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theharddeck · 1 year ago

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do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone.

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit.

But.

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app.

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do.

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play.

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones.

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena.

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you.

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy.

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer.

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter.

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering.

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip.

Why did guys in real life never moan?

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure.

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low.

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only.

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you.

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste?

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy, acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin.

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.”

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his.

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?”

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper.

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you.

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper.

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him.

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?”

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds.

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you.

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly.

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl.

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy.

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?”

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against.

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded.

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.”

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect.

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there.

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow.

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to.

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear.

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set.

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you.

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door.

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time.

Some might even say, with a pep in your step.

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed.

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat.

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly.

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on.

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing).

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person.

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets.

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration.

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze.

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too.

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise.

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips.

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago.

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.”

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock.

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms.

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it).

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal.

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before??

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot.

A knock on your door startled you.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically.

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door.

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused.

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it.

He looked the same.

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you.

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills.

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them.

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral.

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away.

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse.

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room.

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced.

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t.

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room.

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again.

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it.

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep.

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react.

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation.

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again.

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you.

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly.

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him.

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob.

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway.

Of course he did.

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately.

Objectively, Bob was the best.

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you.

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you.

He pushed himself off the bed.

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either.

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay.

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it.

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question.

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break.

You kissed him.

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer.

He was so soft.

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him.

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention.

“Can I show you?” you asked.

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry.

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely.

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous.

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him.

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard.

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on.

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze.

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently.

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you.

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually.

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked.

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob.

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered.

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them.

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett.

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard.

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him.

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need.

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch.

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission.

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations.

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing.

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing.

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it.

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric.

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob.

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again.

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob.

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering.

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob.

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking.

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did.

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled.

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him.

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.”

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him.

It was better with him.

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing.

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good.

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there.

You felt like you were floating.

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him.

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he?

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life.

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right.

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips.

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you.

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself.

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner.

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin.

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin.

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned.

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.”

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had.

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless.

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered.

He wasn’t done, either.

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…”

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses.

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man.

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace.

You loved the feeling of his skin.

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you.

Fuck.

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders.

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric.

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself.

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him.

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick.

Holy. Shit.

He looked like a work of art.

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl.

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky.

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat.

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it.

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact.

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you.

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him.

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them.

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking.

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster.

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much.

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly.

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot.

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you.

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more.

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn.

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect.

Fuck, he felt so good.

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon.

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked.

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything.

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop.

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying.

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core.

He knew, somehow.

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher.

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising.

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…”

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him.

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back.

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop.

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant.

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him.

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips.

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you.

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you.

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips.

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher.

And then.

And then he got close.

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you.

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it.

When you came back, you were on your side.

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction.

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

#bob fucks #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd #misskielwrites #International Bob Floyd Fucks Month

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year ago

Note

Okay but like…clarisse jealous?

I like a challenge when the prize is you

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

warnings: platonic luke x reader, kissing, title is from center by sir chloe.

wc: 2.0k

Today was your birthday, and though birthdays aren't exactly a big thing in camp half blood, considering there are probably more than 300 kids here, your cabin siblings decided to plan out a small party to celebrate it anyways.

You are easily one of the most highly respected demigod here. When you first arrived at camp, you held your ground and barely showed any fear nor awkwardness. You were friendly and charming but knew when to not take people's shit, that had earned you a favorable reputation and had gotten your godly parent to claim you after only being there for two weeks.

People liked you. And because of the way you're perceived, they were all pretty surprised to find you in a secured relationship with the commonly known camp boogeyman.

You and Clarisse hit it off rather quickly. What started as a playful banter bloomed into a strongly bonded friendship, and then soon enough, became a romantic relationship.

The two of you grounded eachother constantly, you compliment eachother personality wise, and you just have much more in common then people think.

Equally as excited as your cabin siblings, Clarisse arrived right on time for your party in your cabin. The event was a private one, only your siblings and close friends are invited.

They had worked together baking a lovely raspberry cheese cake for you along with some brownies and chips. Despite it being your party, you were warned of stealing a taste of any of the food before the party begun.

You were immensely grateful when the clock finally hit 8pm and everyone invited finally arrived. "Can I cut the cake now?" You asked for the 5th time.

"Yes." Your siblings answered together, laughing at your excitement. Clarisse sat by your left, passing you the cake cutter. "Can you do it?" She mumbles as she watches you struggle to push it all the way down.

You hummed positively and pressed on harder untik the knife finally reaches the bottom of the cake and everyone cheered. "There you go." You mutter to yourself.

Continuing to cut the rest of the cake, you soom began passing the pieces to everyone on paper plates before leaving the rest of it for yourself.

Clarisse was quick to scoop up a section of it with a spoon to wave it over your face. "Alright baby, you know how it goes, open up." Everyone else was laughing at the sentiment, but you weren't bothered by it at all, opening your mouth wide open for Clarisse to feed you like a mother does to her toddler.

The party hat you were wearing really tied it all together. Nothing says festive more than a coney party hat with pink and yellow polka dots over them.

"Oh this is amazing." You say with your mouth full, moaning at the taste. "Here, let me do it." You offered quickly, taking the spoon from Clarisse to feed her the same way.

If it was any other day, she'd rather die than get caught being babied like this, but it was your birthday, so automatically, you get a free pass.

"Someone should take a photo." One of the girls called out, Clarisse' glare immediately shut her up. You laughed at her reaction, squeezing her cheek. "Oh no, you're grumpy again." She rolled her eyes and relaxed her face from all the frowning.

"I'm not grumpy, I just naturally look like this." She defends herself as she eats her portion of the cake.

Music was playing on the back, a mix of Debussy and Tchaikovsky on shuffle as everyone knew how overwhelming loud party music made you feel.

It was all well and beautiful, everything went better than expected, and it's in these moments, surrounded by your loved ones and feeling your happiest, that you feel the luckiest in life.

It was present sharing time when you heard your cabin door knocked on. You ignored it ar first, letting your sibling check on the visitor as you continue to open your presents.

"Oh my god, it's a cat sweater!" You exclaimed at your sister's gift. She was only 10 with a passion for sewing and fashion, and she probably took days to make the sweater. You could see the slightly folded and unsymmetric edges, making it even more endearing.

"You said it's your favourite animal." You nodded your head and bear hugged her. "It is, thank you for this."

You were about to open your 4th present when your sibling that you had sent to check on the door came sprinting back. "Who is it?" You asked with a raised brow.

"It's, Luke." The name caused the noise around you to husb down. You could feel Clarisse stiffen next to you when you smiled. "Oh, is he joining us?" You doubt it, seeing as he wasn't exactly invited, and it was already so much people here.

"No, he said he wants to see you outside."

You and Luke are as close as he is with anyone else. His face is usually what new campers are met with, being the leader of Hermes cabin and all, he's always taken the role of the mentor very naturally, never having a problem helping the new kids find where they belong.

Clarisse unfortunately doesn't view your friendship with him as just that. You've seen the way she tries to size him up whenever he attempts to talk to you alone.

You stood up from your sitting position and ushered your friends and siblings to get back at the eating and dancing as you walk yourself out of the cabin to meet him.

Your hand slips away from Clarisse's. You give her a quick smile that meant 'don't worry about me', before you disappeared from her sight.

Just as you were informed, Luke is outside the door when you exit from it. He wears his easygoing grin when he sees you. You returned his smile and spoke his name.

"Hey." He greeted you. "Got the birthday girl a present." He shows you the small box he carried with him, wiggling his brows as he speaks.

"Oh, Luke, you shouldn't have." He shook his head at you nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, just wanted to get you something." His presses the box into your hand and folded your fingers over it before taking a step back.

"Thank you, Luke." You tell him, meaning those words. He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Your welcome. Now, I'm sure you'd like to go back to your party. See you tomorrow?" You nod your head.

"Alright then, have a good night, happy birthday." You waved at him as he walks off towards his own cabin, waiting until he's a few steps away before going back in.

You were glad that no one really noticed you until you were near to the group to sit down. Though Clarisse's eyes were on you as soon as you entered the cabin.

Some of them stopped eating as they moved to seat crisscrossed closer to you. "What did he want?" One of them asked.

You lifted the box up for them to see. They responded with an 'oooh' as they wait for you to open it. "It's so small." Your younger sibling noted, hovering above the box. "Maybe it's a ring." The other suggested. You snorted and shook your head.

"And where would he find a ring around here, less alone to make one." You knew it wasn't a ring. Besides the fact that he didn't have your ring size, he wouldn't give you such a bold gift that could cause a misunderstanding and piss of Clarisse at the same time.

You opened it gently and awed at it's inside. It was a brooch. One in the size of your thumb. A golden coloured hibiscus engraved brooch. "This is lovely." You noted, letting everyone else look at it.

"It's fine." Clarisse countered, her nose scrunching at the view.

As your younger sibling held it in her hand to properly look at it, you reach over to Clarisse, intertwining your fingers together again. "What about you? No gift for little ol' me?" You ask her jokingly.

"Of course I got you a gift," she scoffed, leaning in to your side. "But I'm not gonna give it here. These chatterboxes can't be trusted."

"These chatterboxes are my siblings." She shrugged at your words. "Never said you weren't a chatterbox either." You gasped loudly, faking offense and lightly slapping her arm. Her grouch falls away, her pursed lips curved into a small smile.

The rest of the party went well, you managed to get everyone to finish the food so there wouldn't be any leftovers. And despite the argument your cabin presented, you helped them cleanuo the mess and threw away the trash before ot was time to turn off the lights.

You made sure all your younger siblings have been tucked in and all your older ones are done with the chores before you and Clarisse leave the cabin past 11pm.

Some of the girls sent you teasing looks before you left, but they all swore to secrecy and made sure to cover for you just incase Chiron or Mr.D heard of your little past curfew late night walks.

Once the two of you made it further into the woods, Clarisse pulls you by the arm to sit down next to her on the less harsher part of the grass. You immediately moved to wrap your arm around her neck, resting your head underneath her chin, she wraps her own arms around you and placed a chaste kiss on your hair.

"Happy birthday." She whispers against your forehead.

You looked up at her from your position and eyes her suspiciously. "I thought you said you had a present for me?"

A short laugh escapes her as she ruffles your hair. "My presence is not a gift enough for you?" You blinked and answered; "No."

Clarisse laughs again and uses her right hand to pull something out of the inside pocket of her jacket. "Well, at least you're honest." She did not have a box or a wrapper like the others did. But your heart melted at the sight of the present still.

It was a string of pearls. A necklace. And you could tell from the shine and the ivory colour of it that they weren't fake pearls. They attracted you like a moth to a flame.

"Clarisse, this is beautiful." You told her, she passes it onto your hands and watch as you eye them closely. "I know. Better than the stupid pin." You brows raise at that, your gaze darts from the necklace to her face.

"Careful Clar, some might say you sound a bit jealous." She huffs and winces at that. "I'm not jealous- I- I just...don't like him."

"And why don't you like him?" You question her. "Because he keeps hitting on my girlfriend." She answers in a matter of factly tone. "Being nice doesn't equal flirting." You tell her.

"I know that. Does he know that?"

Clarisse has never liked the way Luke talked to you, and sometimes you genuinely wonder if she was right and if it was you who never noticed any of his romantic advances. But your principle has always been straight to the point, if he doesn't say it outright, then it's not real.

"Well, he hasn't crossed a line so far, so I'd say yes." It wasn't that you're trying to defend Luke, you just don't see what he's done so far that deserves defending at all.

Clarisse grunted in response and pulls you back into her arms. You refrain from holding her by placing your palms on her chest. "Wait, put it on me first."

Something clicks behind her eyes like she just remembered about her gift. "Oh, right." You turn around with your back facing her. Clarisse places the pearls over your neck and hooks the back together in one try.

Twisting your body to face her again, you fiddled with the necklace and looked at her for approval. "Well?" She smiled as her fingers came close to your face to brush away the strands of hair covering your cheek. "It fits you."

You let her pull you by the back of your head to kiss her, welcoming her lips with yours.

Not that you'd ever admit it aloud, but having her by your side would always be the real birthday gift to you.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo x reader #dior goodjohn

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luveline · 8 months ago

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Babe congrats on quitting!!!

I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more

R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?

thank you!!

You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk.

“I’m fine.”

“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?”

It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.”

Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too.

James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork.

He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively.

“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.”

“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?”

“It’s nothing.”

James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say.

“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.

You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.”

“What happened?”

You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face.

His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.”

He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.”

You frown at one another. “Why not?”

“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?”

“No,” you mumble.

“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again.

“I’m consistently below average.”

“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.”

Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does.

He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.”

“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.”

“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?”

You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?

When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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sabertoothwalrus · 7 months ago

Text

I'm going to think out loud about the dungeon meshi ages for a sec

I'm going to preface this by saying that this is based on my existing knowledge, and fact checking is difficult because there is A LOT of contentious research out there.

First of all, I think a lot of people come at this from a modern lens, forgetting the context that this is fantasy medieval era. this is fiction. on top of that, this is specifically Ryoko Kui's understanding of medieval era aging. plus fantasy. So before anyone comes at me with a bunch of 'ermmmm actualy's just consider that I don't really care and also it might not matter in this context lol

as far as the "age of maturity" assigned for each race, something I don't see many people talk about is that "teenagers" are a fairly recent concept. For a long time, you were either considered A Kid or Not A Kid. but this doesn't necessarily mean kids were more/less developed then, just our cultural expectations for certain age groups have changed.

Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen is 16. I don't think that means 16 year olds in the dungeon meshi universe are necessarily "more mature" than modern 16 year olds, but moreso that they have more responsibilities. However, things like medicine, smoking, drinking, sun exposure, physical activity, etc all affect age, so it's possible that developmentally they're closer to modern 18 year olds? Izutsumi is 17 (less than two weeks from turning 18, actually), and very much acts like a modern 17 year old.

The age of maturity for half-foots is 14. Chilchuck was 13 when he got married and had his first two children. Even though, at age 29, he's the equivalent of a modern 50 year old, I don't think he was That much more developed at 13 than a tallman. I think if half-foot 14 is equal to tallman 16, then Chilchuck was Pretty Damn Young for a parent LMAO. Even if you're generous and say tallman 16 is a modern 18, he still would've been younger than that.

The long-lived races are interesting. Marcille is obviously a unique case, and not a lot of this applies to her. We do know what Senshi was like as a minor (miner, lol), and he seemed like a modern 15ish, considering he was 36 and dwarf maturity is 40. I think it'd be really interesting to delve into how a culture functions with people being developmentally adolescent for soooooo long. Imagine middle school lasting 20 years. that would fucking suck. I suppose it makes sense why long-lived races are so patronizing.

Moving onto lifespans, I want to emphasize that they're average lifespans. Even in the manga, they say some half-foots live to 100, it's just rare. So it's less that a tallman 60 year old is "older" than a modern 60 year old, it's that it's easier to keep people alive for longer nowadays. Modern medicine is a BIG contributor. Dental health as well, considering how much your health is affected by your diet (and how much the action of chewing alone aids in digestion). Curious to know what the FUCK elven dentistry is like.

It also makes me wonder if half-foots would have a longer average lifespan if they weren't like, used for bait and treated so poorly, but half-foot 29 does seem to be middle-aged for half-foots. so who knows!

In that vein, I don't know if I can see Mithrun quite making it to 400 😬 like, his experience as a dungeon lord took a lot out of him quite literally, and he's doing exceptionally well despite it! I imagine he'd eventually start to develop a lot of heart problems if he doesn't have them already. Perhaps early-onset dementia. His memory seems still quite intact (he corrects Kabru on his story's accuracy) and he doesn't act like, lobotomized. He doesn't seem forgetful or confused, and he has a sense of humor/sarcasm still. It's mostly his task initiation that's been affected.

I almost want to say that mana affinity could affect long-lived races' lifespans, except dwarves have very poor tolerance for mana, so it's probably not that.

okay anyway I didn't really have a point to this post so I'm just gonna end my rambling here

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers

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imrllytootiredforthis · 2 years ago

Text

stray kids reaction to pegging for the first time:

a/n: ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes, it isn't proofread and probably won't be😭

and as always, 18+, minors dni

Chan:

Okay first let’s talk about how it was brought up,

you probably have to bring it up first

And his reaction? He’d act all blushy and embarrassed, surprised in an almost comical way

like “I-i mean i gu-guess, only if you wanted too tho...”

“I do want to, but also if your gonna watch that typa porn and don’t want me to see baby, delete the browser history”

lmao💀

He’d also say he wants take it really slow, and i mean really slow

talking about how the first time he just wants you to feel around him there, test out the waters but not penetrate him yet, give him a handjob or whatever as you do that

the next time he wants just your tongue,

the next your finger,

then two fingers,

pretty much working up in size slowly until you actually use a strap

he’s very cautious about the whole thing in the beginning, so worried and nervous that it's gonna hurt/he's not gonna enjoy it/you're not gonna enjoy it

but the second you’re actually doing it, ‘feeling around’ as he had called it, he’s already begging for more

yeah, you’d ended up doing all of the carefully week long process he’d set up, every little step, in a single night

The second your hands are on his hole, lube already warmed on your hand, fingers all slippery-

he’s begging for more, shoving his hips backwards in hopes of enticing you more

gripping the sheets, trying to reach for you, heavy breathing and flushed face,

baby boy wasn't expecting for it to feel this good

practically breathless as he pleads with you to just push your fingers inside him

and when you do, he’s going cross-eyed with pleasure, legs instinctually wrap around your hips, pushing you further into him

He can barely even believe how good it feels and how he hasn’t tried this sooner

don’t even get me started on how he reacts when you find his prostate

he’d probably cum just from that and then start begging you to actually fuck him, whining in a half-dazed mess about how he needs it, needs you, needs more

Felix:

All I can say,

Is that he’d pretend to be SO surprised, pretend he had no idea you were gonna bring this up,

Like he hadn’t been dropping hints and waiting for you to smarten up and decipher them all this time

Kinda gives it away though because when you bring it up he’s nodding eagerly, jumping on you immediately

Because you made him wait so long for this

You whisper to him, reminding him that you still need to actually buy the strap

No you don’t.

Surprise, surprise, baby boy’s been ready for this for a long time

He’s had one stashed under your bed in a pretty box with a perfect little red bow for practically forever

(Used for lonely nights on his own and dirty fantasies for a little angel such as himself)

Now he’s obviously used it on himself many times before this, experimenting and dreaming and wishing you’d walk in on him

But it’s nothing compared to when you do it

It feels so much better when you do it

He can’t even contain himself, practically shrieking in pleasure

I’d actually advise you to gag him at that point, he’d look pretty with a ball gag but the way his eyes roll back if you shove your underwear in his mouth is delectably sinful

His nails claw into your back, legs hooking up and around your hips, already drooling from the first thrust

Is obsessed with missionary or the mating press, pretty much any position where you’re face to face and he can see you

Not that he’s doing much seeing with his eyes rolled back

I can’t stop thinking about if you’re wearing a necklace or something, with a charm or whatever tf it’s called

(searched it up and it’s a pendant)

He’d watch it, swaying in front of his face, swinging with every harsh thrust and then he can’t help himself but to lean up and wrap his pretty, soft lips around it

By the end he’s a mess, ruined beyond belief

practically dumb as you try to clean him all up, shivering in sensitivity while also begging for more

baby's got an overstimulation kink 100% and that obvious translates to wanting you to fuck him absolutely dumb, making him cum over and over again until he has nothing left to give, a babbling dumb pretty mess<3

and afterwards,

you’re wondering if it was really worth it playing dumb for so long, pretending you didn’t notice his obvious hinting at everything

Hyunjin:

Baby boy just wants to be filled up, just wants to fucked hard and fast until he’s an incoherent mess

And then he wants you to take pictures of him all ruined

wants you add more photos into the albums in your phone

add to all those compromising photos of hyunjin in a plethora of different positions, with different toys and ropes and you name it, add some more of him sucking on a strap or getting pounded

wants you to send him videos that he doesn't even remember filming, getting ruined with a little message under it saying

'you look so cute<3'

But it’s a fantasy

Only a fantasy

A fantasy that he only lets himself indulge in when he’s alone and pent-up and can’t help but pull out the lube and finger himself

Wishing it was your fingers, wishing it was bigger, wishing that it was more

That you were whispering in his ear, talking to him about how pretty he looked under you

Falling so deep that he can almost believe that’s it’s real

feeling so high off of how good it feels, unable to hold back the noises coming out high and needy as he shoves a pillow under his hips, humping it all the while he continues to scissor his long fingers in his ass

He so, so loud, calling your name, begging for you to go faster-harder

you’re out, you’re not around and no one else is he's allowed to be this loud

But, you are in fact not out, you came back because you forgot something or other and you walk in on this sight

Jesus fuck,

He makes a shocked sound, scared out of him mind when he finally sees you, freaking out and covering himself with the covers,

Beginning to cry quickly from the already emotionally-vulnerable moment he was having

You soothe him, rubbing a hand over his sweat-soaked back, hushing his tears,

And then pull out the strap you’d been specifically saving for this occasion

He’s gonna go wild,

Seems to lose all composure the second you’re inside of him, his brain completely melting,

Not a single coherent thought in there for the time being

Just filthy little noises for more, for harder, for faster, he cannot get enough

And then when he’s almost about to come he starts to cry, long arms pulling you into him,

Burying his face into your throat, whimpering for you to please, please, please breed him in the neediest, littlest voice e v e r

Minho:

Lee Minho

The Lee Minho, wanting to be fucked like a little bitch?

Those where actually his exact words when you found the dildo he’d hidden in your closet,

It sure wasn’t yours, you think you’d know if it was🤨

So who’s could it be?

Other than the only other person living in your house, the only other one that would know to hide their shit in your closet, under the mountain of clothing there

But it was a cleaning day

So you decided to go through it

And found it

Not your’s, but it’s in your stuff

“Minho! Is this yours?”

Stares at it for a solid ten seconds, you can almost see the gears turning in his head, almost hear the bullshit excuse he’s coming up with and is gonna use in approximately 5 seconds if you don’t shut him up quickly

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

That renders him speechless

“….😦”, “no?🥴w-what? What even made you come up with that idea?🙄”

“😐...really?”

“Please do.”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

He’d try so hard to not be vocal, biting down on his lips, covering his mouth with his arm, clutching a pillow to his face

You remove each one, one after another until finally, finally you get to hear his cute noises

His little mewls and moans that follow right after

His quiet keens and grunted out groans

He loves hates it when you comment on them, cooing about how cute he sounds while you rub your hand tantalizingly over his inner thighs

In fact, just touching his thighs might be enough to make him cum alone

but that’s something to explore another day

You gotta be careful too

Because there is absolutely no way that he doesn’t scratch or bite

Starts off with his lips latched on your collarbone in an effort to not scream, his hands holding onto your shoulders for support, his body reacting with every rough thrust

And it ends off with his bunny teeth digging into your skin so hard that suddenly iron taste fills his mouth, his nails dragging down your back so hard that the flesh tears

Aftercare consists of him sitting behind you, disinfecting and bandaging up the shallow cuts and scrapes down your back, neck and collarbone

But you don’t mind in the moment

Probably because you, like anyone, can’t help but he entranced by the man under you

Begging to be marked, to be fucked harder, to be yours

Only yours.

When you hit his prostate all he can let out is a strangled noise set between a keen and a cry, struggling to keep his grip on reality as you repeatedly ram into it him over and over,

“Good kitty.”

And then he’s cumming all over his chest, untouched

Seungmin:

“No.”

That’s it when you ask him

Straight up no, end of conversation, that’s all, goodbye

“…Okay, can I ask why?”

Doesn’t answer you, refuses to talk about the subject, simply not talking when you ask him

But one day he gets curious, not in a horny way or anything, just wondering why you keep bringing it up

Queue pulling up a very nsfw website and searching up pegging

He scrolls through a couple of videos before settling on one

Through the entirety of the 12 minute video all he can imagine is himself as the squirming, moaning man being fucked

and you as the person standing above him, taunting him, asking him if he likes this, likes being fucked like this

The session ends with him in the shower, fingers exploring new places that he had no idea could bring him such pleasure

And as soon as he’s done he’s groaning, cursing himself for not agreeing earlier

Because how the hell is he supposed to bring this up to you?

He can’t find the words, find the way to tell you,

So he doesn’t use words

And you come home one night, calling out for your puppy to come on out, asking him where he is

The only reply you receive is a small “here!” from your bedroom

And fuck, good thing that boy is pretty because he does not need words

Dressed up in some pretty black lacy panties and a sheer robe that you’re pretty sure you bought awhile ago before it disappeared mysteriously

He sits up against the headboard, watching you with lustful eyes

And there, beside him on the bed is a dildo he ordered, the harness for it already attached

You look at it before back at him as he slides down the bed, right in front of you and lays back, spreading his legs

“Fuck me?”

And how can you say no?

He finds out fairly quickly that he REALLY loves it

And also REALLY loves doggy

Jisung:

He brought it up very, very soon

Like, probably on your first date he’s already telling you he likes to be fucked in the ass

or simply just straight up asking you to do it, pulling out a strap from the bag he brought

Promising you it’s clean

And asking if you wanna go to the bathroom

Baby boy is shameless

He’s watched tons of porn, fantasized about being the whining, whimpering boys tied up with a hot dom fucking the absolute shit out of them until they’re incoherent

He’s asked other people to do it to him too

They’ve all said no☹️

And then he finds you,

You who is very open to the idea, at least halfway tempted by the bathroom idea and the other half thinking that there is so many classier ways to go about it

So you say no

And he pouts

But when you bring home that night and praise and degrade him to the point of tears

Well, he supposes he can be patient

He asks you at least once every day, hoping for the time you finally say yes

But you smirk every time, pulling him close and making him shiver before whispering “no.” in his ear

You say it so many times that the one time he asks and you finally say yes it takes him a second to actually comprehend it

To comprehend that what came out of your mouth wasn’t a no

And when you finally do it you’re gonna bet that he’s loud

Like really fucking loud

Gotta-gag-him-or-the-neighbours-will-file-noise-complaints kinda loud

His voice gets so high too, hitting all them high notes🤭

He’d wanna be as close as physically possible, wrapping his arms around your neck, his legs hooked around your waist, pulling your entire body weight onto him

It makes it a lot harder for you to thrust into him but the way he has such easy access to your neck and ears

Whispering the nastiest shit in the entire history of the world

Boy’s got a mouth on him from all that dirty talk in porn

And he does it all while breathlessly nipping at your neck, squeaking when you hit that sensitive spot inside of him

He’d have the cutest fucked out face

Eyes crossed, drool dripping down his chin, tears spilling over his flushed cheeks

But you’d literally have to wrestle to let him to let go of you so you can see him

Little hiccups and gasps are all he can make out as you coo to him about how adorable he looks

All fucked out and ruined by you

If you wipe up his cum and feed it back to him you could probably get him to cum a second time completely untouched

Baby boy’s never gonna wanna do anything else ever again,

Completely cock drunk and completely obsessed

Changbin:

He seems like he’d bring it up,

Extremely shy all the while, muttering something under his breath that you can’t hear

“Pardon baby, what’d you say?

Poor binnie, he’s be all blushy and nervous

*clears his throat* “u-um, could you maybe…peg me?”

HES SO FUCKING ADORABLE😭😭

Anyway,

You’d obviously agree because why would you actually ever say no?

You’d quickly order all the things you’d need and the day they arrive he just happened to not be home

Leaving you the perfect chance to surprise your baby

He’d come in, all tired from the gym and needy, just wanting to let you take care of him

He comes in and all the lights are off, he furrows his brows, setting his bag down and calling out your name about to start flicking the lights on,

When he sees candlelight coming from down the hall

He follows it am the way to the bedroom where the entire room is lit by candles,

And then there you are, lying on the bed, looking up at him

“Welcome home binnie,”

He's confused but you pull him into a kiss and he can’t seem to think of anything other than you as your fingers skim over his body, feeling over the bulge in his pants, your tongue slipping into his mouth

He’s panting by the time you pull away

“I gotta little gift for you…well maybe not so little.”

He practically gapes as you pull it from out of a box he failed to miss on the bed behind you

You rub his hand soothingly, gauging his reaction “if you don’t want to do it anymore that’s fine, you can always chan-“

“-I want it.”

You smile and spin your positions so now he’s the one with the bed behind him

And then you shove him down

“Just tell me if you ever wanna stop baby, I won’t be mad, I promise.”

Fuck him hard and rough

Manhandle him, switching his positions every so often,

He obviously likes missionary and you get the perfect view of his eyes rolling back

Doggy is fun, he gets so much more vocal because of how much deeper you can hit inside of him, but you don’t get to see him

I recommend next time placing him in front of a mirror, not only so you can see how pretty he looks when he’s drooling but also so he can too

gets more ruined from seeing how own reflection

Riding is one of your favourites, watching the poor thing moan, trying to go faster, rougher, hit that one place inside of him but he just needs you to do it

Letting him beg and try and get oh-so desperate before he starts to cry, pleading for you to just fuck him

FUCKING HIM AGAISNT THE WALL

HDJDDGJSKDHHD

MANHANDLING HIM UP AGAINST IT, MAKING HIM FEEL SO SMALL AND BLUSH

BEFORE ABSOLUTELY RUINING HIM

*ahem*

Sorry, that was a bit overboard

I also have a fantasy abt pegging him at the gym but that’s also conversation for another time

IN:

Okay, but I really wanna corrupt him…

Innocent little innie, you have to teach him everything, show him how to make you feel good

Every time you introduce something new to him he’s like “😧people do that??”

And so one day when you pull out a strap, asking him if you can peg him,

well baby boy is completely clueless

But he remembers how good you’ve made him feel, pleasure he didn’t even know the human body was capable of feeling

He agrees with little to no convincing

Ready for whatever you have in plan for him, ready to be swallowed whole by all that is you and everything you make him feel

Sweet doe eyes looking up at you, glassy with sensitivity, wide with wanting

He’d never imagine that he could feel so good filled up

Never thought your fingers scissoring inside him, stretching him open and preparing him for your strap could feel so mind-achingly good

Enough to make his glossy eyes fall shut, for his hands to grip onto the fabric of your shirt, mouth open with small breathy whines filling the room

God, when you press your fingers against his prostate he swears he can see stars bursting across his vision

He can barely think, barely let out the keen that reverberates through his throat, barely breathe

It feels so, so good and he can feel himself melting

But that’s just with your fingers

Once you’ve deemed him prepared enough you pull out, smirk curling at your lips at the whimper he lets out in protest

That quickly shifts into a gasp when you push into him

Goodness fuck, sweet little innie, voice small and shaking,

Hoarse and cracking

“…please~”

Switching positions so he sits in your lap while you lean against the headboard of the bed

Watching his little pants and flushed cheeks,

Drool leaking from the corner of his mouth as he tries his very best not to go completely and utterly insane with how good it feels,

And how much deeper it goes in this new position

Every little shift and movement pressing the head against that sensitive spot inside of him

He’s so needy and desperate he rides you hard and fast, whining when even then it’s not enough, clinging to you like a lifeline

You watch with a bated breath, eyeing each time he moves up,

Unable to tear your attention yo where he teases you and himself, pulling up so just the tip is inside of him before sinking down just as quick, moaning all the while he’s stretched out again, the entire length sliding inside him with ease

Gasping in frustration as his thighs begin to burn and cramp from exertion

Whining as he paws at you, burying his face into your neck, muttering with a shaky whisper to please fuck him

Your hands tease over his body, ghosting over his hips, feeling him quiver on top of you

Before you finally give in

He practically screams when you flip him over again, starting up a hammering pace that he can barely keep up with

All he can do is mewl and whimper, clutching the sheets and letting his eyes roll into the back of his head

“Good baby, doing so good, just keep doing that.”

That’s his breaking point

Looking at him all fucked out and adorable

You can only groan and kiss his messy lips, red from being bitten, shiny with saliva

And think this was all because of you

a/n: btw, if anyone wants to send me in requests for mtl, reactions or hcs i'd love to do them-they're just sm fun to write!

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dearhargrove · 7 days ago

Text

summary A sleepy morning with cuddly Sam.

word count 820

There's few things you're always ready to spend money on. One of them is a funfair. The overall vibe, the attractions, the food and just the nostalgia of being a kid is exactly the reason you loved them so much. So, when you were out a few days ago and saw posters all over town advertising an upcoming funfair you already marked your calendar.

Today is a free day; no case, no research to be done – nothing. And also the day of the funfair. You're a bit embarrassed over just how excited you are, barely able to fall asleep yesterday and now awake at seven in the morning. You desperately try to go back to sleep so as not to disturb Sam, who's deep asleep next to you with his hair spread out around his head like a halo and his left arm snug around you.

But your attempt to keep calm seems to have failed when he groans and squints at you, “Baby?” he slurs half-awake. You wince apologetically and turn onto your side, “Sorry, didn't mean to wake you,” you whisper back.

He mumbles something incorrigible and then yawns heartily, free hand pushing hair out of his face before falling back into his stomach. “'s okay, hun,” he mumbles to stop you from feeling guilty and turns his head, smiling tiredly.

“We should sleep some more, it's barely eight in the morning, Sam..” he just waves his hand in dismissal and heaves himself onto his side, supported on his elbow. You can see the slight redness in his eyes from just waking up but his soft smile distracts you anyway.

“Why are you awake this early, pretty girl?” he lowly muses, letting his other hand rest on your cheek, thumb running under your eye. The pet name paired with the soft actions and the sight of him makes you melt and scoot forward to tangle your legs between his, throwing an arm over his waist.

“I'm excited,” you admit, sheepish as you push the hand on his back under his shirt to warm it up and at the same time give him a back rub. A soft frown of confusion settles on his face – which you immediately soothe away with a thumb smoothing out the wrinkle between his neat brows – and he makes a soft ‘oh’ sound.

“Excited for what? We don't have any plans today?” You can see the flicker of dread on his face as he passes through the possibility of a forgotten date or anniversary, making you snort softly. “We do. I made plans for us.” He raises his brows but doesn't intervene, letting you finish explaining. “There's a funfair in town.. I really want to go there with you and Dean.”

You bite your lip as you await his reaction, not expecting at all when he just snorts and pulls you even closer, pressing a kiss to your head. “That's why you've been in such a good mood?” he chuckles, bemused.

You pout a bit at his humorous reaction, making him lean down to kiss you shortly, “Don't pout. I wasn't mocking you, sweetheart. Of course we'll go with you.”

Grinning, you pull him into another kiss, this time deeper but still rushed from the excitement coursing through you. He chases after your lips when you pull away too early for his liking, simply pushing you down into the mattress with one big hand when you attempt to squirm away.

“We've got plenty of time before we can go.” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping there once before moving down lower to your throat and leaving similar small bites on your soft skin. He's making sure not to mark you up too much, instead pulling the collar of your shirt down to decorate your collarbones and shoulders with actual love bites and hickeys.

Sighing in mock annoyance you slip your hand out of his shirt and into his hair, tugging at the long strands which just makes him grunt in contentment.

You close your eyes again and play with his soft hair while he leaves marks all over you, soothing each new one with a bout of kisses. His arm is tight enough around your waist that you know he intends for you to lay still and take whatever he'll give – which you don't mind in the least.

After a few minutes he stops and lays his head on your chest, tip of his nose a bit cold from the room being chilly as he tucks it against your throat to keep breathing in your perfume and natural scent.

“Back to sleep?” you guess quietly, already pulling the duvet higher around his shoulders and sinking your hand back into those brown locks to scratch at his scalp the way he loves. He grunts in acknowledgement, arm momentarily tightening around you.

“Good idea.”

#supernatural #jared padalecki #jared padalecki x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #moose #supernatural cw #supernatural x reader

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skelliko · 6 months ago

Note

Hey skelli! could u write random hcs about rindou and ran as tn's best friends using school theme? If u can, of course nd thank u!

Rindou & Ran Haitani |-° being your best friend's

• being best friends with the Haitani brothers means no one will attempt to bother you. They're basically your protectors/ escape card in almost any situation involving another person

• encourages you to ditch class and roam around the hallways and other places that they had discovered on school grounds

• in some classes ran is forced to sit at the front of the class because of his poor eye sight, other times he has to peek over your desk to copy down what's on the board

• being best friends with the Haitians means constant trips to detention and constant complaints by the teachers cause of skipping detention.

- if something is done behind the teachers back and no one snitches, the teach immediately assumes that it's one of you three even despite trying your best to prove that it wasn't. half of the time y'all are framed

• the Haitians are actually pretty educated, majority of the times their calm in class and it's just that their gang fame and title that always makes them be perceived as a stereotypical 'delinquent that doesn't do well in school'

• rindou somehow always knows the drama that goes on between everyone, every week he always has something new to add on to the previous information that he had gotten or something completely different about a person that you wouldn't expect

• friendly banter but also be prepared to somehow get humiliated either way

• Rindou secretly keeps one earbud in his ear in lessons to listen to music. he has his wired earphones inside of his sleeve and his hand against his face where he then hides the earbud under his hand/hair

• notes will be thrown onto your desk in the middle of class, thinking that something would be written in it you'd open it but instead there's just a childish drawing of you that ran did whilst he was bored

• you have a crush on someone in school? don't worry cause you have ran and rindou to either help you with getting close to your crush or completely ruining it.

• despite ran being practically engaged to his bed and always sleeping- he still complains how tired he is in the mornings and trust, that guy is not a morning person so he gets pissed off at the loud annoying kids that are already running in the halls.

- ran is a fast paced guy whereas Rindou likes to take his time with romance, so asking ran for advice he'd probably tell you to immediately ask them out. but with Rindou he'd tell you to do something that's easier said than done "just talk to them"

- whereas for Rindou despite him being sleep deprived from his lack of sleep routine, he complains the least in the mornings and just goes along with the mornings. though the darkness under his eyes are certainly there under some bright light

• due to the Haitians being popular among the people, there's definitely some thirsty people for them. meaning you'd hear many different stories on how obsessive someone got, how they broke someone's heart, and how much privilege they get. sometimes you even get to read confession letter before they do.

- but cause of your connection to them, you'd be asked favours for other people in terms of "can you tell rindou/ran..." "does rindou/ran...?" "do you know if he...?" ect.

• they always got some sort of insult to say about the teacher, but it's okay cause no one likes them. their insults are pretty creative too, makes you not want to know what they'd say about you if y'all never got along

• ran sometimes purposely 'forgets' his money/food just to steal you's and rindou's lunches instead

• the threatening jokes about telling everyone an embarrassing story about either of you circles around you three on a weekly baisis

• you had a failed relationship? your ex will definitely wish they had done better. it may seem like a good thing but anyone inside of the school that knows your friendly relationship with the haitani brothers; it'll cause some people to avoid you and not in a good way, guess thats a downside.

• the best way to get rindou annoyed immediately would be if you get his glasses dirty by simply pressing your finger print against the lens. its better when he's not wearing them cause it's be easier to smudge them due to him having good reflexes when it comes to people getting too close to him

• little play fights here and there in the hallway that makes the three of you to dash it down the halls and get complaints from the teachers from how loud your echoed running is. it's not often, but when it happens it's hilarious and it usually starts off with some teasing.

• if you're not smart in a subject that they're smart in then be prepared to be teased whilst you copy down their answers of the work you didn't do, cause of their comments you gotta concentrate real hard and ignore their comments to copy the work down, but then one of them would playfully move their book/page across to irritate you

• their handwriting fluctuates a lot in school, sometimes you gotta ask what kind of curse are they trying to write down in their note book. but outside of school where they're not rushed or bored out of their mind- it's pretty neat

• sometimes fights break out between the Haitani brothers and some other delinquents trying to aim for the top, meaning your either pulled/pushed away from the scene or you manage to join in but that's only if it's in a large amount (2 Vs 20) but if it's a small amount (2 Vs 5) then itd be over within a minute and yall go back to doing whatever you were doing before

- it sometimes does ruin some plans that you guys have made causing some shared complaints and irritation

♡---

#tokyo revengers #rindou haitani x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani #ran haitani #haitani brothers #tokyo revengers haitani brothers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #rindou haitani fluff #ran haitani fluff #haitani brothers headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #rindou headcanons #ran headcanons

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livwritesstuff · 10 months ago

Text

It’s uncharacteristically warm outside for late-winter in Hawkins, Indiana.

It’s 2004, and the whole entire Party is back in Hawkins to celebrate Jim and Joyce’s fifteenth wedding anniversary (it’s actually closer to their sixteenth by now, but they’ve all well and truly entered that phase of adulthood where planning things is next to impossible), and it’s the first time they’ve all been in one room since…honestly, Steve doesn’t even know when. Since Lucas’s wedding in ‘99, maybe.

Everyone is inside unwinding after dinner. Steve can hear them from where he’s sitting outside on the front deck gently rocking the porch swing Hop had installed years ago with one foot, a now-empty bottle resting on the unfinished pine floor by the other.

The front door of Jim and Joyce’s house quietly opens and Steve looks over as El steps onto the porch, closing the door behind her as soft as she’d opened it.

She pauses, her eyes turning wary as they slide off of him and onto the baby girl drifting asleep in his arms (his and Eddie’s littlest baby, Robbie – the older baby, Moe, who’s nearly three so not really a baby anymore, is inside still probably being doted on by all her aunts and uncles).

Even in her early thirties there are so many ways El is still just like the little kid Steve met back in 1984. At the same time though, she’s completely changed.

“Doin’ okay, Ellie?” he asks gently.

She nods.

“It’s getting loud,” El tells him, “Someone put on Jeopardy.”

Yeah, that’ll do it these days – older and wiser they may all be, but any kind of trivia is still a vice for pretty much the entire Party.

“Well, you’re welcome to join us out here for as long as you like,” Steve replies.

He knows El is a little apprehensive around babies still, same as she is with cats and puppies – really anything small and vulnerable that might have been used against her many years ago, so he half-expects her to go back inside.

But she comes over and sits down next to him on the porch swing anyway and for a while, both of them are quiet.

Robbie exhales a satisfied snuffling noise that tells Steve she’s well and truly asleep.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees El’s hand twitch, like she was going to raise it but then stopped herself.

“Can I?” she asks tentatively.

“‘Course,” Steve tells her, and he watches as El runs the tips of her fingers over the wisps of soft hair on Robbie’s head.

“How old is she now?”

“Three months,” he replies, “Four in a week or so.”

“And she’s…she’s doing…good?” she asks, and there’s something so El in her tone, the same tone she always uses when she’s tip-toeing her way through something that, to her, is foreign territory.

“Mm-hm. She’s good.”

El nods.

“Your daughters are lucky,” she says, her brown eyes trained wistfully on Robbie even as she pulls her hand away.

Steve thinks he knows what she’s getting at, but before he can ask, she keeps going.

“She’s gonna live her whole life never having to wonder if she’s loved or if she matters,” El says, “She won’t have to wonder because it’s always true. That’s special. I love Hop, and everything I have that is good is because of him, but…I still wish I could have had what you and Eddie are giving her too.”

And Steve knows exactly what she means because he feels the same way, because he thinks about it all the time, every time he thinks about his daughters and the way they are his entire world like he should have been to his own parents and yet never was, every time he thinks about himself and his father and his father’s father and knows it ends with him.

He’s not sure how to put any of that into words.

It’s El though, and he’s never really had to put those kinds of things into words with El, so he decides to just nod and settle back into the porch swing with his friend at his side and his daughter asleep in his arms and the faint noise of the people he loves most carried over them on the breeze of a warm winter evening.

#thinking about el on this fine thursday #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steve harrington #el hopper #steddie dads #not sure who the target audience of this one is tbh #subtle dilf steve bc i couldn't help myself

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blackenedsnow · 3 months ago

Note

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

#beetlejuice #keatlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #keatlejuice x reader #beetlejuice movie #x reader #oneshot #ask #request #fanfic #tim burton x reader #tim burton

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cielie-voss · 1 month ago

Text

The guinea pig whisperer

Eddie Munson x fem!reader (and her guinea pigs)

Summary: When your family needs your help, you turn to your best friend Eddie Munson to take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Couldn't be that difficult, right?

Warnings: use of y/n, but other than that none I think

Wordcount: 4.4k

Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps

Masterlist

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

“Okay, guys, we’ve got this,” Eddie said softly as he knelt down, trying to convince himself as much as the little creatures in front of him.

“We totally got this.”

Who was he kidding? He totally didn’t have this. What had possessed him to agree to this quest?

As the little furballs scurried back into their houses, teeth chattering in disapproval of the strange guy invading their space, Eddie leaned back against the rustling beanbag and sighed.

Eddie loved animals—really, he did. Sometimes, he even loved them more than people. But most animals didn’t seem to love him back. He was usually too loud, too hectic, too fidgety, and he ended up scaring them away.

“Come on, I’m not a bad guy,” he tried to convince the crested guinea pig that was cautiously sticking its nose out of the door, sniffling and clearly unimpressed with Eddie's presence.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, okay? You’re the one who needs special care. I’m just doing what I’ve been told,” Eddie said, as if reasoning with the little ball of fur would somehow help. Did the guinea pig even understand him? Probably not—it’s just a guinea pig. Guinea pigs couldn’t understand humans, right?

When you had asked him to take care of your guinea pigs for a few days while you were out of town, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard. Feed them a couple of times a day, refill their water bottle—how complicated could it be?

But, oh boy, was he wrong.

You were the most generous person he’d ever met, always caring for every creature that crossed your path. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always had special needs animals in your care. Abandoned rabbits, blind cats, deaf dogs, birds with deformed wings, abused animals—you always tried to give these innocent souls a place of refuge.

The other day, you got a call from your family, needing your help with your grandma’s funeral. In a panic, you reached out to Eddie, asking if he could take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Knowing Eddie’s kind nature and willingness to help, you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Elvis and the other guinea pigs in your absence.

Who could possibly refuse such a request?

Certainly not Eddie.

Before you left, you handed him a list of instructions on how to take care of the guinea pigs, especially Elvis, your oldest guinea pig who needed special attention due to his dental issues.

Veggies cut in thin slices.

He eats pretty slowly, so make sure the others don’t steal his food.

Make sure nothing gets stuck where his teeth are growing back.

Nothing complicated, right? But he hadn’t expected Elvis to be such a diva. When you led him into the living room, where the huge guinea pig cage took up half the space, the other guinea pigs had excitedly approached the glass pane enclosing the cage. But Elvis stayed at the back, laying majestically in his snuggle sack, eyeing Eddie warily, clearly unimpressed by his presence.

As soon as you left and Eddie tried to introduce himself, Elvis sprinted into one of the wooden houses, out of Eddie’s reach. Realizing this task might be more complicated than he’d thought, Eddie sat down and observed the guinea pigs for a while. Maybe they just needed to get used to his presence? Maybe they were just shy and needed to see that he wasn’t a threat?

He glanced at the list you gave him: Treats are in the drawer next to the cage.

Treats sounded like a good idea. He grabbed a handful of pea flakes and tried to lure the guinea pigs out, carefully whispering reassuring words to them as if they could understand him.

Bit by bit, the first noses peeked out of the houses, sniffing the delicious treats in his hand. But it took some more time before the first guinea pig dared to approach Eddie, sneaking up to him cautiously. Excited, Eddie held his breath, freezing like a statue so as not to scare the fragile, timid creature. Just as he was struggling to hold his breath any longer, the guinea pig grabbed one of the flakes and, with its head held high, ran back into one of the houses.

He knew he had to be patient to gain their trust, but no matter what he tried, Elvis wouldn’t come out, making the task nearly impossible.

The rest of the day, Eddie spent in the living room, switching between the couch and the bean bag next to the cage. Whenever he moved around, he made sure to be as quiet as possible. Sitting still was something Eddie wasn’t really good at—he was always fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on.

After a while, he decided to read something to them. Maybe the sound of his voice would help the piggies get used to him? At least it would help him stay still. He figured it didn’t matter what he read aloud, so he inspected the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.

“Romeo and Juliet?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for approval.

“No, maybe… What about Dracula? No, that’s probably too scary for you guys.” His eyes scanned the other titles. “Red Dragon? No, not appropriate. The Shining? Or maybe Carrie?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up one of the books and turned it around to read the blurb.

“Goddamn, these are some pretty bloody and violent books for such a gentle girl,” he muttered, surprised by your choice in literature. He put Cujo back on the shelf before finding Howl’s Moving Castle.

That might do the trick.

To lure the piggies out of their houses, he placed a bowl of thinly sliced vegetables in the middle of the cage and sat down on the bean bag, reading to them in a soft voice. But still, Elvis remained stubborn, refusing to come out of his house.

“Damn, you really are one headstrong little guy, huh?” Eddie peeked through the entrance of Elvis’s hiding place. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna make sure you get enough food.”

They locked eyes in a silent standoff—two stubborn souls, neither willing to give in. Eddie cocked his head, looking at Elvis with pleading puppy eyes.

“Come on, dude. Do it for Y/N,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, as he held out his hand, offering some pea flakes. But Elvis simply turned his back on Eddie. Groaning, Eddie leaned back into the bean bag. How was he supposed to take care of this little guy?

The next couple of hours were a trial of patience for Eddie. Bit by bit the other guinea pigs started to become comfortable around Eddie - accepting the neatly cut veggie strips he offered them in an attempt to gain their trust. They even let him touch them and ate right out of his hand after some time. But Elvis? Hell no. There was no sign he started to trust Eddie. No matter what Eddie tried - pea flakes, grapes, cucumber or even blueberries - Elvis wouldn’t even look at him.

Slowly Eddie became frustrated, even anxiously because Elvis simply wouldn’t eat anything other than hay. After countless rejections Eddie searched through your kitchen, not actually knowing what he was looking for. He let out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, about to give up, when finally he found a big bush of parsley taking up the space of the kitchen's windowsill. “Okay, one last try” he declared and gently picked a few twigs.

With the parsley in hand Eddie sat down on the bean bag again. “Hopefully this’ll work” he said before he tried to lure Elvis out of his hiding place. And miraculously it was working. Slowly Elvis’ nose peeked out of the little plushy tunnel he was hiding in. And it didn’t take long before, paw after paw, he followed the smell of the parsley in Eddie's hand.

“So you’re just like everyone else,” Eddie stated, grinning like an idiot, “Everyone is corruptible, even a guinea pig like you.” Relieved Eddie watched the little guy munch on that parsley. The little triumph filled Eddie with so much pride, he was convinced that there was nothing stopping him from successfully completing this quest. Even though Elvis was still on high alert, inspecting Eddie attentively and freezing every now and then when Eddie dared to move ever so slightly, it was another small step in the right direction, another piece of the puzzle that was earning the trust of these tiny creatures—Elvis, most of all.

Every morning, he would sit by the cage, reading softly from Howl’s Moving Castle, carefully offering treats, and speaking in his gentlest tone. The other guinea pigs had started to warm up to him, now eagerly gathering around whenever they saw or heard him coming. But Elvis remained stubborn, only occasionally poking his nose out to observe the others before retreating back into his hideaway.

Eddie found himself growing more and more determined. There was something about the challenge that made him even more committed to winning Elvis’s trust. Maybe it was because you had entrusted him with such an important task, or maybe it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in the little guy—a fellow outcast, wary of letting others in.

On the third day, a breakthrough happened. Eddie was lying on the floor next to the cage, chin resting on his hands, his voice low and soothing as he read another chapter. He hadn’t noticed at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, Elvis began to inch closer to the entrance of his wooden house. Eddie kept reading, trying not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, Elvis crept out just enough to sniff the air, his tiny whiskers twitching.

Eddie’s heart raced. He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as Elvis cautiously approached the bowl of veggies. The little guy sniffed around, eyes constantly flicking up to keep Eddie in sight. But eventually, he started to nibble on a piece of lettuce, his guard seemingly lowered. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a surge of triumph. Maybe, just maybe, they were slowly starting to understand each other.

But getting Elvis to eat in his presence was one thing; getting him to trust Eddie enough to be touched was another. Every time Eddie tried to reach out, Elvis would dart back into his house, and they would be back to square one. Frustration gnawed at Eddie, but he refused to give up. He tried everything he could think of—different treats, talking to Elvis in even softer tones, staying as still as a statue whenever the guinea pig ventured out. But nothing seemed to work.

One afternoon, after another failed attempt to coax Elvis out, Eddie slumped onto the couch, feeling defeated. He had a sprig of parsley in his hand, the latest in his arsenal of treats, but Elvis wasn’t biting—literally or figuratively. Eddie absentmindedly twirled the parsley between his fingers, thinking about what he might be doing wrong. Then, a thought struck him. He remembered how you had once mentioned that animals, especially small ones like guinea pigs, relied heavily on scent. Maybe Elvis was so attached to you because he associated your scent with safety.

Eddie searched through your apartment until he found a little cupboard in the bathroom, filled with makeup, different sorts of hairspray and a few little flacons of perfume. He stared at it for a moment, the idea forming in his mind. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? But then again, everything else had failed. What did he have to lose?

With a determined sigh, Eddie grabbed the bottle and spritzed a small amount on his hoodie. The familiar scent filled the air, a mix of something floral and earthy, like freshly cut grass. He couldn’t help but smile a little—this was so absurd it just might work.

Feeling a bit silly, but hopeful, Eddie returned to the cage. He gently placed the parsley in front of Elvis’s hideaway and then sat back, waiting. Eventually, Elvis emerged, sniffing the air as usual. But this time, something was different. His tiny nose twitched more rapidly, almost excited, and he stepped out a little farther than usual, his gaze fixed on Eddie. The guinea pig’s hesitation seemed to lessen, and to Eddie’s astonishment, Elvis slowly made his way over to him, stopping just short of where Eddie’s hand rested on the floor.

Eddie’s heart pounded as Elvis sniffed at his hand, clearly intrigued by the scent. He stayed perfectly still, allowing the little creature to take his time. Finally, with what seemed like a deep breath of resolve, Elvis nudged the parsley with his nose and then—almost miraculously—climbed into Eddie’s lap. Eddie was so shocked he barely dared to move. But Elvis, after a moment of careful observation, seemed to decide that this strange new version of Eddie was okay, settling down on his lap.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gently, he raised a hand and started to stroke Elvis’s soft fur. This time, the guinea pig didn’t flinch or run. Instead, he let out a tiny, contented squeak, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs as Eddie continued to pet him. Eddie grinned like a fool, feeling like he’d just won the lottery.

Eddie had settled into a routine with the guinea pigs over the next couple of days. He'd spend his mornings preparing their veggies, carefully slicing them just the way you had shown him, then patiently coaxing Elvis out of his hideaway with a mix of treats, soft words and the scent of your perfume. Though Elvis had finally started to warm up to him, Eddie still found himself with plenty of downtime as the guinea pigs quietly went about their business.

That afternoon, as the guinea pigs dozed off after their midday snack, Eddie found himself drawn to his guitar, which he had brought along just in case he needed something to pass the time. He hadn’t played much since he’d been focused on the guinea pigs, but the itch to strum a few chords was starting to get to him. So, he grabbed his guitar and lay down on the floor, fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.

He started with something soft, just a few random chords, not really thinking about what he was playing. The sound of the guitar strings filled the room, blending with the soft rustle of hay from the guinea pig cage. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling the familiar comfort of the guitar beneath his fingers.

But as he relaxed into the music, his fingers instinctively drifted into a familiar riff—Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The heavy, thrumming notes reverberated through the room, and Eddie couldn’t help but get into it, his fingers moving more confidently across the strings as he lost himself in the music.

He was just starting to really enjoy himself when he noticed something strange. The peaceful quiet of the room had been interrupted by a series of sharp, disapproving clicks. Eddie paused mid-riff and looked over at the cage, where all five guinea pigs were wide awake, teeth chattering in what could only be described as intense disapproval.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, half-amused, half-offended. He plucked another string experimentally, and the chattering grew louder, the guinea pigs shifting restlessly in their cage.

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What, you don’t like Metallica? I thought you guys had better taste than that." But the guinea pigs weren’t having it—every time he strummed a chord, their chatter became more insistent, as if they were staging a tiny, furry protest.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. No Metallica,” he conceded, setting his guitar aside with a grin. “Guess you’re more into the easy-listening stuff, huh?” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’m getting critiqued by a bunch of guinea pigs,” he muttered to himself, a smile still tugging at his lips.

The room fell back into a peaceful silence, the guinea pigs settling down once more as Eddie let the moment wash over him. He was still smiling, even as he turned his thoughts back to the challenge of getting Elvis to trust him completely.

A few minutes later, he picked up his guitar again, but this time, instead of metal, he gently strummed a softer melody—something calm and soothing, more to the guinea pigs' taste. The chatter subsided, and Eddie felt a small sense of victory as he noticed them relaxing again.

As the days passed, Elvis began to venture closer and closer to Eddie. The once hesitant little guinea pig now seemed less afraid of the strange man who had taken over his home. Eddie noticed the subtle changes—how Elvis would come out of his hiding spot more often, how he’d eat his veggies with less hesitation, and how he’d sometimes watch Eddie with what looked like growing curiosity.

One afternoon, after hours of reading aloud and playing soft melodies on his guitar, Eddie felt the weight of the day catching up to him. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The rhythmic sounds of the guinea pigs munching on their food, coupled with the cozy warmth of the bean bag, lulled Eddie into a sleepy daze.

Before he knew it, he had dozed off, his head resting against the back of the bean bag, his breathing slow and steady.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, Elvis had also grown sleepy. The little guinea pig had gradually moved closer to the side of the cage nearest Eddie, his tiny body finally relaxing as he curled up in a pile of hay. For the first time since you had left, Elvis drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling safe with Eddie nearby.

About an hour later, Eddie stirred awake. His neck ached slightly from the angle he’d been sleeping in, but as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the nap had been surprisingly refreshing. He turned to check on the guinea pigs, expecting to see them scurrying around or nibbling on some hay.

But then he noticed Elvis, who was still lying in the same spot, completely still. Eddie’s smile faded as a pang of worry shot through him. He leaned closer to the cage, his heart starting to race. Elvis wasn’t moving at all.

“Elvis?” Eddie called softly, tapping the side of the cage. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

There was no response. No twitch of the nose, no flutter of the ears—nothing. Eddie’s mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Was Elvis…? No, he couldn’t be. But the stillness, the lack of movement, made Eddie’s stomach twist in fear.

Panic set in as Eddie quickly reached out to gently pet Elvis’ white crest, his hands trembling. “Elvis, come on, don’t do this to me,” he murmured, trying to nudge the guinea pig gently. But Elvis remained motionless, his tiny body limp and unresponsive.

“Oh god,” Eddie breathed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Y/N’s gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, Elvis, I didn’t—”

He froze mid-sentence, his brain scrambling for a solution. Maybe Elvis was just in a deep sleep, right? Maybe he just needed a little incentive to wake up. Eddie’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—that might help.

Then he remembered the parsley. Seemingly Elvis’ favorite thing to snack.

Practically diving for the drawer, Eddie grabbed a sprig of parsley, his hands shaking as he brought it up to Elvis’s nose. “Come on, little guy,” Eddie begged, holding his breath and praying to whatever god might hear him right now. “I know you love this stuff. Just wake up, please.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Eddie’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was on the verge of full-blown panic. But then, just as he was about to lose hope, Elvis’s nose twitched. It was barely noticeable at first, but Eddie’s sharp eyes caught it. Then, slowly, Elvis’s whiskers twitched, and he took a long, deep sniff of the parsley.

Eddie nearly sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching as Elvis’s eyes fluttered open, the guinea pig groggily lifting his head to nibble on the parsley. The sight of Elvis happily munching away, casually as if nothing happened, made Eddie laugh out loud, though his laughter was shaky with the remnants of his panic.

"You scared the hell out of me, you little rascal,” Eddie said, his voice filled with both amusement and lingering relief. He gently stroked Elvis’s fur as the guinea pig chewed contentedly, seemingly unaware of the scare he’d just given Eddie.

Eddie sat back on the bean bag, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he watched Elvis eat. The little guy had just been in a deep sleep, completely comfortable in Eddie’s presence. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—Elvis finally trusted him enough to sleep so soundly, something that seemed impossible just days ago.

Eddie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he teased, though his tone was affectionate. “But hey, at least I know how to wake you up now.”

For the rest of the day, Elvis stayed close to Eddie, either nestled in his hoodie or perched on his chest as Eddie lay on the couch. They watched TV together, with Eddie flipping through channels until he found an old movie that wouldn’t be too loud or scary.

When you returned that evening, the first thing you noticed was the unusual stillness in your living room. Expecting the usual rustling of hay and the soft chattering of your guinea pigs, you tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening. As you rounded the corner, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks, your heart melting instantly.

Eddie Munson, the chaotic, metal-as-fuck guy you knew, was stretched out on your couch, his wild curls splayed out on the cushion, with Elvis nestled snugly inside his hoodie, just below his chin. The two of them were watching some cheesy sitcom, but it was clear they were both on the verge of dozing off. Elvis looked completely at ease, his tiny nose twitching as he snuggled deeper into Eddie’s hoodie.

You had to stifle a giggle, half from the absurdity of the scene and half from the warmth it brought to your chest. You almost didn’t want to disturb them, but curiosity got the better of you. “How the hell did you do that?” you whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Elvis had always been so fixated on you, never letting anyone else get near him, let alone cuddle up like that. Not even your closest friends or family had managed to gain his trust like this.

Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he turned his head to look at you. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face when he saw the look of disbelief on yours. He glanced down at Elvis, who remained contentedly curled up, his little body rising and falling with Eddie’s steady breaths. “Oh, this?” Eddie said with a playful smirk, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I found out he’s a sucker for parsley. And, well… your perfume.”

Your eyes widened as you stepped closer, leaning in to catch the familiar scent lingering on Eddie’s hoodie. Sure enough, there it was - your perfume, the one you always wore. The realization hit you like a warm wave, making your heart flutter. “You’re wearing my perfume?” you asked, half amused, half touched by the gesture.

Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? Figured if I couldn’t be you, I could at least smell like you. Gotta say, I think it’s working. Might have to start wearing this stuff all the time, I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously charming,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to disagree. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it? This little guy’s all about the Munson charm now.” He gently stroked Elvis’s fur with the back of his finger, the guinea pig letting out a contented little purr in response.

“Looks like he’s not the only one,” you muttered under your breath, though a smile tugged at your lips as you said it.

Eddie’s grin widened as he caught your words, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is that so?” he drawled, his tone light but his gaze warm.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach. “Maybe,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper.

For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the sitcom. You gently draped a blanket over Eddie and Elvis, who both looked completely content in their shared little cocoon. The sight of Eddie, usually so loud and full of energy, lying there with your favorite guinea pig snuggled up against him, melted away any lingering doubts you had about him.

“Thanks for taking care of them,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Anytime,” Eddie replied. “I kinda get it now. Why you’re so into these little guys. Elvis is pretty cool once you get past the whole ‘tiny ball of anxiety’ thing.” His voice was sincere, though the playful glint in his eye remained. “But just so you know, I’m expecting a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty here.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of bonus are we talking about?”

He grinned, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at you. “How about dinner? You know, as a thank you. And maybe you could tell me more about this perfume - I’m thinking of making it my signature scent.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Dinner, huh? I suppose I owe you that much.”

Eddie’s smile softened, his teasing fading into something more genuine. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. And Elvis, of course. We make a pretty good team.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you looked down at the two of them, the warmth in your chest spread until it felt like you might burst. Maybe there was something special here - something you hadn’t expected to find.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess dinner it is.”

xxx

I wrote this just for myself because I miss my little diva so so much. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. The picture above is one of my favorites, Elvis in his favorite blanket, sleeping on my hand.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie stranger things #guinea pigs #eddie munson x fem!reader

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corroded-hellfire · 2 years ago

Text

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: When Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him.

Note: This was intended to be a short little spicy blurb. Yet here we are. Babysitter!reader just might be my ultimate weakness. Reader is 20, Eddie is early to mid 30s.

Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), babysitter!reader, infidelity, language, older!eddie, praise kink, breeding kink, I think that’s it?

Words: 10k

Part Two | All stories in this universe

“Ryan, did you finish your homework?”

Small dark eyes peek out at you from behind the curls that fall into his eyes.

“No.”

Thankfully, this kid is honest to a fault. The day you first catch him in a lie you’ll be afraid he’s turning into his bitch of a mother.

“And why not?” you ask.

“I need help,” he says quietly. His voice sounds ashamed, and it etches a crack in your heart.

“Then you ask.” You sit down next to him at the kitchen table and push his hair out of his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, okay? Everyone needs it sometimes.”

Ryan nods his head and pulls a folder out of his backpack. While he shuffles some papers around, you hear his younger brother on the other side of the couch, making car honking and crashing noises as he plays with his Hot Wheels.

“Luke, are you hungry?”

“No!” comes the response in between fake automobile sounds.

Ryan slides a piece of paper in front of you and your eyes glance over it. You’re not surprised it’s his reading homework again. He’s often gotten embarrassed about being behind the other kids in his class.

“Okay, we got this,” you tell him. “Oh, I know you know this word.” Ryan stares at it, brow pinching in concentration. “Come on, sound it out.”

“D…dif.” Ryan pauses to let out a sigh. “Differ. Differen. Different. Different!”

“You got it!”

A smile brightens his face as you wrap your arm around his shoulders. He looks so proud of himself, and it warms your heart.

Luke gets up and walks over to you at the table. Even though you’ve been watching him for over a year now, you’re still shocked at how much Eddie’s youngest son looks exactly like him. He’s a miniature Eddie with blue eyes. Luke rests his head against your shoulder, and you wrap your other arm around his shoulders.

“What’s up?” you ask Luke.

“Bored.”

“Bored?” you ask. “You were just playing.”

“Now I’m bored,” Luke says.

The front doorknob turns and both boys’ heads snap in that direction. Luke’s gone from your side before Eddie even has a chance to step one boot inside the threshold. He’s expecting it though and swoops his youngest son up in his arms as he steps inside.

“Hey, what’s up, rugrat?” Eddie asks. He kicks the door closed behind him and manhandles Luke until he’s holding him upside down.

“Ahh! Daddy! Put me down!”

“You sure? Okay.” Eddie holds him over the couch and drops him on his back onto the soft cushions. He kicks his boots off in the doorway of his bedroom and tugs the hair tie from the back of his head, setting his wild curls free. The dark blue coveralls still adorn his legs, the arms of the jumpsuit tied around his waist, and his plain white t-shirt is smudged with dirty fingerprints.

“Hi, Dad,” Ryan says, front tooth missing, making his smile even more adorable.

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of his head as he walks by, pressing one to yours next, shooting you a playful smirk as he walks into the kitchen. He’s only messing around, so why are your cheeks heating up so much?

“How was work?” you ask.

“Same old, same old,” Eddie says. He walks over to the table, popping the cap off a water bottle and chugging down half its contents in one go. The way his Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks catches your attention and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away. When he pulls the bottle away from his mouth, you turn your eyes down to Ryan’s worksheet, so you’re not caught staring.

“How’s work for you?” Eddie asks.

“Pretty good,” you tell him. “You saved me though because a certain little someone told me he was bored.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns to look at Luke on the couch.

“Bored? Again? Really?”

Luke shrugs and runs around the couch to launch himself at his dad. Eddie catches him with one arm, not spilling a drop of water from his bottle in the other. It’s hot, really, how effortlessly strong he is. You’d been by the garage he works at twice when your car was acting up, and the way Eddie looked bent over the hood or slid underneath the car had you thinking of ways to sabotage your own vehicle.

Ryan tugs on your sleeve and points down at his homework again.

“Right,” you say, shifting in your chair to look down at the paper again.

“I can help him with his homework,” Eddie says. You glance up and shoot him a smile.

“It’s no problem. Looks like you’ve got your hands full anyway.”

Luke lets out a war cry as he hangs onto his dad’s arm, little legs kicking dangerously close to Eddie’s crotch.

“Watch the goods,” Eddie warns him. You’re forced to look back down at Ryan’s worksheet and try desperately not to think of said goods. Not like you haven’t thought about them every single day since you met him.

“Enormous!”

“What?” Your head jolts up to look at Ryan, cheeks heating up and eyes wide.

“That’s the next word! I know this one!”

Letting out a deep breath, your eyes see the next word on the page is indeed “enormous.”

“Very good,” you tell him.

“I know it ‘cause it’s in my favorite book,” the seven-year-old tells you with a proud smile on his face.

“You’re such a smartie,” you tell him and ruffle his hair. He kicks his legs back and forth under the table and his tongue pokes out of his lips as he looks at the next word on the paper. Both boys have the same habit of sticking out their tongues when they’re concentrating, just like their father.

Ryan is able to sound out most of the remaining words on the list on his own, only needing your help once or twice. He happily puts his homework away, excited to show his teacher tomorrow how well he did. When he goes off to play in his room, Luke following behind him, you stand up and grab your bag. Eddie’s leaning against the doorway in the kitchen and your eyes catch the clock over his shoulder. Usually, Brittany’s home by now. You must make a face at the thought. Either that or Eddie can read your mind – which you really hope isn’t the case.

“Said she’s working late,” Eddie says.

“Mm,” you hum. That’s bullshit and you both know it. You don’t trust yourself to say anything about her without insulting his wife to his face, so you keep your mouth shut.

“What do you want for dinner tomorrow?” Eddie asks.

“Anything as long as you’re not cooking it.” Your teasing smirk has him pushing off the wall and knocking his shoulder into you as he walks past.

“Oh, you’re so funny,” he says dryly as he opens the fridge and grabs a beer.

“Whatever the kids want,” you say, answering his original question.

Eddie snorts as he opens his beer. He turns back to you and your eyes involuntarily track the bottle up to his lips and the way his throat moves when he drinks. You really have to stop staring at him when all he’s doing is simply taking a drink.

“They’ll eat anything, you know that,” Eddie says once he’s taken a sip. If he noticed the way you were looking at him, he doesn’t let it show. “You’re a pickier eater than they are.”

You scoff and reach out to swat his arm, making him chuckle.

“I am not,” you say. He raises his eyebrows at you and sets his beer down on the counter.

“So, should I pick up sushi on the way home from work tomorrow?”

“Oh, come on,” you whine. “That’s like, the one food I don’t like.”

“Uh huh,” he says, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “I’ll leave money for pizza, then.”

“I can afford a pizza, Eddie,” you say. When you’d first met, he’d almost winced when you called him “Mr. Munson.” He’s just been Eddie ever since.

“You’re not paying for a pizza my kids are going to eat most of,” he says. “S’bad enough you’re working outside of your usual schedule.”

“Eddie,” you say, taking a step towards him. “I’m your babysitter. It’s literally my job to watch your kids when you’re not going to be home. My schedule is whenever you need me.”

“It’s a Friday night, you should be going out,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“I could’ve said I was busy, and I couldn’t watch them. But I wasn’t, so I am. Besides, it’s your anniversary.” At this, Eddie gives a quick roll of his eyes which you politely ignore. “I wasn’t going to just bail on you. Besides, I didn’t have a date or plans with friends or anything.” You think you’re imagining the spark of fire in his eyes when you mention a date, but you secretly hope you’re not.

“Which is ridiculous,” Eddie says. “Don’t understand how you’re not constantly hanging out with friends or dating or stuff.” He shrugs and takes a step closer to you. “You work too hard. At school and work.”

“But I’m passing my classes,” you tell him. What you don’t tell him is that you’ve turned down invitations to hang out with friends, frat parties, and even dates because you’d rather watch Ryan and Luke just to see Eddie for the brief moments before he left and when he got home. You’ve never admitted that to anyone, actually, because you know it’s pretty pathetic to be so enamored with the father of the kids you babysit.

“Of course you are,” Eddie says. He smiles and reaches out to tug on a lock of your hair. “You’re ridiculously smart. Can be anything you want to be.”

Your wife, you think before mentally smacking yourself. He’s married. And celebrating his anniversary tomorrow. Even if his wife is a cheating, lying bitch.

“I’m working on it,” you say. Speaking of which, you have a paper due tomorrow so you probably should leave. As much as you really don’t want to. “I should head out.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You will.”

Eddie walks you to the front door and you grip the strap of your bag so hard your knuckles are turning white. It’s not fair, this effect he has on you. It’s maddening.

“Get home safe,” Eddie says as he opens the door for you.

“Thanks.” You give him a small smile as you step outside. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

When you step up to the Munson door the next day, you can already hear Brittany screaming at one of the kids somewhere in the house. For as long as you’ve known the family, the kids have never once given you a reason to scream at them, nor have you seen Eddie ever get above slightly raising his voice at them. Before you lift your fist to knock, you let out a loud, long groan, releasing all the tension already in your body since you’re about to be given more.

Brittany answers after a long minute of you waiting. Half of her dirty blonde hair is up in curlers and there’s a mascara wand in her hand. She looks crazed, which isn’t too far off, you think.

“Oh. Aren’t you early?” No hello, no greeting.

“Um, I don’t think so. Eddie told me five.”

“Oh.” She walks away from the door, leaving it open behind her, and you know that’s the closest thing to an invitation inside that you’re going to get. Taking advantage of being alone in the entryway, you roll your eyes as you toe off your shoes and close the front door. Luke’s laying on the couch, watching Lady and the Tramp, so you plop down next to him and squeeze his ankle.

“Hey, you,” you say.

“Hi,” Luke says, eyes never leaving the animated dogs on the screen. His five-year-old mind is clearly immersed in the story, so you decide to leave him alone and head into the kitchen. There’s a pizza menu on the table, along with a twenty-dollar bill. You huff a laugh and go to grab a water bottle from the fridge.

“Hey, have you seen my…” Eddie comes around the corner, only in a pair of fitted black pants, and stops short when he sees you. A smile appears on his face as he looks at you though, which only causes your stomach to flutter more than it already was at seeing him shirtless. You refuse to take your eyes off of his because you know you wouldn’t be able to help yourself from gawking at his chest and soaking in every little detail of his pale skin. “You’re not my wife.” Yeah, I fucking know, you think. Don’t remind me.

“Maybe I could still help,” you say. “Have I seen your what?” Your voice sounds scratchy, so you take a large sip of water, hoping he’d only think you sounded off because you’re thirsty. And you are. In multiple ways.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Eddie says.

Yeah, because the bitch was screaming, you think.

“Brittany let me in.”

“Honestly, you can just walk in whenever you get here,” Eddie says. “You’re family at this point.”

Say I’m like a little sister to you and I will cry.

“I’ll remember that,” you say. “Now, what can’t you find this time?”

He throws you a teasing glare as he walks over to the counter, shuffling through the clutter there.

“I’m looking for a small blue bag. I thought it was in my coat pocket, but I can’t find it.”

“You sure?” You’re admiring his naked back as he searches, eyes trailing down to his ass in the beautifully flattering pants, but your eyes snap back up to his as he turns around.

“Listen, my sunglasses were on my head once when I lost them.” “And your wallet was in your hand that one time you were looking for it,” you tease him.

“Okay, Miss Smartypants,” Eddie says as he walks closer to you. He wraps one arm around your shoulders and digs the fingers of his other hand into your ribs, making you let out a loud squeal as he tickles you. Instinctively, you go to push him away and your hands rest on his bare chest. You swear you can feel physical sparks under your skin as you touch him.

“Eddie!”

The yell coming from his bedroom has Eddie dropping his head forward and letting out a sigh. Reluctantly – you’d like to think, anyway – he lets go of you and shoots you half a smile as he makes his way down the hall. Your head is filled with a dizzying excitement and the urge to cry all wrapped up in one. Turning to walk back towards the living room, you catch sight of Eddie’s coat draped over a kitchen chair. With a smirk on your face, you walk over to it and slip your hands into the pockets. Unsurprisingly, you pull out a small blue paper bag from the left pocket.

“You adorable scatterbrain,” you mumble to yourself as you put it back where you found it.

Ryan runs down the hallway and almost bumps into you. He slides to a stop on his socks and grins as he pounces on you. His arms wrap around your middle, and you chuckle as you hug the boy back.

“Missed me, huh?” you ask.

“Yes! And guess what?”

“What?” you ask, pulling back to look at him. His head tilts up to face you, a smile identical to his dad’s beaming up at you.

“I got an A on my spelling test today!” “You did? Oh, I’m so proud of you!” You pull him in for another hug and kiss the top of his head. He chuckles and squirms out of your grip.

“Dad says I get to pick a new book at the store this weekend.”

“That’s amazing, buddy,” you tell him. “I told you you’re a smartie.”

“We gonna get pizza?” Ryan asks, eyes catching the menu on the table.

“We are,” you tell him. “What kind do you want?”

“Sausage,” he says, not to your surprise.

“And Luke will want pepperoni,” you say.

“Wow, you’d think you’ve been here before,” Eddie says as he comes back into the kitchen. If it was possible for a voice to smirk, his would be doing it now. Unfortunately, when he enters this time, he’s in a shirt. It’s a nice shirt, though. It’s a beige color with razor-thin black stripes going vertically down. The sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, showing off your favorite of all his tattoos: the bats. You’ve spent far too much time thinking about those seven inked bats.

“Heard you’re taking a trip to the bookstore this weekend,” you say to Eddie. A proud look comes to his face as his eyes shift to his son. It’ll never cease to make your heart soar, seeing how much he loves his children.

“Sure are,” Eddie says. “And he gets whatever he wants.”

Ryan’s grin grows and he walks over to his dad who musses his hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“Oh, I found your missing bag.” A smug smirk comes to your face as you cross your arms over your chest. Eddie’s eyes shoot up to you.

“Where?” he asks.

“Your pocket,” you say through a laugh.

“Are you shitting me?” Ryan shoots his dad a dirty look and Eddie just shrugs apologetically at him. He makes his way over to his coat and lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls the bag out. “I could’ve sworn I checked there. Jesus, you’re a lifesaver.” Eddie opens the bag as Ryan leaves the kitchen, going to join his brother in the living room. There’s a small black velvet box in Eddie’s hand and his eyes flit up to yours. “Want to see?”

“Duh.”

Inside there’s a diamond necklace with a delicate silver chain. You gasp as your eyes take in the piece of jewelry. It’s gorgeous. Eddie smiles as you lean in to take a better look. The charm is the silver outline of a heart with a diamond right in the middle. It’s the perfect size and you can basically feel how it would rest against your skin. But, of course, it’s not for you. It’s for the woman who’s cheating on him. The thought has you pulling back from the necklace, and you clear your throat.

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him. “She’s going to love it.”

“You think?” Eddie asks as he closes the box.

“How could she not?” you ask, a small, forced smile on your face. How could she not love the necklace? How could she be such a lying bitch all the time? How could she cheat on such a wonderful and gorgeous husband? You’d never understand how her mind works.

Eddie replaces the gift in his pocket just as Brittany walks into the kitchen, hair and makeup now complete. As awful as she is, you can’t deny that she’s pretty. Her heart-shaped face framed by long wavy hair, and bright blue eyes underneath thick, dark lashes. She’s wearing a dark red dress that hugs her curves and you feel suddenly self-conscious in your jeans and t-shirt. It’s obvious why Eddie would fall for her when they were teenagers, but it’s not as obvious why he’s stayed with her all this time.

“Ready?” Brittany asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says. He grabs his coat from the chair and shrugs it on his shoulders.

“Make sure they take a bath,” Brittany says as she snatches her purse up from the counter.

Before you can answer, Eddie steps in.

“Britt, she knows,” Eddie says. You give him a grateful smile. You’re pretty sure that you’ve gotten her kids to take more baths than she ever has. At least they like and listen to you.

You follow both of them into the living room where Brittany snaps her fingers at her sons to get their attention. It’s like she thinks they’re the dogs they’re watching on the television.

“We’ll be back after you’re asleep.” The boys are hardly paying attention to her. “Listen to her more than you do me.”

Her. Not even your name. But they’re always great for you, something you’d love to rub in her smug face.

Eddie actually goes over to give his sons hugs and kisses goodbye, which they both return wholeheartedly. Brittany checks her watch as Eddie gives Luke one more kiss.

“Be good,” he tells them, to which they nod. “Thanks again for watching them.”

You wave him off as you follow them to the front door. Brittany strolls out, heels clacking on the pavement outside as she marches to the car. Eddie gives you one more smile before he digs his keys out of the pocket and follows after his wife. With a sigh, you shut and lock the door behind him. God, what you wouldn’t give to be in Brittany’s place.

When the pizza’s been ordered and delivered, you and the boys sit on the couch and watch The Muppets. You’re not paying much attention to the show, but Ryan’s question takes you by surprise.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

You almost choke on the piece of cheese that just slid down your throat. A glance at the television screen shows Miss Piggy and Kermit on a romantic date, which makes you realize Ryan’s train of thought.

“Oh, no, I don’t,” you tell him.

“Mom wants you to,” Luke says, eyes never leaving the screen. Your head turns so quickly that you hear your neck crack.

“What?” you ask.

“We heard Mom and Dad talking,” Ryan says in between bites. “Mom said you should have our Uncle Dustin as your boyfriend.”

“O-Oh?” You shift in your seat, the room suddenly feeling hot. Part of you knows you’ll regret it, but you need to know. “What did Daddy say?”

“He said no,” Luke says matter-of-factly.

The way your heart soars is ridiculous, and you know that, but you can’t help it.

“Did they say anything else?” you ask, voice cracking.

“Daddy told Mom that she shouldn’t start you up with anyone,” Ryan says. Your brow furrows in confusion as you think for a minute.

“You mean ‘set me up?’” you ask.

Ryan shrugs and takes another bite of his pizza.

“Then Mom yelled at us to go back to our rooms,” Luke says.

Your head is spinning but you can’t exactly grill the children or ask them what they think this means. All you can do is pretend to watch The Muppets and finish your pizza as your thoughts circle around your mind.

The boys take their baths with no problem and Luke only asks for one extra bedtime story, which is good for him. Once you’ve checked that they’re both asleep, you pad down the hallway towards the living room. It’s chilly in the house and you rub your hands over your bare arms. An idea strikes you and your head swivels in the direction of the master bedroom. They wouldn’t be home for hours, so what’s the harm of wearing one of Eddie’s hoodies? You slip into the room and aren’t surprised to find it messy. You could count the number of times you’ve been in here on one hand and it was usually trying to find something with the boys.

With them asleep and you having the time, you let your nosey nature take hold of you and look around the room. There’s a television tucked into one corner, balanced precariously on a small end table. The comforter on the bed is a pea green color that you hardly think Eddie would've picked out. Photo frames dot the white walls, most filled with smiling pictures of Ryan and Luke from infancy to the present day. There are only a few photos that have both Eddie and Brittany in them, and hardly any of just the two of them alone. The one exception is their wedding photo hanging on the wall opposite the bed. You smile at younger Eddie looking at the camera. He looks so handsome in his black tux, bowtie looking so foreign around his throat. Brittany looks stunning in her gown and if you didn’t know her, you’d think they make a cute couple. But you sneer at the bride looking at you from the other side of the glass and turn away from the picture.

A black hoodie rests on top of a pile of clothes next to the bed and you swipe it up. Slipping it over your head, you smile at the warmth and scent of Eddie that fills you. You make your way back to the living room and wrap your arms around yourself as you walk. Grabbing the remote from where it sits on the coffee table, you settle in on the couch. There’s nothing good on as you flip through the channels, so you decide to get up and pop The Princess Bride into the VHS player.

When it’s a little more than halfway through, you hear keys jingling at the front door and you sit up, watching as the doorknob turns. Eddie walks in, alone, and tosses his keys down on the small hall table near the door. You watch him with a frown on your face as he strips off his coat and hangs it up on the coat rack with a sigh. There’s a dejected look on his face as he kicks his shoes off. He turns to you and gives you a sad smile before coming to sit down next to you.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Brittany?” you ask.

“According to her?” Eddie asks with a disbelieving laugh. “Her sister’s. Probably one of her boyfriends’ places though.”

“One of?” Your eyebrows shoot up and Eddie shrugs.

“I’ve lost count,” he admits. It was never said out loud between you and Eddie, but you both knew the other knew that Brittany was having an affair. Or affairs, apparently. Eddie fishes the small velvet box containing the diamond necklace out of his pants pocket and tosses it on the coffee table. “She, uh, got mad when I gave her the necklace.”

“Mad?” you ask. “Why the hell would she get mad?”

Eddie rubs a hand over his face and shakes his head. He looks so exhausted; it makes your heart ache for him.

“Apparently the diamond is too small for being married for nine years.”

“What the fuck?”

It just slips out of your mouth, but it makes Eddie laugh.

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a sigh. “What the fuck?”

“That’s really shitty,” you tell him. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shrugs and you notice he doesn’t look all that sad. Or surprised.

“How were the kids?” Eddie asks.

“Angels as always,” you tell him. “They’re good kids.”

“They are,” Eddie says with a fond smile on his face.

“Because of you.” You nudge your shoulder against his and he smiles wider.

“Thanks – hey. Is that my hoodie?”

“Oh,” you say, looking down at it. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I was cold. Do you want it back?”

“No, no.” Eddie waves you off. “It looks good on you.”

Your face heats up at his words and he seems to notice. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips and he nudges your shoulder with his own in return. You lick over your lips and don’t give yourself time to contemplate your next words.

“Anything I can do to make you feel better?”

He turns his head to look at you, eyes roaming over your face, trying to see the meaning behind your words. Heart hammering against your ribs, you decide to bite your lower lip; you can either play it as an attempt at sexy or an innocent gesture, depending on Eddie’s response.

“I always feel better when you’re around.” He speaks softly and it only adds to the intimacy of his words.

Unable to help the smile that comes to your face, you look down at your lap before looking back at Eddie from underneath your eyelashes. He’s watching you, lips parted, eyes darkening. Heat pools down to your core at the look. You situate yourself so you’re facing him on the couch, one elbow perched on the back of it, arm propping your head up.

“Can I ask you something personal?” you ask quietly. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, though.”

“You can ask me anything.”

His words send your stomach flip flopping, and you unconsciously lean in towards him.

“If you know she’s cheating on you, why are you still with her?”

Eddie sighs and looks down to his lap. A sad smile is on his face when he looks back up to you. “She’s pretty awful, isn’t she?” He winces as he says it, like it’s the first time he’s admitted it to anyone besides himself. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place though because she’s still his wife and you don’t want to say anything bad about her. Even if it is all true. When you stay quiet, Eddie shrugs his shoulders and starts to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t know. Guess I’m afraid.”

“Of what?” you ask, voice laced in concern.

He leans his head back until it’s resting on the back of the couch, and he runs his hands over his face.

“Oh, God,” he says. He drops his hands back to his lap and tilts his head to look at you. “I guess there’s this voice inside that keeps saying ‘who else would want me?’”

“That’s not true,” you say without hesitation. You lean forward and bring your hand up to rest on his shoulder. “Don’t say that. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah?” The self-deprecating smile he’s giving you fills you with ire. How dare this woman make Eddie feel like he’s unlovable. That he’s unwanted. You’ve known from the moment you met him that Eddie was special, and this bitch has had him over ten years and is still too blind to see it.

“Eddie,” you say as you give his shoulder a squeeze. “You’re really fucking awesome.”

He chuckles at that, and the way his eyes crinkle in the corners has your heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings.

“You’re pretty fucking awesome, too,” he says.

“You clean up nice, too,” you tell him as you reach for the buttons on his shirt. The two top ones aren’t fastened, so you let your fingers linger on the third, right where a sparse patch of chest hair starts to peek out. It feels like a game of chicken. Both of you wanting to toe over that line between friendly and too intimate for friends, but neither sure how to make that final push.

“While you look hot in an old sweatshirt,” Eddie says. That was definitely a step over that line, you decide. Face turning pink, you move forward and lift one leg over Eddie’s lap until you’re straddling him. His hands immediately rest on your hips, and you give him a shy smile as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“This okay?” you ask.

“Very,” Eddie says and pulls you forward by your hips until your chest is up against his. “Shit, I shouldn’t want this.” His beautiful brown eyes are searching your face, taking in every little feature that he finds adorable, that makes you you. “But I have wanted it. For so long.” Your mind is having trouble comprehending that he’s wanted you. Smoke is probably coming out of your ears because he’s short circuited your brain. Realizing you’re just staring at him dumbly, your face flushes.

“Me too,” you admit. Even through the material of all the layers between you, you can feel the hardness your core is resting up against. Giving an experimental rock of your hips over it, you let out a whine. Eddie shudders and his eyes fall closed. How long has it been since Brittany’s made him feel good? Slept with him? Touched him? Even looked at him in a way that would please him? How she’s not constantly on her knees for her husband is incomprehensible to you.

You trail your hands from his neck to his shoulders, slowly moving them to rest on his chest. Under your right hand his heart is beating so fast and the thought that you’re the one doing this to him feels wild. You lean and press a soft kiss to his cheek. From there, you move up to whisper in his ear.

“I want to make you feel good.”

Eddie shivers from your words and a soft moan leaves his lips. You trail soft kisses down his jaw, taking your time – it’s agonizingly slow in Eddie’s opinion. Stopping when you’re just shy of his mouth, you pull back and nuzzle the tip of your nose against his. It’s all Eddie needs before he’s cupping your jaw in his large hand and bringing your mouth down against his. The moment your lips touch his, everything feels right. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave five little bruises behind. The kiss starts slow and sweet, but quickly becomes a mess of tongues and breathing into one another’s mouths as you try to taste every part of each other. You slide your hands up to cup Eddie’s neck as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. It causes you to whine and roll your hips down against Eddie’s.

“Shhh,” Eddie says as he pulls back from your lips. His eyes are blown, his mouth is kissed bruised, breaths are shallow, and you think he’s never looked more beautiful. “Don’t want to wake the boys.”

You nod and rest your forehead against his, trying to catch your breath.

“Y-Your room?” you ask shyly.

“Really?” Eddie asks, seeming surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Eddie,” you say with a laugh. “You think I would’ve climbed on your lap and shoved my tongue down your throat if I didn’t want to?”

That’s all the answer he needs. He stands with you still in his lap, and you let out a muffled squeal as you hide your face in his neck and wrap your legs around his waist. Eddie blindly reaches down and grabs the remote from the coffee table.

“Princess Bride, huh?” Eddie asks and you can hear the teasing in his tone.

“It’s a great movie,” you say. “Now are you going to take me to your room?”

The television clicks off and the remote lands on the couch with a thud.

“As you wish.”

You almost melt on the spot with those words. He carries you down the hall, your lips attached to his neck the entire time. Your tongue glides over a particularly sensitive spot and a moan slips free of Eddie’s mouth as he steps in his room. Kicking the door shut behind him, Eddie takes you over to the bed and lays you down on it. Quickly locking the bedroom door, he’s about to crawl on top of you when you slip out from under him and kneel at his feet on the floor.

“Please?” you ask, bringing your hand up to rub over his clothed erection. “Can I please suck you off?”

“Fuck,” Eddie mumbles as his hands fly to his belt. As he works with that buckle, you pop the button open on his pants and pull down the zipper. You help him shove his pants and boxers down until they’re pooled around his ankles, and you let him use you for balance so he can step out of them entirely. Even semi hard his length is ridiculously impressive. Definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, and you feel yourself getting wetter just from imagining how he’s going to stretch you open.

“Such a pretty cock.” You don’t even realize you’ve said the words until you see his dick twitch and a whimper comes from above you. Spitting into your hand, you reach forward and wrap your hand around the base and jerk him a few times. When you look up at him you see that his eyes have drifted closed and he’s biting his bottom lip. A bead of precum forms on his slit and you lean forward to lick it off.

“Shit,” Eddie swears quietly. After a few more kitten licks to the tip, you engulf the whole head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive ridge of his tip. You bob your head a few times, taking him further and further each time you come back. When you have as much of him as you can possibly handle, you keep jerking the rest with your hand and hollow out your cheeks.

Eddie’s moans are so beautiful that you’re pretty sure you could cum just listening to him. You have to squeeze your thighs together to give yourself some relief as you keep your head moving at a steady pace. Making it your personal mission to get him to hit the back of your throat, you dig your fingers into Eddie’s thighs and pull them in towards you. It works, and Eddie’s chanting your name like a prayer as you gag, tears streaming down your face. You pull off with a pop before dipping down and running your tongue over his balls.

“You’re going to kill me,” Eddie says with a breathy laugh. His cock, covered in your spit, keeps bumping against your face as you mouth at his sack. When your nose bumps into his shaft, you pull off of his balls and run your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. You swirl your tongue around the tip a few more times before you let him fall from your mouth.

“I want you to cum in my mouth. But I want you to cum inside me even more.”

Eddie’s entire chest is flushed, and you grin in satisfaction. He looks too blissed out to speak so you start at his knee and press sweet kisses up his leg. When you get to his hip, you pull back to inspect the artwork there. The tattoo is right in the dip of his hip, below the V that leads to his dick. It’s a crescent moon made from what looks like thorns and twigs. One of the twigs is hanging longer than the rest so that it almost looks like the moon is a sickle and the long branch it’s handle. You press a few soft kisses against the inked skin before slowly running your tongue over it.

“Any other surprise tattoos I’m going to find?” you ask with a smirk as you stand up.

“Only one way to find out.” Eddie grins and pulls you against his body to attach his lips to yours. His grip on you is firm, but never too tight. Like you’re delicate, not fragile.

Eddie backs you up until the back of your knees hit the bed and you only break the kiss to crawl up towards the pillows. Eddie undoes the button on your jeans, and you lift your hips to help him slide them off. He tosses them to the floor and picks up your ankle in one hand. The open mouth kisses he starts pressing against the skin of your ankle and up your calf has you trembling under his touch. His kisses continue up until he’s kissing the inside of your thigh. When he gives the gentlest of bites to the meat of your leg, he runs his tongue over it to soothe the skin. His nose nudges the edge of your panties, and he looks up at you with his impossibly alluring eyes.

“Wanna taste you so bad, baby. Can I?”

Your hips buck at his words and you’re nodding your head, unable to speak.

He hooks his fingers on the elastic of your purple cotton panties and slides them down your legs until they’ve joined your jeans on the floor. Before leaning back down between your legs, Eddie undoes the buttons on his shirt and slips it off his shoulders. Standing completely bare in front of you, you’re not sure which is throbbing harder, your heart or your pussy.

You go to reach for the hem of the hoodie that you’re wearing, but Eddie stops you.

“Wanna lick your pussy while you’re wearing my clothes.”

You’re forced to throw a hand over your mouth to stifle the whine that leaves your lips. How you’re going to survive this without making any noise, you have no idea.

Eddie situates himself between your legs and a shyness suddenly comes over you and your legs start to close.

“Nuh uh,” Eddie tuts. “Come on, let me see you.”

Face burning, you open your legs back up and are rewarded with the hottest groan you’ve ever heard. “Fuck, baby.” Using his large hands, he spreads your legs a little wider to give him a better view. You whimper as he stares at your sex, feeling vulnerable in a way you’ve never felt before.

“God, you have such a pretty pussy, baby.” He slides a finger through your folds and you’re already so wet that it makes a schlick sound as he collects your arousal with his hand. “So, so wet. This all for me, baby?”

“You,” you pant out. “All for you. Only for you.”

His thumb finds your clit and your back arches off the bed, hips cantering as you try to hold back a moan.

“Shit baby, I can’t wait to hear those pretty noises you make.”

He can’t wait? Does this mean he wants to do this again? Somewhere where you’re the only two there so you can be as loud as you want? A particularly tight circle over your clit yanks you out of your head and back into your body that’s experiencing nirvana. His head dips down and he runs his tongue flat from your hole up to your sensitive little button. He does it again and his nose catches your clit on the way up, making goosebumps erupt on your skin.

Eddie’s tongue is long. You’ve noticed it many, many times over the year, and you often wondered just how talented that large muscle was. Now that you’re finding out, you know that no other tongue could ever compete. His tongue goes from flicking over your bundle of nerves to teasing your hole.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” Eddie says into the crook of your thigh. His words go straight down between your legs. “Fuck, watching your hole flutter is about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It wants you so bad,” you whine.

Eddie answers your prayer and slips a thick finger inside of you. It’s not nearly enough but you’re too busy focusing on the fact that part of Eddie is inside you. It’s something you’ve thought about almost every night for a year now.

A second finger slips in beside the first one and you bite your lip as his fingers explore. He crooks his fingers up and you’re seeing stars as he presses into that magical spongy spot inside of you.

“Close,” you whine out. “N-Need your mouth.”

“Anything for you, princess.”

If the nickname wasn't enough to have you teetering on the edge, his tongue flicking and sucking your clit as his fingers pump in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot every time was doing the trick.

“Shit, Eddie,” you say as quietly as you can. “I’m – fuck – I’m coming.”

“Come on, baby,” Eddie encourages. “Cum on my tongue.”

Once Eddie feels your walls spasming against his fingers, he quickly replaces them with his tongue so he can lick you through your orgasm. You throw your head to the side, muffling your moans into a pillow next to you. They’re still loud but stifled enough.

Eddie crawls up your body, the lower half of his face covered in your slick.

“You taste so fucking perfect, baby,” Eddie says. “Pretty sure I’m addicted now.”

“I’ll give you your fix for as long as you want it,” you say.

His grin is feral as he leans down and captures your lips with his. Eddie licks into your mouth and you moan into him as you taste yourself. Breaking away for air, he smirks when he sees he’s smeared your slick on your own face. He reaches down and wipes it away with his thumb, the act so soft compared to the tantalizing kiss.

“Can I take this off now?” you ask, squirming in the hoodie. “I’m hot.”

“Hell yes you are,” Eddie says, hands slipping under the sweatshirt and helping you take it off. Your t-shirt is next, getting tossed somewhere behind Eddie. Left only in your black silky bra, Eddie cups your breast in his hand, making you arch your back up into his touch. Taking advantage of your body coming up off the bed, he reaches around and unhooks your bra, letting the straps fall down your arms. A whine escapes you as his thumb flicks over your nipple. You slip the bra fully off and tangle your fingers in Eddie’s hair as his mouth attaches to the nipple on your other breast, tongue swirling over the hardened bud.

Eddie’s hips rock against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your folds for friction, catching against your clit with every other thrust. He pulls off your nipple with a pop and trails his hot tongue over your collarbone and up your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as Eddie blows against the wet stripe on your neck, the contrast in temperatures making you tighten your hold in his hair. When you give a little tug, a soft moan slips from Eddie’s lips.

Hands trail down your sides as Eddie attaches his mouth to the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder. You’re sure there’s going to be a mark there tomorrow and the thought fills you with pride. You’ll gladly show off your marked body from Eddie, looking in the mirror every time you need a reminder that this night happened.

“Need you inside me, Eddie,” you whisper.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie says against your neck. He reluctantly pulls his mouth from your skin to lean over to his nightstand. You grab his wrist before he can open the drawer though.

“No,” you say. “Want to feel you. All of you.”

Eddie looks down at you, hand coming to cup your face.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

“M’on the pill,” you say as you nod your head. “Please, Eddie.”

There was nothing Eddie wouldn’t give you, especially when you asked so politely.

Not sure if this would ever happen again, you wanted to make sure you got the full experience.

Eddie reaches down and grabs his cock, gathering your slickness as he rubs in between your folds. Your hips are rocking and you’re letting out small breathy whines, driving Eddie absolutely crazy. A gasp escapes your lips as the head of Eddie’s cock presses against your entrance. He swallows the sounds with his mouth, bracing himself on one forearm as he pushes into you.

Your fingers grip Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging into the soft, warm skin.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles against your mouth, letting your delicious wet warmth pull him in. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“S-So big, Eddie,” you whimper against his cheek. You’re not just blowing smoke either; the thick head of Eddie's cock stretching you in the most pleasurable way you’ve ever experienced. You keep thinking there can’t possibly be more for him to give you, but he just keeps filling you. When he finally bottoms out, you feel like you could burst from how full you feel.

Eddie presses his forehead against yours as he stills, giving you a moment to adjust. All your whimpering and whining has him twitching inside of you, reveling in the grip of your cunt.

“Please…please move.” You’re already looking up at him with such a fucked out expression that Eddie isn’t sure he’s going to last long. The only pleasure he’s gotten has been from his own hand for months now, so going from that to your perfect pussy has him feeling like he’s a teenager again. Granted, most of the time he had himself gripped in his fist he was thinking about you, but the real thing is much, much better.

He pulls his hips back and you moan into Eddie’s shoulder as you feel every little drag of his cock against your walls. You’d never been with anyone like this before; there’s always been a condom before. But this was Eddie and everything you’ve ever wanted.

Once he’s pulled almost all the way out, Eddie slides back in, hips starting a steady pace. He drops his head down into your neck and groans, the sound making you clench around him. You wrap your legs around Eddie’s hips, clinging to him in every way possible. Every inch of your skin is pressed up against Eddie’s, unable to tell whose sweat is whose.

“You feel perfect,” Eddie murmurs against your neck. “Such a perfect little pussy.”

When the head of his cock hits just the right spot, you gasp and dig your fingers in even harder to his shoulders. Your eyes are rolling back in your head as Eddie keeps the same angle, hitting that spot over and over again.

“Fuck, Eddie. Making me feel so good.”

He pulls back to look at your face and your fucked out expression has his hips picking up their pace. Sweat shining on your skin and pieces of hair sticking to your face, Eddie thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

“Feels good?” Eddie asks, to which you nod dumbly. He smirks and his hips start to fuck into you faster. “Such a good girl, for me. Pussy taking me so well.”

Looking at him through heavily lidded eyes, your mouth hangs open as he fucks all the thoughts from your head.

“Wanna be your g-good girl,” you manage to get out.

“Oh, you are,” Eddie says. “My sweet, perfect girl.” He leans down and attaches his lips to your jaw.

Eddie calling you his girl has you forgetting you’re supposed to be quiet, and a breathy moan escapes you.

“Shhh, baby,” Eddie says. “The boys are sleeping.” You nod and a smirk comes to his face. “You want me to fill you up, sweetheart? Get you all nice and knocked up?”

The way your face crumbles in pleasure has Eddie realizing he’s found another sweet spot of yours.

“Aw, you want my babies, princess? Want me to fuck you full of my cum? Shit baby, you’d look so gorgeous: round stomach, tits full.”

“C-Close, Eddie,” you whisper, voice giving out on you.

Eddie dips his two fingers into your open mouth, and you instinctively swirl your tongue around them. The sensation has Eddie closer to his peak as well. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and reaches down to rub at your swollen clit.

Eddie leans in to devour your pulse point, licking and sucking and your forehead drops forward to rest on his shoulder. When you pick your head up, your eyes land on the wedding photo on the opposite wall. Eddie starts to rub your clit faster and you feel the tension in your muscles reaching its height. You let go of Eddie’s shoulder with one hand and raise it up to stick your middle finger up at the bitch watching you from the picture frame. A smug smile comes to your lips as you relax back against the pillow, Eddie’s mouth still moving against your neck. She might have a ring on her finger, but her husband is currently fucking you on their marriage bed on their anniversary.

“Eddie,” you moan, and hearing his name fall from your lips has his hips stuttering.

“M’close too, baby,” Eddie says. “Cum with me.”

“Uh huh,” you breathe out and Eddie leans in to take your lips with his. His hand increases pressure on your clit and the dam breaks, your orgasm crashing over you like being drowned by a tidal wave. Sparks dot your vision and your pussy clenches around Eddie, sending him over the edge right alongside you. Your cunt milks his cum from him, making sure to get every last drop.

Eddie’s dizzy as his high comes to an end and he drops down next to you, immediately burying his face in your hair, nose nuzzling against your ear as he attempts to catch his breath.

“Wow,” you breathe out, making Eddie chuckle.

“Yeah,” he says, pressing a kiss right below your ear. “Wow.”

You’re staring up at the ceiling and Eddie is staring at you. When you close your eyes, Eddie smiles at the way your eyelashes brush against your skin, how your cheeks are rosy from the exertion. You blink your eyes open and turn your head to the side to look at Eddie.

“Hi,” Eddie says, a dopey smile on his lips. It makes you giggle.

“Hi.”

He reaches over and slides his hand along your jaw, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

“Look,” Eddie says as he pulls away from your lips. “What I said about h-having my babies, I…”

“It was hot,” you say with a smile, cutting him off. “I liked it.” The blush on your face gives away just how much you enjoyed it. And I actually want it, you think, but would never say.

You turn on your side to face him and Eddie scoots closer until his nose is right up against yours.

“I should feel guilty,” Eddie says after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “But I don’t. I felt guiltier about wanting you all this time than I do about having sex with you.”

“You’ve wanted me all this time?” It feels like the smile is never going to leave your face.

“How could I not?” Eddie asks. “You’re pretty fucking amazing.”

A blush blooms on your face and Eddie reaches over to pull you into his arms. Taking full advantage of the opportunity, you wrap your arm around his waist and nuzzle your face into his neck.

“You’re pretty amazing, too,” you tell him. “That’s why I’ve wanted you all this time.”

“Did you mean what you said before?” Eddie asks in a quiet voice. “About any woman being lucky to have me?”

You frown and pull away to look Eddie in the eye.

“Yes, Eddie. You deserve so much better than her. Shit, if I were your wife, I’d be waiting to jump on you every time you walked through the door.”

Dread pools in your stomach as you realize what you’ve just said. Eddie only smirks at your blush though, tucking you back into his side.

“I love how you make me feel,” he says softly.

“Daddy?”

The doorknob twists back and forth and you thank God that Eddie had the foresight to lock the door. You – reluctantly – slip out of Eddie’s arms and crawl around on the floor, gathering your items of clothing.

“Where are my jeans?” you whisper to Eddie as he slides a pair of sweatpants up his hips. He shrugs but tosses you the hoodie that he’d stripped from your body before. You hide on the floor on the other side of the bed, trying to slip back into your underwear as Eddie opens the door, stepping into the hallway to talk to his son out there.

“What’s up, Luke?”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Uh, she’s at Aunt Sandy’s.”

You hear Luke ask where you are as you slip on the rest of your clothes, sans the jeans. There’s a pair of Eddie’s pajama pants on the floor that you grab and slide into.

“Oh, I think she’s in the bathroom,” Eddie says to Luke. “What’re you doing up, buddy?”

“Bad dream,” he says, and you don’t need to see him to know he’s pouting.

“Wanna go watch some tv?”

Their footsteps disappear down the hall and you stand up from the other side of the bed. Your eyes are searching the room for your jeans when Ryan steps into the room, rubbing his eyes.

“Whas going on?” he asks with his sleepy voice.

“Oh, hey, Ry,” you say, forcing a smile to your face. “I think Luke just had a bad dream. That’s all.”

He holds his hand out to you and you’re forced to leave the mystery of your jeans behind as you go over to hold his little hand in yours. He tugs you into the living room where Eddie is sitting with Luke on the couch. Ducktales is playing on the television in the dark room, the flickering lights casting shadows on Eddie’s bare chest as he sits with his son. Luke is curled up on a pillow between Eddie and the arm of the couch, already halfway back to sleep.

You sit down next to Eddie and Ryan sits on your other side. He lays his head in your lap and you card your fingers through his soft curls. Eddie tilts his head to give you a smile and you feel a strange sort of warmth spread through your tummy. The four of you tucked onto the same couch makes you want to cry, and you’re not sure if it’s from longing or happiness that it’s currently happening.

After a few minutes, the soft snores of both boys can be heard over the low tv, and Eddie presses a kiss to your shoulder. He leans forward and swipes something off the coffee table before you can see what it is. In the light of the television, you see Eddie open the black velvet box that holds the diamond necklace intended for Brittany. His careful fingers remove it from the box, and he tosses that back onto the table. He unhooks the small silver clasp and looks up at you. When you don’t move, he raises his eyebrows at you.

“Gonna leave forward so I can put it on you?”

“What?” you ask, eyes going wide.

“I want you to have this. If you do, that is,” Eddie says. “To be completely honest, I was thinking of you when I bought this.”

At your shocked expression, a bashful look creeps onto Eddie’s face.

“The sales lady asked what I was looking to buy for my favorite girl.”

“That’s…me?” you ask in a breathy voice.

“Who else would it be?”

His smile is so genuine that you can’t help but lean forward and press your lips against his. Eddie hesitates at first, but at the snores coming from either side of you, he kisses you back. When you pull away, you lean forward, and Eddie drapes the silver chain around your neck. Once it’s secure, you lean back and look down at where the heart rests over Eddie’s black sweatshirt.

“It’s perfect.”

“It’s yours.”

The look in his eyes as he says it leads you to think he’s talking about more than just the necklace. Your eyes get misty, and you rest your forehead against his.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“I should be thanking you,” Eddie answers just as quietly. He lets his head fall down to your shoulder and you press a kiss into his curls. You turn your attention back to the ducks on the screen, and before you know it, Eddie’s soft snores have joined those of the two boys.

About an hour after Eddie falls asleep, you hear a key clanging in the front lock. The door opens and Brittany steps in, quietly taking her jacket and heels off. It’s clear she doesn’t know anyone is still up. She turns towards the living room and her eyes widen as she takes in the image of you on the couch, Eddie’s head on your shoulder, and both boys sleeping on the two of you. You let your eyes rake over her, taking in the smeared makeup, disheveled dress, and bra hanging out of her purse. All you can do is chuckle to yourself when she shoots you an icy glare. Let her prove you did something wrong.

You watch as her eyes take in you wearing Eddie’s pajama pants, his hoodie, and they widen most comically of all when they land on the necklace hanging around your neck. Her nostrils flair and she stomps down the hallway. You can hear her tossing stuff around the master bedroom and when she lets out a mix between a huff and a groan, you know she’s found your jeans.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #babysitter!reader #older!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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kimkaelyn · 5 months ago

Text

Under the Festival Lights [s. todoroki]

→ summary: when a mission wraps up earlier than expected, you and shouto take advantage of the unexpected but welcomed free time to enjoy the local festival.

→ pairing: shouto todoroki x fem!reader

→ word count: 4.9k

→ warnings & tags: sfw, pro hero au, coworkers to lovers, female pronouns, usage of y/n, aged-up characters (early to mid-twenties), reader has a quirk (Heat Sight) and a hero name (Sunspot), brief appearance of child oc, reader down bad, sexual activity is hinted, Shouto may be ooc. | please kindly let me know if I missed any tags!

→ authors note: here is my contribution to the pretty boy summer collab hosted by the amazing @andypantsx3! ngl, writing this was pretty rough so I apologize if it is a little all over the place.

“Well, that was hard,” you mused sarcastically as you walked down the sidewalk, hands stuffed in your pockets. You paid no mind to the staggered gasps from the locals and indiscreetly raised phone cameras as you and your dual-haired companion made your way to the transportation terminal.

The two of you were dispatched to the island in response to a report of a foreign hiker who had fallen from a cliffside. The place he was in was too difficult for the local rescue team to reach, so they called for Pro Heroes to help—you and Shouto. Your Quirks were a good match for this mission; your Heat Sight could easily locate the hiker through his heat signature and Shouto’s Half-Cold Half-Hot could create a path to his location. You arrived at the island within an hour by catching a lift from a Coast Guard helicopter that was also responding to the call, however, when the two of you arrived, you were shocked yet relieved to find the hiker had managed to climb back up on his own. He was fine save for a few cuts and scratches.

“You are fortunate you didn’t sustain life-threatening injuries.” Shouto had advised the man as he was lifted into the helicopter to take him back to the mainland to be evaluated at a hospital, just to be safe.

Your companion hummed. “At least the man is safe.”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Paperwork’s gonna be a breeze.” You would never say it aloud, but part of you was a little disappointed you didn’t get to see the handsome Pro at work—albeit you would be working too so you wouldn’t have much time to check him out.

Shouto didn’t comment further as the two of you continued on your trek.

“Sunspot! Shouto!” a voice suddenly called out. You turned to find a boy who could be no more than seven years old staring up at you with stars in his eyes and smiling the widest grin you think you have ever seen.

“Awe, hi buddy!” you greeted with a smile, immediately squatting down to be at eye level with the boy. “How are you?” You felt your heart squeeze when he began to giggle under your attention. He made a grabbing motion with his hands and you had about five seconds to spread your arms before he ran into your chest. “Oh my, you’re so strong!” you exclaimed with a faux wheeze as you felt his small arms squeeze around your midsection. You gently wrapped your arms around his tiny body, tucking him under your chin.

“My deepest apologies!” a new voice said. You looked up to the young woman you assumed to be the boy’s mother, the matching hair and eye color a dead giveaway. “Yuki doesn’t quite understand personal boundaries yet.”

You smiled, trying to ease her worries. “It’s alright, ma’am,” you assured her. “He’s fine. I don’t mind.” Shouto crouched beside the two of you but you didn’t take your eyes off the boy in your arms. He was so little; you were afraid he would break if you applied any more pressure.

You glanced sideways at the dual-haired Hero next to you. He was staring at you and the boy with a content-like expression on his face.

“Is everything okay, kid?” he asked Yuki. The boy leaned back to see who addressed him, and his eyes widened when he realized it was Pro Hero Shouto who was speaking to him.

“Shouto!” the boy cried, untangling from your arms and flinging himself towards the Pro, who easily caught him just as you had. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched the boy snuggle into his chest, like a baby koala hanging onto its mother.

You heard the mother’s breath hitch at the sight. Me too, girl, you thought as your heart squeezed painfully at how adorable the sight of Shouto embracing the child in his safe hold was as he softly conversed with the boy. “What is your name?”

“Yuki Fukumoto.”

Shouto smiled—not a full teeth smile, just a closed-lip one—at the boy and inclined his head to him. “It is nice to meet you, Yuki. My name is Shouto Todoroki and I am a Pro Hero.”

Yuki giggled enthusiastically. “I know that!” he exclaimed with glee, happiness dripping from his figure like drops from the sun. Instead of you being Sunspot, he should be. “You one of the Tops!”

You hid your snicker behind a hand, basking in the dumbfounded look on Shouto’s face. “Really? Wow, you really do know your Pros, then.” You know he was merely indulging the child, but it still did things to your heart. The boy nodded in affirmation and snuggled deeper into Shouto’s chest.

“Are you here for the festival, Sunspot?” the boy's mother inquired, drawing your attention from the heart-attack-inducing scene before you.

“The festival?” you echoed, your brows turning downward with confusion. “No, ma’am. Shouto and I were dispatched here for a rescue operation but the man was successfully retrieved before we arrived.”

She nodded her understanding. “So that is what the Coast Guard chopper was for.” She muttered, briefly glancing over to Yuki and Shouto, who were discussing the latter’s apprehension of a wanted fugitive a few weeks back. She turned back to you with a smile. “Praise you Heroes for always rushing to the scene, no matter where it is! It must’ve been a bumpy ride.”

You bashfully returned her smile. “You mentioned there is a festival happening?”

“Oh, yes! The island’s annual summer festival is today.” She said, her demeanor brightening as she spoke. “It is a lovely event! Yuki and I were actually on our way there before we ran into you guys.”

“Really? Oh my gosh, ma’am, I am so sorry for holding you up!” you quickly apologized with a bow. You felt your face start to burn as anxiety and embarrassment rose within. You began to step towards Shouto with the intention of yanking him up by his collar and rushing the two of you out of there as fast as possible but the sound of Yuki’s mother’s laughter stopped you.

“Sunspot, I assure you it’s all right.” She raised a hand over her mouth, attempting to quell her laughter. “Besides, it isn’t often we have Pro Heroes on the island, so this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Yuki to meet two of his favorite Heroes.”

Your eyebrow quirked. “Are we the first Heroes he has seen?” you inquired.

“Yes. In-person, at least.” Upon hearing that, you got an idea.

“Ma’am, I don’t want to keep you from your established plans any longer, but would it be all right if we took a quick picture with Yuki before you go?” Shouto directed his attention to the boy's mother at your question, who eagerly nodded her head. With a smile, you crouched in front of Yuki and your partner. “Yuki, would you like to take a photo with us?” At your question, a smile that could rival the sun took over his features once more as the three of you looked to the camera and posed.

“Thank you so much.” Yuki’s mother said, bowing deeply. “Yuki, dear, what do you say to the Heroes?” She prompted her son with a gentle hand on his back.

“Thank you!” the boy said, his eyes sparkling as he excitedly waved goodbye to you and Shouto as his mother led him away.

“He’s so cute!” you exclaimed to your partner as you watched the mother and son disappear around a street corner.

“He was,” Shouto agreed.

“Perhaps his mom will post the photo on social media and we can share it on our pages.” You smiled in excitement, silently hoping you would see the photo on your timeline tonight during your routine browsing while curled up in the warmth of your bed before you drifted off to dreamland.

Your dual-haired companion hummed in either agreement or acknowledgment, you couldn’t tell which. “We should be on our way to the airport now, Sunspot.” Shouto intoned matter of factly. “Our mission wrapped up over an hour ago. We wouldn’t want to keep the pilots waiting longer than necessary.” He said, referring to the pilots for your flight back to the mainland.

“No, we don’t,” you answered with a sigh. So much for checking out the Festival, you thought gloomily. “Alright, let’s go.”

“I’m sorry, but WHAT?!” you exclaimed, mouth open in disbelief.

The check-in desk attendant gave you a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and that’s when you felt the subtle annoyance radiating from her. “I’m sorry, but all outgoing flights, both on planes and helicopters, are grounded for the night due to a sudden and fast-developing storm system in the Bay.”

“What about the ferry?” Shouto asked. He was standing beside you, five times more level-headed than you were at the moment. “A ferry runs twice a day to and from the mainland.”

“You are correct, Shouto, about the scheduled ferry,” the attendant said, barely holding back the bite of her words. “But no boats are coming in either. The surf is too rough.” She eyed the two of you as she paused to take a sip of coffee. “With all due respect, no sane Captain would sail out in those conditions; Hero or not.” A smirk grew on her lips, her eyes lighting up as she continued. “If you are so desperate to return to the mainland by tonight, I suggest you two should contact your ‘friends’. Perhaps Endeavor or All Might can send somebody to pick you up.” That said, she harshly pulled down the window blinds, ending the conversation. The metallic clatter echoed ominously through the terminal lobby—emphasizing the finality of her actions and the reality of your situation.

The two of you stood there in shocked silence for a moment before Shouto released a heavy sigh and massaged his temples.

“Who spit in her coffee,” you grumbled under your breath as you crossed your arms. “That was such a low blow—what she said.” When your dual-haired companion didn’t immediately reply, you turned to check on him. He was staring off into space, a hand positioned on his chin as he seemingly pondered the next course of action for the two of you. If he was irked by the attendant’s comment about the ex-Flame Hero, he hid it well.

“Hey,” your soft, reassuring voice brought him out of his thoughts. You placed a hand on his bicep—shoving down the excited twist of your stomach when his muscles tensed and bulged under your touch. “I’m sorry this whole day hasn’t gone according to plan but we shouldn’t stress over it.” You smiled softly. “Let’s look at the bright side; we have some time to R&R! We can explore the island, taste the local cuisine—have some time to ourselves to be civilians instead of Pro Heroes.”

Shouto stared at you in what could almost be controlled bewilderment as he thought over your proposition. You caught a glimmer in his heterochromatic eyes and knew he had made a decision. “Okay,” he agreed with a nod. “What should we do?” he questioned. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, Yuki’s mom mentioned there’s a festival in town today and said that we should check it out before we leave.” You explained. “It’s been so long since I’ve attended a summer festival and I think this will be a nice way to spend the evening.” You smiled as you thought back to your youth when you would spend every summer up until middle school at your grandma’s. She had a large backyard garden where she would grow vegetables such as cucumbers, edamame, and tomatoes to sell at the community market and the town’s yearly end-of-the-season festival. You fondly remember helping her load the wagon with the produce and walking to the market every morning at sunrise. While your grandma was selling her vegetables, you would run up and down the festival grounds with a few local children, playing games and stuffing your tiny faces with kakigori, takoyaki, and whatever other sweets you could get your hands on.

Shouto’s voice brought you back to the present. “I have never been to a summer festival before.” He stated nonchalantly. “I would like to attend my first one with you tonight.”

Your eyes widened and you felt warmth rush to your face at his words. “O-okay,” you stuttered. “Awesome!” You clasped your hands together. “Let’s get going, then!”

Ten minutes later, you and Shouto were back walking around the streets of the quaint island town. Once again the locals and tourists gawked at the two of you as you made your way to the festival grounds, but no one approached. You and Shouto made small talk on your way, discussing the fast-approaching Hero Gala next month.

“I met with my designer last week, but for the life of me, I cannot decide what color I want to wear—let alone what dress!” you groused, hands wildly moving about as you explained your dilemma to your partner. “I am running out of time and that doesn’t aid in my decision-making. Deadlines just make me want to procrastinate more.”

Shouto hummed. “I wear the same suit with a different tie and undershirt,” he glanced at you. “Why do you not do the same with a dress?” His dry tone made him sound condescending to those who didn’t know the dual-haired Pro Hero as well as you do, but you knew he was making a genuine inquiry.

You laughed. “I guess I could do that, but we women are under different expectations than you men. If I were to do that, the press would call me lazy and unmotivated.” You shrugged. “Believe me, if the press's opinion didn’t matter so much in our line of work, I would wear whatever the hell I wanted to the Gala.”

The corners of your partner’s mouth tilted upwards at your statement, but it only lasted a moment. “If you are having difficulty choosing a color then perhaps you should wear the same color as me,” he suggested. “We can match.”

“Really?” you asked, taken aback. “Wouldn’t that be kinda weird?”

“I do not see how it could be seen as unusual for us to do so. We work at the same Agency and are partners.”

I can see the logic behind that, you thought. But people would think we are a couple. The two of you moved to the side to let an elderly couple walk by undisturbed. “Thank you,” the man tipped his hat. You smiled and nodded your head, watching as he and his wife continued on their way. You cleared your throat when you and Shouto were side-by-side again. “Well, what color are you wearing this year?”

“Blue,” he responded without pause. “I think this specific shade would look ravishing on you, Y/N. It will bring out the color of your eyes.”

“R-really?” you inquired, breath hitching. You were shocked by Shouto’s forwardness. Where did the reserved boy you had known go? Though you weren’t necessarily complaining. “You think so?”

The dual-haired boy nodded again. “I do.”

Before you could reply, the two of you rounded a corner and found yourselves at the festival grounds. Your attention was immediately snagged by the atmosphere; the sounds of children laughing as they ran around with their small kites and ribbons, the smell of takoyaki fresh off the griddle, and the taste of happiness in the air. Your brain was going into overdrive, rapidly taking in your surroundings.

There were so many different stalls and food being served that you didn’t know where to begin. As if the gods could sense your pause, suddenly the most mouthwatering scent hit your nostrils. You spun on your heel, searching for the source—there! The delicious scent emitted from a small stall, operated by a gentle-looking older man and tucked into the corner of the grounds almost out of sight. You quickly made your way over, forgetting Shouto in your haste.

As you approached, you caught sight of the source of the scent; choco-banana. You must’ve had the stars shining in your eyes as you gazed at the treats because the man chuckled when you caught his eye.

“Why, hello there, young miss.” He greeted. “Would you like some choco-banana?” He was already placing a couple on a plate before you could respond.

“Thank you,” you said as you took the offered plate. You reached a hand towards where your purse would usually be at your side and gasped when you felt nothing but air. Your eyes widened and your heart sank as you remembered you were still in your Hero costume and your purse was miles away back at the agency building. “I’m sorry, sir, but—”

You were interrupted by an arm appearing in front of you, money in hand. You blinked and turned to find Shouto standing there. “Is this enough for two plates, sir?” he asked.

The stall worker eagerly nodded. “Sir, this is more than enough. Just wait a second while I get your change.” Shouto’s raised hand stopped him.

“Keep the change.” He said, picking up his own plate of choco-banana—when did he get that?—and leading you away from the stand towards a group of picnic tables.

“Thank you, Shouto,” you said as you sat down. “That was very kind.”

Your dual-haired partner met your eye, his stare holding the same intensity as always. “There is no need to thank me,” he told you. “If I did not want to pay, I wouldn’t have.”

You gaped at him. “That’s not what I meant—” your words caught in your throat when you saw the corner of his mouth lift into a smile for the second time that day. This little—

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he reassured you. “This is my treat.”

You looked away, no longer able to hold that dreamy, intense gaze of his. “Fine,” you grumbled. “But let me pay next time.” He gave you a look that screamed ‘in your dreams’ but you let it drop for now.

The two of you finished your choco-banana in silence, contently observing your surroundings. You spotted a couple steal a kiss under the cover of darkness provided by an alleyway and watched as a group of children kicked a football around.

Shouto threw away your empty plate for you. When he returned, he asked; “Now what?”

Before you could respond, a loud shriek cut through the evening air. You and Shouto stiffened, immediately on high alert for an attack. Your hands clenched at your sides as you scanned the area for the source of the sound and any indication of an attack. You turned to face the alleyway where the couple were, but they were gone. You and Shouto were back-to-back, scanning the area when suddenly, the group of children who were playing football came rushing towards you, giggling loudly.

“Sunspot! Shouto!” a boy leading the charge hollered as they reached you; about seven to eight children. Where are their parents, you wondered. Shouto turned to stand at your side as the kids came to a stop.

“What is it?” he asked. “Is there danger nearby?” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his heterochromatic eyes narrow as he awaited a response.

A girl, no more than five, clasped her tiny hands together and stepped forward. She looked at the ground as she spoke, afraid to meet the eyes of two Pro Heroes. “We wan’ yous to play wit’ wus!” she announced.

You bent over, placing your hands on your knees, and looked at the children. “Were you guys the source of the scream we heard a few moments ago?” you softly inquired. The children looked at each other, silently exchanging words before nodding. “Why did you scream?” you questioned.

Another girl stepped forward. She had ribbons in her hair, holding the locks up in matching pigtails. “We wanted to get your attention.” She confessed, looking apologetic. “You didn’t look busy so we thought it would be okay if you guys played with us for a while.”

You sighed and glanced at your partner, gauging his expression before turning back to the children. Shouto addressed the children next. “That was not smart of you, children.” You gaped at him, not expecting him to be so blunt but at the same time, you weren’t surprised. This was Shouto, after all. “You should only scream when you are in danger. Do you understand?” The children nodded. “Now then, what game do you want to play?”

You quickly lost track of time as you and Shouto were dragged around the festival by the children, playing various stall games such as ring tosses and goldfish catching and playing football and catch with others. As the night went on, you had gathered a small army of the local children who followed your every move. You didn’t mind, used to the crowds that typically surrounded you when you went out in public wearing your Hero costume, but this was different—almost special in a way.

You were creating core memories for these children, and that fact warmed your heart. In the years following the War, everyone had worked hard to earn back the public’s faith in Heroes and you were witnessing the fruit of your labor right here in front of you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much fun, running around carefree; as if nothing in the world mattered besides this moment. You almost envied the children for their carefreeness—their innocence—that hadn’t been upturned by the evils of the world. As you watched Shouto play a quick game of football with some of the boys—basking in the cheers and laughter of the youth—you silently vowed that you would do everything in your power, even at the cost of your life, to preserve these children’s innocence.

Eventually, the night got darker and your playful bliss had to come to an end. Parents began to call for their children, and one by one, they left after wrapping you and Shouto in the biggest hugs.

Eventually, only one child remained; the little girl with the pigtails, who you learned is named Mai. She looked up at you with bright, brown eyes full of curiosity and joy. “Are you staying for the fireworks?”

“Fireworks?” you inquired. “I did not know there were fireworks tonight.”

“Neither did I,” Shouto intoned, his voice low.

Mai smiled widely as if she just revealed the secret of the universe to you. “Mm-hmm!” she nodded. “At the end of every festival, fireworks are released into the air! They go BOOM!” She shot her hands outward, mimicking the exploding gunpowder. “It is my favorite part of the festivals! Do you like fireworks, Sunspot?”

You crouched, preferring to be at eye level of children when speaking to them. “Of course I do.” You told her. “Where do you go to watch the fireworks, hun? Do you have a favorite spot where you watch them from?”

“Yup!” she exclaimed, popping the ‘p’. “Usually we all gather on boats offshore to watch them, but we can’t do that because of the storm, so most people are just going to stay in the grounds and watch them. But—” She turned and pointed towards the outskirts of town, where a hill was just barely visible over the buildings. “I also like to go to the top of that hill and watch them!”

You observed the hill. It does look like the best spot if you want a good view, you thought.

“What is the best route to the hill, Miss Mai?” Shouto asked the girl.

Mai giggled, probably due to being asked a question by the No. 1 Hero, holding a hand to her mouth before she gave the two of you directions.

Shouto obtained a pastel blue lawn blanket from a vendor as the two of you made your way out of the festival grounds toward the hill. You picked a spot at the summit, away from others, and Shouto gracefully laid the blanket down where you had pointed. He waited for you to get situated before sitting down himself.

There was a gentle breeze blowing through the air. Down below, the cheers and excited mumblings from adults and children alike slowly filtered up to you and Shouto.

“This was great.” You suddenly announced after several minutes of silence. Shouto turned towards you, silently imploring you to elaborate. “Being able to spend this time with you as regular members of society enjoying a summer festival.” You gazed over to your partner, taking in his facial features—carefully blank, as usual, but there was a hint of something in his eyes but you couldn’t catch exactly what. Your breath hitched when you realized just how radiant he looked in the little light from the town that managed to reach him. “Thank you, Shouto.” For what, you are not sure, but it felt right at the moment.

He started at you for several moments, seemingly processing you and your words. As the minutes passed and his intense gaze remained fixated on you, the more anxious you got. Did I say the wrong thing, you wondered, stomach dropping. Was that the wrong thing to say?

You looked away, breaking the staring contest. “S-sorry.” You stuttered out, embarrassed.

“No.” Shouto suddenly said, surprising you. You hadn’t expected him to say anything, let alone that. You began to turn your head back towards him, but two fingers on your chin brought you eye-to-eye before you could yourself. You stared wide-eyed at the dual-haired man holding your chin. “Do not apologize, Y/N,” he said. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He leaned in. “In fact, I should be the one apologizing—for keeping things to myself.” He continued before you could question him. “I share your sentiments, Y/N. I feel the same way and more about tonight and this time I have shared with you.”

You gapped at him, unable to form words for a moment as you processed his words. Oh my gosh, is he confessing to me right now? “You do?” you eventually gasped out, voice nearly a whisper. This was happening so fast—

“I do,” Shouto confirmed. He inhaled as if in preparation for what he was going to say next. “I have thoroughly enjoyed every second I have spent with you since you became my partner several months ago. I was a fool to not properly identify the emotions I feel whenever I am with you—whenever I think of you—until tonight.” You had stopped breathing sometime during his speech, unable to take in air as you held onto every word that exited that beautiful mouth of his. His hands cupped your face, his eyes admiring every part of your features. “Please forgive me, love, for taking so long to confess, but I am here now, doing so.”

You felt like your heart was about to beat outside your chest as he spoke, mind fogging as you stared at his perfect, plump lips as they moved to form the words of his confession. The two of you stared at each other for several more moments. You mindlessly wondered if you were dreaming.

Shouto chuckled. He ran a hand through your hair, captivated by the way his hand moved through the locks. “You are not,” he softly told you. “This is real.” Your cheeks warmed when you realized you had asked that out loud. “Now, can I kiss you?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you brought him in for a kiss. The moment your lips connected, a loud BOOM exploded in the sky accompanied by bright red and blue light. The two of you broke the kiss to look up, gazing at the fireworks. You smiled when you realized the two of you had just shared your first kiss, and you did indeed see fireworks when your lips touched. You turned back to Shouto, and by his smirk, you knew he had thought the same thing.

You laughed before bringing him into another kiss.

Fin.

BONUS SCENE:

You felt like you were on cloud nine as the two of you walked along the streets, hand in hand. There was no specific destination in mind; the two of you enjoying the other’s company and this time together. For several hours, the two of you forgot about your Pro Hero duties and the stress and demands of your careers. Neither of you agonized over the report you would have to draw up when you returned to the mainland. If there was a Heaven on Earth, this evening you shared with Shouto was it.

“Let’s purchase a room for the night.”

You hadn’t registered Shouto had spoken right away, too caught up in admiring the neon lights that lit up the front of some restaurants and bars. It took a total of five seconds for your brain to comprehend the words he had spoken, and when it did, the bliss you had felt since your kiss up on the hill came to a sudden, screeching halt as you froze in your tracks.

“W-what!??!!” you exclaimed with a shriek, whipping your head around to the dual-haired male. You rapidly blinked, ensuring you were still awake and not having some crazy dream. “W-why would we do th-that?”

Shouto gave you a puzzled look. “To sleep in, of course.” He stated, tone dead-serious and leaving no room for argument. “What other reason are there for staying in an inn for the night?”

You felt your cheeks heat with amusement and embarrassment as you chuckled nervously. “Never mind!” you chirped. “Let’s go find that room so we can get some sleep.”

You did not, in fact, get any sleep that night.

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