couldn’t help but moan as his tongue mercilessly plundered your mouth, bringing back memories of him kissing you this deeply last night after he’d brought you to orgasm with his fingers alone for the first round and you just had to have a taste. The thought of that, of everything his body had done to yours following that kiss, had you suddenly aching with want and need — always need. You didn’t think you would ever get enough of this man.

His hand had just lowered from your neck to grab hold of your breast when you were suddenly interrupted.

“Daddy!” Your daughters yelled excitedly in chorus.

You both immediately broke away from each other, gasping for air. “Shit,” Ben muttered under his breath as he quickly moved his hands to more respectable areas on your body. You shot him a look and he gave you a half-hearted shrug. While he was better about the language these days, that didn’t mean he still didn’t let certain words fly every now and then which your girls would suddenly pick up and make their favorite word of the day.

Ben seemed more concerned with something else right then, though, and hurriedly moved you in front of him before turning to face a beaming Ellie and Lilli. You could feel something beginning to poke you in the back and you had to bite your lip to keep from snickering. “Hey, how are my princesses this morning?”

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Ellie yelled.

Not to be outdone, Lillian (or Lilli as you all usually called her) yelled even louder. “Happy Fahdder’s Day!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at your youngest daughter. She was only three but she definitely took after her father in the competition department.

“Awww thank you.” Completely forgetting his predicament, Ben crouched down and held his arms out, the girls running willingly into them. You smiled as you watched them kiss his cheeks and then squeal in laughter as he tickled them. This right here was your family and you couldn’t be more grateful. Who would have imagined when you had sought out Soldier Boy for protection once upon a time that it would lead to this? That he would one day become the most important man alive to you? That he would become the father of your children? Not you, that was for sure, but you couldn’t be happier with how things had turned out.

When Ben let up on the tickling, Ellie informed him breathlessly, “Daddy, we got you a present.”

“You did? You know I love presents.” He smirked up at you, full implication in his eyes, and you rolled yours. Yes, Ben loved getting presents. Christmas was a thing and you made sure to go all out for his birthday every year. You always gently teased him that he was high maintenance but you knew it wasn’t really about anything materialistic.

He had gone overboard on Ellie’s first couple of birthdays and Christmases and it had worried you because you didn’t want her getting spoiled. You didn’t want her getting the wrong idea on what those days should be about. They should be fun and full of joy, yes, but twenty two presents for a two year old? Really? She couldn’t even count yet how many boxes there were. What would happen when she could? Would she start keeping track, always expecting more with each year? Would you be raising a version of Dudley Dursley then?

After a pretty hefty argument the night of Ellie’s third birthday party while you were both cleaning up, you finally got it out of him why he went overkill on the gifts. Not only did he enjoy seeing her face light up when she opened up one of the boxes but he never had that growing up. Even though his family was well off, he received one single gift a year for Christmas and it was always something that was appropriate for his age but not a toy. For example, when he was ten, he received a tie. The same went for his birthdays. Though his mother always did something special for him on the side, his father couldn’t be bothered. The tough son of a bitch had even had the nerve to tell Ben that Santa Claus wasn’t real after he heard his son answering his mother on what he wanted from the man in the red suit that year. Then he had the nerve to insinuate that Ben was stupidly naive for believing such a “silly little story”. Ben was five.

Sometimes you wished you could bring his old man back and kill him again when Ben eventually disclosed things to you like this. Sometimes you also wished you could go back and shake his mother by the shoulders and ask her what she had been thinking by staying with a man who treated her and their son so poorly. Now being a mother yourself, as much as you loved Ben (and you loved him deeply), if he ever started treating your children or you in a similar manner or worse, you’d do whatever it took to get all of you away from him. You often had to remind yourself that it was another time when these things occurred and your husband hadn’t been born only four decades ago though he appeared as if he had been. You kept your thoughts to yourself, of course; you knew how much Ben had loved his mom. He had named your first daughter for her after all.

When he was done speaking, he still wouldn’t meet your eyes (something that usually happened whenever he shared his past with you like this) and you could see he was about to change the subject or make light of it with a badly timed joke. Anything to keep him from feeling vulnerable for too long or appearing weak in your eyes as he had once put it (and you’d done your best to kiss that silly notion right out of his head though it hadn’t worked). So instead, you immediately kneeled in front of him and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“Baby,” you gently said. “I get why it matters to you, I do, but we just need to make sure as her parents that we do the right thing, raise her the right way. So, how about we cut the amount of gifts you get for her in half? At least for now. Just until Ellie is able to count that high. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to raise Kidzilla. Besides, Operation Terrible Twos was more than enough, don’t you think?” You nearly shuddered at the memory. You loved your daughter with everything you had, but whoa, that had definitely been a challenging time for all three of you.

You smiled when he chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve got a point. Almost lost the war on that one.”

“What’s this? Soldier Boy admitting he was almost defeated in battle? By a two-year-old?” You teased.

“Hey,” He picked you up and set you down on his lap, making you straddle him. “You almost didn’t make it through that battle, either.”

This time you did shudder. “But I did. We both did.” You nuzzled him and whispered, “Ben, I’m proud of you. I don’t think I tell you that enough, but I am. You’ve been through a lot, you’ve made mistakes, but you’ve come out the other side and you’ve made major strides. I know you said you would do things better than your father back when I first got pregnant, but you really do. Every single day and I am so beyond proud of you. Ellie and I are very lucky to have you, baby.” You placed a kiss on his nose; you had meant every word.

His green eyes stared into yours and for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t immediately read him. You saw the love and adoration you always saw whenever he looked at you or Ellie but this time, it took you a minute to determine that what you were seeing was something similar to awe or reverence. And that shocked the hell out of you.

But you didn’t have too much time to think about it because right then he leaned in and kissed you, ripping your clothes from you with one swift tug, and stood up, turning to carry you to the bedroom and ignoring your irritated huf into his mouth from yet another outfit you would need to replace. It was obvious that he had decided the cleanup from the party would have to wait until the morning and you weren’t exactly complaining.

You had been a little more gentle with him that night and provided whatever comfort and silent reassurance you could. Your touches were tender, soothing, and loving. You were convinced that Lilli had been conceived that evening; she had arrived nine months later, almost to the day.

The same daughter that now had her hands all over her father’s face, trying to smush it in different directions for some reason. You watched as Ben patiently (and quietly) let her do what she wanted and this time, you were the one staring in awe. Ellie then asserted herself and hugged Ben closely, interrupting whatever playing around Lilli had been doing, which caused your youngest daughter to immediately yell out the demand, “Kiss, Daddy!”

“Okay. Kisses for my princess,” he laughed, and kissed her head before turning and kissing a frowning Ellie’s. “And kisses for my other princess.” Ellie’s frown immediately turned upside down and she hugged her father again. It was too cute and you swore it made your heart grow three sizes in a matter of seconds. Whenever you thought back to how you almost hadn’t escaped Vought’s clutches when a price had been put on your head, rather than let it paralyze you with dread as it had back when Ellie was born, you now let the gratitude wash over you. If they hadn’t, you would have never met Ben and you wouldn’t have the family you did now. You weren’t sure if there was a higher power up there watching over all of you or not but regardless, you were thankful all the same.

You may have also snuck a quick picture of the scene on your phone before quietly clearing your throat. “Alright, how about you guys go get your present ready in the living room and give me a minute to talk to Daddy?”

“Okay, Mommy.” Ellie eagerly nodded and let her father go, hurrying out of the room. Lilli did the same, determined to get to the present first. You shook your head, smirking as you watched. That competitive drive was going to be a problem when they got older if you didn’t find some way to nip it in the bud and soon. But for now, it was harmless and damn cute to boot.

Ben took a seat at the breakfast counter and gave you a nod of thanks, sipping the coffee you had just placed in front of him. “So what did you need to talk to me about without the girls around?” He waggled his eyebrows in suggestion.

You stood before him, leaning against the counter and gracing him with a knowing smile. “I have a gift for you, too.”

A salacious grin formed on his handsome face. “Oh, I know you do.”

“Nope, not that. That comes later, if you’re good.”

He leaned forward in his seat. “Actually, you’ll be coming later, if you’re good,” he promised in that deep tone he knew did things to you. Sure enough, you could feel that all-too familiar need begin to throb through you once again and you ruined your panties for the second time that morning. And the bastard knew it, too, because his nostrils momentarily flared and his grin immediately grew. He moved a little closer, like a panther closing in for the kill, and murmured, “I can still smell us. You’re leaking a little of me out of you right now, aren't you?”

His words had your body involuntarily clenching down on nothing as you tightly held onto the counter in front of you. If you had some of Ben’s strength, you were convinced your fingers would have dug into the marble. You pushed out a tiny breath and your body then relaxed, immediately releasing more wetness into your underwear.

“Ben,” you choked out in a whisper. “Oh my…God.” You quietly gasped as another gush escaped you, fully soaking you.

His nostrils flared again and in an instant he was by your side. “Fuck,” he growled into your ear when his hand skirted past your sundress and into your panties to confirm that he was right. “I hope this is my present. You know what? Fuck that, I’m going to give us both a present. I’m going to fill you back up and you better not let me leak out this time, dollface, or I might just take it as a personal challenge to our record. Then we’ll be pushing double digits no matter how much you might want to tap out.” Ho-ly fuck, double digits? Was he crazy? You’d have to wear a damn diaper for the next two days not to mention how sore you would be. But you had to admit, the thought was an extremely hot one for a second.

One hand of his was gently urging you down onto the counter while the other was quickly undoing the drawstring on his sweatpants, the hem of your dress lifted above your ass and your panties ripped off of you. One more second and he would be deep inside you, rutting into you fast and hard, and making you cry out as he sped you towards your release.

You still had enough presence of mind to remember that you had two little ones in the other room waiting on you and now was definitely not the time for you and Ben to get into an all-morning fuckfest. As much as it pained you to do, your brain cleared some of the lust fogging it up and you used your hand to push back at his waist. He immediately froze, his hand wrapped around his dick, and looked up at you.

“Not right now,” you nearly squeaked out, making you clear your throat. “The girls are waiting on us.”

He glanced in the direction of the living room, back at you, your ass, his dick, you again, and then back to the living room. “Fuck,” he hissed, slipping himself back into his sweatpants, tying the drawstring and adjusting himself as much as he could. “Okay. You’re right. I lost my head for a second but you’re right. I’m glad we didn’t…” He didn’t finish the thought and he didn’t need to. You didn’t want to think about what your girls might have walked in on if you hadn’t stopped him. How would you ever be able to explain that one to your six-year-old and three-year-old? That Daddy and Mommy were just playing a new game? Or he’d found a new spot to tickle you in? Tickling you…inside… Fuck. No, you weren’t going to think about that last part.

Ben gently cleaned you up with your torn panties, forcing you to bury your teeth into your lip to keep a moan at bay. He then tossed them into the trash and lowered the hem of your dress down, and carefully picked you up and placed you back on your feet, turning you to face him. He appeared a little troubled and you knew he was beating himself up much like he had back when Ellie had walked in on you when she was three.

You were pregnant and you were horny; Ben…Ben was always horny. He had you on your bed, near the edge (in more ways than one), and he stood over you, grunting with each slow, hard thrust into you. He controlled himself every time you two had sex so he didn’t hurt you, especially when you were pregnant, but you also liked a little roughness and he liked seeing you take what he gave you. You loved watching the muscles underneath his skin move as he fucked you like this (as you repeatedly told him, he had a body that was built to fuck to which he cockily told you he already knew that and proceeded to go about proving his point) and he loved keeping his eyes on yours with neither one of you looking away. The exchange would sometimes be so intense as he worked you both up to that edge that not a word was said, not a sound was made other than his grunts and echoes of the slams of his hips against your thighs and ass, and usually your orgasm would take you by complete surprise when it hit.

And it just so happened that this time around, your daughter had woken from her nap earlier than expected and climbed out of her bed to come find you. Because you and Ben were in the zone, you hadn’t heard your bedroom door open a little wider. Even your husband’s Supe hearing had missed it, his intense focus on you and what he was doing to your body. He had your legs up over his shoulder and he grunted particularly loudly on one rough shove into you and you couldn’t help but let out a cry. He smirked and began to pick up the pace, slamming into you faster, knowing you were close. The bed was creaking so loudly it sounded as if it were about to break. It wouldn’t have been the first time. You gripped onto the sheets and held on, biting so hard into your lip you could taste blood. Your daughter was still sleeping and you couldn’t afford to yell out a litany of expletives as the pleasure continued to swell inside your body. You were going to have to hold a hand over your mouth when you came. When suddenly, both you and Ben heard a crying sound that neither of you made.

You both turned to see your daughter standing there, tears streaming down her young face and looking frightened. “Mama,” she sobbed. You had never moved so fast in your life, immediately pushing Ben away and grabbing his t-shirt off the floor and throwing it on. Ben muttered a curse and quickly covered his lower half with the blanket that had been tossed aside. You had hurried over to Ellie who was a hiccuping, sobbing mess and held out her arms to you. You picked her right up and began speaking to her in soothing tunes, telling her everything was alright. You briefly glanced back at Ben before leaving the room, seeing the same disturbed expression on his face that you were seeing now. After that incident, he hadn’t touched you for at least a week and he blamed himself for not hearing her little feet pattering down the hall to your room. No matter how you tried to reassure him that it was a blameless accident and Ellie would be fine, telling him you doubted she would remember anything since she didn’t understand what she had seen, he still kept his hands to himself for a while. And it took a few days for him to be able to look your daughter in the face again.

It also took him a little while after that to relax back into sex with you and be fully present, not half listening for any sounds of your daughter waking up at night and wandering down the hall or him insisting that your body be covered in some way in case he needed to quickly move away from you. You understood his concern, his guilt, his shame, his mortification even, so you were patient with him and did everything he asked to help him feel more comfortable. Once it became apparent that your daughter wasn’t going to wake up in the middle of the night or if she had a nightmare he would hear her cries first, he eventually ripped your nightie off of you and went to town.

“I fucking missed these,” he growled, making you laugh, before sucking a nipple into his mouth.

So, remembering all of that, you decided to lighten things up. “I’m going to need that one in writing.”

He arched a questioning brow down at you.

“I’m right? I don’t think you’ve ever said that. I want it in writing.”

Ben smirked and tenderly rubbed his nose along yours, curling an arm around your waist to hold you to him. Crisis averted. “Good luck getting it because it’s never happening.”

“Oh, it will. Especially when I show you the present I have for you.”

He placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “That really wasn’t my present?” He murmured, sounding disappointed.

You couldn’t help but smile. “No, that’s your later present. But this,” You reached behind you and grabbed something you had hidden under a newspaper. Yes, Ben still insisted on reading actual papers, and yes, you actually paid a few hundred dollars a year for the subscription. Well, the CIA did to be more precise but you still thought it was ridiculous. Though right now, you couldn’t care less; you were focused on Ben and this private moment between you. “This is your present from me.”

You urged him to open his hand and you placed the little device into it. His eyes widened when he saw what it was and glanced up at you to be sure.

You nodded, smiling. “Happy Father’s Day, baby.”

He tossed the positive pregnancy test onto the counter and picked you up, making you squeal as he hugged you tightly to him. You had just managed to wrap your legs around his waist when he began kissing you nonstop, smiling as you laughed in between kisses. Eventually, you both needed air. “How long?” He panted.

“Not sure. A few weeks? I have to call the doctor tomorrow to make an appointment.”

His lips covered yours once again. “Christ on a cross, we’re having another one.” He froze then and pulled back, staring at you. “Christ on a cross, we’re having another one,” he repeated, this time his tone sounding a little more daunted.

You playfully slapped at his shoulder. “Yes, we are. Don’t act like this is a surprise to you, buddy. This is what you wanted. We’ve been trying to knock me up for the past two months and we know just how potent your sperm can be.” Once Lilli had turned three, you agreed to start trying for another baby and Ben held you to it. If he could get five kids out of you, he would. Considering you were the one carrying all said kids and actually pushing them out of you, you compromised to three, four at the most. He hadn’t liked that of course, but you told him after your possible fourth kid (more like your third), if he wanted to go shack up with another woman and get her to carry more of his kids, he’d be welcome to it. He’d scowled at you but pulled you close, making you sit in his lap with a blanket covering you both as you watched Band of Brothers on Netflix.

“Well, this is boring as shit. Thank Christ they sent me over when they did, where the real fighting was,” he muttered in your ear a couple of minutes later, placing his drink on the side table. You were about to correct his skewed perception of the popular TV series when he lifted you up a little, yanked your yoga pants down, and urged you to sit back down on him (his fly now miraculously open). You did and the feeling made your eyes roll back into your head, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. “Fuck,” he groaned into your neck. “As if I would ever leave this pussy. It’s mine, it will always be mine, and I belong right here.” He thrust his lips a little for each word and you gasped, reaching back to hold onto him. “You got that?” He growled. You eagerly nodded and attempted to turn your head to kiss him but he moved away. “Uh uh. You’re going to sit there, full of me, and you’re going to think about what you said.”

“About the kids?” You gasped when his hips slightly bucked into you at the word. “I’m not backing down on that.” It had been hard enough to get him to agree to a three year spacing in between said kids. If he could have his way, he’d have you barefoot and pregnant every chance he could. You had to explain to him how that wasn’t good for the female body and how doctors were now recommending spacing out pregnancies to give women time to recover. He hadn’t liked it but he had begrudgingly agreed, not wanting to do anything that might cause you harm, though he still thought sometimes that the doctors were full of shit. “Population control. That’s all it is. Guaranteed.” You had simply rolled your eyes at that one and took the win.

“No. The other thing you said,” he murmured, glaring at you before taking a sip of his drink.

“About finding someone else to knock up to get your other fifteen kids? I wasn’t kidding.”

The scowl deepened and he bucked his hips a little harder, making you gasp again. You laid your head back on his shoulder and attempted to kiss him once more. He leaned in as if he was going to give in but then quickly turned back to the TV. “Like I said, you’re going to sit here and think about that for a while.” A few minutes of tense silence later, he finally broke it. “You’re the only one I want to knock up with my kids — three, five, ten — doesn’t fucking matter. I told you I’d stick around the first time and I meant it.” His jaw tightened. “I’m not that guy anymore.”

You suddenly realized just how callous your words had been however unintentional. At face value, you had half been kidding, half been serious. You didn’t really want Ben to go off and have another family with someone else, for various reasons. You always got an unpleasant gut clench anytime you noticed Ben checking out another woman when you were out and about, young or old. He’d give you a smirk and say “Just looking in the store window, doll. I’m not planning on going in and buying anything.” To which you would shoot him your most lethal glare and not allow him to touch you that night. Eventually, he stopped looking — or at least didn’t make it so obvious — and those arguments soon dissipated into the past. Now, your words had not only unintentionally brought it all back up but you had also unintentionally reminded him about a part of his past that he didn’t feel represented who he was anymore. Sure, he’d told you about the fuckboi phase in his life, sometimes in excruciating and unwanted detail, but he had also told you that once he settled down with you and started building a family, he was eager to leave those days behind him. Much like the moniker Soldier Boy. He didn’t mind it when you mentioned it in jest like you had earlier, but other than that, he didn’t like you using it period. Well, not until you introduced one very sexy night of roleplay where you were the damsel in distress turned thankful rescued party who was willing to do anything to show her gratitude and he was the superhero doing the rescuing and benefitting from that gratitude. Thankfully, Elena and Maggie had agreed to watch the girls that one weekend because it certainly had been loud and rough and dirty. But other than joking or sex, you were asked not to call him by that name, especially in your girls’ hearing. Not until he deemed them ready to hear about his golden superhero days.

And now, he was mad at you. You let out a quiet sigh and then performed an around-the-world spin that would have made your old horseback riding coach proud. Well, maybe not in this situation. You grabbed Ben’s chin and forced him to look up at you. “I know you’re not,” you assured him. “I just meant I can’t have a dozen kids, Ben. I want to give you the family you want, that we both want. I do, but we have to be realistic here. That’s all I meant,” you finished in a whisper, pecking his lips. “I don’t ever want you with anyone else. You said this is yours?” You ground into him to make your point, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Well, this,” You clenched down tightly on him, making his breath hitch and his hands fly to your hips. “This is mine. You got that?” You finished in a growl.

His eyes darkened considerably and you knew there was no way now that you were making it through the episode you had been plodding through earlier; you knew what was coming next. That look said everything.

Sure enough, “Yeah, I fucking do,” rumbled out of his chest and in the next second you were on your back on the couch with him pounding away at you. Things had gotten a little…primal that night, to the point where he even told you “If you were a Supe, this house would no longer be fucking standing, I’d make sure of it”, but you had given him your reassurance, he was no longer mad at you, and you were back on the three kid goal with a possible fourth.

So, this was now your third pregnancy. You knew his heart was set on a boy; for his sake, you hoped this one would be the one he wanted so badly. While you had said you might be open to a fourth kid down the line, you had to wait to see how this pregnancy went first. The one with Ellie had been pretty much what was expected for a first pregnancy. Lilli’s, though, it had been a rough first trimester but thankfully it began to ease up near the middle of the second trimester and then was all smooth sailing from there. But the morning sickness had been horrible, almost violent even. There were many days you were down for the count where Ben had to pick up the slack with Ellie and you’d even had to call in Elena and Maggie as reinforcements, much to Ben and Maggie’s chagrin. So, needless to say, you wanted to see how this pregnancy, labor, and delivery went first and how juggling three kids under the age of ten between you and Ben would go.

“I know,” he groaned, bringing you back to the present, and dropped his head down to your shoulder. “Just…three kids.”

“And you wanted ten,” you laughed.

He lifted his head and smirked right at you. “Still do. But I know we agreed to four—”

“Three, with a possible fourth,” you corrected.

“Four—”

“Ben, I swear…”

He chuckled and cupped your cheek, kissing you. “I’m just happy, sweetheart.” As if that was a valid explanation for him continuing to troll you on this topic.”Guess we don’t need to worry about you leaking me after all.”

“Oh no, we still need to worry.” You quickly glanced down underneath you, hoping nothing had dripped out onto your kitchen floor. Not to mention, Ben might need to change his pants now. “We actually need to change really fast before we go in to see the girls because you need new pants and I am not walking around everywhere like this, making a mess.”

Ben turned with you in his arms and headed towards the hall. “Mmm, I like it when you make a mess. All fucking over me.”

Your cheeks heated and you blew out a harsh breath, blowing a wayward strand of hair out of your face. “Ben,” you hissed. “You’re not helping.”

He laughed and made a right turn into your bedroom, carefully depositing you on your feet. His eyes darkened as he watched you slip a fresh pair of panties on underneath your dress. You turned to find he had already changed and naturally, he was already tenting them. “Oh my God, Ben, you have got to get that under control. You can’t go out and see the girls like that. Jesus.”

“You could help with this, you know.” He pointed to his crotch. “It’d be faster.”

You shot him a glare. “Seriously? Didn’t we just go through this? Besides, I’d tell you to think of your grandmother in the shower, but knowing you…”

He made his way over to you, a roguish smile on his face. “I’m kidding, doll. Relax.” He slapped your ass, making you squeak in surprise, and grasped it tight in his palm. “I fucked another baby into you,” he boasted proudly. “I got to be honest, right now I don’t know whether I want to fuck you some more or I want to hold you.”

You arched a brow up at him. “Hold me?”

“I don’t want to take my fucking hands off of you,” he elaborated, a hand sneaking down to your still flat stomach, rubbing gently, and the other gripping your chin and staring into your eyes. “This is the best fucking Father’s Day gift you could have ever given me, doll. Thank you.”

You could see that he meant it. You knew he would be happy. You could also see the familiar fire burning in his eyes that you’d seen the other two times you had been pregnant. Nothing put him in a perpetual state of constant arousal than knowing he had been successful in knocking you up. The guy had a serious breeding kink but truthfully, so did you. Which had worked in both your favor twice now (Ellie hadn’t been planned, not officially anyway). You knew exactly what he was talking about with the hands thing, though, because you usually wanted your hands on him some way a lot of the time and even more so when you were pregnant. Which is why the next ten to twelve hours were going to be beyond difficult, especially if Ben was intent on teasing the crap out of you. But you had no choice but to get through it.

“You’re welcome, baby.” You quickly kissed him and then stepped away, taking his hand in yours and intertwining your fingers. He went to speak when you held your free hand over his lips. “Don’t. Elena and Maggie are visiting Elena’s father today. It’s a two hour drive, each way. We’re not calling them.”

His shoulders slumped slightly and he frowned in disappointment.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout staring back at you. “We can do this. Tonight, you’ll have me all to yourself and as a Father’s Day bonus, I will call Elena tomorrow and see when she’s free.” You shot him a wink and just as you’d hoped, the dirty smirk was back on Ben’s face.

“Hope she’s free for the next two days because you won’t be,” he growled and playfully slapped your ass again.

“Uh huh. We’ll see. Now, seriously, we’ve got two other kids waiting for us and they’re excited to give you their gift. What do you say we go in there and see what they made you?”

He stopped short. “They made me something?”

“Yep,” you confirmed, leading him out of the bedroom. “They worked really hard on it, too.”

“It’s not going to be some fucking cheap shit from Ellie’s school, is it? Something I’ll have to hang on the fridge and pretend to like every time she’s in the room?”

You dropped his hand and swatted his arm. “Ben! Don’t be such an asshole,” you hissed. “Your daughter loves you and you should be honored if she did.”

“I know she does but that fucking hippie school she’s in doesn’t.”

“It’s a perfectly good— No, you know what? I’m not doing this with you again.”

Ben slowed half a step and his eyes immediately glued to your ass. “Good because I’d rather be doing something else with you again, doll. You have no idea how fucking hard I want to ride you right now. Love that ass.”

You ignored him and his chuckle when you hurried your steps before the predictable slap could happen and silently flipped him off before entering the living room. The girls glanced up, their young faces brightening when they saw Ben appear behind you.

Ellie and Lilli both held up a sign they had made touting Ben as the Best Daddy Ever. “Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!”

“Best Daddy!” Lilli yelled.

And just like that, Daddy Ben was back, grinning wide and gathering his girls up in his arms when they ran over to him to give him a hug. You watched with a smile as Ellie read something she had written in class with her teacher’s help about her daddy being her hero. You pretended you didn’t see Ben’s eyes glistening for a brief moment. You held a hand over your mouth to contain your laughter when Lilli handed him a drawing she made him that had lines and all sorts of shapes in different color markers. He barely kept his expression in check.

“Uh, what’s this, Princess?”

“Daddy!” Lilli pointed to the picture and beamed.

Ben’s eyes briefly snapped to yours and you crossed your arms, arching your brows expectantly.

“I love it, Princess,” Ben told Lilli. “I can’t wait to hang it up on the fridge. But you know what I love even more than this drawing?”

“What?”

“You,” he growled before picking her up and covering her face in kisses, making her giggle. Ellie rushed over and threw herself on his back, hanging from his neck. He carried them over to the couch and started tickling them. Their giggles were loud and their joy apparent, and Ben’s laughter was deep as they attempted to tickle him back and smother him with their own kisses and hugs. At one point, he managed to glance over at you and you gave him a warm smile before turning to leave.

“I’m going to finish up breakfast for Daddy. Do you girls want pancakes or waffles?”

“Both!” Ben and Ellie answered simultaneously, making you laugh and the girls giggle again. You quickly looked back over your shoulder and it didn’t surprise you in the least to find Ben’s eyes trailing after you or when he said a moment later, “Girls, I think we should go keep an eye on Mommy. You know she can’t be trusted near any open flames. What do you say?”

“Yeah!”

“Mommy!”

You rolled your eyes at his open flames comment but your smile also grew; you knew what he was up to. Sure enough, after you had set Ellie and Lilli up with easy tasks and you were mixing the pancake batter, arms wrapped around you from behind and warm hands rested on your stomach. Ben buried his face into your neck, your skin being softly tickled by his beard. You reached a hand up to run your fingers through his hair and he let out a small sigh, hugging you even tighter.

Eventually, you had to move away to wash your hands and check on the girls, but he went with you. He only broke away to flip the pancakes for you and handle the waffle iron so you wouldn’t have to. When you were pregnant with Ellie, that kind of overprotectiveness used to drive you up a wall but by this pregnancy, you were used to it. It made him feel better and it helped you out; that was fine by you.

When you all sat down at the table to eat, he pulled you into his lap, ignoring your glare, and dug in. While you all discussed what to do for the rest of the day, you felt Ben’s hand back on your stomach, his fingers gently caressing the area. When he said something that made the girls laugh, you smiled. This was your family, right here: the two beautiful little girls who watched their father with such adoration as he talked, the man who was currently rubbing your stomach and winking over at you with that smirk, and the little one inside you who you all would meet in the next year. As you took it all in, you couldn’t be more thankful for breaking out of the Vought fold and seeking out its spurned OG superhero when you did. You wouldn’t be sitting here right now if you hadn’t; none of you would be. Your hand gently covered Ben’s and it prompted him to look over at you. You leaned down to place your forehead against his, closing your eyes with your smile in place as you felt him place a kiss on your nose. More than thankful.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#thebiggerbear writes #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #thankful #soldier boy smut

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rainylana · 7 months ago

Text

“I’m not always bad.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie finds you crying. why does he care?

warnings: bully eddie, bad boy, awkward and meanie eddie, language, crying, upset reader, talk of cancer, readers dad has cancer. a potential series if you want it, let me know!

gif is not mine!

update! part two has been posted and is located on my masterlist!

He supposed maybe over time it wouldn’t be absolutely crazy to have some sort of care for you, after all, he had known you since the both of you were in diapers in preschool together, and ever since, he’d treated you like dirt beneath his leather boots.

He was an absolute prick to you, and you couldn’t remember one memory of him being nice to you. Maybe it was because you came from a ‘white picket fence’ home, had good grades, an honor student, actually. Maybe it was because you were pretty? Maybe he liked you? No. You had long since disregarded that idea many years ago. He wouldn’t be this mean.

You walked as quickly as you could to the gymnasium, pink heels clicking with every step and turn. Your eyes blurred with tears and you hiccuped a breath. You pushed open the door, relieved no one was in there, at least, not to your knowledge, and plopped down on the closet set of bleachers to your right. You put your head in your hands and cried like a baby pathetically.

Eddie was closing up a deal when you’d come busting in dramatically. He quickly hid his stash, thinking it was a teacher as his customer quickly left the scene, muttering a thank you as he did so. When he say it was you, he cursed under his breath and put away his things.

He adjusted his jacket, putting away his weed and wallet as he watched you. He squinted his eyes. Were you crying? He’d seen you cry before, that wasn’t anything new, but you looked upset. He walked across the gym floor, adjusting his junk like a typical male specimen.

“Why the long face, L/n?” His demeaning voice boomed and echoed.

You jumped, revealing your tear stricken face. You groaned. “Fuck! I- I didn’t know anyone was in here. Sorry.” You went up to leave.

“Woah, woah,” He held up his hands. “You’re on my turf, L/n. Crying and trespassing on my property are not to go unpunished.” He tried to ignore the fact you were visibly upset, thinking maybe you got a bad grade or tripped over your own feet and embarrassed yourself. That’s usually what it was, anyways.

Today, however, you couldn’t deal with his dramatics. Your face crumbled into tears and you sobbed, slowly sinking back down to your seat and hunched back over. Eddie, despite his antics, couldn’t help but furrow his brow. He watched you for a moment, looking to see if anyone else was around he could pass you off to. He looked back at you, and when you pushed out a particular harsh sob, he knew that this time was different. Something was wrong.

Unbeknownst to him, he frowned, pursing his lips and climbed up to bleachers to sit beside you. He looked at you like you were from another planet, eyes wide and alert like you were playing a joke on him. He didn’t like this said joke.

“Hey, uh,” He cleared his throat, looking for the quickest way out. “Stop crying.” Way to cheer her up, buddy.

“I can’t.” You sobbed into your hands. “My life’s falling apart!”

That broke him out of his shocked state and he rolled his eyes at your dramatics, leaning back into his seat. “What happened now?”

“Just leave me alone, Eddie!” You snapped angrily, jerking your head toward him so hard he thought it was fly clean off and roll onto the floor with the rest of the disregarded basketballs. “Do you have to be such a jerk everyday of my life? Can’t you let me cry in peace just for once?” You stared at Eddie, who was startled and wide eyed, looking at you like you’d gone made.

He sighed heavily, a mask of irritation and annoyance falling over his hooded eyes. “Fine.”

He got up to leave, obeying your wish for once. You watched him get up and leave, and for some odd reason, your heart seemed to sink even further. Once again, you sank back into yourself, listening as his footsteps got further and further away.

He cursed when he got to the gymnasium door, turning back to look at your weeping figure. “Fuck.” He clenched his fist and brought it up to his teeth angrily. Why? Why did he suddenly seem to care about your distress?

He was back beside you, sighing loudly like he didn’t care. “Alright, L/n, what’s going on?”

You gave him a sharp glare, shooting him daggers. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” He fired back. “But I don’t need you busting in during my deals, so you might as well get whatever it is off your chest and wipe your damn tears.” He lifted himself off the seat briefly, reaching back and grabbing his black bandana and handing it to you. You didn’t grab it, so he placed it on your lap with a huff.

It was your turn to look him strangely, like he was from another planet, a strange land you’d yet to be aware of. “You’re being weird.”

“Shut up.” He retorted. “You’ve got snot all over your face.”

You purposely rubbed your nose with his bandana, making sure to clean your face of mucus and tears. He recoiled, grossed out at the action. “Yeah, you can keep that.” He said.

He gave you a minute. Nobody said anything as you calmed down, sniffling to yourself here and there. His concern grew when he noticed the shaking of your hands. “Hey,” He said, voice deep and gruff. “What’s the matter with you?”

You looked at him sadly, shaking your head. “My dad has cancer.”

He couldn’t help it then. His whole face dropped. His jaw fell slack and his eyes widened.

“I just found out yesterday.” Your voice was full and thick with tears. “I was in math class and just had to get out before I had a public fucking breaking down like I’m doing now!” You said, angry with yourself.

“It doesn’t even make sense!” You continued. “My dad is a good man! He’s done nothing to deserve this! I don’t understand!” You cried, rambling to him at this point. He didn’t mind, he didn’t know what to say anyways.

“My whole family is just…numb. Dad’s pretending he’s not bothered by it. He’s doing everything he normally does. Mowing the grass, helping mom with the flower bed.”

You kept talking and Eddie listened, and in that moment, he felt pure sorrow and remorse, compassion and empathy for you. He listened to your words and felt his stomach sink. And you were beautiful, a random thought jostled in the middle somewhere between sorrow and empathy.

You cried to him for almost an hour. You talked about your family falling apart, but continuing on despite the downfall. The number of months the doctors had given your father to live. You talked about not being walked by him down the aisle, him not seeing his grandchildren. It was all here and there, but Eddie listened and said nothing, and after awhile, you forgot he was there and that it was Eddie.

When two o’clock rolled around, you breathed heavily and looked at your watch, then him. “You didn’t need to stay.” You were completely exhausted, mentally and physically.

“It’s alright.” It was the first thing he’d said in an entire hour. “You needed someone to talk to. I’m just being a good samaritan.”

“Still,” Your eyes were red and raw. “Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not always bad.”

You managed to smile. He didn’t.

“Well, thanks.” You said softly. “My friends don’t know yet. Nobody does. Please don’t tell?” You looked at him with round eyes that were always so full of innocence.

“I won’t say anything.” He shook his head.

You sniffled once more and nodding, standing up and fixing your white skirt. “Well, I better get back to class. Thanks for listening.”

He let you walk all the way across the room and to the door before he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t look at him and he didn’t look at you, but both of your hearts seemed to lighten. The door clicked open loudly and shut, leaving him to himself.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bully eddie #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female character

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bonus-links · 5 months ago

Note

mandatory directors commentary ask because I’m absolutely obsessed with them <333 I just think it’s really cool seeing what you put into each update it’s so interesting :)

OKAY BUCKLE UP

a kind of important piece of context that's probably missing for this conversation wake and tetra have is that they were dating and broke up fairly recently. it felt awkward to shoehorn in a line about it but there u have it. anyway that's why wake feels the need to ask tetra to keep an eye on outset in the first place. like she'd actually say no.

did u know tetra has this image of the hero of time in her room on the ship? this worked out very well for me having that in frame hehe. it's also where the sun motif in the "we're cursed" panel comes from!

i like the idea that wearing big fancy earrings is a part of formal dress across all hylian cultures, and outset is no different! these particular ones wake is wearing are based on abalone shells which i think make really beautiful jewelry :-)

i just want to call attention to this relationship chart panel. wake doesn't even know that the first thing slate did was put a sword to wolf's neck. he doesn't know how right he is

this location is the top of ganondorf's tower. it's a little bit more of a symbolic image than a memory tho. fun fact, when you look at this location in noclip tetra is just standing there without her eyes loaded in. spooky stuff

okay, now onto the big one. the flood scene! this is in fact a vision Loft had of the original divine flood that created the Great Sea, and Loft is putting the pieces together. The one in the middle is actually wind waker's hyrule castle, not a temple like i've seen a few people guess. i had this really strong image in my head of the flood starting by pouring out of Hyrule Castle. does this make sense logistically, given the barrier we see around Hyrule Castle implies it was saved from the flood? maybe not, but I couldn't get the idea out of my head, so in the comic it goes

we don't ever seen WW's castle town in the game, so I actually used OOT's castle town as a reference. I just really needed a reference for this or else my head was gonna explode lol. that's also OOT's death mountain, which is mostly just there to show the spread of the flood.

this ending bit with the flood is kind of intended to be a continuation of the Farosh scene on the bridge. Loft is going to continue to have and be reminded of terrible visions of the future, and that anxiety he has around that isn't going to just go away. But I really wanted a scene where he acts on what Slate told him on the bridge— don't pity this place. He snaps himself out of it and chooses to join the party.

another note on that last panel lol, the person who's waving to him is Rose, the pig lady from the bonus comic!

alrighty I think that's all I got for now

#long post #directors commentary #ask #bonus content

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reminiscingtonight · 6 months ago

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Joyride

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Only Fletcher can help get me out of a writing slump

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’re not sure how this happened.

You’re supposed to hate her, supposed to despise the very ground she walks.

But here she is, Leah Williamson, in your kitchen at hours so early they would be considered blasphemous to the normal everyday person. Dressed in nothing but one of your boxers and ratty college t-shirts, you can’t help but rake your eyes over her figure.

Leah’s got half of her face buried in your fridge, looking for some food, but still, you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you tear your eyes away and refocus onto the spoon in front of you. Given that you weren’t really expecting any company last night, Leah can’t really blame you for not having much in your fridge to offer as breakfast.

You were quite nearly asleep yourself when you heard the knock on your door. An extra long training session paired with the club you went to the night before left you with barely enough energy to shower and microwave some leftovers when you got home. Only about half of it was eaten before you decided to call it a night and trudge up your stairs, your bed already calling for you. It was there, halfway up the stairs when you heard the clear rap of knuckles upon the door.

Though you were bone dead tired, the second you opened the door to see Leah, suddenly all traces of sleep flew out of your mind. You fisted a hand in her shirt, dragged her in for a bruising kiss, and the rest was history.

You look back up when Leah lets out a cry of triumph. There’s an air of smugness around her as she takes a bite of the peach she found, somehow looking so goddamn attractive even as the nectar drips onto the table. If Leah was literally anyone else you would be up in arms about keeping your kitchen sanitary. But given the less than PG things she did to you here last night after showing up unannounced… well let’s just say it would probably be a bit hypocritical of you to tell her to be more mindful of your kitchen counter.

And there you have it. A very domestic scene with Leah, the two of you enjoying the minimalistic breakfast whipped up on the whim.

God, how did you end up here?

Before a couple years ago, you only knew briefly of Leah. And then the Euros happened. The second England knocked you out was the second you decided to make an enemy of the English captain. It was bad enough your own captain tore her ACL moments before the entire tournament began. All hopes of making her proud ended with your own departure from the tournament.

In your dreams the quarter-final ended differently. You and the Spanish girls tore up the field and ended up bringing the trophy home. But then you woke and news of the pending transfers broke, and then you were sat with the idea of having to share your every breath with two Euros winners at training every day.

And thus came the beginning of the end.

In all honesty, you didn’t hate Leah long.

With the addition of her best mate to your squad, it was no surprise how often Leah came over to Barcelona. Keira’s appearance paired with Lia’s relationship with Mariona left Leah with a multitude of excuses to continue showing up to games and nights out with the team.

It sure didn’t help that after one particular night where the two of you drank a little too much, the two of you woke up tangled in your sheets wrapped up around each other. Despite your attempts at calling it a one night thing, one night turned into two and two into three and then suddenly every time Leah came to Barcelona the two of you ended up spending at least a couple hours together in bed.

Neither of you have really broached the topic much. Somewhere along the lines, everything changed. Though the sex was still very much there and still very very good, you guys began going on what could be considered dates. You showed Leah all the best places in Barcelona. She introduced you to her best friends at home in London. You surprised her by going to a couple of her games, she returned the favor just as quickly. In all pretenses the two of you were dating.

But you are a girl with standards, and those standards meant waiting until Leah came up with the nerve to actually ask you out before explicitly turning this into a real relationship.

And here you are, still waiting.

“I’m hungry.”

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a sheepish looking Leah. Clearly the peach wasn’t filling enough by the guilty look still on her face.

It’s honestly more evidence of your failure as a host, but you can’t help but poke fun at her a bit.

“Well that seems like a you problem. I’m still eating.” As if to prove your point, you give your spoon another lick.

Leah raises an eyebrow at your clear challenge. “I want actual food.”

“What, peaches aren’t enough?”

“Peach. Singular. And I need more than one to be full. I’m an active girl after all.”

You snort. “Oh are you? I could’ve sworn I’ve seen you kicking balls around with the rec team down the street.”

Leah’s mouth drops open. You swear she actually looks offended at your jest. “Rec team? I’ll have you know Arsenal is the best football club anyone could play for.”

“Yet you’re here. In Barcelona. We actually have a big girl’s team here if you want to join.”

“As if I would ever,” she scoffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” It’s your turn to be on the defensive. Having come up through La Masia, you were Barcelona bred through and through.

“Oh hush you, I know Kei has been trying to convince you to manipulate me to join. You guys may be my favorite people but I’ll leave Arsenal when hell freezes over.”

Your heart makes a strange flutter at Leah’s admittance of fondness for you, but you do what you do best and deflect instead. “And here I was, thinking you came to see me.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t.”

“Oh, so now I’m supposed to believe you hopped on a flight to Barcelona in the middle of the season just because you wanted a quick fuck?”

“Well I…” Leah looks a bit awkward as she tries to explain her presence. “Lia didn’t want to fly over here alone. So like a good friend…” she trails off with a wince.

Having too much fun to leave this alone, you continue to prod at her. “You call hooking up with me being a good friend to Lia?”

“Psh, semantics. She’s here to see her girlfriend too. It wasn’t like we were going to see much of each other anyways.”

“Oh, so we’re girlfriends now? Don’t think I ever got that memo.”

Leah’s face flushes a bright pink. “That’s not-- I wasn’t saying-- Don’t get me wrong--”

She buries her face in her hands when you burst out laughing, clearly having caught on to what you’re doing now.

“Stop teasing me! I barely got any sleep last night!”

“And whose fault is that?”

Leah rolls her eyes before breathing out a long breath.

When she sets her shoulders, you can almost see the return of cocky Leah. She rounds the counter, coming dangerously close to you.

“Put the spoon down.”

It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Make me.”

Leah’s grinning when she gladly does as you say. One hand comes to grab at your wrist, the other finding purchase on the tabletop behind you.

You watch with half lidded eyes as she guides the spoon to her mouth, hand never touching the silverware itself. Before you know it, she’s licked clean the peanut butter, leaving you with nothing but a new kind of hunger burning in your veins.

Leah hasn’t even let go of your wrist before you’re hooking a hand behind her neck and dragging her in for a kiss.

If Leah wanted to see just how good of a girlfriend you’d be, you would just have to show her.

And what better way than to introduce her to your bed again?

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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pin-k-ink · 7 months ago

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the sequel // suna rintarou

tw ⇢ childhood friends to lovers, so much angst, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, yearning, happy ending

wc ⇢ 5k

a/n: i never cried so much while writing something

Suna felt like he was watching a movie. A sad, tragic fucking movie that he couldn't tear his eyes away from no matter how much it hurt to keep looking.

Frame by frame, moment by excruciating moment, he watched you - his best friend, the love of his life - fall in and out of love with someone else. Again.

If his life really was a movie...what role would he play? The sidekick? The comic relief? No, he decided with a bitter twist of his lips. He wasn't even important enough for that. He was just an extra. A background character that no one noticed or cared about.

Someone who faded into the scenery while the bright, beautiful protagonist - that was you, always you - took center stage and shone.

Suna had known you his entire life. His earliest memories all featured you, front and center, with him orbiting around you like a satellite, like a moth drawn to a flame.

You'd taken your first wobbling steps together, hands clasped and eyes wide with wonder. Babbled your first words to each other in a language only you two could understand. Gotten into mischief and skinned your knees and learned about the world side by side.

For as long as he could remember, you'd been his constant, his touchstone. His north star. The axis his whole world turned on. Life without you was unfathomable. Unthinkable.

But somehow, as the years scrolled by like frames on a reel...Suna started to feel like he was watching from a distance. Like there was an invisible wall between you, thin as glass but strong as steel, that he could never quite break through.

No matter how close you were, how many secrets you traded and inside jokes you laughed over and half-spoken conversations you could hold with just a glance...you always felt just a little bit out of reach. Like a mirage that would dissolve into mist if he tried to touch. Something too good to be true, too precious for the likes of him to grasp.

And how could he even think of reaching out, of trying to hold onto you the way he desperately wanted to? How could a mere background character ever hope to stand alongside the radiant lead, the brightest spot in every scene?

No, Suna was content to stay in the shadows. To watch and support and be there in whatever way you needed him, even as it killed him by inches. As long as he could keep you in his life, as long as he got to stay by your side...that would be enough. It had to be.

But god, it was getting harder. Harder to paste on a carefree smile and listen to you gush about your latest boyfriend. Harder to swallow the jealousy and longing clogging his throat when he watched you with stars in your eyes, so incandescently happy in someone else's arms.

Harder to bite his tongue against the confessions that always wanted to spill out, to choke back the pleas and promises and declarations his treacherous heart whispered in the dark.

"I love you," he wanted to say, every minute of every day. "I've always loved you. You're my forever, my reason, my home. Pick me. Choose me. See me. I swear I'll spend my life making you happy, if you'll just let me try."

But he never said it. Never took that leap of faith, too terrified of shattering the fragile status quo. Too scared of losing you entirely.

So he stayed quiet, stayed still, even as he felt like he was cracking apart inside. He watched you fall in love again and again, watched each bright-eyed boy promise you forever. Watched your smile dim and your shoulders droop when they inevitably let you down, broke your big, beating heart so carelessly.

It was a particular kind of agony, holding you while you cried over someone else. Seeing the light go out of your eyes, powerless to do anything but wipe away your tears and murmur empty platitudes. Every hitched sob was a barb in his skin, every sniffle a dagger to his ribs.

He wanted to shake you sometimes, wanted to scream "Why can't you see what's right in front of you? Why can't you see how much I love you? How I would never, ever hurt you the way they do?"

But he never did. Just folded you close and stroked your hair and let you dampen his shirt with your grief. Let you give him tiny glimpses of the mosaic of cracks in your chest before you pasted on a wobbly smile and soldiered on, determined not to let the world see you bleed.

Those cracks scared him. Scared him in a bone-deep way few things ever had. Because he lived in dread of the day they splintered apart entirely. The day your seemingly endless capacity for love and joy and trust finally ran dry, bled out by a thousand careless cuts.

He couldn't bear the thought of your light going out forever. Of those glorious eyes going flat and dull, that incandescent smile withering on the vine. You were the sun and he was just a planet in your orbit - he genuinely didn't know if he could survive without your warmth. Without you, everything would wither.

So he would endure. He would be your rock, your safe harbor, your shelter from every storm. Even if it killed him, even if he shattered to pieces in the process, he would hold you together.

Because a world without your laughter, without your brilliant, untamable spirit...that was no world at all. And maybe his love could be enough to keep you shining. Maybe if he believed hard enough, if he poured enough of his own flickering light into you...you would be okay.

And just maybe, someday...you would turn that supernova smile on him. Maybe you would finally, finally see him. Not as a background character, not as a sidekick...but as a man who loved you with every fiber of his being.

As someone who had been there all along, just waiting for you to look a little closer. To see the shape of his devotion, the staggering depth of his feelings written in every line of his face, his heart in his eyes and your name carved into his bones.

But until that impossible day, he would watch. He would wait. He would bide his time until the credits rolled and the movie ended...and just pray that there would be a sequel. One where he finally got to step out of the background and into the spotlight of your eyes.

Where you were his co-star, his partner, his love. Where you wrote a new story together, one frame at a time, and the only tears were happy ones.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and gossamer and so painfully far out of reach. But it was all he had, so he clung to it in the hidden depths of his heart and kept watching the scenes play out.

Kept hoping that someday, if he was patient enough, if he loved you hard enough...the dream would become reality.

And you would finally, finally be his.

As the years scrolled by, Suna watched you grow and change, always from a step behind. He watched you navigate the perilous waters of adolescence, cheering you on as you blossomed into a beautiful, vibrant young woman. Watched you stumble and pick yourself back up, watched you learn and evolve and become more yourself with every passing day.

He was there for all of it, every milestone and heartbreak, every triumph and disappointment. When you got your first period and cried from embarrassment, he was the one who biked to the store for pads and chocolate, the one who held you and reassured you that it was all normal and okay.

When you got your heart broken for the first time at sixteen, he was the one who showed up at your window with ice cream and terrible movies, the one who let you sob into his chest and rail against the unfairness of it all.

When you got accepted into your dream college, he was the first person you called, screaming with joy down the line. He'd shut his eyes against the sting of tears, against the yawning ache in his chest at the thought of you leaving him behind...and told you how proud he was, how happy he was for you.

Always, always, he was your person. Your touchstone, your safe place. The one who knew you inside and out, backward and forward and every way in between. He was there in all the big moments...and all the little ones in between that made up a life.

Like the lazy summer afternoons spent lounging in the park, shoulders brushing as you read your respective books, content to just exist in the same space. The midnight walks under a canopy of stars, hands casually entwined, no words needed in the warm, honeyed dark.

The cups of coffee he'd bring you on drowsy mornings, made just the way you liked. The way you'd curl into his side during scary movies, face hidden trustingly in the curve of his neck, his arm a protective shield around you.

All those insignificant, in-between moments...they were everything to Suna. He hoarded them like a miser, turned them over and over in his mind like precious gems on nights when the ache in his chest got too big to breathe around.

Each one was a flicker of light, a tiny ember of hope that maybe, someday...you would see. You would understand just how much he loved you, how much he had always loved you. You would realize that he was right there, that he had been there all along, just waiting for you to really look at him.

But you never did. Your eyes always seemed to skim right over him, to look through him like he was made of glass, transparent and inconsequential. He was furniture to you, he sometimes thought despairingly. Part of the scenery of your life, always there but never really seen.

Never the one you wanted, the one you yearned for. He was the one you settled for, the one you came back to when the newest bright-eyed boy let you down. The one you cried on, the one you leaned on...but never the one you loved. At least, not the way he wanted you to.

God, how he wished you would love him. It was a physical ache, a bone-deep longing that never went away no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He felt hollowed out with it, scraped raw and empty.

Late at night, he let himself imagine it. Let himself paint a picture of a world where you wanted him back, where you looked at him with even a fraction of the desperate, clawing need he felt for you.

In his weakest moments, he let himself believe it could be real. That someday, you would wake up and realize that he was everything you'd ever wanted, that he could make you happy in a way no one else ever could.

That you would take his face in your hands, eyes wide and wondering like you were seeing him for the first time. That you would breathe his name like a prayer, like a revelation, and kiss him with a tenderness that set his soul alight.

That you would tell him you loved him, that you were sorry for taking so long to understand, but you wanted to make up for lost time. That you wanted to be his, wholly and completely, for the rest of your lives.

It was a beautiful dream, fragile and perfect as a soap bubble. But like a bubble, it always burst, leaving him blinking away stinging tears and feeling like a fool.

Because this wasn't a movie, no matter how much it felt like one sometimes. There was no guarantee of a happy ending, no artful resolution scripted in the stars.

In the real world, the guy pining in the background didn't always get the girl. Sometimes he just stayed in the background forever, watching her life happen without him, until the credits rolled and the lights came up on his lonely little corner of the world.

But oh, how he wanted to believe. He would never be the leading man, he knew that. He was too quiet, too steady, too content to let you shine while he basked in your reflected glow. You needed someone as brilliant and dazzling as you, someone who could match you spark for spark and set the world on fire.

Someone braver than him. Someone who would risk it all for a chance at your heart, instead of staying safe and silent on the sidelines.

He wasn't that guy. He never would be. But a tiny, desperate part of him still held out hope that maybe, someday...he could be enough for you, just as he was. That even if he wasn't the star of the show, he could still be an integral part of your story.

The one who was always there to catch you when you stumbled, to hold you up when you couldn't stand on your own. The one who knew your secrets and your scars, your hopes and your fears. The one who loved every messy, imperfect, beautiful inch of you, unconditionally and irrevocably.

Maybe he could be your co-star, your partner in crime and love and life. Maybe you could write a new story together, one where the quiet, steadfast best friend got his chance to step into the light and be seen, really seen, by the only eyes that had ever mattered.

It was a slim hope, gossamer-thin and liable to tear at the slightest touch. But it was all Suna had, so he held it close and carried it with him, a tiny flicker of light in the dark.

And he kept watching, kept waiting. Kept loving you with everything he had, even as it wore him down to the bone. He would play his role in your movie, would be whatever you needed him to be...until the day came when he could finally step out from the background and into your arms.

Until the day when "I love you" wasn't just a secret whispered in the dark, but a vow made in the light of your smile, your hands in his and your heart beating against his chest.

Until the day when the movie of his life finally got its happy ending...and you were right there beside him, radiant and real, as the screen faded to black and the credits rolled on a love story for the ages.

He just had to hold on until then. Just had to keep believing, keep loving, keep watching.

Because in the end, he knew it would all be worth it. You would always be worth it.

Even if it took a lifetime, even if it killed him...he would wait for you.

Always.

As the years went by and you both grew older, Suna watched you evolve and change in a thousand tiny ways. He watched you graduate college, watched you land your dream job and move into your first adult apartment. Watched you navigate the ups and downs of adult life with the same resilient grace he'd always admired, always loved.

Through it all, he was there. Your constant, your touchstone. The one you called when you got a promotion, voice bubbling with excitement. The one you leaned on when your grandma died, eyes swollen and voice thick with grief.

He was the one who helped you move, lugging boxes up endless flights of stairs and quietly assembling IKEA furniture while you flitted around like a hummingbird, arranging and rearranging. The one who showed up at your door with soup and medicine when you got the flu, who sat with you and watched terrible reality TV until you fell asleep on his shoulder.

He was woven into every part of your life, as essential and invisible as air. Always there, always just a phone call or a text away. Your best friend, your rock, your safe harbor in every storm.

But still, even as you grew closer than ever...there was a distance there. A wall that Suna could never quite breach, no matter how hard he tried. Because no matter how much of your life you shared with him, no matter how many secrets you whispered into the dark...there was always a part of you that held back.

A part that you kept locked away, hidden behind bright smiles and breezy deflections. The part that held your heart, your deepest hopes and dreams and fears. The part that Suna longed to know, to understand...but that you never quite let him see.

It hurt, that distance. It ate at him like acid, slow and corrosive. Because he wanted all of you, every messy, complicated, beautiful part. He wanted to crack you open and crawl inside, to burrow into the hidden depths of your soul and make a home there.

He wanted to be the one you turned to with your whole heart, the one you trusted with your most vulnerable self. He wanted to be your person in every sense of the word, not just the one you leaned on but the one you loved, the one you chose.

But you never did. No matter how much he longed for it, no matter how many nights he spent staring at the ceiling and wishing...you never saw him as anything more than a friend. A best friend, sure, but still just...a friend.

And god, it was getting harder to bear. Harder to swallow back the words that always wanted to spill out, the confessions and pleas and promises. Harder to bite his tongue and smile when you gushed about your latest boyfriend, to offer a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on when they inevitably let you down.

He felt like he was drowning, sometimes. Like he was being slowly crushed under the weight of all the unspoken things, all the pent-up love and longing and desperation. He felt like he was fading away, bit by bit, worn thin by the constant effort of holding himself together, of keeping his heart locked away behind a friendly smile and an easy laugh.

He wasn't sure how much longer he could do it. Wasn't sure how much more he could take before he shattered completely, before he just...broke.

But what choice did he have? He couldn't lose you. Couldn't bear the thought of a life without you in it, even if being near you was slowly killing him. You were oxygen to him, necessary and vital. Cutting you out would be like cutting out his own heart.

So he endured. He swallowed the hurt and the jealousy and the desperate, clawing need, and he was there. Always, always there, waiting in the wings. Waiting for you to see him, to really see him.

Waiting for his chance to step out of the background and into the light of your love.

It was getting harder to hold onto hope, some days. Harder to believe that there would ever be a right time, a perfect moment. That he would ever find the courage to lay his heart at your feet and beg you to take it, to cherish it the way he'd always cherished you.

But he had to believe. It was all he had, this fragile flicker of faith. The tiniest spark of possibility, glowing in the dark.

So he fanned it carefully, tended it like the precious thing it was. He held it close on the nights when the loneliness got too much to bear, when the ache in his chest made it hard to breathe. Whispered it to himself like a mantra, a prayer:

Someday. Someday. Someday.

Someday, you would see. Someday, you would understand. Someday, he would be brave enough, strong enough, to reach out and grasp the future he wanted so desperately.

Someday, your movie would reach its climax. The music would swell, the camera would pan in...and he would finally, finally step into his destiny. Into the starring role he'd always been meant to play, the one he'd been rehearsing for his whole life.

He would take your hands in his, look into your eyes...and he would say it. The words that had been living in his throat for years, the ones that beat against his ribs like caged birds, desperate for freedom.

"I love you," he would say, simple and honest and achingly true. "I've always loved you. And I know I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for, I know I'm not exciting or flashy or whatever, but...I'm here. I've always been here. And I always will be, if you'll let me. Because you're it for me. You're everything."

And maybe, just maybe...you would hear him. Really hear him, the way you never had before. Maybe you would look at him with new eyes, with dawning realization and wonder and joy.

Maybe you would see all the love he'd been holding back, see the shape of his devotion in every line of his face. Maybe you would understand that he was your person, your forever...just like you were his.

"Oh," you would breathe, soft and reverent. "Oh, Suna. I...I never knew. I never saw..."

"I know," he would whisper, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. "I know, baby. But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again."

And then...then you would kiss him. Soft and sweet and filled with promise, filled with all the love he'd always dreamed of. You would wind your arms around his neck and press close, and he would hold you like he'd always longed to, like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

Because you were. God, you were. And finally, finally...you were his.

His best friend. His soulmate. His happy ending, the one he'd always been chasing.

The credits would roll, the music would fade out...and a new story would begin.

The evening had started like countless others - just you and Suna, a few too many drinks, and a forgotten movie playing in the background as you laughed and joked and reminisced. It was comfortable, familiar, the kind of easy intimacy born from a lifetime of friendship.

But as the night wore on and the alcohol flowed, Suna found himself growing quiet, a melancholy settling over him like a fog. He watched you through increasingly blurry eyes, taking in the way the soft light played over your features, the way your laughter seemed to fill the room, bright and effervescent.

God, you were so beautiful. So vibrant, so full of life and joy and everything good in the world. And he loved you so much it hurt, a physical ache in his chest that never went away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

"You know what's really pathetic?" he found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could bite them back.

You turned to him, head cocked, a curious smile playing about your lips. "What's that?"

Suna swallowed hard, suddenly feeling like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, toes curling over the precipice. He knew he should step back, laugh it off, change the subject. But the alcohol had loosened his tongue, lowered his inhibitions, and suddenly...suddenly he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Me," he said, voice rough and scratchy with emotion. "I'm pathetic. Because I've been in love with you for so fucking long, and I've never had the balls to tell you."

Your eyes went wide, lips parting in shock, but Suna barreled on, the words pouring out of him like water from a burst dam.

"I've loved you since we were kids," he said, staring down at his hands, vision blurring with unshed tears. "Since the day you punched that kid for making fun of my haircut in third grade. Since the summer we were twelve and you broke your arm falling out of that tree, and you held my hand the whole way to the hospital even though you were the one in pain."

A smile flickered across his face, small and fond and aching. "I loved you when we were sixteen and you got your heart broken for the first time, and you cried on my shoulder for hours. I loved you when you accidentally burnt toast because you were singing in the kitchen. I loved you when we graduated high school, and you looked so beautiful in your cap and gown that it took my breath away."

He risked a glance up at you, finding you staring at him with a stricken expression, tears tracking silently down your cheeks. "I loved you through every boyfriend, every breakup, every lame movie night and inside joke and 2 AM phone call. I loved you on your best days and your worst days and every day in between."

Suna's voice broke then, a sob catching in his throat. "I love you now," he whispered, raw and ragged. "I love you so much it's like a physical thing, like a part of me. Like I can't breathe right when you're not around, can't think straight when you're near. You're in my veins, in my bones, in every beat of my fucking heart, and I...I can't keep pretending anymore."

The tears were flowing freely now, hot and fast down his face, but he made no move to wipe them away. "I know I'm not...I know I'm not what you want," he choked out, chest heaving with the force of his emotions. "I know I'm just your best friend, just the guy you call when you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to laugh with. But god, I want to be more. I want to be everything to you, the way you are to me."

He reached out with shaking hands, cupping your face, thumbs swiping at the tears painting your cheeks. "I love you," he breathed, pouring every ounce of longing, every shred of desperate devotion into the words. "I am so fucking in love with you, it's like...it's like I don't know how to be anything else. And I just...I needed you to know. Even if it ruins everything, even if you don't feel the same...I couldn't keep it in anymore. I couldn't keep lying to you, to myself."

Suna closed his eyes then, unable to bear the sight of your face, the pity or gentle rejection he knew must be written there. He felt flayed open, raw and exposed, heart lying shattered at your feet.

But then...then he felt your hands on his, warm and steady. Felt you lean in, forehead pressing against his own, the salt of your tears mingling with his.

"Suna, you idiot," you whispered, and he flinched, bracing for the blow. But your voice was soft, achingly tender, suffused with a warmth that made his eyes fly open in shock. "How could you not know? How could you not see that I...that I love you too? That I've always loved you, from the minute we met?"

He stared at you, hardly daring to breathe, to hope. But you were smiling through your tears, eyes shining with a light he'd never seen before. "You're not just my best friend," you said, hands sliding into his hair, cradling him like he was something precious. "You're my soulmate, my other half. The one person who knows me better than anyone, who's always been there, always loved me, even at my worst."

You pressed your lips to his forehead, his cheeks, the corners of his trembling mouth. "I love you, Suna Rintarou," you murmured against his skin, each word a benediction. "I'm in love with you. And if you want me...I'm yours. Forever."

A broken sob tore from Suna's throat, disbelief and joy and overwhelming relief crashing over him in a tidal wave. He surged forward, capturing your lips in a kiss that was messy and desperate and perfect, pouring every ounce of love, every year of longing into the press of his mouth on yours.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, hands fisting in his shirt, holding him close like you never wanted to let go. And god, he never wanted you to. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in you, in the love he'd craved for so long, the love he'd never dared to hope could be his.

When you finally broke apart, breathing hard, Suna couldn't stop touching you - hands skimming over your face, your hair, your shoulders, like he needed to convince himself this was real. That you were real, that this was happening.

"I love you," he rasped, resting his forehead against yours. "God, I love you so much."

You smiled, radiant and blinding, and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you too," you whispered. "Always have, always will."

And as Suna gathered you into his arms, as he buried his face in your hair and breathed you in...he felt something slot into place in his chest. A piece he hadn't even known was missing, a hole he'd carried for so long, suddenly filled by your love, your presence, your promise of forever.

From those early days when you first stumbled into each other's orbits, he'd watched your lives play out together like adjacent movies running on parallel screens. Two stories inching closer with each passing year, edging tantalizingly near but never quite converging into one. He was the yearning protagonist, you the luminous star burning bright just out of reach.

But now, in this transcendent moment, the projectors had merged. The credits were rolling on that old, achingly familiar film that had been his constant lonesome companion. And when the lights came up, when the screen flickered to brilliant new life...it was a sequel. Your sequel together at last, 3D and eye-searing in its vividness.

No longer was he resigned to loving you from afar, playing the supporting role in your story. Now you were his co-star, his perfectly matched lead - twin suns burning brilliantly side-by-side in their own cosmic romance.

This was just the beginning. Your beginning, the sequel he'd waited his entire existence to see... and it was more extraordinary than anything he could have ever imagined.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #suna x reader #suna fluff #suna x reader fluff #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader

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spellbinding10 · 4 months ago

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Okay… so Umbrella Academy season 4…SPOILERS!!!!

I know that maaaannnyyy people were not happy with Lila and Five, but I’m not gonna lie, in a way they were meant to be.

Now there’s the supposed “age gap” but we have to remember that, although he’s physically 19/20, Five is older than Lila. Yes she “watched him grow” from a mid teen but Five was so many years his own senior. And he was a legal age He was mentally 68 and has lived 2 maybe 3 lifetimes already. And for the most part he lived them alone.

I think that we all need to remember that five was alone for so long. He went back to his family, wounded, isolated and with foreknowledge that no one could comprehend. Lila is the only one that truly understands what it feels like to feel out of place in Time. They were raised by the same morals and merits. They understood what no one else could. They both have been through unimaginable pain and suffering. And I think they had the ability to heal one another, in fact they did. Five saw Lila for who she truly was, he cherished her and appreciated all of her. Her chaos, her madness, compassion, courage and mind.

Now I had the start of Lila and Five returning to her family scene paused for sooo long. I couldn’t bear watching it. Did I? Yeah, love me a bit of angst. I really didn’t like how hurt Diego was, truly, but Five knew what Lila and he had was real and I can understand his anger. Do I condone cheating, absolutely not. I’ve been cheated on. But I’m also one for “the right person”, so in a FICTIONAL world I understand. I can also understand why Lila needed to end it ,for the sake of her children, because that’s what true love is, the love of your children. But he was there when she had to let her family go. He stood by her side and comforted her even though she had broke his heart. And thank BrOKe me!

There also seems to be a lot of posts about the REAL Five Hargreeves. Guys that is character development. Is it positive. Eh, ish. But not all people grow in the same way. Yes Five would do anything for his family. But I don’t think he “gave up”. Five has always been logical, from the very start. His sole purpose in life was to get back to his family and save the world. Save the people of that world, their lives, the very essence of life. And he did that. He didn’t give up. Five found out that his family was the cause of it all. He didn’t sacrifice them to be selfish. He couldn’t stand to watch his family die over and over. They would never rest, never know peace and they would spend the rest of their lives knowing that each apocalypse was their fault. It took courage to tell them. They could have kept going on. Klaus, would have kept using. Luther would still be in anguish over Solan (also where the fuck was she in all this? - anyway, no, another time) Allison would have kept loosing Claire. And every one of them would have kept loosing something in that particular time line that they cared about. I dunno man. I think Five is the same as he always was. He lived alone in the apocalypse surrounded by the destruction of life. He ensured it wouldn’t happen ever again. He did his job. He saved his family. The world.

So yeah, you’re all entitled to your opinion and you have your reasons for it. This is mine. I liked Five and Lila. The ending was, peace and love to the writers, bullshit - though bittersweet I suppose, but bullshit.

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy season 4 #five hargreeves #five and lila #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #allison hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #reginald hargreeves #five x reader #five hargreaves x reader

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 9 months ago

Note

Hi. Could you write a rafe smut with 16 and 7 ‘’Be a good girl and spread your legs.’’ + ‘’Does that turn you on?’’

Here it is, part 2 of Rave x Thornton!reader (part 1 here)

Warnings: 18+, smut, p + v, mention of oral (f receiving)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It was past 1am when the boys came home from the club. Judging by the voices, Topper's 23rd birthday had been well celebrated. Your brother didn't abuse alcohol very often, but you could hear his drunk voice talking to Rafe in the hallway.

You laughed quietly. Happy birthday, Top!

You heard his door close, then shortly after Rafe's opened. He didn't turn on the big light, moving around in his bedroom as he was taking off his clothes and tossing them in a corner before going into his en-suite bathroom for a quick shower.

When he came out of his shower, that’s when he noticed you in his bed.

‘’What are you doing in here?’’ he asked, a white towel wrapped around his waist.

You didn’t move from the comfort of his pillows. ‘’I told you I was taking your bed.’’

‘’I never agreed to that. Get out.’’ Rafe dropped his towel and opened one of his dresser’s drawers to pull out a pair of clean underwear. He didn't care that you saw anything. It was nothing you hadn't seen before - or tasted.

You propped yourself up on the pillows, grinning mischievously. ‘’Come on, Rafe, you’re really gonna kick me out at this hour of the night? I’m already in bed.’’

‘’I don’t care. I don’t let people sleep in my bed.’’ He walked to his bed and yanked the covers from you, catching the small matching pink pajama set you were wearing. It was hugging your figure in a way that made his cock twitch. ‘’Take a pillow and get out. I have shit to do in the morning.’’

‘’I’m not sleeping on the fucking couch,’’ you said stubbornly, tipping your head up to look at Rafe.

The latter groaned, his patience wearing thin at this hour of the night. Without warning, he reached down and firmly grabbed your ankles, roughly pulling you towards the edge of the bed.

You grabbed at the sheets, trying to resist his grip, but he was stronger. ‘’What are you doing—’’

‘’Getting you out myself.’’

‘’I'm not leaving,’’ you repeated, pushing at his hands and kicking your legs and feet. ‘’Let go of me, Rafe.’’

In the midst of your erratic movements, one particular hard pull made Rafe lose balance and topple over you on the bed. The scene felt right out of a cliché enemies to lovers rom-com. Your first instinct was to push him off you, but then it came to your realization that you could use this position to your advantage.

‘’Let's make a deal,’’ you suggested, trying to ignore the heavy body on you. ‘’Earlier, we got interrupted before I could fulfill my second part of the agreement. So, how about I let you fuck me and you let me stay here?’’

‘’Absolutely no—’’

Before he could finish his sentence or get up, you pushed your hips up, purposely rubbing your bottom halves together. Although there was thin cotton separating both, the contact made Rafe groan — and his cock stiffen. He usually didn't get hard so fast, but the alcohol in his blood was making his hormones increase.

‘’What was that? I didn’t hear,’’ you asked with a teasing smile, tilting your head to the side.

A mix of desire and frustration filled the blue eyes looking down at you. He was trying to resist your advances, but Rafe was a guy and he was having a full on cock to brain dilemma.

You gasp when his mouth crashed on yours. You won.

There was nothing slow or sweet about this kiss. It was rough and passionate and heated, just mouths smashing into each other. Exactly what you expected from Rafe Cameron after getting his patience tested by his best friend's little sister.

His hand ghosted over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you felt him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you noticed it. Rafe broke the kiss, his blue eyes looking right into yours. No one ever did this to you, but you didn’t hate it. Your lips curled into a devilish grin, waiting for his next move.

‘’I’m gonna show you how I deal with little bitches like you.’’

Rafe’s words had you dripping between your legs. Some girls preferred to be good, but it wasn’t your case. You liked to tease and get punished.

He nudged your knees apart with his and you melted into his touch, mewling when he pressed against your clothed clit. ‘’Does that turn you on?’’

You pushed your hips against him to get more friction, but he removed his knee and stood to get a condom. One thing about Rafe was that he never hooked up with a girl bare.

‘’This needs to come off,’’ Rafe said when he returned to the bed. He peeled off your pajama shorts and panties in one go. ‘’Be a good girl and spread your legs.’’

You spread your legs as wide as they’ll go, giving him the perfect view of how dripping wet your pussy was. Being completely exposed like this should be embarrassing, but if your legs could open wider, you would. You clenched around nothing, feeling Rafe's eyes on you.

‘’Look at that,’’ he said, giving your pussy a tap that echoed in the room. You squirmed at the contact, secretly wanting him to do it again. ‘’Looks better from the vip seat.’’ He then pulled at your pajama top up to free your tits and palmed your breasts as his fingers rolled your nipples, pinching it hard.

You hissed and his face bored the meanest smirk as he ripped the foil packet. He jerked himself a few times before rolling on the condom.

You were about to be completely ruined.

Rafe teased your clit with his tip, but plunged his cock into your cunt before you could push back against him for more. It would be a lie if you said it didn't hurt, your tight walls hugging every inch of his cock.��

You had been thinking of this since Topper interrupted you in the afternoon. How his cock would feel inside you. And now it was finally happening.

You grabbed at the bedsheets until the discomfort subsided, pleasure slowly taking over as Rafe began to thrust. You gasped in pleasure, clenching around him.

He folded your legs for a deeper angle and groaned, looking down and watching his thick cock disappearing in and out of you. ‘’Such a good pussy. Surprised it’s still so tight after getting stretched out so often.’’

The urge to slap him was strong, but every thrusts felt so good that if you opened your mouth, only high pitched cries would come out. He may be an asshole, but the dick was good.

Getting bored with this position, Rafe pulled out and flipped you over like a ragdoll, your bare ass raised in the air. You didn’t get time to register what was happening; Rafe wasted no time and began pounding you from behind, his big hands gripping your hips. You pressed your face in the mattress to muffle your moans, terrified that Topper would hear on the other side of the hallway. He was likely sleeping like the dead, but you didn’t want to risk it.

It was a matter of minutes before you felt close to your edge, the sounds of wet slapping of skin mixing with Rafe’s low groans echoing in the room. You reached below you to rub your throbbing neglected clit, but Rafe grabbed your hand with a vice grip and pushed you down on the mattress, holding you down as he pounded his last thrusts.

When he was done, Rafe pulled out and threw the used condom in the trash, then flopped on his bed and pulled the covers over himself, leaving you there. ‘’Good night.’’

‘’Are you being serious?’’

Rafe looked at you, amused by how mad you looked. ‘’Aw, you haven’t cum yet?’’

You narrowed your eyes at him. He knew. He was doing this on purpose.

‘’Get over here. Sit on my face, I’m tired.’’

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx @sweeterheartxamerica @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc @pedrosprincess @mikaelsonsstuff @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @madelynie @loverofdrewstarkey @radiant-whore @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696 @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius @buckyswhxre @emerald-09 @simonessolarsystem @rehead1180 @stvrkey

All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #i have not reread this so i apologize

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cardansriddle · 2 years ago

Text

Teach Me (part 2) - (tom riddle x fem!reader)

part 1

warnings: smut. public sex. unpretected sex. not proofread bc i'm living on the edge today.

A/N: okay we all know i'm shit at writing smut so feel free to judge. i am not at all satisfied with how this turned out but oh well. you ask and i shall deliver.

buymeacoffee <3

༻♛༺

You were on edge.

With every step you took in the castle grounds, with every turn around a corridor, you expected to hear the not-so-hushed whispers and the not-so-subtle dirty glances thrown at you for your indecent behaviour.

But they never came.

You were growing paranoid with every passing day, and you had convinced yourself that the Slytherin boy who had seen you and Tom in a compromising position was just waiting for the ideal moment to blast the bomb and bring on your ruination.

You glanced at your friend sitting next to you, on the seat that you usually reserved for Tom, but now that you were trying to avoid him, you had forced your friend to sit near you.

"Heard anything interesting lately?" You subtly questioned, knowing she could never resist the temptation of gossip. She smiled mischievously and leaned forwards so that her words would not be heard by unwelcome ears.

"Walburga Black was caught in a broom closet..." She took a dramatic pause and widened her eyes. "With her cousin!" She whisper-yelled, and you were quite sure the students sitting in front of you tensed and shared a curious glance with each other at the new piece of gossip.

Despite your inner disgust, you only chuckled weakly and your eyes strayed around the room in search of—

Tom was staring at you. There was no particular emotion displayed on his face, but you could tell he was displeased. You quickly turned around to face your desk in front of you, willing your heart to slow to a steady rhythm. You cursed the way he could affect you just with his stare.

"Are you alright? You look flushed."

You smiled at your friend. "It's just hot in the room. I am fine."

Yet all throughout the class, you were uncomfortably aware of his gaze at the back of your head.

So when the professor dismissed you, you rushed to collect your things and sprung to your feet to make your swift escape. You were almost out the door when a hand grabbed your arm and pulled hard enough to have you crashing into someone's chest.

You were about to yell at whoever had pulled back, but when you lifted your gaze from the green-silver tie wrapped around the culprit's neck, you could not find the words.

Tom was staring down at you with a raised brow as if daring you to utter a word. "Come with me." And before you could object, he was dragging you with him, hand tight around your arm.

"Tom! Let me go." You whisper-yelled, throwing glances behind your back to see if students had caught on to the scene. But fortunately, they were blissfully unaware. "Someone might see us. Let me go!" You attempted once again, but Tom only shot you a dark glare.

When he made a sharp turn to the left, you realised you were in one of the abandoned hallways. "Tom Riddle, unhand me this instant!" You raised your voice before tugging your arm out of his grip, and he looked at you in mild bewilderment.

"You have been avoiding me." He broke the pregnant silence, brown eyes piercing right through you with their intensity.

You threw your hands in the air in frustration. "Are we seriously doing this here? Right now?"

He cocked his head to the side in interest as he watched your antics. When his gaze did not relent, you sighed and decided to just go out with it.

"What do you not understand? I am quite sure you are aware that if the boy ever decides to open his mouth, I will be ruined."

He hummed, those intoxicating dark eyes still watching you. "That still does not explain why you have been running away from me."

"Are you serious? I am mad at you, Tom! For the smartest person in this school, you are pretty damn idiotic to me—" He frowned at that, "—And you stood there and did nothing when he witnessed us! You could have spoken to him and convinced him not to say anything, yet all you—"

"I obliviated him."

"What?"

"After you left, I obliviated him." He repeated as if he was stating the obvious.

You backed away, unsure how to proceed with this information.

"I thought you would figure it out." He added with his brows pinched together. You gave him an incredulous look, silently asking how in the world you could figure that out magically.

"You are horrible," You muttered.

He rose a single brow, trying to hide his amusement, and in a mock inquisitive tone, he proceeded to ask, "Oh, I am?"

"Yes! It has been hell for me while you were allowing me to live in this miserable state." With an angry huff, you pushed him on the chest with all your might. He barely even moved from your attack, and if anything he was fully smirking now, which aggravated you even more. "I hate you!"

As you were about to push him once again, he managed to grab a hold of your wrists and held them against his chest, causing you to stumble straight into him. You looked up at him from your position, and your breath hitched in your throat at the nonexistent proximity left between you. His eyes were a shade darker, just like they were on that day when he had kissed you. You could only assume it was desire pooling in his irises, drowning the warm brown shade in its wake. You licked your lips almost subconsciously, and his gaze dropped to watch the action.

"Tom?" You spoke hesitantly, your voice small and breathy.

"Do you wish for me to teach you more? Hm?" He whispered hoarsely, breath fanning against your mouth and you could not help but lean closer. "Do you wish me to teach you how to pleasure a man?" He gulped, and you were transfixed as you watched him close his eyes as if he was imagining every possible scenario of you doing those things to him. When his eyes reopened, they were burning with an emotion that made your knees tremble. "Or perhaps I could show you all the ways a woman could be pleasured?" His hand rose to caress the skin of your cheek. You nodded, not being able to form any coherent words with the obscene way he was speaking.

He tutted, displeased. "I need to hear you say it."

"Please, Tom. Yes. Please."

Your desperate plea was all he needed before he brought his lips down to connect with yours in a heated kiss. Your mind began to feel dizzy as he moved his lips against yours, and you quickly freed your hands from his hold in order to weave them behind his neck.

He began pushing you back until you felt your back hit the cool texture of the wall, and he pressed into you desperately.

"Someone could see us," Came your strangled whisper when his mouth travelled to the spot where your jaw met your neck, but he did not answer you as he bit into the delicate skin, marking it with his teeth. Your hands grabbed a hold of his hair and tugged at it to yank his lips from your neck, and he let out a low groan of your name at the action.

"Let them see." He murmured before reconnecting his lips with yours. "Let them witness how I ruin you for everyone else, so they know you are only for me."

You whimpered at Tom's words. You had never felt such desire in your life. Never had your blood burned so desperately for someone. You wanted all of him. You wanted him to consume you whole.

Tom pulled at your school robe, doing a quick work of undoing it until it fell and pooled on the floor.

His grip on your waist tightened as he ground the constricting material of his pants between your legs, and you gasped at the feeling of his hardness pressed against you. "Tom, please." You begged once again, all shame and embarrassment gone from your body and replaced with only raw need.

Tom's hand left your waist and began travelling lower. He bunched up your skirt, and you whined when the tips of his fingers teased the skin of your inner thigh. You felt him smirk against your lips at the effect he was having on you. He skimmed his knuckles against your closed heat, causing you to throw your head back against the wall and flutter your eyes shut. "Stop teasing me."

"You are so wet for me and I have barely even touched you," He said as he pushed your underwear to the side and finally touched you where you needed him the most. A moan left your lips at the feeling of his fingers sliding against you, and you wondered not for the first time if Tom would be your undoing. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, and you felt him breathe faster against the skin of your throat as if he was enjoying this almost as much as you were.

His fingers made a mess of you, and you were chanting his name like a prayer, uncaring of the possibility that someone could discover you.

"I need you."

Your hands dropped to his pants, and you hastily attempted to undo them, only for Tom to pause his ministrations with a displeased hum. "Greedy girl." You watched, utterly transfixed as rose his fingers and put them in his mouth as if to savour your taste. Your cheeks burned at the sight, and you swore you had never seen anything so obscene in your entire existence.

"Beg for it."

You almost choked. "What?"

"You want me? Then you will beg for me."

You shuddered at the commanding tone, and something about it made you even more desperate. Desperate to please him.

"Please." You pleaded. "Please, Tom."

He got rid of his pants while you begged with no shame, but he did not seem entirely satisfied with your cries. "What do you want? Say it." He demanded, and you felt him tease you right where you needed him, yet he held back, not quite pushing inside you.

"I want you to ruin me." You breathed out, and you hoped he would not ask you to say anything else because you were not sure if your brain would be able to string up a sentence together. The sensation of him rubbing against you was enough to clog your brain, and you forgot all else except him.

He tightened his grip on your hip, and you briefly wondered if he would leave a mark. "Good girl." Is all he muttered before pushing forwards and sliding into you torturously slowly until he filled you to the brim.

It was painful. But in that pain, there was a particular type of pleasure you had never experienced before. You were convinced you would descend into madness at the feeling of him filling you completely. You could not tell where you began and he ended, it was as if you were one.

Tom dropped his head into the crook of your shoulder, groaning your name in a way that almost pushed you over the edge. "Tell me I can move."

"Yes. Please, move."

At your plea, he exhaled and rose his head so he could watch your face instead as he drew back. You gulped, hand tugging at the nape of his neck because he was already pushing back inside of you. You felt so full of him, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you relished in the euphoria that washed over your body every time he rolled his hips against yours.

This was a sin. The aching pleasure in your body had to be a sin. You never thought it was possible to feel the way you did at that moment, and you swore you would sin for the rest of your life and burn for it if it meant you could relive this moment over and over again.

When you opened your eyes, Tom's gaze snapped up from where he had been watching your hips move against his and there is a darkness in his eyes, as if he was ready to devour you whole.

"You feel so good. All for me. Only for me."

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed in the hallway, and you quickly pulled him closer so you could connect your lips with his in a kiss. His grip on your thigh tightened at the action, to the point where you were sure there would be marks in the shape of his fingers the next day, but the thought only spurred your pleasure. As if that was not enough, he pulled away from your lips to latch his mouth on your throat, biting, sucking, and kissing until you knew that the skin of your neck would look like a warzone.

"Tom...I—I'm..."

He exhaled sharply and quickened the pace of his hips. "I know, I know."

Your body was getting caught on fire with his every hard thrust, and you felt yourself approaching your high, the fire burning brighter and brighter in your body until—

"Tom..." You moaned as you felt yourself peak, and your eyes shut in ecstasy.

He continued to thrust into you, his movements becoming sloppier and sloppier, chasing his own relief. He gasped your name into your mouth, and you felt him spill himself inside you, reaching his high.

Your head dropped against his chest, your body limply melting in his hold from exhaustion. Both of you panted heavily, trying to regain your composures, and you heard him chuckle lightly.

"What?" You asked, finding enough strength to raise your head and look at him. He was wearing a lopsided smirk, and you subconsciously reached out to brush the sweaty strands of his hair back, as if it was the most natural thing to do.

His eyes flicked between your own, glinting with mirth. "When you first asked me to show you how to kiss so you would be prepared for your future husband, I never imagined it would lead us here."

"Well, Mr Riddle, do you think my husband will be satisfied with what I have learned so far?" You teased with a smile, which turned mischievous when he suddenly glowered as if offended.

"What I think, darling is that you are delusional if you think I would let anyone else near you now that I have had you. Let alone wed you."

His gaze roamed your features, and for the briefest of moments, you wondered if you imagined the flash of red in his eyes.

"You will have no husband to impress. You shall remain as my student and I will teach you how to satisfy me."

You rose a brow at his words, and you could not help but ponder if he was simply jesting, or if the territorial tone in his voice was actually serious. "Oh? And what if the student becomes the master? What will you do then?"

"Then I shall learn how to worship your body until you know no one else's touch but mine."

And when he lay his forehead against yours in an uncharacteristic display of affection, you knew he had no intention of ever letting you go.

༻♛༺

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#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x reader smut #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle x you #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle angst #soft tom riddle #tom riddle imagine

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