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malleleothreesome · 5 months

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Blindfolded Malleus

💚 summary: You edge Malleus while he's blindfolded ༶༶༶ 💚 warnings: gender neutral reader, you go to TOWN on those horns of his, brief mention of Malleus wanting to breed you, blowjob, penis in [gender neutral hole] sex, creampie ༶༶༶ 💚 word count: 6.6k words ༶༶༶ 💚 inspired by: @creepysun-cpsunnhild's ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

Malleus sits patiently on his bed, hands clasped on his lap, buzzing with nervous excitement as he waits for you to join him. He is already stripped down to only his boxers, eager to begin the night's festivities.

"Are you nervous?" you ask him as you rummage around in your backpack before finally pulling out a silky black blindfold purchased from the secret backroom of Sam's shop.

Malleus blinks, mouth parting slightly in the way he does when surprised, "A little? This is rather... novel for me." His lips fall into a pout. "Being unable to see your face is strange. I won't get to enjoy your expression as you pleasure me..."

You zip up your backpack and saunter over to his bed where Malleus waits, boxers tented around the evidence that he is looking forward to this, despite his apprehensions. You flash him a mischievous smile as you crawl over to him on the bed, settling in a straddle across his thighs. "That will just force you to be more sensitive to my touch," you coo as you cup his soft, milky cheek in your hand, admiring the complete beauty of his face for a final moment before you blindfold him. As he returns your loving gaze, his slitted pupils start to widen from desire and you watch in awe as his verdant irises are completely swallowed by inky pools of hunger. “I promise you won't even miss my face in the heat of the moment,” you try to reassure him.

He scoffs before murmuring in a low, smoky voice, "You know me far better than that, child of man." And yet, despite his objections, he obediently tilts his chin down, lowering his lashes as he allows you to place the black silk over his face. Malleus inhales sharply as the light suddenly dims to complete darkness. He stills like a startled creature of the forest as his sight leaves him, his muscles tense and his eyelids twitch under the silk as he comes to terms with his new vulnerability. You stop straddling him, denying him the comforting warmth of your thighs against his as you crouch on your knees beside him. He growls as you refuse to indulge his lust, remaining perfectly still as he struggles to find his bearings. You want him to simmer with arousal before you ease his longing—a little frustration will make his eventual orgasm that much more satisfying.

His innate magical ability attempts to compensate for the obscuration of his eyes by granting him heightened senses that would guide him in a perilous situation. He finds himself hyper aware of the beating of your heart and the slow rhythmic cadence of your breathing. The tension between your still bodies grows palpable. Your heartbeats thrum synchronically with the silent yearning of two lovers desperate to press skin against skin. Malleus is so ethereally beautiful, your heart can’t help but leap every time you look at him. The black silk shrouding his vision only serves to emphasize the handsome cut of his jaw and his sharp, seductive lips, parted in breathless anticipation. The glossy fabric paints a dark tapestry against the snowy hues of his skin. A lock of his viridian hair slips along his forehead in a way that accentuates the graceful curve of his brow. Every fiber of his being drips with all the charms of an otherworldly prince, an untouchable enigma that transcends mortal understanding. Yet he sits there, completely bared to you, stripped of his power, a masterpiece defaced by a veil of cloth; a prize awaiting the taking.

Despite his lack of sight, he can feel your gaze on him like a physical caress, causing goosebumps to sprout across his alabaster skin and his ears and cheeks to bloom a flustered rose-red. He knows you are simply teasing him, but the sensation of being denied his favorite view of his beloved is utterly infuriating. Yet, something about being without your gaze stirs the desire within him. When your lovemaking has reached its peak in the past, the sight of your flushed cheeks and blissed out expression has made his blood run hot and has left him in the throes of the most pleasurable high. Not being able to gaze upon you will allow him to focus his whole being upon the ecstasy he feels every time he is brought to climax. This denial will amplify the sensations he will feel in the midst of passion and he finds himself anxiously anticipating how overwhelming those emotions might be. His cock grows harder and twitches excitedly at the thought and he bites his lip to contain the groans of arousal rising up in the back of his throat. Your proximity, despite him being unable to see your form, is positively maddening. Now that sight is taken away, the darkness is acting like an aphrodisiac. He wants nothing more than to lose himself to desire, touch, scent, and sound—to bring both of your hearts racing and be subsumed in an orgasmic trance. And so, the anticipation of the evening ahead courses through Malleus' body in electric tremors, setting his soul on fire. For someone with the lifespan of a fae, a moment is but a speck of sand on a shore, yet every minute you make him wait seems to drag into torturous eternity. He wants—no, he craves to take you and bask in the throes of passionate euphoria... Yet, he sits there, at the mercy of you and the unfolding events.

His growing sexual frustration sends a surge of wicked mischief through your blood as you crouch on the plush duvet alongside him. Malleus feels the bed shift and your body moving ever closer, then the caress of your hot breath tickling against his neck, near his sensitive ears, just a whisper away. He shudders deliciously as the phantom sensation of your moist, parted lips nears his bare shoulder, sending a chill through his entire body that culminates in a tingling tightness that pulses through his dick, which has reached full mast and throbs painfully in his boxers. Just as he is beginning to move his mouth to admonish you for such cruel teasing, his body suddenly jerks in surprise as he is overcome by the wet and gentle pressure of your mouth suckling ever so gently against his sensitive nape, right in that one spot, the one you know makes his knees turn to jelly. Malleus can't help the startled gasp that falls from his mouth as his body surrenders entirely, arching slightly at the pleasurable sensation, head lulling back just a little. He shivers as your palms ghost across his bare chest in a featherlight graze, sighing as his muscles are soothed by the balmy smoothness of your hands. You seem intent on teasing his neck—tugging, suckling, kissing, licking—and the teasing wet heat and gentle suction against his throat drives him to near delirium. The muscles of his neck tense as he gulps down heavy breaths, and you revel in the sound of him fighting desperately to contain his lust, your mouth quirking up into a smirk against his throat. His head leans back further to grant you more access to his soft flesh, and he resists the urge to stroke himself, biting his lower lip as your kisses start to descend along his pectorals, your tongue teasing at a hardened nipple before continuing to worship him down his abdominal muscles to the dip of his hips and eventually stopping just short of where he really wants it. Malleus is panting, almost as if in time with his throbbing member as it demands attention, yet your fingers remain above the waistband, tempting him.

"Keep going," he commands quietly, craving more than your hesitant brushes, his heart quickening at the sound of your own racing pulse. You have found a delicious torment in delaying him, and his inability to see your next move has caused his whole body to come alive. Malleus bites his lower lip harder, nearly breaking skin to maintain his self control as your fingertips barely push at the elastic band of his underwear, your nails only teasing the thin trail of hair below his navel. The tiniest contact is overwhelming on his skin, leaving a blazing trail in the wake of the featherlight touch, and a trembling warmth deep within him as his desire crescendos. Every part of him is suddenly alert, drinking up the ambiance, the muffled silence only adding an ethereal atmosphere of mystique to his hazy world of arousal and delight. "My love, please give me more," he begs. The strained edge in his voice stirs the rising excitement within you and your core aches at his ardent need. A little hitch in your breath catches his attention. Without the ability to watch your expressions, his sharp ears have begun to strain to hear every indication of arousal from you.

A bratty whine escapes Malleus' pouting lips as you completely withdraw your hands, body heat disappearing as you leave him exposed. The void of your warmth leaves him cold, an abyss to match his own darkness, yet he is lost for words as your mouth finds his erect cock through the fabric of his boxers, swallowing his bulge, the friction of your dampened tongue against him shooting straight to his balls. Your saliva bleeds through the cloth in a thick stain as you use your mouth to slowly torture him, knowing this is driving him insane. A jumble of pants and unintelligible phrases fall from the normally reserved Malleus' mouth and his hands fist themselves in the bedsheets, threatening to rip them in his pent-up ecstasy, knuckles stark white in strain as he groans. Your relentless hot and wet pressure on his erection is turning him into a salacious mess, but it's not nearly enough—he's desperate to feel your skin and a feral growl rattles around in his throat. His instinctive need to seize control of the situation becomes clouded in the heady fog of the erotic pleasure that your touches instill within him, a thrall he's unfamiliar with but too far gone to resist. When he thinks he can't stand the sweetly agonizing tease any longer, your lips pull away, leaving him wanting for your moist, breathy heat to return to him. Malleus whines piteously, squirming in place in silent desperation, fists tightly balled.

Your heart soars when you hear him making these vulnerable little noises of absolute submission to his craving for your body—as much as you know his primal urges are telling him to toss you onto his lap and take you, his dedication to your sadistic game prevents his true lusts from prevailing. He wants to ravage you, to gorge himself on your flesh as you scream his name into his pillows, to bite down on the crook of your neck when he's plunging deep within your hot, aching depth. Instead, he endures his cock's ceaseless torment.

As you contemplate your next course of action, your eyes settle on the enigmatic vestigial holdover from his ancestors—his horns. Growing directly from his skull and twisting in two thick curves adorned with glowing flecks of opulent teal, they frame his beautiful visage with an unmistakable air of eerie mystique. Intrigued by the sharp, slender peaks, you straddle Malleus' lap once again, his aching need nudging up against your clothed sex and making him groan from the limited pleasure he finally receives. He never eluded to any sensuality about the pointed projections adoring his head, but your curious lust can't help but wonder if they're erogenous. It certainly wouldn't surprise you if the fearsome protrusions were a weakness for your beautiful and powerful lover. If they could invoke in him a tantalizing rush of decadent sensation, they would surely aid you in his titillation. His previous words of caution ring in your mind—"You're welcome to touch them… though I can't guarantee what would happen to you if you did."—yet your perversion yearns to test out your theory.

You slowly lean your bodyweight towards his head until he feels you looming over him, your body's warmth fanning over his face and giving a comforting presence to his empty, disoriented world. The hint of a smirk curls at the corner of his lips as he begins to tilt his face, wrongfully expecting a kiss. Malleus had suspected your lusts would soon get the better of you and would ultimately yield him the rapture he seeks. You don't even notice the way his mouth opens slightly, wet, plush lips eagerly awaiting yours. The air between you two is electric with a smoldering, simmering need, threatening to spark into something raging. However, you swerve his inviting kiss, instead placing both your hands firmly against each horn, beginning a gentle massage on the cool bone. You can’t help but grin in prideful victory when a yelp falls from Malleus' lips and he bucks upwards, his hips suddenly snapping with wild impulse in a carnal attempt to sheathe his engorged cock within the beckoning warmth of your tight hole. Malleus' shocked gasp shifts into a guttural, feral sound. His blood is filled with electricity and lust, the lewd sounds emanating from deep within him like a forbidden spell of obscene delight.

The rumble of his inhuman grumble rolls through his entire chest, and the vibration of the low, loud noise goes straight to your throbbing sex. His reaction to you is deliciously intense, and you begin to twist and rub your thumb and index finger around the ridges of the horns, tracing the shapes and sending tiny shivers down Malleus' spine. You watch him, holding your breath in captivated awe as his upper lip lifts into a snarl and his bottom lip falls, allowing another dirty, draconic growl to spill out. The blackness of his vision leaves his mind no choice but to sink deeper into carnal euphoria, his mouth hanging agape and eyes rolling behind his blindfold, the pale skin of his cheeks becoming flushed as he drowns in the overwhelming sensations that consume him entirely. You run your fingernail up and down the sides of his horns simultaneously with a tantalizing tickle, and Malleus' head jerks in your grasp, neck muscles tense with shock from how amazingly sensitive this area of him is. With a naughty grin you plant a messy, wet kiss on one horn, then drag your teeth along the slick surface while your fingers begin a slow, erotic massage where the base of his horn meets the tender skin of his scalp. A downright depraved string of nonsensical, fragmented curses of ecstasy tumble from Malleus' throat. As his primal urge to breed overrides any common sense, the harsh sting of claws dig into the delicate skin of your forearms.

Your caress on his horns is like having the tips of every nerve of his being stimulated at once. His hips start thrusting almost automatically, as though his brain no longer commands him with any sort of reason. His desires take full control, acting on instinct to rut against anything and everything, and a hot ache ripples through his nether regions. The undergarment that traps him from absolute nirvana becomes uncomfortably tight, as his manhood pushes the limits of what the cotton material can bear. A damp and translucent stain of precum has bled through onto the fabric. His mind is swirling with a heady cocktail of lust, love, and urgency—the absence of sight heightening every aspect, every molecule of physical joy, creating a searing, constant arousal deep within him. At last, you have coaxed your regal Prince to reach a whole new state of passion.

You can feel yourself becoming more aroused with each erotic sound you draw from Malleus' throat, as your love for him is mixed with your innate masochism to torture and tease, causing a molten heat to blossom within you. Unable to deny him any longer, you let your lips fall to his mouth and Malleus eagerly reciprocates without hesitation, the heat between the two of you almost unbearable. Teeth clash as he hungrily devours your lips and his arms fly to pull you close so he may sink himself into your flesh and keep you for an eternity, one arm slipping to your lower back and pressing you towards him, his other hand weaving itself through your soft locks. This is what Malleus longed for: the warmth, the wetness, and the sinful slide of your tongue against his. His heart is set ablaze as you grip onto his face, cradling the beloved contours in an almost desperate plea to be as near him as possible, wanting to hold your lover to your body until he melts within you. His deep, sonorous moans of lecherous longing resonate throughout your whole body, echoing in the cavern of your very soul until it makes your heart weep with an overwhelming love and passion. You realize now, more than ever, how dear this fae Prince is to you, how absolutely crucial he has become for your every living moment. As Malleus hungrily chases every ounce of physical sensation he can achieve through the one person that matters the most to him, he feels the exact same love and desperation well in him and pour into his kiss, transmitting his emotions back to you. The blindfold begins to dampen from his overflowing tears as the magnitude of your passion for him stirs a surge of affection and desire that nearly rips his beating heart out of his chest. He clutches you ever closer as a small sob rises up, overcome by his love for the beguiling little mortal whose unconditional acceptance and magical charms have entranced him since day one. You drink up his ardent devotion like a life-sustaining elixir.

Eventually, you break the kiss with a moan and slide off his body, and he mourns your warmth against him, a lonely tear absorbing into the silk. Malleus cannot contain a whimper, as his blood pulses so fiercely, a carnal and primal drive floods his being. It is beyond lust, beyond physical desire—you have reignited the very core of who he is as an eternal, draconic prince and have reminded him of the fire that beats within his breast. His body aches and throbs in equal amounts sexual and emotional passion, his need to release so intense that his breaths come in short, quick pants. His muscles spasm uncontrollably from the sensations running rampant in every extremity, and he sobs with pent-up desire, clawing at the duvet as though it would relieve the ceaseless, tortuous pressure that plagues him. His heart yearns, yet his libido aches, the girth of his dick straining against his waistband like a caged animal desperate to break free from its bindings and let the true beast emerge.

A relieved sigh escapes him when, a moment later, your cool, soft hands dip below the elastic of his boxers and gently slide them down and off. His erect cock slaps against his stomach, weeping pearls of precum and glistening from the prolonged sexual torture of the evening, standing at full attention. Its girthy length twitches with impatience. One teasing fingertip just barely grazes its tip, gathering the beads of lust and dragging them along his length. A strained yelp forces its way out of Malleus' parched and trembling lips, and his whole body tenses, toes curling. The sheets are being pulled in the violent vice grip of his fists, the sheer force of his magical grip threatening to rip them in half. You begin to languidly trace along his shaft at a tantalizingly slow and soft pace, driving him out of his mind. It's barely enough contact to get any satisfaction, yet far more than enough to make him jolt at the blissful sparks that you ignite within him. You ghost your breath across the length, blowing air on his heated flesh as a paltry reward to Malleus' plight. He cries your name in a pitchy, agonized tone as your hands pull away and he tries not to sob with frustration at the lack of touch. Before he can complain, a new, torturous sensation wracks his frame: the phantasmagoric feeling of soft, pillowy lips dragging against the tip of his shaft, eliciting a filthy whine and a throaty gasp. He feels more wet heat around his sensitive glans as your tongue bathes the area with hot saliva, savoring the briny taste of his essence, then leaving him abruptly. You're far too much of a tease, giving him just a sample before pulling away. His balls feel painfully swollen as he reaches his limit and his member seizes with another sharp throb of arousal.

And then, with a wet squelch, the heat of your mouth descends onto the entirety of his rock-hard erection, taking him all in to the hilt. Your cheeks hallow to create suction as your tongue swirls around his engorged tip and your throat relaxes as his length is buried down your throat, holding your breath and stifling your gag reflex for a brief moment before bobbing your head up and down, fucking his hard dick with your mouth and salivating profusely over his thick length. The sweetly sinful sensation of his throbbing erection buried deep down your esophagus causes his mind to shut off, his brain short-circuiting from the intensity of pleasure. Your talented tongue swirls and twirls around the mushroom tip while your hands massage up and down along his shaft, working his flesh in synchronous harmony, threatening to break him down into a quivering mess under the expertise of your skilled mouth. It's absolutely obscene, how willingly your jaw hangs wide for him, how you guzzle up every inch of his thick cock as though he's the best meal of your life.

Now that you have him back where you want him, you take your time torturing him by switching your rhythm every time his groans begin to sound too desperate, denying him the relief his poor aching cock so desperately craves. You gently guide his shaft upright with a tug of your hand, angling his thick cock directly into your mouth and ensuring you completely envelop his tip in your throat. Every time you hollow your cheeks and move his throbbing erection in and out of your mouth at a vigorous pace, Malleus is unable to hold his voice back. He tosses his head back, letting your tongue lavish the underside of his cock. The velvety heat of your tongue sweeps from the base all the way to his glans, lapping across his slit before wrapping your lips around his thick girth again. Your tongue meticulously teases and suckles on his sweet spots, knowing that because of his loss of vision he is acutely aware of every change in pressure, every shift in the path of your tongue, and every powerful stroke of your hand. You have successfully reduced the unshakeable Prince of Thorns into a mess of low moans and ragged, staccato breaths. Your name comes out in pleading pants, like he's calling to you to take his seed and give him the relief he desires so desperately. Your sucking and swirling heat pulls Malleus' balls up closer, tight and ready, his member starting to spasm as his end rushes ever nearer.

"Dearest..." Malleus murmurs as softly as possible, shuddering as pleasure lances through him like lightning, barely audible above the squelches and wet smacks, his hips bucking frantically now, "I beg of you... Please, do not be cruel. I cannot—please." You know how sensitive he is to touch, his every nerve is so over stimulated, and his blindness is making everything hit a whole new level.

"That's enough—hnnnng. This is far too much for me to handle... You're truly evil for using my body like this—oh, do not stop—" A litany of indecencies flow forth in an increasingly erratic rhythm to accompany the melodious cadence of his dulcet moans. Every time you push his length down your throat, he thinks you've given up playing around and finally decided to let him spill his hot load, only for you to relent at the last second and reduce your fervency. He curses your name, promising retaliation later in the form of the most passionate fucking of your entire life. The cruel torture begins anew with a playful kiss on his tip or a lewd slurp at the base of his cock as your hands fondle and caress him. It is almost inhuman the level of control his child of man has to be able to push him close to the edge and retreat with surgical precision, again and again, leaving him in complete anguish.

The hard tip of his cock slams the back of your throat, threatening to suffocate your breath and sending a deluge of saliva trickling down his swollen balls and slickening your lips. He cannot suppress the rough and rapid snapping of his hips against you, plunging his penis to the very end, every lunge making you gag. When you swallow and clench your throat around his length, Malleus' breaths dissolve into frantic wheezes, his chest heaving, unable to even finish his sentence before his lungs are sucked empty in ecstasy. Your hands cup the heavy, weighted balls beneath, fingers and nails digging in slightly before gripping onto his ass as you swallow around his entire girth, pumping his dick in rhythm with his thrusts as if to milk him and show no mercy. Your muffled squeals of encouragement spur Malleus on, the sounds you're making giving him permission to use your mouth like his own personal fuck-toy, his own filthy fantasy. His eyes squeeze shut behind the blindfold as the red, pulsing void suddenly fills with the vivid memory of the look on your face the last time he pounded your face so mercilessly, that wonderful face all covered in his seed, cheeks dripping with his creamy splatter. He moans brokenly as his fantasies meld with reality in the blinding darkness. The sheer act of being able to fully appreciate and wallow in the sense of absolute decadent delight his beloved grants him, as well as your own enthusiasm for him—all these sensations surge forth in a mighty torrent. Malleus knows you're preparing to build him up to a devastating peak of passion.

With a firm yet gentle grip, you dig the tips of your fingers into the ample flesh of your lover's thighs, feeling their toned rippling as you keep him in place. Your fingernails sink a little, creating faint, red trails in your wake, marking Malleus' flawless skin as evidence of your claim over his body. Without warning, his hard length slips out of your wet lips with an obscene pop, and the fae Prince whimpers once more from the cold drafts of the dorm room settling over his sopping, saliva-coated member.

Before he has any time to register the shock of the loss, the bedsheets shift again under your movements as you swiftly remove your underwear before returning to position on your knees outside of his open legs. He holds his breath, eagerly anticipating the impending penetration of his lover's deepest parts and the messy release of the tight knot of sexual desire within the pit of his stomach. A baritone, satisfied groan bursts from the depths of Malleus' lungs as your warmth encases his erection, sheathing his dick in an endless flow of slippery heat and the most luxurious pressure. It is one of his favorite pleasures to hold you close after having penetrated your deepest core and simply stay there to savor the ecstatic sensations. Nothing can replicate the pure feeling of euphoric fulfillment and unadulterated bliss when your lower half is connected as closely as it possibly can with his—both of your intimate zones smoldering in the ecstasy of total conjoining, bodies becoming one and unified, your souls entwined in a kiss. His toes curl and his muscles shudder, but before he can adjust, you start moving, using your hips to ride his lap.

Your thighs settle snugly around Malleus' hips, your weight rocking forward to penetrate your loins deeper on his member and envelop every inch of him until his hard cock reaches the deepest regions of your core. Malleus can barely comprehend what's going on, his mind drowning in an ocean of the purest pleasure, his hands searching desperately for yours as you place his palms on either side of your waist for a good grip. His lover's palms, made small by the bulk of his own, have only moments ago been manipulating his sensitive erection and granting him such euphoria. To touch the very appendages that have stimulated him, to hold you steady, to feel the love that flows through the both of you—the thrill of the experience sets Malleus' mind into overdrive, the preciousness of his time together with you compounding with his heightened physical sensations in a stunning synthesis. A symphony of sexy, wet noises of colliding bodies, creaking mattress, and throaty gasps and moans echo throughout his lonely, shadowy abyss, and Malleus feels as though his senses are being pleasurably overwhelmed. Malleus shoves his cock ever deeper within, nudging against the slick flesh with feverish abandon. He becomes desperate for an even tighter hold, urging your body to submit to him and drown in bliss. As his dick pumps into your sweet, greedy, and dripping hole with zealous thrusts, your combined rhythm becomes lost to the utter delirium of rapture as the fae's raw instincts to rut you senseless take over. The Prince of Darkness doesn't hold anything back— he thrusts up into your body with full and furious strokes, growls turning animalistic, cock pounding with merciless thrusts, and balls slapping against the juncture of your thighs.

You can barely handle the sheer thickness of Malleus' dick inside of you, its girth is massive. It stretches your walls and massages every part of you, the large ridge along his cock's underside scraping against your insides with every relentless slam. The slightest movement sends fireworks shooting through you and drives you insane, the heated passion causing a powerful buildup of pleasure already. Your gasps rise in volume, turning into shrieks as you give him your body entirely. One of his hands trails up from your waist, the rough and calloused fingertips ghost across your collarbone and up the curve of your neck. His head is tossed back from the carnal fucking but those elegant, sharp fingernails linger over your pulse, feeling the way blood beats under your skin and listening for the hitch of breath every time the angle of his cock rubs up against something magical inside of you.

Malleus is constantly shifting his position, driving his huge dick into the different angles with practiced efficiency as he listens intently for where to thrust harder, to where your breathing is quickest, and where he gets the loudest moans. The noise echoes back to him like the raunchiest opera. It leaves you shaking on him as he explores you with his cock, the sheer intensity of his frenzied ministrations threatening to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. Every single slam of his dick draws you to the edge of the pleasure-bound chasm, as waves of satisfaction ripple throughout every fiber of your being.

His large, sturdy hands have never left your form and cling possessively. When he lets go, it's to scrape his claws down the tops of your shoulders before seizing you tightly once more. With his thighs tense, his strong muscles drive up into you at a merciless speed, over and over. A throttled roar is building in the pit of Malleus' chest. At the top of your lungs, you scream out his name. There is no room for your thoughts, only the constant stream of the lust-drenched fog and the instinctive urge to reach your peak. Malleus' talons scratch down your back before grabbing onto the tops of your asscheeks and forcing your lower bodies impossibly closer together. Malleus bites your neck while simultaneously drilling his cock as deep as he can possibly go before pausing there, grinding into you and groaning. Your bodies move together in tandem, a wet dance that staves off your looming orgasms for a few more thrusts and moans.

Through the blinding white ecstasy, you can vaguely hear the haughty prince remarking how perfectly he fits and feels inside you. Between your moans and the slapping sound, his breathy laugh cuts through the room and brushes hot against the crook of your neck, teasing, "Your insides... tighten when I praise you..." Your walls immediately squeeze him on reflex at those words. This discovery of another weakness brings him closer, more ravenous, a little bit more wild with the need to take and claim. His face buries into your skin and his tongue flicks out against your neck, drinking up the salt of your sweat as he nips, bites, and sucks his mark there. Malleus wants to fill your greedy hole with his seed, mark his territory, make it absolutely clear that you are his forever by stuffing you full until his cum trickles from the very corners of you and soaks into the silken sheets of his bed. He pants and growls lewdly, plundering into you like a heathen and abandoning any sense of shame as he fully lets go of all composure. The guttural moans and bestial noises escaping his throat reverberate like music in your ears. They signal that the gorgeous prince is drawing dangerously near his edge. The primal urges you have summoned from him command his every thought and his body reacts instantaneously to all the stimulation you've given him thus far. Your mouth falls open, wanton moans now turning into shameless screaming. You match the intensity with which Malleus throws his entire body into the movements of fucking your hole. Malleus doesn't allow your body a single moment's rest as he thoroughly ruins you—each carnal rut and frenetic pound of his manhood into your core sets fire to your whole being, reducing your soul to ash in the passion's wake. His engorged, reddened tip abuses your g-spot to the point that your walls can't even tighten around him anymore due to being so utterly overwhelmed by his dick.

Malleus' heart jackhammers against his ribs and a sound that can only be described as a primal, draconic cry roars out. Thick, creamy spurts of his warm seed paint your inner walls white as his balls pulse and churn, filling you up so generously. The depth of your love and adoration has finally ripped the fae's last threads of restraint to shreds, unleashing his true self—wild, uncontrollable, feral—and the transcendent bliss leaves him howling your name in a voice more akin to a monster than a beautiful Prince. You throw your head back, feeling every muscle of your inner body clench in delicious contractions as you, too, reach the precipice, gushing all over him. All you can manage is to sink onto his thick, throbbing cock and just quake with the intense force of your orgasmic bliss, your legs spasming around him as you milk his twitching shaft.

Every wave of your orgasm sends him into his next. Your loud wails of pure pleasure are music to his ears. He growls and thrusts against you, eager to ensure you have been completely and utterly defiled with his load. The exhilaration and anticipation that was building all night finally peaks, and the intensity is just right to leave the both of you in an tangled afterglow of sweaty, quivering limbs. All he can see are swirling spots of magical color swimming in front of the blinding black of his blindfold. Every sense becomes a blurry haze. When he finds enough control over his quivering frame, Malleus holds you up and close to him, refusing to slip out from your body, letting you come to rest against his strong, tender embrace and gently stroking your hair as you nestle your forehead in the crook of his neck, nestled so comfortably between his head and shoulder. Malleus begins peppering your face and the exposed parts of your shoulder with butterfly kisses, his ragged breaths tickling your skin.

"My love..." the Prince purrs as you languidly snuggle into him, "You will never know what you've just done to me. I have felt so utterly and undeniably wanted, needed, desired." His strong arms embrace you, so gentle and loving and soft, it makes your heart beat a little bit faster and fills you up with an immense, powerful feeling. "You have made my existence feel absolutely perfect and wonderful, more so than I deserve." His voice grows thick and warm, full of tender affection as he adds, "Please, cherish me forever. I will pledge myself to you for as long as I live."

He pulls the blindfold over his head, his eyelids fluttering open to meet your soft gaze and reveal his magnificent, emerald hues and smoldering, lust-drunk slitted pupils. You fall in love with him all over again, smiling brightly as you are greeted by your beloved Prince's elation at seeing your beautiful face once more. Malleus lifts his palm and tucks a lock of your hair behind the lobe of your ear, leaving his knuckles there for a few extra moments as he enjoys the flush and shimmer on your features, admiring the love of his life with all the admiration in the world.

Malleus' eyes spark with renewed mischief and he chuckles mischievously, the deep, smooth sound rolling with velvet menace. "No mortal has ever had this sort of control over me before. The experience was rather... illicit, and strangely beguiling. A little unexpected, however, when you nearly choked me with my own horns." A single sharp claw tips your chin upwards. "How lucky, indeed, am I to be fortunate enough to have you, the first person I ever held my heart out to, be so wicked to me. You were quite merciless tonight." His lascivious grin twists devilishly, and you find yourself enthralled with a certain mix of terror and rapture, unable to keep a devilish smirk of your own from twitching your own lips.

You had known that taking him away from the world for a brief moment of darkness would make his whole body light up like a star and let him truly lose himself to you, but you never would have predicted how viscerally it would affect him. Even so, it pleases you to have fulfilled your fae Prince's perverse needs. You kiss the tip of his nose and he smiles his sharp smile. "Now that you've revealed such a sinful aspect of yourself to me, you'll be the one beneath my power next time we indulge."

The playful menace in his smile doesn't quite mask the serious note in his voice. Malleus is absolutely determined to reciprocate the things he enjoyed receiving in equal measure. It was almost like his own hidden, dangerous desires had awoken when you dragged him down the path of depravity, and a new wave of perversion courses through him at the thought of transforming you into his own plaything. Your throat goes dry, knowing his strength and his kinky side may finally have been unshackled from its cage, and the fae might devour you without the restraint and kindness of his moralities to hold him back. His handsome features betray nothing of his sadistic plans—all you can see are his glorious, flashing eyes glimmering with mischief, and the dangerous upturn of his mouth. There's no telling how much Malleus Draconia has planned for you, and for a brief moment, you wonder if perhaps you'd created a bit of a monster with tonight's exploration.

Let me know if you all enjoyed this! Some Fun Erica Lore™ is that I have total aphantasia—I can't visualize (images or sounds) at all. So, I think because of that, I tend to be very descriptive with my words, since I can't visualize the scene in my head. Also, because I don't have visual memory, I do not remember memories or daydreams in a visual way, instead, I remember them by the feeling I felt in that moment (or the feeling I would feel if a situation was happening to me). Because I feel things so deeply, I like to convey the power of emotions in my writing. I hope I was able to elicit a strong emotional response from you. As always, thank you for reading. Every day, I continue to be awestruck by the outpouring of love and support I've received from you all. Thank you for welcoming my writing into this lovely community. Until next time, 💚 Erica Malleleothreesome

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader smut #twst smut #twst x reader smut #twst malleus draconia x reader smut #twst malleus draconia smut #twisted wonderland malleus x reader smut #malleus draconia x reader smut #twst malleus draconia #malleus draconia smut #twst malleus #twisted wonderland malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #my writing

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berisikradio · 2 years

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126 Musisi Beri Suguhan Spesial di Synchonize Festival 2022 Oktober Mendatang

Synchronize Fest sudah tak diragukan lagi dengan suguhan penampil para musisi berkualitas. Tahun ini mereka memberikan penampil spesial dan kolaborasi dengan 126 musisi penampil. Perayaan kembalinya festival musik yang tahun ini menggemakan tema “Lokal Lebih Vokal” ini akan dilangsungkan pada 7, 8, 9 Oktober 2022 di Gambir Expo, Kemayoran, Jakarta Utara. Agnez Mo, Ahmad Band, Cokelat, Potret,…

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#Festival Musik #full line up #Synchronize Fest 2022

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davidwilliammusic · 2 years

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Hello, seems like it's been a while! I recently saw an Eckhart Tolle video entitled "Do You Feel Like An Outsider?" and it reminded me of my trip to the Outsider Festival in the north of Scotland back in 2007. I mainly went because Crowded House were playing but the synchronicity of this event didn't escape me. Coming a few months after a major awakening, it felt like a confirmation.

I've always been an outsider but I'd never celebrated it before that point. It was always something to feel awkward and nervous about. I'm not a fan of social media and got roped into it gradually over the years, advised to post only "beautiful" photos, which of course I ignored 😂... I didn't even have a smartphone till 2018... but don't mistake that for not being passionate about being a musician or reaching people with my songs, which I very much am. I only appear anti-social! I just don't like a lot of the nonsense that goes with being a musician in this culture so it's a discovery to find the way that works for me and best connects me with you. I'm in it for the long run ☺️

My lack of skill and inefficiency in using this stuff to market myself is partly deliberate and not just laziness but now I have help so we're getting there ☺️ I'm not really into shoving my work at people, I prefer to spend my time creating, put it out and let the audience find it for themselves. I trust we'll find each other naturally (if the algorithms haven't kept us apart... no, we are beyond their reach as you are reading this!) and it will be more meaningful and rewarding as we do. I have some videos on my Ko-fi page where I talk in more detail about this kind of thing. There is more going on behind the scenes.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 5 months

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I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - i feel like this idea is really cute and just had to be written down:)

word count - 1.4k

in which, when you and harry are putting the christmas presents under the tree on christmas eve, with harry dressed up in a santa costume just for his own novelty, and share a little moment to themselves, unbeknownst to them that there four year old son arlo, was watching the whole time.

00:13am. 25th December, 2023.

On this whimsical Christmas Eve, the air is infused with the scent of pine and anticipation as you and your husband Harry, donned in a jolly Santa suit purely for his own delight, tiptoe around the cozy living room.

The soft glow of twinkling lights casts a warm ambiance, enveloping the space in a serene holiday magic.

Upstairs in the master bed, your precious four-year-old, Arlo, is lost in dreams of sugarplums and toy-filled wonderlands.

As his dreams weave their gentle tapestry, you and Harry share mischievous smiles, conspirators in the clandestine mission to deliver presents beneath the twinkling Christmas tree.

In the quietude of the night, laughter bubbles between you and Harry, a shared joy that needs no reason. Silently, you exchange glances, finding amusement in the simple joy of being together on this enchanting night. The muffled laughter dances in the air, a secret language spoken in the hushed tones of love.

The presents, adorned with festive paper and ribbons, find their places beneath the tree like treasures awaiting discovery. With each shared giggle, you and Harry weave invisible threads of happiness, wrapping the room in the warmth of familial love.

The task at hand becomes a delightful game of stealth and joy. Harry, in his Santa suit, moves with a festive grace, and you follow suit, your hearts synchronized in the shared delight of creating magic for Arlo. Laughter, sweet and spontaneous, becomes the soundtrack to this festive ballet.

Beside the twinkling evergreen, Arlo's offerings for Santa and his reindeer beckon: a plate adorned with mince pies and a bunch of crisp carrot for Rudolph.

Harry, ever the good sport in his Santa attire, merrily takes a bite of the sweet, spiced pie, savoring the festive flavor with genuine delight.

Meanwhile, you opt for the crunchy carrots, enjoying their crisp freshness. The contrast of flavours mirrors the yuletide spirit, blending the sweetness of the mince pies with the earthy simplicity of the carrots.

The pièce de résistance, however, is the offering of milk. Harry, with a theatrical flourish, lifts the glass to his lips, only to be met with a cringe as the chilly liquid meets his tongue. The milk, left out for Santa's refreshment, bears the unmistakable chill of a night spent waiting. The internal wince is evident on Harry's face, though he valiantly soldiers on, determined not to let a bit of cold milk dampen the festive mood.

As you stand in the hushed glow of the Christmas tree, satisfied smiles exchanged with Harry, a sense of completion washes over you. The presents are arranged, the festive treats enjoyed, and the world outside is wrapped in a blanket of silent snow. It feels like the perfect moment to retire to bed, where dreams of sugarplums can join the night's symphony.

But just as you entertain the idea of slipping under the warm covers, Harry, in his Santa suit, wraps his arms around your waist with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. His lips press gentle kisses against your neck, creating a trail of warmth that contrasts the cool air of the room. You can't help but laugh, a delighted sound that dances in the quietude.

"M’not quite ready f’bed yet," he murmurs against your neck, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "If I go now, I'll just get kicked in the back by ‘Lo, and I'll end up with no quilt."

The unexpected declaration sends a ripple of laughter through you, and you playfully turn around in his embrace. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you meet his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" you tease, your lips curving into a smile.

In the gentle dance of shared laughter and lingering gazes, you both revel in the magic of the moment. The Christmas lights cast a soft glow on Harry's face, accentuating the warmth in his eyes. His lips meet yours in a brief but tender kiss, a sweet punctuation to the unspoken joy that fills the room.

"M’suppose bedtime can wait a bit longer," he concedes, his arms tightening around you. "After all, who could resist the allure f’a quiet, magical Christmas night?"

In the gentle glow, Harry's eyes meet yours with a magnetic pull, and the world outside seems to vanish. His arms envelop you, creating an intimate cocoon that shields you from the outside world. The soft strains of holiday tunes linger, providing a subtle backdrop to the unspoken language of desire that fills the room.

The air is thick with a sweet tension as Harry's lips find yours in a series of passionate kisses, each one deepening the connection between you. Both of you smiling into each others mouths, your hands find the peach fuzz at the back of head neck, whilst his find habitat on the groove of your bum.

The room transforms into a haven of shared intimacy, where the only language spoken is that of desire, and every touch is a brushstroke in the masterpiece of this moment.

The heat of the moment intensifies as you lose yourselves in the magnetic pull of each other. The world outside continues its hushed existence, oblivious to the crescendo of emotions echoing within the room.

The bed, usually shared with the comforting presence of his parents, felt empty, and a sense of curiosity tugged at his tiny heart. Arlo, with his baby blanket in tow, embarked on a solo journey down the hallway.

The plush carpet beneath his little feet muffled his steps as he approached the top of the stairs. The house was still cloaked in the tranquillity of the evening, and Arlo, with wide eyes and tousled hair, peered down into the living room below.

A strange sound caught his attention, and he instinctively clutched his blanket a bit tighter.

At the bottom of the stairs, a tableau unfolded. His mother, adorned in her pajamas, was locked in an embrace with Santa Claus—or so it seemed. Arlo's innocent gaze widened, his imagination dancing with the possibility that Santa himself had arrived early to share a moment with his mom.

The festive glow of the Christmas tree provided an ethereal backdrop to the unexpected scene.

Unaware that the figure beneath the Santa suit was, in fact, his dad, Harry, Arlo continued to observe with a mixture of awe and confusion.

08:21am. 25th December, 2023.

The Christmas morning sun spilled into the kitchen, casting a golden hue on the day's festivities. As you walked in with Arlo nestled on your hip, the air buzzed with the promise of holiday magic.

However, a quiet tension lingered as Arlo, unusually reserved, gazed around the room with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

Harry, donned in a festive apron, stood at the stove, the sizzle of eggs providing a comforting backdrop to the scene. Arlo's silence persisted, his little mind undoubtedly preoccupied with the mysterious encounter from the previous night.

As you settled into the kitchen routine, the atmosphere held a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. Arlo's wide eyes shifted between you and Harry, his silence becoming a palpable presence in the room.

The bewilderment in his gaze hinted at the lingering confusion from witnessing the unexpected kiss with Santa Claus.

With each passing moment, the unspoken question hung in the air. Harry, flipping eggs with a practised ease, stole a glance at Arlo, sensing the inner turmoil of his young son. The parental instinct to reassure tugged at your heart as you navigated the morning, your steps mindful of the unspoken query hanging in the air.

After the hearty Christmas breakfast, Arlo, still harbouring the mystery from the previous night, toddled over to Harry.

His little arms reached up, a silent request to be lifted. Harry, ever the doting dad, scooped him up onto his hip, planting a cascade of playful kisses on Arlo's cheek. The room echoed with the sounds of affectionate giggles.

As Arlo settled into Harry's arms, he seemed to hesitate for a moment, glancing around to ensure that you were nowhere in sight. Satisfied that the conversation would be just between him and his dad, Arlo took a deep breath, his eyes serious.

"I have something to tell you, Daddy," Arlo announced in a hushed voice, leaning in as if sharing a grand secret.

Harry, playfully intrigued, raised an eyebrow and encouraged him to spill the beans.

With an air of importance, Arlo whispered, "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus."

The words hung in the air, and a mischievous sparkle lit up his eyes. Harry's reaction, however, was unexpected.

A loud, hearty laugh erupted from Harry's chest, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Arlo, momentarily perplexed, couldn't help but join in the infectious laughter. Harry, wiping away an imaginary tear, managed to compose himself and leaned in with mock seriousness.

Harry brought his face closer to his mini-me and brought his voice to a quiet mock whisper.

“Tell m’more.”

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cardansriddle · 10 months

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Your girl (part 2) - (tom riddle x fem!reader)

part 1

warnings: none. the reader is just down bad for tom.

A/N: this part is dedicated to the anon who somehow inspired me to write a part 2. hope you enjoy <3

༻♛༺

The noise and commotion around you blended into a hazy blur as you let the alcohol dull your senses. The Slytherins had thrown yet another gathering in celebration of winning the Quidditch match, and your dorm mates had been relentless in getting you to join the festivities. You found yourself amidst your housemates, clutching a half-empty cup of Firewhisky in your hand.

The last time you were somewhere like this, Tom Riddle had kissed you.

The problem was, he had not talked to you ever since. He would catch your eyes from across whatever room you were in, and a sly smirk would play on his lips, a silent acknowledgement of the effect he had on you. That arrogant, cruel bastard.

But you had your pride. You would not approach him. You wanted—desperately— for him to come to you first.

You glanced over the nameless student's shoulder that was caught in telling a story to you and your mates, your eyes travelled over the dancing figures, their movements synchronized to the pulsating rhythm.

But amidst the sea of faces, one image remained etched in your mind.

A flicker of resentment resurfaced as you spotted him across the room, surrounded by a group of admirers conversing with each other and attempting vainly to impress Riddle with their words. He was barely paying attention, you could tell by the indifferent expression on his face. And yet his magnetic presence drew people like moths to a flame, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. You took another sip of the Firewhisky, hoping it would dull the ache.

A shout jolted you out of your staring and you glanced towards the commotion to see the Seeker being held up in the air by his fellow players. You rolled your eyes, and when you looked back towards Riddle once again, he was already looking at you. His mouth curled into that fucking smirk you had grown resent.

Taking a sip from your drink, you allowed the liquid courage to embolden you and with a newfound fury igniting your being, you broke the eye contact only to push past your friends. It was time to confront the enigma that was Tom Riddle

You attempted to manoeuvre through the crowd, only for someone to bump into you and cause your drink to spill all over your shirt. The person grabbed your arms to steady you. "Sorry, love." The masculine voice slurred, but when you looked up to meet the guy's gaze, his eyes were glued to the wet fabric clinging to your chest uncomfortably. "Let me—"

His words were caught in his throat by the shadow looming over your shoulder, and the guy swallowed a lump in his throat before hurrying away. You would have been confused by his sudden departure, but you had grown to feel and remember the way the atmosphere would still anytime he would be in your proximity.

"You should change before everyone gets an eyeful of you."

You tensed. Your heart screamed in delight, but your hazy mind was glazed with anger. "How charming of you." You snarked, turning to face him.

He stood tall, towering above you with a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. The traitorous organ lurched in your chest at the sight of him, with his chiselled features illuminated by the dim lighting in the room. A strand had escaped his perfectly styled hair, falling on his forehead as a loose curl. You resisted the urge to reach and put it back in its place.

"Excuse me?" He arched a brow.

"What? Is this seriously the first thing you say to me after—" You cut yourself off, unable to utter the words.

"After what?" He taunted.

You shot him a glare. "You know perfectly well what."

He hummed, unbothered, and his predatory gaze roved over your form. "You are annoyingly wilful."

You scoffed and it seemed to set something off in him because the next second he grabbed you and began dragging you away. You made a move to protest, causing him to tighten his grip on your wrist and you cursed at the way his skin on yours made you feel.

Before you knew it, he had dragged you up to an empty dorm, pressing you up against the closed door. "Change." He demanded.

You glared up at him. "Am I supposed to produce a shirt out of thin air?"

His nostrils flared as he tried to suppress his growing anger, before turning around and walking to pull open a drawer. It was only when he pulled a shirt out did you realise that he had dragged you not to just an empty room—but his dorm.

"Are you planning to waste your whole life trying to drown your thoughts with Firewhisky?" He asked, taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

You faltered, eyes dropping from his to avoid his piercing and too-observant stare.

"Your escape won't be found in the bottom of a bottle." He continued.

"How do you know I am not just drinking to have fun?"

You felt him come to a halt in front of you, hand raising to grab your chin and lift it up so you would meet his gaze. "Observation is a skill I possess. That, and last time you told me you were trying to forget." Your breath hitched at the close proximity, lungs stuttering as his breath fanned your mouth. "My only question is, what are you trying to forget?" When you did not give a reply, he cocked his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Hm?"

You tried to look away, but his grip tightened. "Eyes on me."

You knew you would not be leaving this situation without giving him a satisfactory answer, so throwing all caution to the wind, you decided to answer him. "You."

Something told you he already knew the answer before you had even told him. "Why would you want to banish me from your thoughts?"

"You are toying with me. Stop it."

He arched a brow, amused. "We both know you like it. Don't you?"

Your heart lurched uncomfortably because it was true. You did not mind him playing you— as long as he gave his attention to you, you would let him do anything. It was pathetic, yes, but the heart wanted what it wanted, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were irrevocably infatuated with him. Your whole body and soul were his. He only had to claim it.

"I do."

The corner of his lip curled slightly into a pleased smirk. "Good girl. See, that was not hard to admit."

"Tom—" you began, but he shushed you with a finger on your lips.

"And what is it that you desire the most?" He asked, but once again, you could tell by the sinister glint in his eyes that he knew the answer. He just wanted you to admit it out loud. To him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing there was no going back from this pivotal moment. "To be your girl." Your whispered admittance hung in the tense air between you for a moment, and then his lips were on yours.

There was hunger in the way he kissed you, a hunger that matched your own. His hand found its way to your waist, gripping you firmly, pulling you closer. The pressure of his touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you.

You attempted to tangle your hands in his hair, but in a sudden move, he had your wrists pressed above your head to the door behind you, making it impossible to move.

He broke the kiss, and his lips began to explore the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of lingering warmth as he bit and sucked harshly on the skin. When he finally pulled away, you could see the twisted satisfaction on his expression as he gazed down at the bruise he had left behind on your skin.

"You want to be mine? To use and please as I see fit?" He rasped. "Make no mistake— once you say yes, there will be no going back." There was a dangerous undertone to his words, but you did not care. It was all you had ever wanted, ever desired, and you knew you could never refuse him.

"Yes. I'm all yours."

༻♛༺

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#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x you #tom riddle angst #tom riddle fluff

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chilmyxy · 1 year

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Synchronize Festival 2022

Synchronize Festival 2022 is a music festival that held on 7, 8 and 9 October 2022 at Gambir Expo, North Jakarta, Indonesia.

There were performances from 3 divas, souljah, keroncong music, dangdut, and type X.

At this event, Dompet Dhuafa was also present with the concept of a quiet room where to provide education regarding those who are deaf and hard of hearing.

#dompetdhuafa #indonesia #synchronize festival

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bangaveragewhitewine · 5 months

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maybe it ain't so bad

Bouncer!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader (established relationship) - Part of Happy Hours

Your boyfriend doesn’t like Christmas much. Inside his huge soft heart, he carries the memories of Christmases good and bad. After this year, the first Christmas you will actually get to spend together, he might feel a little warmer towards the Holidays…

Word Count 4.4k

Contents / Warnings | 18+ | Eddie & Reader are in their mid/late twenties | Loss of a parent, mention of child neglect and abuse | No explicit sex, nonetheless this is an 18+ fic - making out on the sofa, brief choking mention, Eddie’s love of hickies, being horny and in love, mentions of sex and post-sex softness, ‘slut’ as a term of endearment | No physical descriptions of reader; the image used in the header is not indicative of Bartender Reader in this series

Note I missed our metalhead bouncer boyfriend. I tried and tried not to make this sad or angsty. A quick moment to say thank you for all the love over the last sixish months while I have been writing and sharing my work. It’s a joy, truly! Have a cosy holiday season, sweet angels!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Christmas, 1992

Eddie Munson didn’t care for Christmas.

A long time had passed since the last Christmas with his Mom, but each year the scabbed-over wound inside him tore and stung and bled just a little more around the Holidays.

It might be more accurate to say then that Eddie Munson did not let himself care for Christmas. It hurt him to care about it, to remember the good ones and the bad ones with his mother, so he tried to just not care.

When he closed his eyes, he could still see the coloured string lights wound around the shitty plastic tree, glinting against baubles that had seen better days. He could feel her hands holding his much smaller ones as they danced together to Christmas records, the way she held him safe and steady to place the star on top of the tree. The shininess of it all had pulled his attention from her pilled and threadbare sweaters and the bruise-like bags beneath her eyes. The festive earworms drowned out her tearful phone calls to her parents for some extra cash to make sure Eddie would have a present from Santa beneath the tree this year, and her promises that her no-good-husband would see a penny of it.

As he watches you hanging shiny-and-new decorations on the branches of the small fir in the corner of your shared living room, humming to music only you could hear, he could not help but think of her. It hurt, but the smile that spread across your face when you caught him watching soothed his soul just a little bit.

“Hi, handsome.”

Your voice and that cosy greeting, the eye-sparkling smile you wear when he comes home to you, feels like stepping into a warm bath every single time. It’s a hug before you even open your arms to him.

You watch him unwind his scarf and shake out his frosted curls once his jacket has been hung on its peg. His boots are slipped off and left to pick up later.

“How’d it go?”

Eddie stares at the shiny ornament hanging between your fingers on gold thread, lost somewhere in his head or hypnotised by the way it caught the light until you call his name again.

“Sorry, yeah. Went good. You’ve been busy…”

While Eddie was teaching his last guitar lesson before the Holidays, you had draped the tree with shiny bright lights and made a start on the baubles, hanging them extra-slowly in the hope that your boyfriend might want to help when he got home. Neither of you had work tonight, scheduled off synchronously as a little reward for working Christmas Eve.

“You wanna help?” you ask, a glimmer of hope in your eyes, even as you readied yourself for rejection.

You knew his feelings about Christmas - not just his capitalist hellscape rant that came out whenever someone asked if he was looking forward to the holidays, but you knew the deep emotional pain he carried as another year passed without her. Every year the taste of her cinnamon-spiced sugar cookies and the scent of her perfume, that special Mom Smell, faded more in his memories.

For the first Christmas you would actually spend together as a couple, you wanted it to be special and cosy. You wanted Eddie to feel comfortable and safe, not like a prisoner bound in tinsel as you forced him to watch Miracle on 34th Street or How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (though he did have a soft spot for the green guy). A lazy few days cocooned in your apartment, a nice no-fuss dinner and quality time together. It helped too that you could pick up the Christmas Eve shift in the bar instead of travelling out of the state to sit at home with your families and miss each other, count the days until you hopped back on the plane to O’Hare, and pray that Eddie would drive safe on the icy roads around Hawkins.

The decorations had been a compromise; Eddie never usually bothered and you liked to spend at least half a day making your home look like a festive explosion. A deal had been made on a small tree with a few lights.

You looked at that tree now, its small and slightly wonky stature had charmed you. Eddie’s staring at it too and you can see a glimpse of the broken boy Eddie once was; it makes your heart hurt.

“Is it too much? I can stop…” Your voice is quiet.

Eddie shakes his head and plasters on a smile for you that makes your chest ache, before rounding the sofa on socked feet to press a kiss to your head and squeeze you around the middle.

His nose is cold from being outside. That fresh scent of bright winter air clings to him and slowly melts away inside the warm flat you share.

“Looks great.” Eddie picks up a random red bauble. “Where does this one go?”

“Wherever you want it to go. Just look for the bare spots.”

You tamp down any fizzing excitement that he’s taking an interest, then feel guilty that you are thinking of him like he’s a wild animal who is easily spooked.

Eddie brings you back to reality, just like always.

“You gonna move it later when I’m not looking?” he asks, brows raising beneath his bangs as you loop your ornament on a branch.

That ‘I know you too well for your cute lies, babe’ look he gave you made your cheeks feel warm. It was close to his ‘you’re pushin’ it and you’re being a brat on purpose’ look. That one was fun.

“Only if it’s too close to another red.”

He had seen you and Michelle in full-festive-flight when you decorated the bar every year; every year he braved the cold of the beer cellar or the back alley to stay well out of your way lest he be roped into a squabble on the placement of some stupid garland.

Not fully convinced, Eddie zeroes in a bare spot (not too near to another red ball) and slips it over the branch with less practiced precision. It’s perfect.

You lean over to smack a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek. “You’re a natural, Teddy.”

His arm slips and winds around your waist, squeezing the squish of your hips before he presses his lips to your head. “Do I get a reward?”

Eddie’s touch and the low timbre of his voice stoke the cosy glow in your body into something more fiery and exciting. His fingers skate along the waistband of your sweatpants, tracing up beneath your (his) hoodie. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

Two can play that game.

“For one little bauble? I’m not that easy, Munson.”

It pains you to pull yourself away but the warmth and hunger in his gaze feeds your ego and the flame in your gut.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I need you to show me.” His fingers reach out to grab the empty space between you.

Your eyes roll as you crouch to pick up two more baubles.

“Gimme a kiss for every decoration I put on then?” Eddie suggested, “I’ll keep tally.”

A slow smile makes its way onto your face and you nod. “That could be arranged. Don’t half-ass it though, they’ll fall off if they’re not on properly.” Your eyes narrow in warning, “I’ll bite you instead of kiss you if you half-ass it.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, honey,” Eddie smirks and takes both baubles from you - one gold, one pink - and hangs them on his fingers, strategically dangling them right over his nipples. He gets the exact reaction he was hoping for - an eye-roll and that smile you do when you try not to laugh at his silliness. That smile that had made him fall for you.

“And you know my motto - full ass or no ass at all. No half-assin’ around here.”

Before you can make a smart comment about his flat ass, Eddie takes his time to thoughtfully hang the ornaments in two bare spots and surveys his work with a quietly-pleased hum. You could imagine what he was like as a kid, bargaining for an extra cookie once the tree was decorated, or an extra bedtime story. You didn’t hang any more decorations in favour of watching him work for a few moments, the colourful glow of the lights on his pale skin.

He catches you staring and softens, winks at you as he picks two more baubles up. One for you, one for him.

After passing the gold string between your fingers, you press a bonus-kiss to Eddie’s lips before finishing off your first tree together. Neither of you acknowledges with words how special it is, but it’s there. You squabble playfully when you get in each other’s way or when Eddie slaps your ass while he’s reaching for the snowman ornament you have had since you were a kid.

You had accumulated a little collection of retro Christmas decorations in thrift shops over the years - pretty vintage baubles and kitschy ornaments, a few random or weird tchotchkes. A purchase from last year - a glittery skull wearing a Santa hat - earned instant approval from Eddie and pride of place on the tree. That one had caught your eye a few months after you two had started dating.

When the box of ornaments runs out, you take a step back and pull Eddie’s arm to join you.

“You like it?” Your voice is quiet and careful as your cheek rests against the softness his sweater.

“Pretty,” Eddie says, just as quiet. His arms wind around you and hold you against his chest, starting a slow rock from foot to foot.

“Can I give you something?” you ask, voice muffled against his chest.

Eddie’s brows shoot up, a flirty look in his eyes. “Oh? You can give me whatever you want, babydoll.”

That wolfish grin of his still made you feel tingly all over, even as you rolled your eyes at him.

“It’s for the tree. Cool it, Romeo.”

You pay this kiss-tax to be freed from the cosiness of his arms and slip into the bedroom for just a second. It is enough time for Eddie to edit a few baubles like it’s second nature to him, swapping out colours that are too close to each other and filling gaps until you arrive with a box. He has forgotten that he used to watch his mother do the same thing while he was content with his oven-warm cookies and cold milk on the couch.

You pass the box to Eddie. “It’s not really a gift. It’s for both of us.”

“Is it lingerie?” His brows raise, hopefully suggestive, as he smooths a finger over the lovingly slapped-on bow. Lingerie has certainly proven itself to be quite the mutual gift over the last year. His mind wanders to that last deep purple set you bought, and he can feel himself starting to drool.

“Eddie, just open it. You’re going to be so disappointed, it’s lame…”

At the talk of lingerie, you are acutely aware that you are currently dressed in sweats and one of his hoodies. In a funny sort of way, you know that the cosy combo does it for Eddie as much as lace and satin. The every-horny-for-your-boyfriend part of your brain considers wrapping yourself up in a big red bow for him. He would like that far too much.

He feigns coolness as he pulls the lid off and you push your unhinged thoughts away.

Inside, wrapped in crinkly red tissue paper, are two things - a matte black bauble with your initials curling together in shiny red calligraphy. Beside it, a small silver frame ornament with a candid snap of Eddie and you from Thanksgiving just passed, the one you spent in Hawkins with Wayne and his girlfriend. You’re perched on his lap, arms looped around his neck, smiling and very clearly obsessed with each other.

“I just thought we could... We could start our own traditions. Little things.” You speak into the quietness of the room as Eddie stares into the box. You murmur to yourself when he doesn’t answer, “You didn’t even want a tree, it’s so stupid.”

“Stop that.” Eddie’s frown is serious. “My girlfriend isn’t stupid. How dare you.”

“But you don’t even like Christmas… It’s kinda stu-”

“Don’t. It’s fuckin’ thoughtful as fuck.” Eddie smiles softly at the ornaments, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. “You’re too cute, baby.”

Pressing a smiling kiss to your lips, Eddie could feel himself beginning to soften. Maybe this Christmas thing would not be so bad this year…

Christmas with Wayne was always low-key - some years his Uncle took a shift at the plant and they exchanged thoughtfully practical presents like new guitar strings or picks, a book or an album, novelty mugs and new baseball caps or shirts.

Wayne was not so fond of Christmas either. It reminded him of his heavy-handed drunk of a father, and the anxiety-inducing unanswered phone calls to his idiot brother’s house after Elizabeth died. It reminded him of finding his nephew alone in a cold house on Christmas Day, without a tree or dinner when Al forgot to come home. The kid didn’t have a single present to open from Santa.

When Eddie moved to the trailer with him, too wise to the big bad world to be so easily distracted by shiny things, Wayne made sure there was a present for Eddie every single year, a meal and some company - even if the kid didn’t want it, even if Eddie screamed and threw a fit until he sobbed himself silent because he was just a little boy who missed his Mama…

Now, in the cocoon of your home together, Eddie's smile brims with child-like innocence, touched by the weight of wanting to start your own traditions together. You knew you were it for each other, but the little reminder of how much you meant it makes him glow.

He puts the box down and cups your face, pressing kisses everywhere he can reach. “God, I’m so in love with you,” he growls like a happy demon, making you laugh.

Contently trapped against his body, soft and lean in all the right places, you release the breath you had been holding as Eddie studies the contents of the gift box again.

“Look at these! I need this picture for my wallet. I need like, six copies,” he murmurs, “Have you ever seen a hotter couple?” Eddie brushes his thumb over the velvety loop of ribbon to hang it on the tree. “We need this for our grandkids, baby.”

“Laurel took it. I’ll get you another copy.” Your face hurts from smiling as he kisses your cheek again. Wayne’s girlfriend was fond of you both, particularly Eddie.

“And this? Fuckin’ gothic as hell, I love it.” He strokes the intertwined initials before putting the box down to hug you just a shade off too tight. Nuzzling your noses together, he asks, “Where are we going to hang ‘em?”

“Front and centre?” you suggested, shrugging a little. “We could move that one…”

“Creepy Santa?”

“Banish him to the back of the tree. Begone, creep.”

Eddie chokes a laugh and muttered, “I love when you say nerdy shit, baby,” before unwinding his arms from around you to banish Creepy Santa.

“My boyfriend is a huge nerd, I can’t help it,” you tease.

After some careful re-arranging, the two new additions take pride of place on your tree. Eddie’s tongue had stuck out in concentration as he balanced them both so carefully; you wished you had your camera to capture the moment, not that you would ever forget it.

You are wrapped up in his arms again once you agree on the placement, nose to nose as Eddie tells you how much he loves you again. The little noise he makes when you slip your hands into his back pockets hits low in your gut.

“You saving those kisses you earned or cashing them in, hot stuff?” you ask, tracing his jaw with the tip of your nose.

Eddie’s teeth flash in the low light; the room is shadowy and warm in the glow of string lights and a dim lamp in the corner.

“Oh, I’m saving them up, princess. Might claim one or two right now, but the rest are staying with me. Got a pocketful of IOUs for kisses.”

You press your face against his shoulder, smiling. “That’s so ominous, Teddy.”

“Next time you’re mad at me? Kiss token. When you’re too busy with stupid chores to take my human right to be kissed seriously? Pucker the fuck up, pretty girl.”

You love him all ways, but especially like this; playful and fun, flirting hard with you. Eddie’s using his voice in a way you know comes from years of playing DnD, and a stint in the drama club at school. He’s in-your-face-flirty, never subtle. This is the man who punched someone for you before you were even dating; there’s nothing subtle about Eddie Munson.

No, there’s absolutely nothing subtle about Eddie as his hips press forward against yours and he directs your mouth to his, cashing in the first of those kisses. He smiles when you chase him for more. You pull him closer, your hands on that flat ass of his, and sigh when his tongue licks across your bottom lip.

“That’s one,” he whispers.

He cups your warm cheek, his pinky stroking your pulse point. He can feel your blood pump quicker when his breath breezes over your mouth, like the hard beating of butterfly wings that he feels too. Eddie likes how they have not gone away yet for either of you; over a year together and no sign of migration. He hopes they never leave.

“M’not counting. Just kiss me,” you whisper, a little whiney and needier than you had realised now that you are pressed up against him with nowhere else to be.

Never one to leave you hanging (unless that was part of the game you were playing), Eddie kisses you like a man starved. He craves that gasping whimper only he can pull from your throat, the flutter of your lashes when your tongues slide together.

You shiver when his chilly fingers slip up beneath your sweatshirt, palm flat to the small of your back - the part he likes to see arched when he takes you from behind.

Your lips buzz where they press against Eddie’s; the electricity passing between you makes you glow like Christmas lights.

Eddie can tell your brain is still working too hard and brings his hand to your throat; not squeezing but his touch just enough to bring you back to him. It makes you keen for him. A reminder of something you both want to try, but not before you work up to it and do a little more research.

“Okay?” he checks, kissing the corner of your mouth. He watches your eyes go dark, swallowed up by your pupils in the dim light.

“Mhm,” you murmur, tilting your chin just enough to graze your lips against Eddie’s.

He blesses you with an all-too-brief kiss, knowing you need and want more. He backs up a few steps, taking you with him to sit on the couch. Sitting there, thighs spread and waiting, the way he looks up at you makes you clench. You take your place in his lap and spend a moment slowing it all down again, forehead to forehead with Eddie’s hands stroking your hips.

“I love you,” he whispers, the words tickling your lips.

“I know. Love you,” you murmur back, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. You thumb the tired crescent beneath it, skating along his smiling cheek.

When he looks at you, it makes your heart beat double time; it’s not just the lust darkening his eyes, but pure adoration.

You cross your arms to wriggle out of the hoodie, stripped down to a cotton cami and a bra that had been relegated to comfy-wear-only. Eddie thinks you are a goddess, and he is completely and utterly down-bad for you. The glow of the Christmas tree behind you makes you look like some sort of angel.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs. His hands run up your sides and down again, pulling you in closer onto his lap. You can feel him beneath the layers of sweatpants and denim.

You lean into him again for another kiss, melting against Eddie’s warm chest when his hands begin to wander. He kisses you, his tongue twisted with yours as he takes his time. There is no rush this evening, no need to get off quick before your shift.

Without the deadline, you draw it out - kissing slow, hands wandering to squeeze and tease, hips rolling and grinding together hot and hard beneath the layers. You give extra attention to that spot on Eddie’s neck that makes him go cross-eyed, dragging your teeth over the little bruise he can hide beneath his hair (but he won’t because he’s a menace and a bit of a slut).

You pull off his black sweater - the one that hugs his arms and makes his waist look biteable - and kiss along the neckline of his tank top. Your fingers push at it and his silver chain when they get in the way of another bruise-making kiss that makes Eddie swear under his breath.

“Baby, fuck.”

He grunts quietly when you push your hips together again, attempting to relieve some of the building ache between your thighs.

“Mm, that’s the plan,” you whisper, smiling against his collarbone when he chokes on his own throaty laugh.

When you look up at him there is a dusty pink flush across his cheeks. You watch his jaw drop just a fraction when your breath casts over the damp kisses you left on his neck. When your thumb catches purposefully on his nipple there’s a quiet ‘fuck’ that tumbles from his tongue.

As his ability to be patient wanes, Eddie catches your lips again and slowly guides you to lie back against the sofa cushions.

“You drive my crazy,” he whispers, brushing back the hair that had fallen around your face. He kisses you again, a whisper of teeth against your lip before your tongues meet in a filthy kiss.

You make space for him between your legs, lying chest to chest as close as possible without opening up your chest and letting him crawl inside, without physically melting together to become one. You lose yourself in each other, bathed in the warm light of the tree.

“You didn’t do a star. Or an angel, angel. Do you have one?” Eddie’s jeans and belt are undone around his hips as he sits with your feet in his lap, pulled back on to smoke out the window.

“I got distracted before I could put it up.” You wiggle your toes against his thigh, yelping when he runs his fingertips over the sole. You shove it beneath his leg, safe and warm away from his tickling fingers. “I have one. It’s in that bag.”

Back in your (Eddie’s) hoodie and your underwear, you point him toward the busted-around-the-edges gift bag left forgotten by the stereo. “You wanna put it up?”

Eddie smells warm and smokey when he leans in for a kiss, a tinge of sweat lingering after making love to you. He still has his warm pink-cheeked glow and proudly wears the bruises from your sweet mouth, the red marks left by your fingernails on his back.

Three pecks later, he stands with a groan more befitting a man of his uncle’s age and picks up the bag. You watch him stare at the contents, an unreadable look on his face as he lifts it out.

Your star is kitschy as hell, gold with little tinsel pom-poms on the pointy edges and definitely older than both of you. It’s not to everyone’s taste, a little tacky perhaps, but that was part of its charm. When it caught your magpie-eye in a junk shop a few weeks ago you couldn’t leave it behind. The had-seen-better-days tree-topper that had cost one whole dollar and seventy-five cents. It had glittered at you from the shelf and whispered ‘take me with you’.

“If you hate it, we don’t have to put it up. We could put Creepy Santa up there instead,” you mused, “Our creepy angel…”

“I don’t hate it. It’s so… wrong in the best way.” Eddie turns the star-shape in his hands. It reminds him of the chintzy and bright Christmas trees and flashy lights in Forest Hills. “Where the hell did you even get this thing?”

“In the little thrift store near the camera shop. The one where you got me those earrings…?”

“Mm, I know it. Maybe we can un-banish the Creep too. I guess it’s Christmas after all…” he reaches for the previously hidden Santa Claus figure with shifty eyes and rosy cheeks and replaces him near the top of the tree. “Yeesh, you’re a weird little man.” He flicks Santa before lifting the star up. “You wanna do the honours?”

From your cosy place on the couch, still pleasantly jelly-legged and tingly all over, you shake your head. “You do it. I’m comfy.”

Eddie shrugs and reaches to balance the topper on the highest point of your perfectly wonky little tree, standing back with his hands on his hips before looking to you for approval.

You give Eddie two thumbs up before opening your arms for him. You barely brace for impact when he pounces on you, head thrown back laughing. “Ed!” You squeak when he presses growling kisses to your neck.

Resting on your chest, Eddie looks up at you with those shiny baby-cow eyes you adore. He is so soft beneath it all. He makes your heart beat double time. You brush back his hair and kiss his forehead as he gets comfortable. You wrap your legs around him so he cannot go anywhere, even if he wanted to.

“Can we make this part of our tradition too?” he asks.

“Mm, I like how you think, pretty boy.”

Your fingers comb through his curls as he rests his weight on you. There is nowhere you would rather be.

Eddie cannot keep himself from staring at the tree in the quiet bliss of it all. He soaks it in; the thud of your heart beneath his ear, the way the tree-lights blur his eyes when he stares at them for too long.

A small slow smile spreads onto his face. He decides then that maybe, just maybe, Christmas might not be so bad this year.

An easter egg for the babes who made it to the end - here's the picture from the header image (I love making photos like this for fics tbh). I like to think this is one of the pictures Eddie's Mom sent to Wayne and he still has it 🥲🥲🥲

Thank you for reading ❤️ reblogs, likes and comments are cherished and adored!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x f!reader #bouncer eddie munson #bouncer!eddie munson x bartender!reader #happy hours #bangaveragefics

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perfectsunlight · 9 months

Text

(𝟕𝟎) - 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: none

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

5 YEARS LATER

the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the shore echoed in your ears as you walked through the sand, the cool breeze ruffling your hair and sending a shiver of delight down your spine. jimin's hand was in yours, her fingers interlocked with yours, and the sensation of her touch was both comforting and electrifying. the two of you strolled along the shoreline, the wet sand beneath your feet leaving a trail of footprints as you ventured further into the embrace of the tranquil beach.

the sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow that painted everything in ethereal shades. the world around you seemed to be in a state of suspended beauty, each moment existing in perfect harmony with the next. the rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves provided a soothing soundtrack, a melody that synchronized with the steady rhythm of your heartbeats.

as you walked, memories of your past flooded your mind. this beach held a special place in your heart, as it was the same location where you and your lover had attended the lantern festival years ago. the magic of that night was the catalyst to the journey of your renewed relationship.

you glanced at jimin, her profile illuminated by the daylight. her smile was a radiant reflection of the happiness you both felt, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you had undertaken together. the years had been kind, bringing success and fulfillment to both of your groups. aespa and le sserafim had become pillars of the industry, leaving their mark on the fourth generation of idols and opening the door for the fifth generation.

your thoughts wandered to the present moment, your upcoming contract renewal looming on the horizon. aespa had recently made the decision to renew their contract for another four years, a choice that signified their commitment to their journey as a group. the music industry was evolving, and the decision was a reflection of the changing landscape and the group's aspirations for the future.

with a squeeze of jimin's hand, you found comfort in her presence. the path ahead was filled with uncertainty, but the bond you shared gave you strength and reassurance. the future was a canvas waiting to be painted, a story waiting to be written, and you were determined to face it together.

"did you miss this place?" jimin's voice broke the silence, her tone a mixture of nostalgia and fondness. "i know i did."

you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "i did. i think i’ll always miss it here.”

jimin's eyes met yours, and in that moment, it was as if time stood still. the love and understanding that passed between you was palpable, a testament to the journey you had shared, the challenges you had overcome, and the dreams you had pursued.

as you continued your leisurely walk along the shoreline, the sun's warm embrace cast a golden halo around you both, painting the world in hues of amber and rose. the gentle lapping of the waves against the sand provided a soothing rhythm, a backdrop to the symphony of emotions that swirled between you. every step you took felt like a dance, a choreography of heartbeats and whispered promises.

jimin's gaze held a certain intensity, a fire that burned with a passion you had grown to cherish. the way she looked at you spoke volumes, a language of love that transcended words. her fingers tightened around yours, and you could feel the energy that pulsed through her, a magnetic force drawing you closer.

as the two of you came to a stop, the sun's golden rays seemed to converge around you, casting a spotlight on the moment that was about to unfold. the world around you seemed to just melt into the both of you as you bathed in the light of dusk.

you walked a little closer to the water, not letting go of jimin’s hand as she stood behind you a few steps. the water rushed up to your ankles, a soothing sensation paired with the sand between your toes. behind you, you heard the raven haired girl taking a deep breath.

her voice, when it came, was a gentle caress intertwined with the ambience of the nature around you two. "you know," she began, and you could hear the smile on her lips, "this place holds a lot of memories for us."

a soft smile played on your lips as you nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of anticipation and wonder. "it really does. we should bring our members here sometime. they’d love it.”

every year, on the date of your anniversary, you and your girlfriend made the trip down to busan. it was a little tradition you did, and each time you were here together, you made even more memories.

jimin's thumb caressed the top of your hand, her touch sending a cascade of warmth through your being. her gaze remained on you. you couldn’t see it, but the idol swore you shone brighter than the sun on the horizon.

your eyes were glued to the scenery in front of you. the evening tide created a symphony of sounds as the waves continued to meet the shore. mentally you took a photo of the view. a few seagulls flew overhead and the salt air reminded you that you were present in this moment.

something in the sand caught your eye as you leaned down to pick up a seashell you found underneath your foot. it was small and teal, holding intricate swirls and lines. “hey look at this…”

the rest of the words died in your throat as you turned around and saw your girlfriend on one knee.

with one hand still holding yours, jimin rested the other on the top of her knee. the waves still met skin, and jimin didn’t care that her jeans were getting wet right now. all she cared about was you.

all she would ever care about would be you.

“this place does hold a lot of memories for us,” the dark haired girl repeated slowly, grazing her thumb across the top of your hand once more. “but i want to make one more.”

jimin's voice was a soft melody that seemed to weave itself into the very fabric of the evening, her words carrying a weight that transcended time and space. her eyes bore into yours, a profound intensity that held your gaze captive, the world around you fading into insignificance as you stood on the precipice of a moment that would forever shape your destiny.

"i've only seen daylight since the moment i met you," she confessed, her voice steady yet filled with a depth of emotion that resonated within your heart. "i’d been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night. but now i only see daylight."

her words held a gravity that left you breathless, each syllable etching itself into your soul. you felt a lump forming in your throat, emotions swirling like a tempest within you, and the seashell in your hand felt like a precious artifact, a symbol of the memories you had shared and the moments yet to come.

your lover’s midnight gaze remained locked with yours, unwavering and intense. "i once believed love would be black and white," she continued, her voice soft yet resolute. “but it’s golden. you've painted my world with shades of color that i never thought possible.”

a tear escaped your eye, tracing a glistening path down your cheek as her words enveloped you in an embrace of emotions. the sun had descended lower, casting an ethereal glow around you, as if nature itself was bearing witness to this profound declaration of love.

"i don't want to look at anything else now that i saw you," jimin's voice held a mixture of vulnerability and determination, a plea that echoed through the very depths of your soul. "you are my sun, my muse, and my anchor. everything i do is for you.”

she took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving yours, her hand still resting on her knee, the waves continuing their tender caress against her skin. “and i want it to always be that way. i want everything about me, to always be about you.”

the world seemed to hold its breath, every element of nature converging to amplify this moment.

"you know," her voice trembled slightly, a testament to the intensity of her emotions, "i bought you this on the day you left all those years ago. we’ve come a long way since then, but there’s one thing that i know hasn’t changed.”

time seemed to stand still, the universe holding its collective breath as the weight of her question hung in the air. your heart thudded loudly in your chest, the seashell in your hand becoming a talisman of your fate.

you gazed into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability and devotion that radiated from her, feeling the bond that had grown between you over the years. the tears in your eyes shimmered like stars, reflecting the love that had brought you to this moment.

jimin’s own tears glistened along her waterline as wind blew through her hair. she could feel her pulse in her ears as she slowly opened the velvet box with her free hand. there in all its glory, was the golden band with the single diamond. it was still just as beautiful as it was on the day your lover had first seen it.

the same could be said for you. no, it actually couldn't. because you were even more beautiful with each passing day.

at the sight of the ring, your tears spilled over even more. you felt your heart swell, the sensation almost overwhelming as the gravity of her words settled over you like a warm embrace. the evening sun painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, casting an otherworldly glow around the two of you, as if the very universe was conspiring to create a canvas for your love.

the air was charged with anticipation, each moment stretched to its fullest as you both stood on the precipice of forever. jimin's hand trembled slightly, a mixture of nerves and raw emotion, as she slowly opened the velvet box with her free hand. the ring glistened in the fading sunlight, seeming to capture the very essence of your love.

her tears mirrored your own, shimmering like stars in the twilight sky. the emotions in the air were palpable, a testament to the depth of the connection that had grown between you over the years. time seemed to fold in on itself, every moment you had shared leading you to this culmination, this exquisite declaration of your love and commitment.

"choi y/n," her voice quivered, the final thread that held you both on the edge of destiny, "will you marry me?"

the question hung in the air like a delicate note, a melody that resonated in your heart and soul. and in that suspended moment, you felt the weight of your answer, the gravity of your decision, and the boundless love that had brought you to this juncture.

"yes," you whispered, your voice echoing through the universe, carrying with it a lifetime of dreams and desires. "yes, a thousand times yes."

a radiant smile lit up on the older girl’s face, her eyes glistening with tears of joy as she slipped the ring onto your finger. the sun sank lower, casting a warm, golden glow over the beach, as if nature itself was applauding your union.

and then, as if guided by an invisible force, the two of you moved as one, drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull. in a whirlwind of emotion, laughter, and sheer exhilaration, your lips met in a passionate, tender kiss. the world seemed to dissolve around you, leaving only the sensations of each other's touch, the taste of salt on your lips, and the symphony of the waves as your backdrop.

with a joyous laugh that bubbled up from the depths of your beings, you stumbled backward, your bodies entwined as you fell into the inviting embrace of the ocean. the cool water enveloped you both, completely soaking the both of you.

“i love you.” jimin shouted over the waves crashing over you two. you couldn’t help but laugh even more as she brushed a few wet strands of hair out of your face. the water clung to your clothes, making them heavy but somehow enhancing the weightlessness you both felt in each other's arms. as you laid on top of your now fiancé, you couldn’t help but smile.

and as you smiled, yu jimin could only mirror you. it was always going to be like this. everything about her was always going to be about you.

she wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would you.

this was the beginning of a new chapter of a love story that had been written in the stars and now continued to unfold in the embrace of the sea.

because everything turned out okay in the end. to be honest, jimin had married you in her head back when you were just trainees. if only she could go back and tell her 16 year old self that the two of you made it.

the stars had aligned, the sun and the moon had danced for days, the ocean and the air both caressing each other for hundreds of days straight to witness this moment in time.

as jimin’s lips met yours once again, still laying on top of her on the sand in the water, you couldn’t help but remember what you had told yourself all those years ago on this very same beach.

ironically, it also answered the question you had been asking yourself for years. but either way deep down, you had always known the truth.

you could never forget about yu jimin. and yu jimin could never forget about you.

“i love you, too.”

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝.

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 >:) 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢'𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐟𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝?? 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. :) 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ┊ ☪︎⋆ ⊹ ┊ . ˚ ✧

you and jimin met as trainees before she debuted, and you two never felt more in love. however, once she breaks up with you before her debut, you completely leave SM entertainment under the notion of needing a fresh start. you eventually debuted a few years later in le sserafim, where you met huh yunjin and have slowly started developing feelings for the idol. much to karina's dismay, she hates to see you have moved on, but deep in your own heart, you still can't help but feel as if maybe she has forgotten about you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @captivq , @wonyoluvr , @yunalvrrr , @spritin , @babycubchae , @vnschldd , @sserafimez , @chaersly , @rosiehrs , @baldd , @bwljules , @jenaissantesworld , @jennasluma , @dream-chasers-things , @lcv3lies , @elyds , @archerheejin , @vnschldd , @skisk1 , @cfvgbhndun-new-blog , @silantryoo , @phamminji , @bzeus28 , @writingficsblog , @strangegirlcode , @uzumakioden , @noiacha , @sserabey , @archerheejin , @pindoris , @yourstrulytrissmerigold , @jisooftme , @yacii , @ddrummie , @justalittledissociation

[ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 ]

#smau #kpop #kpop smau #aespa #lesserafim #yunjin x reader #aespa x reader #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin #karina x reader #yu jimin #yu jimin x reader #about you #perfectsunlight

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nomercymaster11 · 6 months

Text

Dancing on the Precipice

A/N: Rated-18

Under the star-studded canvas of the night sky, the Heart Pirates' meticulously crafted island expedition unfolded like a well-choreographed dance. A symphony of whispered plans and shared glances had led them to this moment, where the rhythmic lull of waves against the shore was the backdrop to their triumph. Nestled on the sandy expanse of the seaside, the pirates set up camp, their laughter echoing through the salty air.

As the flames of their campfire flickered, a feast emerged - a bounty of carefully procured food and drinks that mirrored the richness of their success. The taste of victory mingled with the salt on their lips as they toasted to their accomplishments, the clinking of glasses a harmonious melody of shared satisfaction.

The beach became a stage for their jubilation, each Heart Pirate a performer in this celebration of achievement. The air buzzed with a contagious energy, a palpable sense of camaraderie that bound them together like the moon pulls the tide. In this fleeting moment of triumph, the island became not just a backdrop but a witness to their unity, resilience, and the sweet taste of victory against the odds.

During the spirited celebration, Law and you exchanged a subtle glance, an unspoken agreement passing between them. As laughter and revelry surrounded the beachside camp, the two of you seized a moment when the attention of their fellow pirates was diverted by a particularly uproarious toast.

With a careful, synchronized movement, you and Law slipped away from the heart of the festivities. You, moving with the grace of a shadow, expertly navigated through the crowd, your steps blending seamlessly with the rhythm of the waves. Law, ever the tactician, utilized the cover of the night to his advantage, his silhouette merging with the darkness.

Your destination was the Polar Tang, anchored just beyond the reach of the bonfire's glow. The ship stood like a silent sentinel against the backdrop of the moonlit sea. As the both of you approached, your nimble fingers deftly undid the latch, Law and you stepped onto the deck with the quiet grace of dancers in a moonlit ballet.

Once aboard, the both of you moved swiftly and silently, avoiding the creaks and groans that betrayed the presence of intruders. The soft lap of the ocean against the hull masked your footsteps as the both of you disappeared into the heart of the Polar Tang, leaving the vibrant celebration behind without a trace. Like phantoms in the night, Law and you vanished into the shadows, ready to attend to matters that required a quieter kind of celebration.

In the hushed intimacy of the captain’s quarters, a delicate dance unfolded between you and Law. The room, cloaked in the ethereal glow of moonlight, held an air thick with anticipation. Shadows played coyly over the lone window, casting a soft luminescence that framed the clandestine encounter.

Tension crackled in the air; the silence broken only by the rhythmic echo of heartbeats that seemed to reverberate throughout the room. Law's gaze, sharp and predatory like a wolf sizing up its prey, met your fleeting glances in a silent exchange that spoke volumes.

As if guided by an unspoken understanding, the moment you bit your lip, a catalyst for desire, Law closed the distance between you. His hands delicately cradled your face, pulling you into a magnetic embrace that transcended the confines of the dimly lit room. In that charged instant, the atmosphere shifted, and the captain's quarters became a haven for passion, where the intensity of the moonlit shadows mirrored the fervor of the kisses exchanged between you and Law.

Law promptly cleared the end table, creating a space for you to comfortably sit. Placing you there, he resumed the heated kisses that defined the intense connection shared between you two. The fiery passion persisted, leaving an indelible mark on the canvas of the moment with every fervent kiss.

In a clandestine ballet of desire, he deftly employed his knees, coaxing your thighs to gracefully yield to his subtle command. Leaning into the magnetic pull, you surrendered to the intimacy, your hands tenderly finding solace in the tousled strands of his hair. As your bodies drew closer, a tingling anticipation enveloped the air.

The ethereal connection deepened as tongues entwined, sparking an electric current that resonated through every nerve. His hand, a study in gentle exploration, traced an invisible map from the small of your back, leaving a trail of warmth, down to the curve of your thigh. The other hand rested possessively on your hips, a silent declaration of shared vulnerability and desire. In this intricate dance of touch and sensation, each caress became a whispered promise, rendering the moment an exquisite symphony of passion.

In the clandestine embrace of desire, he skillfully unzipped your suit, the fabric sliding teasingly down your left shoulder, unveiling the delicate canvas of your skin. His lips embarked on a sensual journey, nibbling your earlobe, and planting a trail of kisses from your jaw down to the vulnerable curve of your neck.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the passion coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but tilt your head back, surrendering to the profound sensations.

"Law...! I...!"

Your whispered plea hung in the air during the electric intimacy, a testament to the overwhelming emotions that threatened to engulf you.

The world seemed to blur as the heat of the moment intensified. Waves of pleasure cascaded through you, threatening to render you breathless. Yet, Law, attuned to your every nuance, continued his artful exploration, weaving a tapestry of ecstasy that transcended words. In the twilight of desire, you teetered on the brink of surrender, the intoxicating allure of the unknown weaving a spell that left you feeling as if the very ground beneath you might slip away.

In an instant, the playful atmosphere shifted as Law's hand pressed gently against your mouth.

"Shhh...!"

He hushed an urgent plea for silence. A mysterious tension hung in the air, and as you turned to him with a quizzical expression, his gaze locked onto yours with a seriousness that sent a ripple of apprehension through you.

"Why?"

you inquired, the sudden change in Law's demeanor leaving you puzzled.

"Someone's near."

He cautioned in a barely audible whisper. The thrill that had filled the room transformed into a palpable nervousness, the air thick with anticipation and uncertainty.

Caught in this clandestine moment, you closed your eyes briefly, the world outside the quarters seemingly holding its breath. The faint echo of footsteps and snippets of small talk filtered through the walls, a stark reminder of the concealed danger that lurked just beyond the sanctuary of your private space.

In that suspended moment, the quarters became a haven tinged with suspense, the outside world encroaching on the fragile bubble of secrecy you and Law had created.

The air in front of the captain's quarters thickened with uncertainty as the footsteps came to an abrupt halt. A suspenseful pause lingered, shattered by a firm knock that resonated through the metal door.

"Captain? Are you there?"

Bepo's voice carried a note of concern, the innocence of his inquiry belying the potential intrigue within.

Penguin, skeptical, dismissed the possibility, asserting,

"There's no way he is inside."

Shachi, always the pragmatist, speculated,

"Maybe they went somewhere? Those two..."

Bepo, undeterred, insisted, "I know I heard some noise inside," his conviction casting a shadow of doubt on their assumptions. A brief standoff unfolded, the trio caught in a crossfire of speculation and curiosity.

"Nah. Let's go back. I still want to eat more food!"

Penguin's insistence shattered the tension, injecting a touch of humor into the moment. As if released from a spell, the three, with a collective shrug, turned away from the captain's quarters, leaving the enigmatic scene behind. The air of mystery lingered, however, as they retreated, the unanswered questions hanging in the air like a whisper.

As Law withdrew his hand from your mouth, a collective exhale of relief escaped, echoing the tension that had briefly held the room captive.

"That was close," you remarked, the words carrying the weight of the narrowly averted discovery.

Law, his expression a mix of disbelief and contemplation, sought clarity.

"Do you still want to continue?"

he inquired; the air charged with uncertainty. After a thoughtful pause, you made a decision that resonated with caution,

"I think we should stop."

Concerns of prying eyes and potential speculation crept in as you explained,

"Everyone might get too suspicious with us. You know Bepo, he might tell everyone that we're missing."

The pragmatic reasoning hung in the air, a sober acknowledgment of the delicate balance at play.

"Good point," Law conceded, the agreement tinged with a hint of disappointment. In that shared moment of decision, the clandestine rendezvous yielded to the practical realities of their surroundings, the allure of secrecy momentarily eclipsed by the pragmatic considerations that loomed outside the cocoon of their private world.

In the quiet departure from the room, Law pulled you close, a tangible tenderness enveloping the space between you.

"I love you,"

he whispered into the sanctuary of your ear, the words carrying a weight of emotion that lingered in the air. A sweet and reassuring kiss followed; a silent promise exchanged in the delicate language of intimacy.

In response, you reciprocated, the words unnecessary in the face of the shared sentiment that bound you. A surge of happiness welled within, a fervent wish that this moment, suspended in time, would stretch into eternity. As you locked eyes with Law, a delicate veil of tears threatened to spill over, a testament to the depth of emotion that had woven its way into your being.

Sensing your vulnerability, Law gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, a gesture of comfort and understanding. In that final act of affection, the room held the echo of whispered confessions and unspoken promises, a tableau of love and longing etched into the fabric of the departing moment.

Returning to the celebration felt like stepping onto a stage where the spotlight was unexpectedly thrust upon you. Despite the clandestine moments shared in the quietude, you and Law seamlessly merged back into the lively scene, cloaking the recent intimacy in the guise of nonchalance. You strategically took a seat away from Law, a calculated move to dispel any suspicion that might arise from your brief absence.

"Captain! There you are!"

Bepo's exclamation cut through the ambient revelry, his enthusiasm palpable as he handed Law a mug of booze. A forced brightness colored his smile, as though attempting to mask a curiosity lurking beneath the surface. Bepo's gaze darted around the crowd, seeking you out, and upon spotting you, he mirrored the same bright smile. The air crackled with unspoken questions, each smile serving as a veiled acknowledgment of the uncharted territory that had unfolded in the hidden recesses of the captain's quarters.

As the night wore on, the celebration continued in a vibrant crescendo of laughter, music, and clinking glasses. The clandestine interlude in the captain's quarters lingered like a secret melody. You and Law navigated the festivities with practiced ease, a shared glance here, a subtle touch there, preserving the delicate balance between secrecy and revelry.

Bepo's infectious cheer and the camaraderie of the crew painted the night with hues of warmth, temporarily veiling the intricacies woven into the fabric of your shared moment. The Polar Tang sailed through the sea of merriment; its crew blissfully unaware of the subtle shifts beneath the surface.

As dawn approached, casting a golden glow over the horizon, the echoes of the celebration began to fade. The crew dispersed, leaving behind a sea of memories, both shared and concealed. With the rising sun, a new day beckoned, and the events of the night nestled themselves into the tapestry of the Heart Pirates' journey.

On the deck of the Polar Tang, Law caught your gaze one last time, his eyes holding a promise of secrets shared and a future yet to unfold. The ship sailed on, carving through the waves, and as the celebration became a distant echo, the mysteries of the night remained locked within the hearts of those who danced on the precipice between duty and desire.

#one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law smut #bepo one piece #law x reader #law x you #one shot collection #heart pirates #so hot 🔥🔥🔥#trafalgar law reader insert smut

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