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#they make me feel warmer inside
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anantaru · 1 month
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GENSHIN + YOU SAY HE'S TOO SMALL
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— ꒰ including ꒱ — childe, wriothesley, zhongli, alhaitham x fem! reader
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, bratty! reader, dom genshin characters, size kink & size difference, pet names used: dear, love, baby, doll, they're so confident i'm sick, alhaitham is a little mean in this one, cockwarming, rough teasing ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ
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— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱
as marvelous as it sounded to be nice to ajax, indulge yourself beneath his welcoming silhouette and paddle through the outbursts of sparks and bliss, you also loved being a little menace and make him question himself. it starts with a, "you're too small for me," then ends with a "but that's okay!" before putting a ribbon on it, becoming concerned by his drawn out silence before he changes up his demeanor, laughing and smirking sarcastically above you. 
"too small, hm?" childe grunts hotly before carefully inspecting how your eyes grow with fervor as he snaps his hips forward with one numbing snap of hips, his muscles visibly contorting at the movement, "you're so mean to me, baby, always so mean," as he completely stills himself inside.
if he's so small, you don't mind if he's not moving anymore, correct? in fact, the flaring stretch of your cunt shouldn't be that evident on your pungent expression. your skin grows warmer when you realised he doesn't have any plans of fucking you nicely tonight, if anything, the harbinger wanted to make this an important lesson for you.
buried deep, he felt so hot inside of you, burning a mark on your walls and exploring more and more of your skin as every part of your limbs and veins felt like he's set them on fire. every pulse of his erection in you, each grumble and deep, delicious moan sent you into a spiral until you couldn't breathe, not when you felt so full inside.
your hands fly to his hair as you tug him closer, struggling to keep the focus on his darling face with the obvious distraction of his shaft thudding within you, "move.." you bite and gnaw down on your bottom lip, yet he doesn't, much to your displeasure, he only drives himself a bit deeper until he couldn't anymore, roaming through your sensitive walls as a wet heave echoes from your lips.
"didn't you say i'm too small for you?" childe pouts apathetically as you feel a rush of defeat coarse over your spine, "this shouldn't bother you then baby," and he continues, he cannot stop now.
he begins to slowly grind his hips back and forth, yet only in small, little rolls that barely did anything, never pulling himself out.
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— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱
the duke was both pestering and infuriatingly sexy, and there was only one way to humble him by claiming he's not as big as you might've made it sound like in the past. sure, he can make you squirm if he really tries, beyond that? it's fine, nothing out of the ordinary though.
"I don't care that you're too small for me baby, you still have a big heart," you purse your lips together, suppressing an interrupting laughter, although unblinking with a devilish smirk.
"hey, now," wriothesley mumbles in soft tones, and he's gentle, squeezing your hips and tracing over your body as he drops lower to press himself close to you.
the duke rests his forehead against yours and kisses your bottom lip, knowing you love it, it's like a silent way of telling you that he'll be gentle despite his size, well, normally, now it's his method of warning you for what's about to come, "tell me that once i'm done, hm?"
"…with a straight face, stock-still," he felt excitedly elevated, so eager to sooth you and take the edge of brattiness from your voice— until you're bathed in sweat and his cum, desperately moaning out his name with a sound drenched in that of raw hunger.
in a blink of an eye, a ruthless rhythm manifested from wanting to burn that lie from your brain and the usual confidence rising from his body.
he holds your frame captive without a single route of near return, pleasure racing through your skin as he grumbles into your lips, makes your voice rise and hitch as he knocks the air off your lungs with another swift drag of him, his balls crushing against your puffy flesh before letting your walls constrict around his big length.
"shhh, not to worry, you hear? you claimed you can take it, didn't you?" a shudder was born at the ruthlessness in his words, your shoulders tensing and falling in an alleviation of feeling so full. the impact on how he's handling tonight was both totally unsurprising as well as exceedingly sudden at the same time.
you're slowly regretting your past claims, although not really— because you secretly enjoyed whenever wriothesley was rough with you, anytime he was so turned on by your presence that he had to show you in many different ways.
every thread and spark of your cunt constricts up at the close proximity he made you go through— the penetrating waves of his feverishness entrusting into your flesh as you lose yourself completely, needing more, needing him faster and better than each time before.
"you like that, doll? i'm so deep, fuck—" he slurrs his wording, making you shudder, "i love being inside you, i love when you do that… squeezing me," and the more you attempted to hide your precious whimpers from him, the more he made you gasp heftily in return as his hips carried on to rock back and forth your spongy insides.
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— ꒰ ZHONGLI ꒱
believe it or not but in the beginning, it was supposed to be a little throw around inquiry to mess with your boyfriend's mind a little, just so you could see how he'd react to being called small. in truth, you didn't necessarily believe he'd actually care that much, maybe he'd even jester back. no one needs to tell you that morax had experience, and a special way of going around your body— so naturally, you expected him to simply laugh off the comment of being on the smaller side, especially his girth.
you can feel his cockhead nudge over your throbbing hole, ever so slightly inching inside until you'd gasp from both fullness and ache. zhongli was never too rough with you, he couldn't be, the idea of actually hurting you was sending numerous shivers into his body.
“i'm fond of this side of you, my dear, i love when you say nonsense like this,"
before you can form your words, his lips found yours, although rougher this time— teeth colliding together messily as his tongue laps across your own, exploring the inside and groaning when you tug roughly at his disheveled strands, his raw emotions enough for to lose a war you were never able to win in the first place.
zhongli hears you pant softly into his lips and he could cum just here and there if it wasn't for his self restraint, calculating his hot trails of touches as your walls glister beautifully around his hard and heavy shaft. your reactions excited him as much as reminding you that there's no point in lying to your lover, not when he always fucked you so nicely and left you breathless.
"zhongli— please please don't tease me now.." you whimper, words muffled beneath him as you attempt to reason, "i was just joking, really," and your voice? so deliciously at his mercy, sounding so pathetically weak that it strengthens the turmoil in your belly.
he breathes out a laugh, his musky scent lingering all over you, "you forgot your earlier statement already? that's not how it works."
you continue to mumble out precious pleas, unable to answer with words anymore as his dripping dick buries balls deep into your hot warmth before he grabs onto a fistful of your ass, "you feel so good, my dearest," he says wetly, pulling out of you and grinding back in immediately after as the bed drags against the wooden floor.
oh well, zhongli would be lying if your claim, even with how extremely amusing it was, didn't turn him on in the end.
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— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱
propped up on your elbows, you watch alhaitham get rid of his shirt before he attempts to go down on you, in fact, it was a sweet, little habit of his because he knew he had to prep you enough so it wouldn't end up feeling uncomfortable to you taking his bulky cock.
yet this time, you gaze up at him in open expectation, before stopping him from shuffling between your thighs, "no.. i want you now," you softly feel up his stomach as a sign of desire before smirking, "it's not like it makes a difference with your size, come here," before quickly wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down.
you kiss and lick over the slight confusion on alhaitham's face as he props your soaked hole with his middle finger breezily, "didn't i say you're not supposed to lie?"
"and what was that about always being honest in a relationship?" he affirms, stilling the movement of his finger before dropping his body on the mattress, the sheer impact of his weight falling to the bed making you tumble slightly.
"come on then," he urges you confidently, snaking his arms towards your hips before lifting you above his pulsing erection, your wet folds sitting gently against his cock throbbing between, "if that's what you believe, you can ride me tonight, correct?"
"..uh, sure," your voice wasn't anywhere near his confidence and you didn't believe it was even possible for you to reach that level in the first place. although your rhythm was hesitant at first, you begin to lift yourself up as alhaitham wraps his palm around his aching shaft, giving it a good stroke and making you line yourself up alone.
you don't mind, do you? not under any condition could it be difficult if what you've said was the truth and nothing but the truth.
his fingers dig into your hips as you take his cock head, the stretch of it slightly burning. but you're determined, in fact, you never achieved victory against alhaitham and perhaps, that was your secret time to shine.
breaking the silence, you wince before a dozen of soft, silken moans gash from your mouth, not making it any easier for you. nevertheless, you carry on to move your hips, thighs shuddering and your hands finding support by leaning against his toned abs.
"f-fuck—" a needy whine echoes and finds alhaitham's ears as the glow of shyness in your gaze refuses to meet his intense, sweltering one.
he hums, making you whimper, "you need help?" as his fingers compress into your skin to shift his hips up and hold yours down at the same time, forcing your cunt to take a couple inches more.
your head immediately lolls back as he bottoms up again, again and again until he's filling the space in your hole, sliding his palms over your ass and kneading a fistful of flesh before dragging you up and down his length. alhaitham can make out the beauty of your figure even better now, he might become addicted to this position presenting him your bothered face, your erected nipples and your beautiful tummy all for his eyes to relish in.
"too slow," but you melt into his touch regardless, shivering above him, "didn't expect anything else," yet it was so amusing to him— because watching through alhaitham's pair of eyes, you should certainly do this more often, in fact, there was nothing that turned him on more than proving you wrong.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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I grew my hair out mainly because I wanted to be able to wear it in a bun but now I have so much hair and still can’t figure out how to do it
#emma posts#at least not one that looks like a train wreck and is yes a ponytail holder as well as the sticks or fork#I have it up right now but I had to use a ponytail holder as well as the fork and it turned out so messy with me needing to make adjustments#it looks like a mess#I’m actually wearing one though!!!#i just want to learn how before the weather gets too hot for my hair on my neck#hate hate hate when the back of my neck is really hot and sweaty because I can’t tie my hair up more than a ponytail#I am not growing it out past where it is now#but maybe I can work with this mess?#I at least feel less sweaty rn#my apartment got warmer while I was at my parents house this weekend#I’m not wearing these sweatpants again until fall#I love them but they are warm#they are tolerable indoors in winter and nice outdoors#but it’s finally warming up outside now and it’s warming up inside too#you’d think the person with a hairdresser cousin would be able to learn how to make hair buns#but nooo#how did people back in the day do it every day?#I guess a lot of the women in old family photos had short hair#perfect for the fields#but someone had to be able to do this at some point!!!#they are dead now though#I know how to braid hair at least but I haven’t done my own since childhood#I tried again last year and it didn’t go well#I gave up on that#my mom didn’t know how to braid hair though so I have one up on her#even though she knows how to do a lot of things with clips#the disaster bun hasn’t fallen out yet though!!!
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caxde · 2 months
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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader
summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)
warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3
It was warm outside. 
Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping. 
You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer. 
You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve. 
You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door. 
You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could. 
“Hi.” 
It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes. 
“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out. 
She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded. 
“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her. 
You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun. 
“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you. 
“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you. 
“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers. 
But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty. 
pretty, pretty, pretty. 
Your cheeks become warmer, pinker. 
As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said. 
He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms. 
He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips. 
You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him. 
“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner. 
“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider. 
If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close. 
He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet. 
He wasn’t used to this though. 
A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom. 
“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms. 
Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment. 
The thought made him smile to himself.
“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction. 
He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile. 
Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him. 
But you didn’t. 
Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met. 
“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean. 
“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours. 
“That’s us.” 
“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple. 
“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…” 
He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back. 
You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened. 
You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind. 
It felt as if you were finally on the right path. 
-
“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window. 
She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon. 
“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa. 
He could scream out of excitement once she finally did. 
“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door. 
She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you. 
Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him. 
“Once I get back from work, deal?” 
Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up. 
He enjoyed this little moment. 
Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of. 
Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment. 
“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her. 
“She did.” 
“Who?” 
“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window. 
“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning. 
“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard. 
“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy. 
“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you. 
“Okay bug, see you in a bit?” 
“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss. 
“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him. 
“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded. 
And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home. 
You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally. 
“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him. 
He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up. 
“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets. 
“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in. 
“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up. 
“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-” 
“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?” 
Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing. 
While you had to try hard to hide your excitement. 
“You don’t have to…” 
“Shut up. She deserves it.” 
Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse. 
“What time were you thinking?” 
“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…” 
“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.” 
He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway. 
“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush. 
“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.” 
He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot. 
-
You might have gone a bit overboard. 
You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe. 
The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one. 
Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics. 
You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control. 
Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing. 
A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began. 
“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready. 
Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to. 
Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard. 
“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think. 
“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad. 
Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her. 
He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough. 
Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around. 
Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette  tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways. 
“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing. 
“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no. 
“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music. 
The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.
“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely. 
He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was. 
“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.” 
“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?” 
“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response. 
“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning. 
“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you. 
“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach. 
“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them. 
-
You were on the couch. 
Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really. 
You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily. 
Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good. 
He didn’t really know you. 
Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet. 
Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough. 
It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there. 
Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while. 
You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much. 
While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much. 
You didn’t care. Not at all. 
Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.
-
part 2 is up!
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference &lt;3
requests! are open
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modrzew-hub · 1 year
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thinking about the Hungarian card game known as "Paszkievics tarokk" after general Paskevich (who surpressed their rebellion in 1848) because you need 48 points to win the game, and thinking about the traditional Polish "Grunwald" moonshine recipe (1 kg of sugar/4 litres of water/10 dag of yeast), 1410 being the date of the Battle of Grunwald
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murdrdocs · 2 months
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venus fly
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description. the pollen that sprayed in LUKE CASTELLAN's face earlier this morning has some really weird effects. not that he's complaining.
a continuation of this drabble
includes. sex pollen SUGGESTIVE CONTENT 18+, accidental drugging, loser!luke, best friend!reader, demeter!reader, implied oral (f and m receiving), slightly perv!luke, aftercare almost nonexistent
wc: 4.5k+
a/n: the long awaited sex pollen fic. title from venus fly by grimes. no explicit smut ahead. artwork credit unknown.
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Your shirt is fitting you really well. 
Your lips are moving, you’re saying something to Luke, he assumes it’s likely at least a little bit important, but he can only focus on how well your shirt is fitting. 
Tight enough over your bust—Luke figures you’re wearing a sports bra for capture the flag today since he sees no bra lines, but the bra creates a nice shape for your tits, so he doesn’t need the lines to entertain him. 
“Did you get a new shirt?”
You stop whatever you were saying to look down at your chest. You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you fix Luke with a look of disappointment. 
“Wha–? It’s an older one. All of my others were dirty.” Your bosom is covered, but Luke is still staring. It’s like he cannot peel his eyes away. Though, he hasn’t tried. At least, not until you scold him. 
“Will you stop ogling me while I’m trying to talk to you?” 
His reply is earnest. “Wait, shit, yeah. ‘m sorry I don't know what's going on…” 
You stare at him, your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted. Luke can’t help but fix his eyes there next. You’re wearing chapstick, or maybe lip gloss. Something spread over your lips that creates a nice sheen that makes him want to lick it off like icing on a treat. 
“It’s okay …” Your words aren’t that convincing but you drop your arms and start speaking again. This time, Luke takes in at least a dozen words. 
Really, he should have known what was wrong with him. The same way he should have known that eventually, his insistent nosiness would come back to bite him in the rear. 
You’d always warned him of such, telling him that “it’s charming until it’s not”, when you would boot him out of the greenhouse. (Truthfully, Luke had codependency issues but if he never really admitted it to himself, then he wouldn’t have to admit it to you, either.)
You were spending more time in the greenhouse lately. Which has never been a problem for Luke. But your newest project, something completely unknown to Luke as it was apparently a Demeter kid only project, was taking away his time with you. You could barely spare a half hour to go by the lake. You traded chores with one of your siblings for more time in the greenhouse, leaving Luke to work with someone not nearly as entertaining as you. 
The only time he got to really see you was early in the morning and late at night. And if he was losing his time to something else—or, gods forbid, someone else—he wanted to know what it was. 
So right when you were leaving the greenhouse early that morning, Luke snuck in after you. He searched around, trying to find evidence of you anywhere, and when he did find it, he found his demise there, too.
Sitting next to your favorite pen was a potted plant. It resembled a venus fly trap, but immensely bigger. There were a cluster of them, some with large flowers growing out of the opened mouths. Luke stupidly had the urge to provoke the plant, driven by the desire to see them in action. 
He took your favorite pen, and gently stuck it inside of the mouth. 
When a puff of yellow smoke hit him square in the face, he hadn’t thought much of it. 
When he stumbled out of the greenhouse with a fog in his head and dizziness, he thought it to be a single side effect. 
When he started to feel warmer than usual, he thought it to be an effect of the insistent summer heat. 
It’s not until he’s waking up on the ground that he really begins to worry. 
His eyes open and he is immediately greeted with the sun attempting to blind him. He squints and raises a hand over his face, shielding both the sun and whoever stands over him. 
When they speak, he doesn’t need his eyes to tell who he is joined by. 
“Jesus, Castellan, if you didn’t scare the shit outta me just now I would be bragging about beating you.” 
Luke groans and rolls onto his side. He’s still wearing his battle armor over his clothes and he suddenly feels uncomfortable, like everything has been made wrong or maybe like he has outgrown them. His camp shirt is too tight against his body, pressing the sweat back into his skin and not allowing for any breathing room. His shorts feel awkward in the crotch, as do his briefs. And his shoes are suffocating his feet. 
There is nothing he wants more in this moment than to peel the armor and clothes off of his body and run down to the water. But he doesn’t know if the game has ended yet, nor does he know how long he has been out. 
There are many unanswered questions he has, but the first one he starts with is, “Why are you here?” 
He hears you scoff and knows you have rolled your eyes. 
“We were sparring and you just passed out. I wasn’t just going to leave you here.” 
He finally looks at you. His eyesight has readjusted to the light from the star above, so it stings just a bit less when he peers one eye open. 
You add on, “I didn’t know if you had spontaneously died or something! And now that I know you’re fine…” You bend down and grab your helmet, situating it back on your head and standing at attention over Luke. 
He needs to stand. The last thing he remembers is fighting you and he's never lost a fight to you. In his mind, he hasn’t surrendered, and you haven’t defeated him, so he needs to stand. 
He tries to, he really does, but his knees get weak and as soon as he’s up, his head spins and he’s right back down. 
You swear just before your knees are hitting the earth and you’re kneeling beside him. 
Luke can feel you pressing the back of your hand against his forehead, he can hear you asking him a few questions, he can see your wide eyes staring into his heavy ones, but he can’t respond. He can’t do anything but worry about the bile rising in his throat, or focus on the shining water just behind you. 
He doesn’t realize that he has begun moving until the bottom of his pants feel heavy with the weight of water. 
When he’s in to his thighs, he collapses and lets the ripples wash over his body. 
You don’t follow him until after him for a few moments, and when you do, you stand still at the shoreline. You let Luke soak the heat and sweat off of his skin as best as the circumstances allow, and you only speak to him once he’s standing right in front of you in soaked clothes and wet armor. 
“What’d you take?” 
At first, he’s not playing dumb. It just takes a moment for your words to plant in his mind. Then he plays dumb. 
“Take? I don’t know what you mean.”
You don’t entertain his ditziness and instead begin making your case. 
“You’re clearly on something, Luke. You’re sweating even though it’s as cool as it usually is. Your pupils are wide and your eyes go from restless to barely open. You keep fidgeting and every few minutes you twitch. And you’re standing here, talking to me, instead of helping the red team secure another win.” 
Luke hadn’t noticed most of his symptoms. It’s not like he can notice anything other than the thoughts in his mind, especially when they give him images of your tits bouncing in his face and audible hallucinations of what you would sound like moaning his name. 
He decides then and there that capture the flag doesn’t matter. Not when he has what he wants, the true glory, right in front of him. 
He heard you, he processed your words, but the sight of your lips distracts him once more and prevents him from instantly responding. He stares instead, watching your mouth through lazy blinks. 
He doesn’t even consider responding until you tut. 
“If you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine. I’ll go get Maria L to take care of you then.” 
Luke's eyes widen. Maria L is an excellent healer but she also has a pestering crush on Luke, one that encourages her to touch Luke with grazes that border on harassment and lack any professionalism. 
“No! Not her.” Luke would feel bad about his reaction to the girls name if he didn’t have such a one track mind. 
Your eyebrows raise to tell him to continue. He does so begrudgingly. 
He picks at his fingernails and his cuticles until dead skin peels back to reveal blood. But the sting on his thumb doesn’t compare to the dull pain residing in his groin. 
He knows that admitting the truth to you would open the possibility of criticism. His current … illness aside, you would never let him live down the day his nosiness actually reaped consequences. He briefly considers accepting defeat, walking away with his tail tucked between his legs, and taking control of the growing boner on his own. 
He might be generally inexperienced in these situations, but even he knows that his own fist wouldn’t compare to even the slightest bit of attention from you. 
He opens his mouth. “I went in the greenhouse.” 
Your eyes widen as if Luke had confessed to committing a cardinal sin, and it’s then that Luke begins to really worry about himself.
“Did you …?” You don’t even have to finish your sentence before he nods. “Luke! You fucking-“
Not really in the mood for your chastising, Luke holds one hand up.  He is able to silence you for only a second before you’re slapping his hand away. You’re yelling at him, both for trying to rudely shut you up, and for doing the one thing you told him not to do. 
He sits and listens, waiting not-so-patiently for you to tire yourself out. He thought that point would come sooner than it does, but he’s sure that at least two minutes have passed and you’re showing no signs of stopping. 
He rolls his eyes, he furrows his eyebrows, and he tries to discreetly adjust the boner in his cargos, but according to you, Luke has never been discreet a day in his life. He has never believed in your so-called ability to see right through him until your eyes pointedly drift to his crotch with his hand still attached to it. 
Your insistent rambling ends unfinished. You blink, you don’t say anything. And then:
“Oh.”
At this point, he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. You fill the silence for him. 
“Oh, Luke. I told you not to go in there because …”
His eyebrows lift. “Because what?” 
You take a breath. “The plant, the Venus Fly, the pollen is an aphrodisiac.”
Luke knows what an aphrodisiac is, he isn’t dumb, but he still asks for clarification. And when you explain, he asks you to dumb it down. Even then, he blinks at you. Because you were right. His nosiness caused this. 
He’s considering pitying himself whenever you suggest the one proposed solution, the only solution the Demeter and Apollo kids have been workshopping together ever since acquiring the plant from another kid's quest. 
And when your solution comes, Luke determines that there is no way he could pity himself whenever he is in the position he’s been dreaming of for literal years.
He might not have envisioned this particular scenario, as his fantasies usually entailed the two of you alone in a bed not at Camp Half-Blood. But something about this makes him enjoy it more. Out in nature, in the open with many possibilities of being caught surrounding you both. His lips on yours, his lips surrounding yours, as he kisses you messily. 
There is something perverse about the idea of getting to fuck you out in the open, gods willing. He didn’t think it was something he would be into, but it’s all he can think about when he’s rutting against you. 
He breathes you in. “I’ve …” he takes a moment, rubbing his stiff cock against your crotch once more. He groans as he speaks. “I’ve been thinking about this for so long.” 
You hum, your hands fisting the part of the back of Luke’s shirt that isn’t covered by his armor. 
“Luke,” you start and your voice is already full of hesitance. Luke isn’t sure he wants to hear what you have to say, but he knows it would be wrong not to. He busies himself with kissing your neck and under your jaw. 
“It’s the pollen talking,” you tell him. “You’re not yourself. You’re basica-“ He bites down onto where he can feel your pulse thrumming under your skin. You gasp, loud and broken, before continuing. “You’re basically drugged.” 
Somewhere deep down Luke knows that there’s logic in your statement, there usually is logic in your statements, besides during those times where you would say whatever came to your mind in the late hours of the night. But he doesn’t care, logic be damned. 
He knows that he’s felt this way—or at least in the range of this way—for a while now. The pollen has just given him the confidence to act on his desires. 
While the pollen has given him confidence, it hasn’t given him experience. 
He sloppily kisses along your neck and jaw, not necessarily knowing what he’s doing but he knows he’s expected to suck at one point, so he does. He just wants to please. 
You don’t react much to his lips on your skin, so he lifts a hand and slides it under your shirt and armor. The chest piece doesn’t allow for much maneuvering and Luke frowns against your skin before he separates completely to pull the armor off himself. 
He knows the clasps on the metal as well as he knows clasps on his favorite pair of pants. Yet his hands fumble. Excitement and the effects of the pollen, he reasons. But his face becomes warm from something other than the two, something he would rather not fully acknowledge. Especially not when he’s about to get his dick wet in the warmth of the one person he’s wanted since he was old enough to actually understand sex. 
You ask Luke if he wants your help with your usual teasing tone, but Luke doesn’t take kindly to it. As soon as he has the chest piece off, he has your shirt following it, and then his lips are back on yours. 
If even possible, this kiss is heavier. Firmer. Meaner. 
He still doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he calls onto the one other time he’d made out with someone. He remembers how he had been instructed to use his tongue and lick into his partner's mouth (a boy from the Ares cabin who stopped coming to camp a year ago). He had been kind to Luke when he didn’t know what he was doing, but now Luke feels like he needs to prove himself. He wants to prove himself. He wants to impress you. 
What results is a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s messy, sloppy, and slobbery. 
Luke likes it that way. 
You pull away first. 
Not much has been done, but you look a mess. Your lips are coated in saliva, probably yours and Luke’s, and pride floods his chest. You look flushed, too, and Luke sincerely hopes he’ll be able to amplify the emotion on your face soon thereafter. 
“Slow down. Luke.” Your words are soft, gentle, and kind. Just like you. Just like your hands that card through his still-wet hair. 
He winces, and not from the way your fingers snag on a cluster of curls. Wrongly assuming the cause of his sound, you apologize and smooth the patch of hair down. Your hands instead slide down Luke’s shoulders and he tries not to frown at the change. 
“Sorry,” he admits. He gnaws on his bottom lip, already missing the feeling of yours, and finds himself continuing. “I haven’t really made out with anyone since …”
You nod, lips pulling up in the corners. “Theo?” Luke nods. “I know. We tell each other everything, remember?”
Not everything. 
No one else is privy to the dreams Luke has about you. He has never told you, or anyone else, about all of the times he would fist his cock and chant your name in the showers late at night. In fact, when you would ask what took him so long, he would make up a lie about taking advantage of the hot water and solitude. While it was only a white lie, it was a lie nonetheless. 
The innocent and naive look on your face as you accepted his lie by omission only made Luke’s cock harder. 
You’re staring up at him now with a look different enough, but his reaction is the same.  Your eyes hold interest, intrigue, a little bit of mischief, perhaps. You look sure of yourself, like you’ve done this and in this capacity multiple times before. But Luke knows about your experience, nearly the exact same as his save for a few details he wishes to erase. 
When you had dished on your sexual history, Luke felt jealousy stirring deep in his stomach. He had been with other people, a guy and a girl, but that was in hopes of getting his mind off of you. Meanwhile, you had been with other people out of personal interest and not self-deluded necessity. 
Either way, your experience is almost the same as Luke’s, and knowing so makes it easier for him to take the lead. 
He kisses you again but he tries to go slower. Everything in him screams for him to speed up, to take you how he pleased, but he breathes and pushes the thoughts aside. 
Taking it slow pays off when you work the armor off of Luke’s torso (without much difficulty at all), and then slide your hands under his orange shirt to rest your palms against his abs. The feeling of your skin against his is striking, even though the touch isn’t much at all. Pathetically, Luke is affected by the meaning more than the physicality. 
“What do you feel now?” You ask him after pulling away from his lips. 
Luke’s immediate reflex is to say “horny”. 
You roll your eyes and absentmindedly scratch your nails against his abs. When he keens, he figures he’s hornier than even he thought. 
“I mean other than that. Your skin is warm so I’m assuming you’re still nearing a fever, at least. Are you lightheaded? Nauseous? Anything?”
Luke feels like he’s been slapped in the face. You were asking about his symptoms like a healer. Like an Apollo kid. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were only touching him to gauge his temperature. Were you only doing this—kissing him—to keep his fever warded off? Did you even want this? 
Rationally, he knows that you would do anything to help him. You’re his best friend, after all. But he wants you to want this, otherwise it would mean nothing.  Otherwise, he wouldn’t even begin to hold a torch to your previous partners. He would be the one you laid with out of moral obligation and not interest. 
He hadn’t been feeling nauseous before, but his throat starts to construct as if preparing to trigger his gag reflex. 
He hasn’t responded and you’re looking at him inquisitively. 
“Nauseous,” he starts. “Hot. Horny. Are you only doing this to keep me from dying?” The question messily tumbles out without him noticing. 
You run your tongue over your teeth. “Yes. But there’s also personal benefits involved.” 
Usually, Luke could decipher your maze-like answers. But he’s so hot and worked up and lacking an immense amount of patience. 
“So you want to fuck me?” 
Luke doesn’t continue his work until you respond. 
“Yes, Luke. I want to fuck you.” 
He has your shirt over your head in less than a minute. The button on your shorts is undone 30 seconds after that. He has completely forgotten about your plea to go slower, but even if he did remember he wouldn’t be able to comply. 
He needs to feel you. All of you. Or else he might collapse then and there. 
His hands run over your shoulders and torso gratefully, only appearing as the opposite whenever he runs into your bra (a sports bra, as he had assumed). As soon as he has the straps pulled down, he latches his lips onto the newly revealed skin. 
Distantly, Luke thinks he would have liked to have been able to lay you back. He wants to see you laid out before him while you’re completely at his mercy. Luckily, he has learned to adapt. He has been dealt unfavorable cards in his life, and turned them into something worthy. He plans to do the same here and now. 
As he sinks to his knees, he pulls your shorts down with him. You don’t have to be told to step out of them, but as soon as you do, you’re looking down at Luke with your eyebrows raised. 
“Are you sure? I haven’t showered since yesterday and I’m really sweaty.” 
Luke doesn’t pay any mind to your words. As you’re speaking, he already has his fingers forced under the elastic fabric of your panties. 
“I’m sure.” 
He pulls the fabric down. 
“You don’t have to.” 
“I want to.” 
He pulls your leg over his shoulder, bringing your cunt straight to his face. 
He has never gotten this far with someone before, he has never even seen examples of what to do in this position. He could back out. He could set your leg back down and only get his dick wet. But you smell so good, and you’re practically glistening in the sun, and you’re staring down at him expectantly so Luke slowly leans forward, sticks his tongue out, and gets to work. 
By the time Luke feels even a bit satiated, the sun has started to descend to its destination below the horizon, creating a soft blue hue over the sky. 
You’re panting under him, your back and arms painted with dirt, just a bit smudged on your cheek and a few flecks of it strewn throughout your hair. Your stomach rises and falls with your breaths, drawing Luke’s attention to the fresh cum laying there. There’s some dried cum on your back, and just the smallest smudge at the corner of your lips. Luke doesn’t think much before he licks his thumb and wipes away the white crust from your mouth. 
He sits back on his haunches and sighs with his head tilted to the sky. His hands rest on his thighs with an exorbitant amount of self control, as he desperately wishes to wrap his fingers around his semi-erect cock and jerk himself to another orgasm. 
He thinks that most of the pollen has left his system by now, and at this point the desire he feels is natural. It’s the same desire he has felt for you for a while now, only amplified by the memory of what the real thing was like with you. It’s addicting. Luke truly cannot get enough, even though he has been out here with you for hours. Somewhere along the way, one of the teams won capture the flag. Luke wasn’t sure which one, but the triumphant yells in the distance alerted him of a victory. Somewhere between his third orgasm and your fourth, the conch for lunch blew off into the distance, but Luke had absolutely no concern for satisfying his physical hunger. He was too focused on the sight in front of him. 
When he brings his vision back down, you’re sitting with your legs pulled in your chest and your arms wrapped around your calves. 
“We should clean up and go have dinner,” you tell him, your voice weak and hoarse. 
Fear strikes Luke still. You’re avoiding his eyes, staring down at the dirt, and speaking in a soft voice. 
He shuffles closer to you, reaches out to touch you, and then he reconsiders. You take a deep breath, and Luke rests his hand on your elbow. 
“Okay. Are you okay? I know that was a lot.”
You look at him and Luke feels a bit better, because while your eyes are a bit distant, you don’t look upset. 
“I’ll be okay. ‘m just tired. But what about you, are you fine?” 
There is still that nagging in the back of his head, telling him to take you one more time, but his logical part knows that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He knows that you’ve had enough. Which means he, too, has had enough. 
“I’m good.” He leans forward and presses a kiss into your hairline. He stands, pulls his boxers onto his lower half, and offers you his hand. “C’mon.” 
You let Luke help you redress and hold his hand as he leads you back to camp the back way. You two come out of the forest right by the showers, where Luke tells you to wait while he does his best to sneakily run back to the cabins. He grabs himself a change of clothes, then sneaks into the Demeter cabin where he does the same for you. 
He knows that he has just seen all of your intimate parts for hours on end, but holding your panties in his hand makes his ears redden. Blood threatens to rush down to his crotch but he fills his head with the most undesirable images until he reaches you. 
Two showers are started, you and Luke stand back to back, and Luke enters his shower. 
When the bathroom is covered in steam and you’ve both used the remnants of the hot water, you and Luke redress and reach the dining pavilion just in time for dinner. 
He falls into the routine of a caring counselor easily. He answers insistent questions about his previous whereabouts with a passing “I was sick” that earns just enough sympathy and stops the questions all together. A few times he looks across the way to see you already looking at him. Instead of dropping his eyes or teasing you with the slyest middle finger he could muster, he smiles at you just slyly enough to not raise suspicion. 
When offerings have been given, and Luke feels full in multiple ways, he finds you at the bonfire and sits with his leg flushed to yours. 
He had just begun to think that all of the pollen was out until you rested your hand on his knee and he felt a jump in his stomach. 
Goddamn it. 
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swagging-back-to · 1 year
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tw lots of bad stuff, torture, violation, etc
one thing people allllways seem to overlook when it comes to someone being tortured by kept tied to a bed or in a tube or whatever is the use of catheters--both urethral and intrarectal-- colostomy bags, and any other waste collection device i dont know about.
it's already INCREDIBLY violating to have catheters put in with consent by someone you trust, let lone by your captor/abuser/torturer against your will. Not to mention the pain that comes with not being able to move and have control over your body, the possibility of severe infection if the device isnt changed or cleaned. colostomy bags are less violating surface level, but depending on the amount of colon an/or intestines removed, as well as if barbie bum surgery was conducted, it can be a drastically life altering and emotionally damaging experience knowing you'll never be able to shit on your own or actually feel your bowel movements (a slightly less life threatening con to this, specifically for gay males, is that they cant have have anal sex if they have barbie bum surgery). Depending on how much of the intestines were removed, malnutrition could also be a major risk. Colostomy bags also require much more upkeep and cleaning, because it's literally a gaping hole in your stomach leading directly to your organs.
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spicyspiders · 1 month
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something that never existed
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Francis Mosses x male reader smut
1.4k words
This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.
It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy. 
The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you. 
Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–
You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door. 
“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy. 
“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you. 
Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable. 
You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground. 
“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you. 
You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays. 
“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands. 
“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.  
“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift. 
“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand. 
“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you. 
The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk. 
“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable. 
“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window. 
“You must get thirsty back there.”
“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”
He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door. 
“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob. 
Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day. 
“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear. 
With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back. 
“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back. 
You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear. 
Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock. 
“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs. 
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock. 
You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real. 
“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth. 
He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed. 
“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”
His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base. 
You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.    
Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”
It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up. 
Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you. 
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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ೀ 🪞 ‧ ˚ 💕 ⊹˚. ♡
i love s1!rafe, fratboy!rafe — because he has the most predictable moves and yet they work.
arriving to his house, you’re sure to be met with “where’s my hug, huh? you shy now?” but he’s so hot you can’t help but fall into his embrace of course, even going the extra mile to push your tits against his chest because you know that’s what he really wanted.
he’s got nothing interesting planned for the two of you, hitting you with the “shit, you wanna watch a movie or…?” and yes! you’d love to watch a movie! except you’re not really watching, you’re waiting for his inevitable “why you sittin’ so far away? i don’t bite.” but he’s a gentleman so he holds back the ‘unless you want me to, aha’ that he had stored up.
once he’s got you pressed to his side, the games begin. “damn uh, the material of this skirt it’s like… thick as hell. what is— is that not uncomfortable? you can totally take it off if you want.”
he’ll take your hand in his own, tell you how small it is compared to his, makes you laugh. it works like a charm, and you combat this by telling him how big his arms are and just how weak you are in comparison. telling him you bet he could lift anything.
and suddenly you start to notice how the AC is switched off, his body feeling warmer and warmer against your own. “shit, it’s fuckin’ boiling. don’t mind if i take my shirt off right?” of course you don’t mind.
it seems like no time has passed before he’s got you on his lap, wincing as he lifts his hips in quick successions to pound his cock inside your needy hole. “yeah i know what you fuckin’ want. i know what you fuckin’ want you wanna cum on it don’t you? don’t you?” he’s spitting out through grit teeth and you’re a mess of moans, but no matter how quiet he’s talking you through it you can always hear him — because the TV’s gone quiet, netflix taking the time to ask if you’re still watching.
ೀ 🪞 ‧ ˚ 💕 ⊹˚. ♡
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rafeschicana · 17 days
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𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。 ˚ just like her mama/daddy 𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘
dad!rafe x mom!reader
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the constant beeping woke you from your afternoon nap. only given birth three weeks ago naps with your newborn baby were routine. you blinked, slowly bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes. it’s only when you hear a shriek, do you sit up in bed panicking. you quickly look to the left of your bed where your daughter’s bassinet is, finding it empty. after struggling with removing the throw blanket that was tangled between your legs, you leave the room in search of your newborn daughter and her father.
“i’m sorry baby i know, i know mama is smarter than daddy, please be patient” rafe whispers to the fussy baby who whines in his arms. “Just let me put you down for one second!” he pleads to a fussy ari. that is when you decide to help. “i got it” you giggle walking towards the bottle warmer rafe couldn’t get started. “sorry we woke you, babe, she’s hungry and i couldn’t get that shit on.” he mumbles.
“that’s okay, our baby is like her father very impatient..when he wants something.” you smirk making him shake his head. the sound of his raspy laugh calming the little bundle in his arms. “how are you feeling?” the simple question warming up your insides. rafe was already a loving husband before becoming a father. now seeing him as a dad almost brings you to tears every time. “im okay i needed that nap” you whisper running a finger down ari’s nose.
“she's so beautiful” you now understood what everyone says about moms believing they have the cutest newborn in the world. “just like her mama” rafe bent down placing a gentle kiss on your lips. he never fails to make you feel beautiful even though you thought you looked a mess. wearing one of rafe's shirts which now had spit-up stains. his own sweats were also covered in dried-up milk. it was all part of the new parent life. you'd get adjusted soon enough.
ari squirmed in her father’s arms. bottom lip forming a baby pout. “my princess don't you start i hate seeing you cry.” rafe cooed rocking back and forth. “it’s coming ari girl” pulling the bottle from the warmer you tested out the temperature on your wrist. “just needs a couple of seconds to cool down” your girl was very picky when it came to her milk temperature. if it was room temperature she wouldn't take it, spitting it right out with a whine. It needed to be the perfect in-between. “mama’s got milk okay let's go sit down” rafe moved towards the living room with you following behind.
immediately snuggling into both of your loves as they rested on the sofa. “it should be good” you smiled passing rafe ari’s bottle. “only three ounces lets see how fast she drinks this shit” rafe joked knowing his baby was a hungry little thing. “We might have to change her schedule to a bottle every two hours.” it'll be hard but maybe she'll sleep a little longer through the night.
“hey, hey slow down princess it ain't going anywhere” rafe gently removed the bottle from ari’s mouth. ari let out an angry breath, furrowing her eyebrows. “i think she's mad at you daddy” you giggled craning your neck to kiss his nose. rafe threw his head back in silent laughter “she looks so funny when she's mad” he brought the bottle back to her mouth. ari immediately going back to drinking her milk in slow gulps. “still cute though”
“just like her daddy” you whispered before letting your eyes close into slumber.
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gremlingottoosilly · 2 months
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Ok heavy on my mind rn but monster!konig who's warmed up to reader but they're still terrified of him. But since he likes them now he's nice enough to gently work her open for him, just gently shushing and praising for taking his eggs so well (sorry if it's worded badly I never do asks but I just love your writing xoxo)
Finally, admitting to himself that he loves treating you gently - you changed this man for the better, and humanity is thankful for your endeavours. Having your giant monster husband cling to you like an overgrown puppy is honestly terrifying, but you make do - you don't hide your fears, but now, every time you start to shake in the bed in front of him, he'd kiss your forehead gently and wrap his slimy, pheromone-covered tentacles around your most desired places, making you just a bit more relaxed. Teasing you with smaller tendrils, working you gently. You look simply beautiful with tears in your eyes and lips twisted in small expression of pleasure when he finally makes you feel aroused. Makes you want it, work your hips to meet the further, bumper parts of the tentacles and fill you up even more. Konig takes his time with you now. You know better than to run away or squirm too much, so he could just explore your body on his own. Lick and suck on your nipples, become obsessed with softness of your breasts, using his tentacles to twist your clit and stimulate your lower lips roughly - making you cry and kissing your tears away. He is cruel and gentle, he makes you giggle from tickling sensation both in your tummy and in your inner parts - he is making you cum from his tentacles alone and it's just a bit embarrassing.
"That's it, Schatzi...taking my eggs so well" He is pushing even more eggs inside of your growing tummy, massaging the lower parts of your stomach and only stopping when you whimper too much. His tentacles wrap around your tummy, supporting the weight - and it feels warmer than a real hug. "Such a good breeder for me...so good, ja?" Kisses you, covering you in marks and bites - he is trying to be gentle, but his possessive side is taking over again. Making sure you'd never run again.
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lovebugism · 4 months
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shy! reader request: eddie & reader having their first sleepover? reader bein all cautious about her actions and if it’s ok and eddie seeing this just lifts up the blankets to the bed to welcome her in to snuggle :)
love love love this request! hope you enjoy :D — eddie tries to make his shy!gf feel at home in his trailer (fluff, new relationship hijinks, 2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Despite what people say, Eddie Munson does not drive like a maniac.
Correction— Eddie Munson doesn’t drive like a maniac when there’s a pretty girl in his van.
Even though you’re pretty much the first girl to be in his van period (and even though you wouldn’t consider yourself all that pretty), you’re glad to be an exception to the rule. Your panoply of anxieties couldn’t have handled anything more than the passably steady car ride from Benny’s Burgers to Forest Hills.
You don’t mean to let out a sigh of relief when he parks in his driveway.
Eddie grins and unlatches his seatbelt with a soft click at the same time you do. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks with eyes just as wild as his hair.
You shake your head with your lips pursed to the side, then peer at him from beneath your lashes. “After everything Steve said, I was expecting a lot worse,” you confess. And even though you duck away from him, Eddie can still see the small smile on your petaled mouth. Just as quiet as you are.
“Well, one, don’t listen to anything Steve says, okay? Like, ever,” Eddie cajoles lightheartedly. “And two, I don’t drive crazy when I have precious cargo sitting next to me, alright? Stevie’s just jealous ‘cause I think you’re prettier than he is.”
Your nose scrunches as you try to worm your way out of his compliment. “So you think Steve’s pretty?” you tease, already knowing the answer.
He scoffs. “Totally! Just not pretty like you. And don’t tell him I said that either— It’ll just go to his hair.”
The incorrect turn of phrase makes you giggle.
He turns his knees towards the door and curls his fingers around the latch. “Wait for me a second, will ya?” you hear him mumble before he hops to the ground. He slams the door shut behind him and rounds the hood on his way to you — sneakers crunching against the gravel, momentarily aglow with yellow headlights.
He’d done this before at the diner. You wait patiently for his arrival like you did then, even though you feel a bit silly doing so. You’re more than capable of getting out yourself, but Eddie always insists. 
He opens the passenger side door for you with a tightlipped, lopsided grin and holds his free hand out towards you. His fingers are larger and much warmer than yours as they wrap around your palm to guide you out. 
The van isn’t that high up off the ground, really. He just likes to hold your hand.
You don’t mind it, though. You’ll take any opportunity to hold him back.
He leads you up the driveway and inside the trailer with his hand entwined with yours. “Wayne’s not here?” you murmur when you’re finally inside, noticing how quiet and empty the place is. 
Though maybe empty’s not the right word. The place is filled with stuff — old furniture, a collection of mugs, and various other necessities. Not a mess, just an organized chaos of miscellaneous clutter. It feels like a home. Like a place that’s been lived in.
“No. He’s at work. Graveyard shift,” Eddie answers, tossing his keys onto the coffee table with a high-pitched clack. 
He starts to shrug off his leather jacket and notices how squirrelly you seem, all skittish with your face twisted with a distant worry. Your neck twitches softly, head tilting once to the side and back up again. Your quiet concern becomes his own.
His brows raise, hidden beneath his curly bangs, as he slides the fabric down his tattooed arms. “Is that okay?” he wonders, eyes wide and twinkling with apprehension.
“Yeah!” you answer, louder and quicker than you mean to. You’re obviously overcompensating, but you shrug it off anyway. You smile sweetly at him, even though it wavers at the edges, and tilt your cheek to your shoulder. “I was just— It was just a question.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“‘Cause it’s okay if you don’t wanna stay the night,” Eddie assures you, giving you an out so you don’t have to make one yourself. “It’s whatever, you know? Give me the word, and I’ll take you back home. I’ll just spend the night all alone… In an empty trailer… In bed all by myself…”
His quiet smirk widens to a broader beam when he nears you. His pale hands curl around your arms, the faded bats below his thumb sitting neatly outside your elbow. 
He’s joking, of course. Well, not about the taking you home part, but about all the rest of it. 
He thinks he’d die if he ever made you feel anything less than totally safe. Dying would feel easier, at least. He’d never make you feel bad about being anxious, or coerce you into hiding your feelings for his sake. He cares about you far too much for any of that.
So his tense heart rests a bit when you smile.
“I’m okay,” you tell him, quiet but still sincere. 
The boy brightens all at once. Excited in such an innocent, boyish way. “So I get to kiss you all night long?” he wonders in a disbelieving murmur.
“Only if you want,” you answer with burning cheeks and clammy hands.
“Well, I do want… I want very much…”
He kisses you then, until your lungs run out of air. Standing together in the middle of his living room, lit by so many yellow lamps, with the croaking of frogs and the chittering of crickets sounding in the navy blue night.
He pulls away sometime after. Maybe a second. Maybe an eon or more. He recovers from being so ardently kissed much quicker than you do and guides you down the short hallway to the single bedroom. You still feel the imprint of his mouth against yours, like he’s still there. 
Your lips tingle with longing, grieving the lack of him.
You still make him turn around before you change, though.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he teases from the very center of his mattress, right before turning onto his stomach and shoving his face into the pillow.
“It’s different,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you slide the sleeves of your dress down your shoulders. The fabric falls to the carpeted floor in a puddle at your feet. You make quick work of redressing, as though there were some kinda time limit to what you had asked of him.
“I know,” he replies, muffled into the cushion his cheek is smushed against. “You’re still pretty, though.”
“You can’t even see me,” you argue and slide a pair of frilly sleep shorts over your thighs.
“I’d still think you were pretty even if I never saw you again.”
“Jeez,” you laugh, shoving your head through the neckline of a band-tee older than you are.
“…That sounded kinda morbid, huh?”
You giggle again. This time because his voice is still smothered into the pillow, stifled and utterly faint. “Just a little,” you answer.
“Well, it was supposed to be a compliment.”
“I know. You can turn around now.”
Eddie lifts his wild head and peeks at you over his shoulder, one eye squinted shut just in case he heard you wrong.
You’re less dressed up than before, but still as pretty as you were ten minutes ago. 
The subtle domesticity of seeing you in pajamas makes his chest ache. It’s like doing laundry or making a shopping list — something so utterly mundane that’s so strikingly tender.
“Pretty,” Eddie mumbles some moments later, when his brain forgets every word but that one.
“Shut up.”
Your hands wring together as you idle at his bedside, like you need some kinda invitation to come closer. Your head tilts again, a gentle swaying of your head that seems almost involuntary.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Eddie wonders with a soft pink, inquisitive grin. 
‘Cause this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. You did it earlier, when you first walked in, and a couple times at the dinner. Like when you catch him staring or after he’s complimented you. It’s almost like you have some genuine aversion to his affection.
“Doing what?” you murmur, all innocent.
Eddie swings his legs off the side of the mattress, socked feet melting into the carpet. His parted thighs are enough of an invitation as you settle intently between them. 
“That thing with your neck,” he answers when he’s fully upright. “The uh…” He replicates it for you, drops his cheek to his shoulder and brings it back up again. He doubts he looks nearly as cute as you do doing it.
You get so self-aware that your stomach starts to ache. “I don’t know,” you answer through the frog in your throat. “I do that sometimes, I guess— When I get nervous. I can’t really help it.”
“Nervous?” Eddie echoes, face twisted with sudden anguish. His hands reach for your wringing ones. He musters a shaking smile up at you. “Babe— Why are you nervous?”
You dig your bare feet into the carpet, shifting your weight and ducking your gaze like a nervous child. “‘Cause I haven’t slept over before. And I don’t really know what to… do. Like, what if I snore really loud? Or drool a lot? What if I accidentally punch you in my sleep or something?”
Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh in the face of your genuine worries, but it spills out before he can stop it. It’s so like you to stress yourself sick over something that’s about as likely to happen as getting struck by lightning.
“I’d probably like you more, honestly,” he answers, giving your clammy hands a gentle squeeze. His nose scrunches until the edges of his eyes crinkle. “You’re too perfect. You need something to humble you.”
“Don’t be nice to me, I’m being serious.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I can sleep on the couch. Or on the floor or something—”
“It’s your house, Eds.”
“Well, I’m not making you sleep on the couch, and especially not on the floor. Even if I was that big of an asshole, I think Uncle Wayne would kill me.” He grows suddenly serious a second later. Still smiling, but with something more earnest in his eyes. “But… I do think we’d be more comfortable, you know, in a bed. Together.”
He’s right, but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it. Not because you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as him, but because you’re too anxious to let yourself enjoy a good thing.
“I’m just bad at sleepovers, I think,” you confess in a tiny voice, like that fact isn’t utterly obvious now. “Like, one time, I was at a friend’s house in middle school, and I used a poster as a blanket ‘cause I was too scared to ask for a real one.”
Eddie’s smile widens. The rose petal expression blooms so large it makes his cheeks hurt. 
“Of course, you did,” the boy says with a shake of his head, frizzy curls swaying around the outsides of his jaw. “You’re so damn cute, you know that?”
You make a vague, grumbly noise of disdain right before Eddie wraps you in his arms. He pulls you softly down until you’re sitting on his jean-clad thighs, then buries his face into your shoulder. You smell like the soap you showered with and the burgers you ate and the perfume you put on just for him.
Eddie presses his lips there, to your collarbone, where the neckline of your shirt has dipped slightly down. He lingers there for a moment, then pulls away with a soft smack.
“I promise to make this the best damn sleepover you’ve ever had in your life,” he promises, muffled from where his nose is smushed into your neck.
“Yeah?” you mumble into the curls tickling your chin.
He nods, still pressed against you. “And I promise to tuck you in before bed so you don’t have to go using my posters as blankets, either.”
You push him away with a half-hearted hand. His boyish laughter paints the tiny bedroom golden. He pulls you back a second later, and you melt into him without thinking twice.
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wifeyoozi · 20 days
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choi seungcheol  ✶ 𓂃   sweet red cherry
w.c : 0.9 k ┊ synopsis : cheol comes home to see you wearing panties with the quote, "fuck this ass" ┊ content warning : smut , established relationship, slight (consensual) somnophilia , unprotected sex (wrap the willy guys) , coming untouched a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read also a little sloppy writing since this is my first actual drabble on the blog (I swear I write better than this, I just got a little nervous help T-T)
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Seungcheol had reached home early in the morning after his long flight after shooting. He'd instantly took off his coat and his hoody and his sweaty tshirt and his rough jeans, stripping down to his boxers. With a tired mind, he climbed a top the bed beside you.
You were sleeping on your stomach, wearing a loose old tshirt of his, mumbling something in sleep. The duvet was pulled just till your shoulders, but the aircon was turned off and the weather was starting to get warmer.
It was a sunday and neither of you had to work, so seungcheol indulged in himself, slipping a hand upto your waist, pulling you close. You were sweating, so he pulled off the duvet, too lazy and tired to get up and start the Aircon instead.
You moaned softly as the cooler breeze reached your skin. He took his time sweeping his hand over your clothed curve of skin as he slipped the duvet down. Under the duvet you slept with your one leg hitched up, making your ass look wonderful in your ...
You weren't wearing any pants. Just one bright red pair of soft cotton underwear with the quote at the back - "fuck this ass" - in curvy white font adoring your ass. He rubbed his hand over the plump curve of it, slipping a finger inside the elastic to touch the soft skin, his boxers tight against his erection.
You made a sleepy noise and Seungcheol leaned down towards your neck, pushing the hair from there and exposing the wet strip of skin of your neck. he barely wiped off the beads of sweat before peppering sloppy and wet kisses there. "Baby, wake up," he murmured softly, slipping his palm inside your panties and gripping the flesh.
you squirmed, still sleepy but woken from your slumber. you moaned, feeling your lover's calloused fingers digging in your ass, "mhn, cheollie ..."
"fuck, princess," Seungcheol dipped his hand lower, his fingers getting sucked between your slick lips, "wearing these panties for me, are you? such a tease."
you let out a whorish sound when seungcheol's two fingers slipped right into your heat, "just for you,"
seungcheol pulled you close so he could rub his clothed hard dick directly against your ass. he fingered you really slow, scissoring you open for him. his fingers were long and think and he found your g-spot with a practiced ease, knuckles deep in you. you moaned feeling him add pressure over it.
seungcheol chuckled, "baby, look at you, so horny first thing in the morning," he took his cock out of his boxers, the sound of it slapping against his abdomen doing something very vile in your head. you whined when he took his fingers out of your cunt to coat his dick . he laughed again, giving a few pumps to his dick before moving aside you panties and lining himself with your entrance.
"so fucking needy," he holds your hips as he marked his sentence with a thrust in your vagina. you immediately whimpered, feeling the weight of his thick cock hit deep in you.
he increased his speed soon, hitting your sweet point with every thrust. you let out a series of ah-ah-ahs, whimpering as tears pooled in your eyes.
early in the morning, barely woken up from your sleep, and you feel close to your first orgasm already. This is what you get when you date Choi Seungcheol. You reach your hands towards your panties to touch yourself, but Seungcheol holds back your wrists, "patience, baby. i am going to make you come untouched on my dick."
Seungcheol pulled out momentarily, positioning your hips higher so that your ass was up in the air, and stood on his knees behind you and pulled your underwear down to your thighs, a rope of sticky slick trail connected to your pussy. he slid his cock back into you, gripping your ass as he rammed in you with an increased pace, his cock head hitting your sweet spot everytime.
your eyes rolled back as you felt him in your throat. you clenched around his length feeling your orgasm coming closer and closer, until you came around his length, untouched as he promised, whimpering his name.
he kept fucking you through your release, and you knew he was close too by the way his grip tightened on your cheeks. "fuck," he muttered before dropping his torso over your back, hugging your waist, and removing his dick just in time to cum over your thighs.
both of you fell on the bed, breathing heavily. Seungcheol pulled you closer, kissing you softly. you giggle against his lips as he pulls you closer and cuddles you up, his arms and legs wrapped around your body, imprisoning you in his embrace. "Welcome home, cheollie."
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scribbledghost · 6 months
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Simon having sex with reader on the Thanksgiving dinner table? Maybe he comes home from work really late to a table full of food and reader looking pretty as ever, and he decides to show his gratitude.🥴😏
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Welcome Home
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader (no y/n)
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 2,009
Warnings: oral (F receiving), table sex, dirty talk, praise, use of "good girl", tongue clicks from Simon
Note: Everyone say "Thank you @sillylittlereader " for fueling my feral Scribs-brained behavior (Also everyone say "thank you anon" bc that addition made me literally lol). Gonna combine these two cause I caaaaaan. Happy Wanksgiving all! Hopefully yall enjoy my first attempt at full smut after many, many moons.
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As soon as Simon opens the front door and steps inside, he knows he's in for a good evening.
The smell of food hits him immediately, the house warmer than usual from where you'd been cooking. He discards his boots and follows the scent into the kitchen, where he finds you milling about and putting another dish onto the counter. It joins several others, and he's quick to notice at least a couple of his favorites.
"Now what's all this?" He says with a grin. You look back at him with a matching look.
"Dinner," you say simply. "I know doing day work and training on-base isn't your favorite, so I figured I'd make a nice, big meal for you. Everything's on the counter, table's cleaned off, so all you have to do is make your plate and eat."
A warm feeling constricts Simon's chest, and he finds himself unable to resist striding towards you and pulling you in for a kiss.
And another.
And another.
As he parts from you, hands on your hips as you look at him with a lidded gaze, he realizes there's one thing he wants before he enjoys the work you've put into welcoming him home.
"I know it's technically bad form, love," he rumbles, guiding you by the hips back towards the table, "but maybe you could let me have dessert first, yeah?"
"Oh, I suppose I can allow it. Just this once," you reply with a sly grin that he matches.
With that, he hefts you up onto the table and takes a seat between your legs. 
He wastes little time lifting your shirt just enough to press a few hot, open-mouthed kisses to your stomach. From there, he helps you quickly divest yourself of your pants and underwear, grabbing both and helping you lift yourself from the table just long enough for him to pull both off in one fluid motion. 
When the garments land on the floor, Simon hooks his arms beneath your legs, pulls you closer to him, and buries his face in you.
If there is one thing Simon does well when he's not in the field, it's eating. He devours you like a man starved, like he'll never get another chance to taste you. He dips his tongue into you before sliding it up to your clit, kissing and sucking and lapping at you in a practiced manner he knows works. As much as he knows he should give you a few of his fingers to help stretch you open for what is to come, he can't help but forgo the courtesy, too invested in tasting your slick to waste any.
"Taste so fucking good, baby," he moans, "can't get enough of this cunt. Never get enough of you."
He's telling the truth. He could spend hours with his head buried between your thighs. In fact, he has before. He wonders if you'll be so kind as to let him do it again tomorrow morning; have him wake you with his tongue and continue like that until you start pushing him away.
But that's a thought for later. For now, he's got much more important matters to attend to.
He feels your hand grab his hair, a low groan tearing from his lungs as you pull him deeper into you. The hands on your skin tighten their grip, his brows knit together in concentration.
"That's it love," he says, voice muffled by your cunt, "take what you want from me."
Your hips buck against him and he follows, cock hard and twitching in his pants as you moan for him. He knows you're close by the way your thighs shake in his grasp, and he's determined to all but drag you over the edge.
Your breathing gets shallower, interspersed with staccato moans and whines. You breathe his name into the air, and Simon growls against your heat.
"That's it love," he encourages again, "be good and cum for me, yeah?"
With that, he returns to his task at hand, laser-focused on getting what he wants.
And what he wants is for you to smother him. What he wants is for you to envelop him, make it so nothing else so much as touches any of his senses.
He wants - no, needs - to make you feel good. To help you fall from the precipice and lose yourself to what he's giving you.
And fall you do.
With a sharp cry of his name, he feels your sex clench and twitch against his mouth as you come undone beneath him. He helps you through it, moaning soft, affirmative "mhm"s as you ride your orgasm to its end.
When you slump against him, muscles finally relaxing, he gives you one last lick with the flat of his tongue before moving to kiss your thighs.
"Good girl," he says softly, "so, so good for me."
He begins a slow ascent, nudging his nose against the hem of your shirt and pushing it upwards so he can mouth at the skin just beneath it.
After pressing a few more kisses to your abdomen and stomach, he stands, removing his shirt and using it to somewhat dry his face before discarding it. 
"Look so fuckin' pretty when you cum," he says as he leans in to kiss you properly. "Never gonna get tired of watchin' you."
Simon's hips rut against you as his tongue dips into your mouth, a light hum leaving him as he hears you whine softly.
"I know, baby," he murmurs apologetically against your lips, "I know you're still sensitive. Jus' can't help it, yeah? Wanna make sure you're nice and wet before I take you."
It's an excuse, and both of you know it. Simon knows you're plenty ready for him, especially after one orgasm, but he's allowing himself to be selfish. To give himself a taste of you before he devours you again in another way. In the depths of his brain, he wonders if some of your slick will coat his belt. Wonders if it will dry there, where he will carry it with him the next time he wears it to base. An invisible mark of ownership.
He could keep going, keep grinding against you until he comes undone without ever even removing his own pants.
But that simply will not do. Not for Simon. And after you whine again against his mouth, the overstimulation on your clit no doubt bordering on painful, he gives you mercy.
At least, that's what he tells himself as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, pushing them just far down enough with his briefs to release his cock from its confines.
"See what you do to me, love?" he says lowly as he slides gently against your heat, coating himself in a mix of your spend and his precum. 
Then, deciding he's had enough teasing for one afternoon, Simon begins the slow push into you.
He's not a small man, and he knows it. Saying so doesn't come from a place of inflated ego, but rather from real, practical experience, both with you and past lovers. He guides himself into you as gently as he's able, not wanting the pressure he knows you must feel to turn into pain.
But then, as his hips are about halfway to you, he notices something.
You've closed your eyes.
And, again, that simply will not do.
"Hey. Hey," he says gruffly before he clicks his tongue twice at you, "eyes open, love. Want you to look at me while I stuff you full."
You give him a bleary look, eyelids just barely obeying his command as he continues to push deeper into you. 
The pair of you erupt in joint moans when the front of his thighs meet your body. Simon leans forward to rest his forehead against yours as he catches his breath.
"Fuck, love, you feel so fucking good," he breathes into the space between you. 
"So do you," you answer in an equally breathless tone. 
Simon surges forward to kiss you, keeping his lips on yours as he begins to roll his hips. Your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you. 
As much as he wants to draw this out, as much as he wants to start slowly and build up until you're both tense and begging for release, he simply can't find it in himself to wait any longer. His hips seem to move of their own accord, snapping into you and punching moans from your lungs. 
When he pulls back for a moment to stand and watch your body, he notices that your eyes are once again closed as you're lost to the pleasure he's giving you.
"Show me those pretty eyes, love," he says softly. When you only whine in response, he reluctantly stills his thrusts.
"Hey, eyes on me," he says more harshly, once again clicking his tongue at you. "You open those eyes and look at me."
You slowly obey, and he feels you clench around him when he clicks his tongue. When he's satisfied that you're watching, he begins his thrusts again.
"There she is," he says breathlessly with a grin. "There's my girl."
He holds your gaze as he continues, fucking into you at an increasing pace. He is enraptured by you. By your voice, by your body, by your gaze. He chases his high, but quickly realizes there's something important that he's forgotten.
"Reach down and touch yourself for me, love," he commands. "Want you to give me one more before I fill you."
To your credit, you do as he asks, reaching a hand down to rub at your clit as he continues to thrust into you. The action catapults Simon impossibly closer to his peak, though by some grace he manages to hold himself together as you chase another orgasm.
It doesn't take as long as Simon assumes it will for you to come again. Or perhaps it does. Time has long since become an abstract concept to Simon, just as it always does when he's inside of you like this. Nevertheless, he feels your walls flutter around him as you sigh his name.
"Good girl," he croons to you as you come, "good girl."
Once you come down, he throws his self-restraint to the wind and surges towards his own orgasm in earnest. 
"Gonna cum, love," he says, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours again. "Gonna fill you up, make you mine."
You don't respond in words, but he feels a hand grab the back of his head as you pull his lips to yours. 
A groan rips through his body as Simon comes, stilling inside of you as his cock twitches. He moans out some approximation of your name against your lips as he loses himself.
An indeterminate amount of time later, when the two of you part and begin to catch your breath, you lock eyes.
And you both laugh.
A light, beautiful sound.
"Well, can't say I was expecting that," you say.
"Had to thank you somehow, love," he quips. 
He helps you to sit up, tucking himself back into his pants as he leaves his shirt on the floor and his belt unbuckled. He aids you in putting your pants and underwear back on, softly promising to help you shower after you both eat.
"After all," he says as he kisses you, "it'd be a tragedy to let all this food get any colder than it is already."
You laugh softly at him.
"And whose fault would that be, Mr. Riley?"
"Yours," he says with a teasing nip to your shoulder, "not my fault you looked good enough to eat."
The soft, good-natured groan you give him as you lightly shove him from you warms his heart. On the field, he prides himself on being cold, calculated, and for leaving little room for anything else. But here, in his home, with you by his side, he feels like the battlefield is a thousand years away.
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skelly-words · 3 months
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Pt 2. of Bring Your Tentacle to Work Day
Okay, here you go… same tags as before + some girl-on-girl
Part 3
NSFW, no minors 18+, no children, go away
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You don't expect this, your coworker's shyness quickly melts away. Replaced by curiosity as she watches cum drip out of you, obscenely splattering on the floor and dribbling down your legs in thin blue ribbons.
"Where do I get one of those?" She points a shaky finger at your cunt, at the thin tentacle that takes forever to slide out of you.
A low whine leaves your throat as your pussy squeezes around the suckers. they are dragged along your sensitive insides until you're left completely empty. Satisfied with itself, the tentacle begins to wind comfortably around your hip and thigh.
You turn around, avoiding her sparkling eyes as they greedily take you in.
"Um, i-it's work issued. For productivity," you say softly, still looking at the floor. Her shoes shuffle towards you to make the tight stall seem even smaller.
She softly strokes your cheek, trailing a less innocent hand under your skirt to feel at the monster wrapped around your thigh.
"Can you use it on me?" You can feel her hot breath against your face as she leans closer. Her touches are so gentle, waiting for you to guide her, teach her.
You look up at her between damp lashes, her pretty blushing lips are pouting until you say, yes, and start to kiss her. It quickly turns to a messy makeout as your hands crawl up her skirt. She moans into your mouth as her black panties come down around her stilettos.
You can feel how wet her pussy is as she grinds against your thigh, leaving stickiness glossing your skin. The tentacle smells her arousal and loosens on your thigh, shifting and readjusting to bump her clit better.
She pulls away from your lips with a pop as the blue appendage skims up the curve of her ass. She looks at you, a lewd look of excitement flashing across her features as you hear the tentacle pop into her butt. She pants, heavier and quicker than before and clings to your hips for support.
"What? Is it too much?" You tease.
Her hands tighten on you as the thing starts to figure out how to make her squirm. She hides her soft noises in your neck with her drool pooling in the dips of your collar bones. You begin to undo her blouse. The black buttons come undone, one after the other.
She can't let you go, so the silk hangs around her elbows. Her cute little moans and the slick sound of the tentacle filling her up are making your pussy start to throb again.
She gets too loud as you play with her nipples. Your cool touch is torture on the brown buds, stiffening as you roll them back and forth between your fingers. Her perky tits get pinker as you pinch at them and her moans pitch higher. You can feel yourself getting warmer too, abandoning one of her breasts to roll a palm against your cunny.
She's on her knees as soon as your hand drops, pushing your arm and panties aside to nose at your clit. Now you're the one being too loud, whimpering into your clean hand as she shoves her tongue into you.
"I'll cum soon-," she gasps against you, cut off as you try to catch up, hand tangled in her hair to press her closer. She looks up at you, eyes going in and out of focus. The brown fabric of her skirt is bunched around her waist. You can't see the tentacle except for the bulge in her tummy as it fills her up. Two fingers begin to stretch you open. You're so easy to push into, so she forces them as deep as she can reach. She knows what to do when your breath comes faster, latching her perfect lips around your clit as she milks your g-spot.
"Please." It almost hurts, but you're so close to orgasm that you can't seem to care. "I can't squirt again."
Her nods tug at your clit and her fingers are insistent. The digits fuck your pussy into a creamy mess. A third slipping into you makes your thighs start to shake. You cry out as you cum, gushing down her lips and chin as she sucks you through it.
A single tear traces down her cheek, falling into the crease of your thigh. "It's not letting me cum." She leans back to show you her twitching cunt. The tentacle has stilled in her stuffed pussy, leaving her needy and begging.
"That's because it's mine, baby. You'd need to get your own for it to do that." You laugh softly and start to pull your pet out of her. A parting kiss on her puffy lips leaves your mouth wet from her juices.
You straighten your clothes and clean up before leaving the bathroom, fixing any smudged makeup as you hear her desperately trying to cum in the back stall.
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Those who asked to be tagged- @mishaglass @gummie-soup + the anon ask
I saw someone comment about eggs on the last part and it kinda had me thinking... I have like no time to write anymore but drop me some inspiration anyway
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finelinevogue · 11 months
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baby fever
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summary - it’s wembley night one and you are really warm and pregnant
word count: ~1k
pairing: husband!harry x pregnant!reader
a/n: you can count on an anxious ellie the night before her harry concert to pull through with a blurb
Backstage was chaos.
A good chaos though. The night of a show is always so hectic backstage. A good buzz of people rushing for final checks and enjoying a drink in efforts of their hard work putting the show together.
Mitch was tending to Sarah and their baby.
Madi was vocally preparing for her big moment.
Jeff was here, on the phone as always.
Harry was nowhere to be seen.
And you. Well you couldn’t move far with the size of your baby bump anymore.
Not only was the baby bump heavy to carry, but also made your body ten times warmer than normal. In this heat too, it was not a fun experience.
If you knew where Harry was right now you’d thump him on the head for knocking you up. How dare he.
This was all jokes though and you actually have thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant. Getting tended to and loved on a little extra from Harry made everything worth it. It was no lie that you and Harry were excited. You just had to make it through these tough days first.
Harry had left you in his dressing room, surrounded by fans to help cool you down.
However, he’s been gone for an hour now and the fans aren’t doing anything to help your body temperature cool. Being pregnant in this heat is disgusting.
So, after a good ten minutes manoeuvring, you moved to the bathroom instead, where the tiles were cold.
Now you’re laying on your back, like a starfish, as you attempt to cool yourself down better with the cold tiles.
You’d think this stadium would have air-con…
The tiles weren’t really working either, but they were better than the fans.
“Babe?!” Harry called out from the dressing room, most likely worried for your whereabouts.
He walked in the bathroom moments later, his panicked face slowly disappearing after finding you. He leant against the doorframe on one arm and crossed his legs over as he stood smiling over you.
“Don’t laugh.” You said, eyes closed to try and focus on coming your body down.
Your eyes closed meant that you missed Harry taking a quick photo of you to add to his pregnancy photo album of you.
“I’m not.” He replied.
“You’re definitely smiling. I can feel it.” You said and Harry laughed at that, making his tiny giggle that had your insides fluttering.
“Shut up you.” Harry giggled. “Are you okay down there, baby?” He asked to make sure.
Next thing you know, before you’ve even replied, Harry is knelt down next to you in his shorts and tshirt. One of his hands rests on your belly, whilst your other goes to brush over your forehead.
“Don’t touch me.” You said, eyes still closed to the world.
“That’s something I don’t hear very often.”
“Yeah and it’s also the reason I’m in this predicament right now.”
Harry can sense you rolling your eyes even with them shut.
“I’m sorry, babe.”
“Control the weather better next time.” You replied, making him laugh again.
“Do you want to move or get some water?”
“No and no.”
“Please? At least some water? For me?” He persisted and even though you really didn’t want to move, you knew he was right in making you have some water.
Harry doesn’t really give you the option and instead moves to fetch a water bottle for you.
When he brings it back, you sit up a little with the help of Harry. Harry tilts the bottle for you, as you hold you body up by your hands.
Once you’ve done, Harry sits his back against the wall and motions for you to sit on the opposite side. He would really love for you to be cuddled up against him right now, but he knows that wouldn’t be the best idea for you or your baby.
Now he can see your eyes, he is much happier. Your eyes show him that you’re still happy, regardless of this horrible weather. That sparkle in your eyes is there because of him.
“Thank you.” You tell him, for the water. “Feel like a sausage on a barbecue.”
“A sexy sausage.”
You huff out a chuckle, “I’m too exhausted to even be grossed out by that.”
“Well that just confirms that you’re not 100% yourself, lovie.” Harry laughed.
“I apologise in advance if I can’t make it out for your set, H.” You pout and Harry shakes his head at you.
“Absolutely not. No apologies. I want you and baby safe, okay? You go at your own pace.”
“Might make it in time just to go crazy at Kiwi.”
“So, you mean just nodding your head?” Harry teased you because he knows you really can’t move very much with the big baby bump.
“Maybe even tap my foot.” You carried on the joke.
“Oh jheez babe. Don’t overdo it.”
You smile and Harry copies you.
“I love you. I’m so fucking proud of you.” You tell him.
“It’s funny how I’m about to play a sold out stadium and yet I’m more proud of myself for finding you and becoming a parent with you.”
You hum in delight over his words.
Harry chuckled, moving forward to bend and kiss your bump gently, “I love you baby.” He says as he leans up and finds your lips next, “And I guess you’re okay too.”
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