#andie's writing

[andypantsx3]

contents: general bakugou x princess reader; fem + afab virgin reader. nsft; oral (f receiving) & missionary. semi-sequel to this drabble. 3.2k.

Your wedding day arrives far earlier than you are prepared for.

It’s a tense affair, for you at least. The country depends on it, and you feel the scheming eyes of the nobility hot on your skin as you pronounce your vows to Bakugou. They will not take kindly to your having chosen him over their sons and brothers, over their own desire to rise to power. There will be a price they will want you to pay, soon enough.

The chapel is resplendent with sumptuous decor, the court in their finest. But the room is fringed with Bakugou’s men in their military leathers, a reminder that this is not a happy day, but rather a dangerous political stunt. It keeps the noble houses docile while they are in the room with you, but you know they will return to their estates and their plans. 

Your fate is in Bakugou’s hands, now, in more ways than one.

The ceremony is dizzying, and impossible to wrap your head around. The preceptor pronounces Bakugou your prince-consort, ostensibly to remain so while you assume the throne after your father’s passing. You will continue to rule him as his sovereign. But your vows to Bakugou also promise him your obedience as his wife. 

It is a contradiction, an impossible trap, the very reason why the general is the only man you could stomach the thought of marrying. If a husband is to rule you after all, Bakugou will do so justly. 

The thought does not stifle your nerves, however, as you make your way back down the aisle, sit down to the reception, and take your meal. A disquieting, anticipatory feeling settles over you, fizzing under your skin. You barely pick at your dinner, and drink too much of the wine.

You can tell Bakugou notices, scarlet gaze ever-perceptive, though he does not say anything until you are shepherded to the bridal suite to consummate.

Various aides try to follow you in to prepare you, but Bakugou slams the door closed on them, propping it shut with one broad shoulder. He barks at them to scram.

“Lord General—that is, Your Highness,” one of them stutters through the door. “We are required to witness the consummation—to verify that it is complete.”

A bolt of shame goes through you at this, and you catch hold of one of the intricately-carved wooden bed pillars. Bakugou grunts, holding the door closed with one palm while spinning to the nearby dressing table and chair. He grabs the chair, wedging it forcefully up under the door handle.

“You’ll be sure of consummation when I’m done here,” he growls through the door. “Don’t need you little fucking perverts making eyes the whole damn time. Now beat it.”

A weird sound escapes you, something between a gasp and a laugh—at his promise, at his gruffness.

“Your Highness,” comes a plaintive entreaty through the door. Bakugou slams a fist against it, and you hear a squeal and a sound like someone’s fallen over their feet.

An absurd laugh seizes you, and Bakugou eyes you pettishly.

“The fuck’re you laughing about,” he says, but there’s no heat in it.

Your fingers twist on the bedpost, nervously tracing the lines. “You’re taking to your new post well.”

Bakugou’s features twist into something dangerously satisfied, a smirk painting his mouth. Your breath comes short.

“My post,” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “As your husband.”

Your stomach swoops. The disquiet flames back to life under your skin, settling heavy in your gut like a stone. 

“I supposed it is a post like any other,” you say, fixing your gaze on the ground. “There are responsibilities and… marital duties.”

You hear the soft tread of Bakugou’s boot as he steps away from the door, the rustle of his doublet as he draws closer. His many medals and ceremonial sword belt clink softly. It is a fashion you know he does not prefer, always living in his shirtsleeves—the better to fight in, to train in.

A calloused hand takes your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You nervous, Princess?” he asks. His tone is obnoxious, as usual, but his crimson gaze traces your face.

You barely suppress a shiver under his touch. Your stomach churns with a thousand emotions and you find you don’t know how to feel. Relieved that you’ve made it this far. Annoyed with Bakugou’s composure and general manner. Apprehensive about what is to come. And warm, suddenly, all over. You do not want to examine why.

“Nonsense,” you sniff. 

A feral smile curls the corner of Bakugou’s mouth like he sees right through you. “You’ve never been with a man.”

Your face burns but you force yourself to return Bakugou’s assessing stare. “I’ve never been to Musutafu, either, but I know it well enough. I should think I am… prepared.”

Something hot alights in Bakugou’s gaze, burning like a coal. It’s not unlike how he looked at you that night in the dark outside his chambers, when you’d first come to him with this wild proposal.

“And what do you think you know,” he says, flatter than a question.

Your nose grows hot. “Enough.”

A thumb slides along your jaw, settling against the pulse in your neck. “Answer the question, angel.”

Your face just might be on fire. You steel yourself, reciting dispassionately. “You will undress me and then… enter me. I shall lie still—they say you can breathe through the pain and it will go away after some time. You will… work yourself to completion. And then we shall be done.”

A snort comes from Bakugou. “Is that how you royal tightasses do it?”

You feel your eyes narrow. “That is how everyone does it.”

Your ladies in waiting had been very emphatic. All of them had spoken of the same mechanics. The initial discomfort, the pain, the way a husband moved upon his wife until he was satisfied.

“You don’t know shit, Princess,” Bakugou says.

You reach up to pull his hand from your face, but he tenses, arm growing solid and immovable. 

“Explains why all you nobles are such fucking tight-buttoned pricks if that’s how you’re doing it.”

Your reply is startled out of you when his hand finds your waist. You take a step back, and then another, startling again when your back finds the wall. Bakugou follows you, eyes hot.

“You are insufferable,” you inform him hotly. “I am sure of the matter.”

“You’re always sure of a lot of things, Princess,” he says. His hand is back at your waist, and suddenly all your skin feels too hot and tight, stifling like a velvet dress in summer.

“I am sure you are the most obnoxious man on earth,” you say. “Now be quiet and commence with it. Let’s have done with it.”

Bakugou’s face is suddenly closer than you’d remembered it being.

“I’ll have done with you alright,” he says. “But I’m not gonna do it like you little uppity prudes.”

You find you can’t think of what he means, all of your thoughts clouded with his proximity, the feeling of his hand moving to your skirts.

“I—but there is only the one way,” you manage. None of your ladies had mentioned anything else.

Bakugou’s mouth cuts into a smirk again, and you hate him for how pretty it is. 

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that,” he says.

And then his mouth is pressed to yours. 

It’s nothing like the stilted peck you’d been obliged to give him at the ceremony—one that still left your face burning, for some unknowable reason. This feels entirely different in its intensity. Bakugou’s mouth is hot and soft and tempting and eager, and your body thrills with it.

Every inch of your skin feels like it zings with lightning when he licks into your mouth, and he presses you harder into the wall. You feel his groan all the way down to your toes.

“B–akugou,” you pant when his mouth leaves yours, only to stifle a yip when he moves down to your throat. He sucks a mark there, laving over it with his tongue, and you feel like you're melting in his hands. “That’s—not my—ah!—mouth,” you manage.

The tiniest scrape of teeth has you yelping again, and you find yourself clutching his bicep for purchase.

“No shit,” he says, leaving another mark lower, mapping his way towards your chest. Calloused fingers come up to cup one of your breasts, thumb swiping over your nipple through your stays. You catch hold of his hair, yanking a fistful of that flaxen blonde, clenching your thighs together.

“What are you doing?” you hiss. 

Bakugou looks up at you, expression annoyed. “Consummating.”

“But you’re not undressing me,” you say. “And shouldn’t we—on the bed?

Bakugou raises a blonde eyebrow. “They tell you it needs to be on a bed, too?”

You blink, momentarily disarmed. It was quite literally called sharing the marriage bed—where else were you supposed to do it?

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same thing?” you eventually ask him.

Both of Bakugou’s eyebrows shoot for the moon, and he looks very suddenly like he wants to laugh. A grin yanks at his mouth, sharp and beautiful.

“I knew you’d be a fucking handful,” he says, his tone somehow both annoyed and delighted. “Don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about and you’re still trying to give me orders.”

You yank at the fistful of his hair you’re still clutching and he hisses, hand shooting out to grab yours. He works your grip off of him, pinning your wrist to the wall. The air in the room suddenly feels a hundred times thicker, like trying to breathe through honey.

“Listen closely, Princess,” he tells you, leaning in. “We're going to consummate, alright. But I’m not just gonna squeeze my eyes shut and stick it in. I’m going to do what I want first, and you’re going to be good and let me.”

Your face ignites in flame. You want to disagree reflexively. “If it’s going to be painful I’d rather just have it over with, if you don’t mind,” you say.

Bakugou stares back, scarlet gaze roving over you. “It’s not gonna be if you shut up and let me do what I want.”

You blink. You hadn’t heard that there was a way around the pain—why hadn’t anyone told you?

“I—really?” you ask.

Bakugou nods. “Really.”

“Oh,” you say. “Well then… you may proceed, I suppose.”

“You suppose,” he echoes, staring you down. The look on his face makes you want to lean forward and bite it off.

“Well get on with it,” you say, arching your eyebrows.

Bakugou looks for a moment like he wants to shake you. But he ducks his head instead, lowering his mouth to yours again.

“Gonna fuck that bossiness right out of you,” he mutters, low like he’s promising himself and not you. But then he kisses you again, muffling your gasp in his mouth.

You’ve never kissed another man, and do not have a frame of reference for what he’s doing. But Bakugou is a good kisser, you think. Every flick of his tongue feels like someone has uncorked champagne and poured it beneath your skin, and every brush of his mouth against yours sends a liquid heat racing through your veins.

You moan into his mouth when calloused fingers delve beneath the collar of your gown, dipping into your stays and pinching a nipple. He rolls it carefully, and you arch against him without any say-so from your brain. 

“Been thinking about this, Princess,” he says. “Ever since I saw you in that little nightdress. Gonna show you what it really means to be with a man.”

You’re excused from answering by his mouth back on yours. Not that you think you could, with the way his fingers feel in the cups of your stays, or the press of a strong thigh between your own.

“Bakugou,” you gasp when he peels off of you, only to sink to his knees before you.

“It’s Katsuki,” he says, busying himself with the hem of your skirts. 

“B–Katsuki,” you say. “What are you doing?”

Long fingers roll up the hemline of your dress, then yank at your underthings, exposing you to him. You gasp again, moving to cover yourself, but Bakugou pins you to the wall with an arm across your stomach, catching your thigh and pulling it over his shoulder.

“Husbandly duties,” he replies, another smirk on his mouth.

And then your head thunks against the wall as that mouth moves, pressing to you.

“Katsuki!” you shout, biting off into an embarrassing moan when he laves over you. No one had told you about this part—about how a man’s mouth there would make you feel like fireworks had just been lit off in your veins. About how a man’s mouth could even go there at all.

Bakugou doesn’t reply, kissing you there as he had your lips. A delicate suck from him over the cleft of you has you arching in his hands again, and you can quite literally feel him smirking against you.

He works you thoroughly, licking and sucking for what feels like torturous hours, but must only be minutes, until you’re a writhing, panting mess, only held upright by the arm he has banded across your lower stomach. There’s a pressure rising within you, pooling in all your limbs, making you shake and shiver with it, and what feels like no way to release it.

“Katsuki—I feel strange,” you say, bucking against his mouth. “Oh—oh!”

“Just hold on, sweetheart, and let yourself feel it,” Katsuki tells you, before licking back over you. A finger presses up inside of you, foreign but strangely good in conjunction with his mouth. Then another one presses in and they curl as if seeking something, making you twist in his grip.

And then something makes you jerk—the press of Katsuki’s fingers inside you in just the right spot, while he sucks on you, feeling like he’s touching the same place inside of you from both sides.

Something inside you snaps, uncoiling, pleasure flooding down you like a mudslide. You cry out Bakugou’s name, tears in your vision, riding out your pleasure against his mouth. Bakugou licks you through it, groaning low in his throat with appreciation.

“That’s it, Princess,” he says, tone rough. “Now you’re ready for consummation.”

You hear his words as if through a haze, and it’s only once you’re moving—being picked up and carried over to the bed—that you register what he’s saying.

He frees himself from his breeches, and stretches out over you, kissing your mouth. You’re embarrassed to taste yourself on him, but the press of him to you overrides that concern. In one smooth stroke he presses in, and you are shocked to find that he slides home easily, your core slick and ready.

It feels strange, but not at all unpleasant—absolutely nothing like what they’d told you.

“You alright, Princess?” Bakugou asks.

“I—yes,” you say, voice fluttering off when he flexes his hips, moving inside of you. The slide of him inside of you is unexpectedly good, especially when he lowers a hand to your core, pressing a thumb to that bundle of nerves at the hood of you.

“Feel good?” he asks, his eyes hot on your face. You cling to him, hips lifting into him unthinkingly as his thumb pets over you again, as he presses in and out of you a few more times.

You nod, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

He grins anyway, feral and fever-bright. His pace picks up into something faster, and you’re embarrassed to hear the slap of him against you, the eager way your body welcomes him in.

The band of pressure builds up inside you again, slowly, with every sure stroke of Bakugou inside you. He’s hot and hard and heavy over you, pressing you into the mattress, and the tops of his cheeks are flush with effort—the way he looks sometimes when he’s just come in from the training pitch.

He’s beautiful—handsome and strong and hot-headed and determined. And it dawns on you that he’s yours now—not just your subject but your husband, your prince consort, and now your lover.

It makes all your skin turn molten hot again, especially when you look down and see your knees have rucked his shirt up. You can see the flex of his abs as he thrusts between your thighs, all that golden skin and dense muscle.

The slide of him inside you and the sight of him over you is suddenly too much, and you feel yourself tip right over the edge again. Bakugou catches your hand as you lift it to muffle your cry, kissing over your knuckles.

“That’s it, Princess, that’s it,” he says again, ducking his head to kiss you.

You moan into his mouth as he fucks you through it, and he groans with the clench of you.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he says against your lips, pace picking up faster. “Knew you would, sweetheart, yeah.”

Embarrassingly you feel almost like you could come apart again with the praise. Bakugou groans once more, and you can hear his grip tighten in the blanket next to your head. His hips buck and flex, wildly uncontrolled now, until he gives one final hard thrust.

His weight pins you down when he relaxes over you, his breath tickling over your shoulder. You find you like the weight of him on you, covering you, like a shield against the rest of the world.

Apt, for a general.

“Better than how you wanted to do it, wasn’t it, Princess?” he asks, smug.

You scoff, but you catch the flash of a white grin in the corner of your vision. There is really no question that he’d had the better of it, this time.

“Knew you’d see it my way,” he says.

Over him, you can hear the flutter of feet outside the door, some muffled discussion. Heat rises to your face when you realize the castle aids most definitely heard you cry out under Bakugou’s ministrations. There will be no doubt of your consummation now, regardless of whether you were observed.

“Nosy fuckin’ perverts,” Bakugou says, rolling off of you. You catch another flicker of his chest with the way his shirt gapes, and he looks doubly smug when he notices.

“Not done yet, angel?” he says.

“I am, thank you.” You flush, embarrassed at having been caught. But Bakugou stretches an arm out to yank you over him, pressing you down over his hips.

Your stomach flutters.

“Give me a couple more minutes, Princess,” Bakugou says, scarlet eyes flashing with heat once more. His hand raises to trail through your hair, catching in the wedding hairstyle they’d pinned you into. 

“Five more minutes,” your new husband promises you, with a grin like the devil. “And then we'll give them something to really listen to.”

[weallpartyatybcpatricksfuneral]

tttyg era where vampire pete finds ybcpatrick and takes him home. sees a fucked up kid and goes. hm you're mine now:) sing in my emo band boy

[kidovna]

from this fic by @andiwriteordie

[fandomfloozy]

nsfw mdni

watching jason todd work on his motorcycle be like...

jason: what?

y/n: just lookin'

jason: you look like you got something to say

y/n: [shakes head] mm-mm

jason: you sure?

y/n: ...well...

jason: tell me

y/n: mmmm... no, it's too embarrassing

jason: pfft. you? embarrassed?

y/n: perish the thought

jason: so lay it on me

y/n: oh, i'll lay something on you

jason: babe...

y/n: jaybird, i don't mean to be crass but--

jason: sweetheart, just spit it out--

y/n: i wanna suck your dick so bad

jason: ...

jason: /////// jesus christ...

~°•*~

A/N: something about a man all greased up and sweaty while working on machinery uwu

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

blushing birthday

a/n: iihhh! first story in this slutty au! felt like this was a good place to jump off from. and also, i just wanna point this out because i nearly never do and perhaps some people don’t realise it, but if you have a thought, an idea, a wish or request in this au (or any other, my inbox is always open for requests) then feel free to click on my ask button and send it my way ♡

summary: “so, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, smut, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, dilf neighbour!andy barber, reader's porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes, curtis’ birthday, partying, alcohol consumption, kissing, masturbation, impact play, fingering, toys, edging, clothed sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 3953

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

The last rays of sunshine for the day streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and cast soft shadows across your form as you sat cross-legged on your mattress. 

With your reach outstretched towards your laptop propped up on the chair situated at the foot of your bed, you clicked on the go live button and watched as a countdown appeared on the screen, overlaying your visage staring back at you as your gaze briefly flickered around to check your gear one last time. 

Thanks to your three roommates who’d insisted on helping you upgrade your setup, there wasn’t just one, but two cameras pointing directly at you. One angle to catch all of your frame and one zoomed-in to capture a perfect close-up between your legs. 

“Hey guys!” a warm smile swiftly dazzled your features as you watched the first few people jump at your notification, “good evening or good–, whatever time of day it is for you.” 

The messages in the chat started rolling in, some with usernames you recognised and some you didn’t. 

TheFrogo: Hi Cherry! How are you? Have you had a good day so far?

DrownByPussy: Omg you’re finally live! I’ve been hard all day knowing I’d get to see you today.

“Hi Frogo, yeah, I’ve had a pretty good day, but I’m hoping that it might get even better, because I’ve got something pretty fun planned for tonight,” your hands absentmindedly fidgeted along the length of your legs as you spoke, “so, today is a friend of mine’s birthday and–, wait,” you paused and leaned in closer to catch a better look of the scrolling messages, “I haven’t seen you write in the chat yet, but birthday boy, if you’re here, you better log off right now or you’ll ruin your surprise,” you warned, glancing straight into the camera, “I’ll give you five seconds get off,” a pointer finger then kissed each of your digits as you counted down, “five… four… three… two… one,” you squinted a moment longer before a giggle bubbled out, “okay, so now that it’s just us, I can tell you what I’ve got planned,” you switched up your seat, moving your legs to comfortably kneel on the mattress with your frame slightly turned at an angle for you to better see the screen, but retroactively grant everyone a view of the curve of your spine as the line swooped down over your waist and blossomed into the plush of your ass, sinfully on display in the pastel blue, mesh lingerie you wore, “there is one thing in particular that he has just been begging for… any guesses?”

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Hmm… is it a particular fantasy? A little bit of roleplay action? 

8inchStallion: Threesome? 

“Nope. All fun suggestions, but no.”

TittyCokeKingXXX: Is it to bang in public?

Cream314159: How about anal? 

“Cream! Yes! You guessed it!” you excitedly threw your hands up in the air, “it is anal that he’s been dreaming about.”

Ddadddy6969: I mean, who can blame him.

ItsBradBtch: Fucking same.

TearinYoBootyUp: Wish it was my birthday today so you’d let me fuck your tight little ass.

“So, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

KyleKyleson: Yes!

UrPervyDaddy398: Hell yeah, let’s get you ready to take that monster cock.

Casting a glance out of the nearby window, your eye couldn’t help but catch sight of the neighbouring house. It didn’t look like the divorced dad who resided there was home, though you still nevertheless searched for him. You weren’t completely clueless to his infatuation with you, though it had almost turned into a game, always trying to catch him peeping at you through the windows, or even taking it further by purposely wearing something skimpy when you’d go get the mail or other activities where you would know you’d bump into him. You didn’t judge him to be the type of man to ever really do anything about it, to actually reach out and grasp a wet dream of a girl so much his junior, but the teasing had become too much fun for you to stop, you were too far gone to draw the curtains closed now. 

As a quiet jingle sounded from your speakers, indicating that someone had tipped you, your gaze flickered back towards the computer screen. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Is that the underwear set I bought you off your wishlist? You look even more gorgeous in it than I imagined.

“Oh, thanks A,” you let your palms graze down over the thin mesh, feeling your pussy clench as your touch brushed over your nipples poking through the baby blue material, “yeah, it is. It matches the dress I’m planning on wearing tonight, so I thought I’d be cute.”

Call_Me_Sir_844: Turn around, Cherry. Let us see it from the back.  

“Yes, sir, of course,” you chuckled lightly before shifting around, purposely arching your back as you glanced over your shoulder. 

729AlwaysHard: How is your ass even real?

Like1OfUrFrenchGrls: Damn, that butt is just begging for a spanking.

Raking your touch down your sides, you smirked, “oh, you want me to spank my ass?” before the jingle of a tip echoed from the computer, “alright, baby,” and like a cat, your frame scooped down, gliding on to all fours and sticking your bottom high up in the air, “how many do you think? Let’s say, highest tipper gets to decide, but please, be kind, I still have to be able to dance the night away tonight.”

TittyCokeKingXXX tipped $50 – 10 spanks, with a paddle

BootyLover47 tipped $35 – 4 spanks

MrHansen tipped $100 – 6 spanks 

“Thank you guys,” you wiggled playfully for them, “and Mr. Hansen, wow, thank you so much!” you squeaked ecstatically, “well, I guess I better start counting then.” 

After each smack your palm landed on your propped-up bottom, the coinciding number rolled off your lips till your ass was tingling and sore for all your viewers to see. 

WinterIsCumming: Fuck, just seeing your little pussy through those panties… they’re soaked, aren’t they?

Gliding a hand down between your legs, your fingertips ghosted over the sheer fabric that clung to your core.

“They are, Winter,” you blinked up at the camera, “man, I wish you were here to give me a hand.”

NastyBoi: Show us that pretty little pussy, come on, don’t be shy now.

“You want me to take my underwear off for you? Take them off so that I can really play?”

And with the chimes of tips swiftly ringing in your ears, one of your fingers then hooked in the gusset and carefully peeled it to the side, letting it act as a frame as you momentarily teased them with just a glimpse of your glistening folds, before you slowly slid them off completely. 

Eventually, after your slick digits had gotten a chance to warm you up and tease you till you were practically buzzing on both of the camera angles that now displayed you, as it hadn’t taken you very long till you switched to a split screen, both your face frozen in a silent moan and your pretty holes drooling for attention pressed up against one another, side by side on the stream, your fingers then reached for a toy, the pretty glass dildo you had picked out just before the show.

You first popped the toy in your mouth as you flipped around and relaxed back against your pile of pillows. Letting your gaze flicker over the downright filthy comments rolling across the screen, you sucked on the toy for a bit before pulling it out and letting it float down south. 

“Fuck,” your eyes fluttered slightly as you rubbed the tip gently against your little rosebud, “oh, that feels so good.” 

Cream314159: Yeah, Cherry, tease that little ass like a good slut.

8inchStallion: Fuck, you’re gonna make me blow my load soon if you keep looking like that. 

Ddadddy6969: Has your fuck buddy really never had your ass before? Tbh kinda hard to believe considering what a whore you are for all of us. I love your anal shows, they’re always my favourite. 

“I know, daddy,” a light giggle tore through your form, “I’m honestly kinda surprised as well, but no, it hasn’t happened yet.” 

BongDong420: Wait, are you an anal virgin? Plot twist. 

“No, no, I’m not, I love anal,” you sucked in a gentle gasp as you let just the tip of the toy breach your tight opening, “I just haven’t really done it yet with too many different people. Actually, I’ve only done it with one so far, now that I think about it,” you swiftly shook your head and forced your eyes to flicker to the messages to rid your thoughts of your ex. 

Call_Me_Sir_844: Please open your mouth, I’m gonna cum!

“Oh, yes, please cum for me, sir,” you answered the comment and then let your lips part wide. As your tongue stuck out as well, a string of saliva soon dripped down as you waited, the spit colliding with your tits and running down your cleavage. 

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer tipped $550 – Don’t let yourself cum. Edge yourself so that you can be all drippy and dumb for him like a good little present should be. 

Since you and your roommates lived in a residential area too quiet for college ragers, some of the guys Steve and Bucky were on the football team with offered to throw the bash at their fraternity. 

Music blared, nearly making the entire house rumble, as you walked around the place, searching for the one of your roommates who the party was in honour of. 

Fiddling lightly with the hem of your silky dress as you peeked into the room where a rowdy game of beer pong was afoot, you still felt a little dizzy as desperation soaked through your ruined panties. 

Though, as you checked the kitchen, a bulky frame bumped into you, though it wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill frat boy, incapable of watching where they went, it was the very last person you wished to lay your eyes upon. 

“Y/n, hey,” the trust fund kid caught your arm before you could slip away. 

“Ransom,” you couldn’t help but clench your jaw as you tried to free yourself of his hold, “hello.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.” 

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” you nearly scoffed as you squinted up at him, “it’s my roommate’s birthday party.” 

“Right, forgot you moved in with all of them, became just one of the boys…” as a beat of silence fell over him, he let his gaze then rake over your form, lapping up the soft blue material that draped across your curves, “you look good tonight, by the way.”

“I–…” your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a sigh, “Ransom, can we not? Just for tonight, can we not do all of this? Just let me be here, celebrate my friend, and then after that, if you so wish, we can get back to our regularly scheduled program. Just one night of peace, that’s all I’m asking for.”

His dark brows then furrowed as he cocked his head, “babe, come on–”

Cutting him off with a scoff, you spat, “I haven’t been your babe since you broke up with me.”

He had been all for landing a girl that was essentially a wet dream come true when it came to all of the sinful areas you were itching to explore with him, but what hadn’t been a part of his plans was having a girlfriend who wasn’t exclusively a slut for him and him alone. He’d told you to choose between him and your dirty little hobby, but to his surprise, you hadn’t even hesitated when you didn’t choose him. 

A low sigh then puffed from his lungs, “fine.”

Heatedly ripping your arm free, you echoed, “fine,” before turning on your heel and exiting the kitchen. 

Luckily, your search didn’t drag on too much further before you stumbled upon your celebrated friend. 

“There you are!” you exclaimed, your voice ushering Curtis’ head to twist in your direction, his glance shifting from the pool table before him. 

“Baby!” he swiftly threw open his inked arms and pulled you close, “hey!”

Hearing the heavy balls clank around on the table, you asked, “are you in the middle of a game or could I steal you away for a sec?”

“Nah, not this round,” he withdrew only ever so slightly, letting one of his arms stay draped over your shoulders, “what do you need?”

Pulling him with you in the direction of the wide staircase, you smirked, “I just have a present to give you…”

“Another one?” he blinked as you dragged him up the steps. 

“Well, you deserve the world, so yes, you get another one this year,” you offered him a warm smile. 

“Man,” he exhaled as you reached the upper level, “happy birthday to me,” a smirk spread across his features as he willingly let you push him into one of the rooms. 

It was a study room filled with long communal desks, tall bookcases and velvet armchairs. It was also, thankfully, vacant of any other partygoers. 

“Happy birthday, Curtis,” you didn’t waste any time, the door barely managed to slam behind you, before you yanked him in for a kiss. 

It took him a second before he caught up with your sudden actions, but as soon as he did, a gentle giggle rumbled from his intoxicated form and vibrated against your lips as he enveloped his long arms around your frame. 

Feet shuffling, your roommate soon bumped into one of the tables, lending him to half sit on it as you let your touch rake down his figure. Even with the swift and determined pace your desperation drove you to have, it still didn’t take that long for Curtis to be on the same page as you, and when your palm fluttered down to cup him through his pants, the tent twitched beneath your touch. 

At first, when you then withdrew from the kiss, Curtis instinctively followed your disappearing lips till he noticed your knees buckling as you sank down onto the floor. 

“This is so much better than losing at pool,” he gazed down at you between his thighs, nearly hypnotised as you tugged at his zipper.

“I’d sure hope so,” you nearly scoffed as you freed him of his binds, not hesitating to lean in and swipe your tongue silkily against the very tip of him as soon as you had the chance, “although, you know I never mind being a consolation prize.”

“Consolation prize?” his tone filtered through a soft groan as your fist enclosed around his base, twisting slightly as it jerked up to graze your mouth, “that’s not what you were last week.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” your giggle vibrated against him, “it’s okay, baby. Maybe next time we play at home you’ll get to win and show the others who’s boss,” you purred before your lips enveloped fully around his fat girth. 

When spit and slobber soon bubbled out and dripped down onto your chest from your efforts, you got back up to your feet. As you let the back of your palm wipe a bit of the mess from your chin, you twisted your frame around and let your spine melt back against this broad chest. 

As you felt Curtis’ fingers dig into your dress and hike it up, you rolled your hips back against him, nearly dizzy with want. Gliding a hand down between your thighs, you captured the sodden material, utterly ruined and clinging to your core, before you yanked it to the side, the leaky mess not yet ready to let go of the panties and spiderwebbing to where you pulled it to the side.  

Reaching around, your grip captured his cock once again as you tilted him to teasingly brush through your folds, your activities from earlier made it almost pathetic how sloppy you got him in a matter of seconds. 

As his lips pressed to your cheek in a hot kiss, you glanced over your shoulder to catch his eye and take in his reaction.

You didn’t warn him, nor say anything at all. Only a smirk glimmered on your lips as a forewarning before you led him away from the leaky entrance he naturally assumed you’d let him into, and instead arched your back and eased his slicked-up length into somewhere else. 

“Oh–, holy shit,” his eyes flickered down to affirm what you were doing before blinking up at you in the assumption that it was a mistake, “baby, you’re–”

“I know,” you smiled at the way his chest heaved at the realisation. 

“Wait, seriously?” 

“Told you I had another present for you,” your gloating grin softened at the moan that slipped out as you sank down just a little further upon his dick. 

His fingers dented both sides of your hips as you slowly let him feel more of you, “oh my god, you’re the fucking best…” 

It was shallow at first, gentle as you controlled the pace, though still mind-meltingly intense as you fucked back against him till your knees began to wobble, feeling each and every little detail of his stretch your little ass out. 

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face between the lazy pecks he planted there and occasionally veering further south to try and mark your neck up with his bites. 

“O-oh, fuck,” you whimpered when one of his inked arms snaked around to your front and stretched down to rub your clit, swollen and throbbing between the pads of his rough fingers. 

Since you’d backed away from the edge not too long before, its overwhelming return was swift and quickly rendered you a shivering mess in his arms as your rhythm came to a rest and the tight circles he drew over your puffy pearl pushed you into insanity. 

Eyes still shut as you were panting for breath, you felt Curtis pluck up your chin and tilt it so that his lips could seize yours. 

Though the blissful pause didn’t last very long before he manoeuvred you around, manhandling you into a new configuration, though all the while never slipping his cock out. 

His palm was heavy against your back as he whirled you around and bent you over the table. Cheek smooshed against the smooth wooden surface, the thunderous snap his hips then offered caused the desk to rattle beneath you. 

However, just as you sensed him begin to lose himself, burying his cock so deep inside of you that it caused you to see stars, the creaking sound of the door to the study swinging open sliced through the lewd harmonies already filling the room.

Even though you couldn’t really glance over your shoulder to see who it was that entered, the recognisable voices that then found your ears calmed your worries about why Curtis’ pace for some reason hadn’t slowed down in the slightest. 

“No, I’m not kidding, that’s really what–, oh,” Bucky’s sentence paused as soon he spotted you, “hello you two.”

You attempted to tilt your head against the table as the last of your roommates came into view, shut the door behind them and stepped closer. 

As you reached out a wobbly hand to grasp Steve’s, he sweetly caught it in his and chuckled at your cock drunk visage, “hey.”

“Hmm–, hi…” you attempted to greet them, Bucky swiftly bending down to briefly be at your height, letting his fingers brush some of your hair out of your face as Curtis’ efforts jolted your frame against the table at every feverish thrust. 

“Was wondering where you guys were,” Steve held onto your hand a little longer as his glance met the blissful gaze of the man who was balls deep inside of you, “I thought she already gave you her little present.”

“You knew?” Curtis tilted his chin, to which you tried to explain with a mumble, though one of your roommates didn’t hesitate to playfully ask you to clarify.

“I’m sorry what was that? You’re being too much of whore right now for me to understand you,” Bucky pressed a peck to your brow before straightening back up, “look, I would have totally told you man, but she threatened us not to ruin the surprise.” 

“Yeah, said that if you didn’t get to take a dip first, then none of us ever would,” Steve added. 

“Aw,” you felt Curtis kneed your bottom as he slammed into you, “you’d really have done that?”

“I did say you deserve the world, so yeah,” you managed to squeak. 

“It’s so cute how sappy birthdays make you,” Bucky smirked, “such a shame not one of us even hesitates to exploit it.” 

As one hand stayed glued to the curve of your ass, his thumb hooked in your underwear to grant not only him but the rest a perfect view of just how well you took him, Curtis’ other hand then stretched out to grasp the half-empty beer that Steve handed him, briefly taking a swig before handing it back. 

“Yeah, she really is just such a good little girl, aren’t you?” Steve found a seat on one of the nearby chairs. 

“Mhm…” you barely caught sight of how both of them palmed themselves for an ounce of relief. 

Sitting down as well, Bucky squinted cockily back at you as your hazy eyes briefly caught his, “what was that, sweetheart?”  

“I’m a–,” you blubbered as Curtis’ cock stretched you so wide that you even felt it press against the sweet spots in your throbbing pussy, “I’m a g-good girl–”

“Yes, you are, baby, that’s right,” Curtis chuckled warmly behind you before offering your ass a swift slap, “the fucking best.”

“Oh, oh! She’s so close to cumming, I can see it!” Bucky exclaimed in an almost mocking tone as your eyes began to roll, “just look at that face,” he nearly jumped to get closer, “so fucking pretty.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Steve leaned back in his seat and squeezed his hard-on as he stared at your fucked out form, “give us a good show. Make it good for the birthday boy.” 

Although, unfortunately, you were already too far gone by then to take any of their lewd comments into account as you tumbled over the edge, floating in the sea of your cheering roommates as a soundtrack. 

After your friend had emptied himself into your haven, he simply slid your panties back into place so that his cum could leak out of you for the rest of the party and ruin your sheer underwear completely, perhaps even give up entirely and run down your shaky legs for all to see.

Bending down to smother you back to life with kisses, you also felt Curtis’ arms tangle around you as he hugged you and slowly lifted you off of the table. 

“You wanna go down and dance?” his low timbre tickled the shell of your ear. 

“Just give me a second,” you breathed through your hazy smile as you fought to blink your eyes back open, “my legs will first have to start working again. Maybe you could take over the music for a second and queue up something slow,” you light-heartedly suggested with an airy chuckle. 

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Bucky smirked from across the table, “we’ll help keep you upright.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[puck-luck]

change-up | luke hughes

warnings: unprotected p in v, creampie, oral f!receiving, multiple orgasms, squirting, dirty talk, praise praise praise, fingering & masturbation, references to prior & future hookups, hookup culture, TW: hinge😩, mentions of size difference pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: “because of how shy luke was when he first met reader, she thinks that he’s going to be inexperienced in bed and she‘ll to have to take the lead..but really lukey absolutely ruins her”, “could I please request luke Hughes smut where he loves being so much bigger than you”, “LOVEEDD the luke hughes one def write more dom stuff” wc: 4382

“Do you, maybe, want to go back to mine?” Luke asks quietly, his lips a mere nudge against the shell of your ear. Even in the loud bar, his voice cuts through the chatter like a flash of light. 

You’d only met Luke earlier that night, a Hinge date gone right for you and your best friend. When Luke had invited you out to the bar he was at with some of his teammates, your best friend had jumped to point out that this could be your Kylie Kelce moment– you had to go and meet your Jason, even though Luke didn’t resemble the football player at all. Not that you minded.

You consider his words– Luke’s arm is thrown over your shoulder comfortably. His body is warm against yours. He’s been pretty shy all night, quiet enough that you felt like you had to control the conversation, but while Luke was in the bathroom, one of his buddies had revealed that that was normal for Luke. He was a quiet boy around new people– it didn’t mean he didn’t like you.

Clearly, it didn’t mean he didn’t like you. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be inviting you back to his apartment. You’re not a fool. You know what that means. 

Regardless, you agree. “Sure,” you say with a smile. 

Luke returns the smile, leaning over you to gesture towards the bartender. He closes his tab, which houses both his and your drinks. You each had only had two drinks, so you’re feeling tipsy, but not drunk enough to stop what’s about to happen.

Once Luke has closed out, he guides you to his car and opens the door in a gentlemanly way for you. The ride to his home is silent save for the country music playing from the radio. Luke’s hand rests on your knee, a weight that has you squirming.

As shy as he is, you’ve come to realize that Luke’s love language is easily physical touch. He’s been sweet when he speaks with you, and he paid for all of your drinks, which kept words of affirmation and gift giving in the running for a while, but he’s kept a hand on you all night. 

He had seemed hesitant to do so, playing it safe by touching your arm or your knee or your shoulder. When you hadn’t shrugged him off, but rather presented him with a smile and a lean into his heat, Luke had become more sure with it.

You don’t know anything about his sex life or how experienced or inexperienced he is, but you expect that you’ll have to do the same thing in bed. You’ll have to reassure him that yes, you actually want to do this, and you actually like this. He’ll want to make sure he’s being good for you, because he’s the sweetest, but if you’re honest, you’re a little disappointed that you’ll have to take the lead.

One of the reasons why you had matched with Luke on Hinge, aside from how cute he was, was that he looked like an athlete. You’ve always been someone who likes to be overpowered a bit, liking someone bigger than you, and Luke looked like he could throw you around easily. You wanted him to do so, but that just doesn’t seem like it’s in the cards tonight, and you can accept that. You’ll hook up with someone else who will toss you around eventually– but Luke is too pretty and too kind to pass up.

When he pulls into the garage and parks, Luke rounds the car and opens your door for you. He leads you by the hand into his apartment. Your purse slips down your arm and, once inside the apartment, Luke takes it from you and hangs it on a hook near his front door. 

The apartment is still dark and you find yourself distracted trying to look at his furniture through the shadows. Giving up, you turn back to face Luke with a smile on your face. 

Shockingly, he’s already moving toward you. 

Luke pushes you against the wall, his hands on your hips. He’s kissing you, swallowing your noise of surprise. You’re frozen against him for just a moment, caught off guard by his insistent movements and confident grip on your sides. You melt into his touch when his presence finally registers, the catalyst being Luke’s fingers shifting to tug at the belt loops on your jeans. You place your forearms on his shoulders, crossing your wrists behind his head. 

Luke pulls your hips against his, pressing into you with his growing length. He’s leaning over you, causing your shoulders and head to rest against the wall while your back and hips arch into him. Smoothly, he steps forward and moves one of his hands so he’s bracketing your head. 

His tongue flexes when he enters your mouth, his muscle sliding against your own. You melt even further against him, moaning against his lips. You sag against the wall and Luke’s strong hands catch you, holding you upright. 

His fingers roam along your skin, eventually resting on the swell of your ass. He squeezes your cheeks harshly, grunting in appreciation as your bottom fills his large hands. Luke lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, sitting prettily with your clothed core barely brushing his cock. You grind down against him, and Luke’s mouth curves in a smile, lips still touching your own. 

“Eager,” he mumbles, sounding smug. 

“Happily surprised,” you correct, words muffled and interrupted by your kisses. “I thought you’d be shy.”

“Mm, not when we’re alone,” Luke hums, holding you with one hand around your waist. He starts to march down the dark hallway, pushing open his bedroom door with a bang. “Not when I’m so close to getting what I want.”

Luke gently lays you on his bed, hands splayed across your back. He’s still kissing you, adamant and consistent. Now, he’s got gravity on his side. His body is covering your own, trapping you against the soft mattress. A soft curse leaves your mouth, filling Luke’s. You’re sharing the air between yourselves, aching for the other person.

“What do you want?” You ask, one of your hands finding his curls and toying with the strands. 

Luke groans, parting from you to nuzzle against your neck as you continue to scratch against his scalp. He mouths over your neck messily, his tongue painting your skin like long brush strokes across a canvas. 

“Want to mark you up,” Luke mutters, nipping at your neck. He sucks the fleshy skin at the base of your neck between your clavicles. “I want you to remember this night.”

You moan, curling a hand along his collar and pulling at the t-shirt adorning his body in an entirely unnecessary way, in your opinion. You expose his collarbone, sharp and smooth all at once, but you don’t get to reap the rewards. 

Luke instead just chuckles and bats your hand away, capturing it in his own. He presses your wrist into the mattress above your head, exposing you further. “I want to make sure you think about me for weeks.” Luke feeds the promise to you with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip and a tiny nibble along the same path. “That every time you get yourself off, you think about how my fingers would be better than your own, or that my cock would fill you better than any toy you own, or any other boy you find.”

You knew that this would be a hook-up sort of thing, nothing more serious because Luke’s Hinge profile clearly stated he wasn’t looking for anything long term, but his possessive tone fuels a fire in you that has you whining and tugging his hair.

He shifts your hand to join the other, his fingers gripping both of your wrists while his other hand starts to explore your body. He dances over the curves of your breasts, along your elongated stomach. Your ribs are prominent and your stomach is flatter with your back against the bed– and Luke touches your skin like you’re precious to him. For a first night together, you already feel so seen. 

After caressing your skin, Luke pulls your shirt up and bundles the fabric near the base of your neck, revealing your little lacy bralette to him. He licks along the band, going from your neck down the V of your chest, then back up to your other shoulder. You watch his nose bump against your curves and your jaw slackens a bit with the possibilities that are running through your head.

You’d give anything to get his mouth on your clit, already swollen and pulsing with faux-lightning shocks from each of Luke’s touches. 

“Eat me out,” you say, a push in the right direction. Boys like when girls speak their mind, right?

Luke stills, his lips hovering above your sternum. You watch him smirk, then resume his kissing, sweet wet pecks marking the space where your breasts meet. “Lost your manners?” He finally asks, pulling away from your body to remove your shirt. He leaves it tangled along your wrist, wrapping it a few times and tucking the end into the band of your watch to secure the fabric in place.

You pout petulantly and Luke slides off the bed, kneeling between your legs that are bent over the side of the bed. He runs a finger along the seam of your jeans, taking extra care to rub his knuckle over your clothed entrance. You keen and he draws his hand up, resting it on your mound with his thumb stationary and heavy against your clit.

“Baby, I want to,” Luke assures you, his thumb lifting up and patting your clit a few times, causing you to jolt. “But I can’t until you ask me nicely.” He starts to rub your clothed clit, up and down in slow movements. He’s peering up at you with wide eyes, blinking like he’s innocent even though he’s driving you crazy.

“Please?” You try, your voice a little squeaky. 

A tiny smile on his face, Luke tilts his head at you. “You can do better than that,” he says, shifting forward to plant a kiss where his thumb rested. “Give it a second try.”

“Please eat me out, Luke,” you say, putting another pout on your face for good measure.

“Better,” Luke teases, trailing off. He reaches for your zipper, dragging it down. He inches the denim down your legs, revealing the panties that you’re practically soaking with your slick. They match your bralette– a purposeful decision that doesn’t do unnoticed by Luke. He thumbs over your clit again, then dips lower to flick over the wet spot staining the fabric. “Keep going. I want you to beg.”

He removes your pants with a kiss to the inside of your knee. His hands move to your thighs, feeling up the skin, keeping you warm in the chilled apartment. His breath passes over your core as he switches sides and you ache for him. It breaks the floodgates and you give him exactly what he wants, falling into that submissive role you’re able to fill so well.

“I need to feel your mouth on me, Luke. I know it’ll be so good– I know you’ll make me feel so good. Fuck, Luke, I want to come on your tongue. Taste me, please, please fuck me with your tongue.”

Luke’s crooked grin returns, his teeth peeking out from behind his lips and glinting at you. “Such dirty words for such a pretty girl,” he teases, but he hooks his fingers along the crotch of your panties and tugs them to the side, revealing your wet folds. He flexes his tongue, pointing it into a solid spear that he uses to spread your lower lips and locate your entrance. “Let’s see how fast I can make you come,” Luke murmurs before diving in and lathering your clit in a wet kiss. 

He pushes your legs apart, using his strong hands to pin your hips to the bed and keep them there. You want to wiggle out from under him and grind against his face, but Luke forces you to relinquish control with his size and strength.

It’s just what you wanted. Whining and tugging at the fabric around your wrists (easily removable, although you choose not to do so), you relax against the mattress and let Luke have his way with you.

He loves it, eating you out like he could do this for hours, like he could die happy between your leg. He’s moaning against you and massaging praise into your skin, all while licking every inch of your cunt. He fucks his tongue into you, he spits along your folds and watches the saliva drip down the crack of your behind before scooping it back up with his tongue and closing his lips around your clit. He leaves you wetter and wetter each time he pulls away, admiring his handiwork from a distance with a slack jaw before locating his next target and assaulting it with his tongue and gentle scrapes of his teeth. The first time he swept his bottom teeth against your clit, you flinched, but it quickly became a moan for more.

You’ve always been a glutton, addicted to toeing the line between pleasure and pain. 

It surprises you that Luke is the same way– although he would prefer to inflict the sensation than receive it. You align perfectly.

The sharp press of his tongue inside you draws a litany of noises from your mouth and it reinvigorates Luke’s efforts, with him flicking the muscle as far as he can within your cunt. He clutches at your skin, reaching under you to envelop both of your ass cheeks in his palms and lift your pussy to meet his face. There’s no room for reprieve, no space between you, and Luke is bullying your core with inconsistent nudges of his nose to your clit. 

“Luke, my clit,” you beg, chest heaving with how badly you yearn for your release. “Please.”

“You can come without that,” Luke replies, licking over the bundle once in consolation before returning to your hole, where you’re leaking fluids. Slick, saliva, and your impending orgasm all find their way onto Luke’s tongue, running down his chin and moistening the bed beneath you. You can feel the sheets growing wet beneath you, but you don’t care. Luke is making you feel even better than you imagined he would. 

You come over his tongue with a series of moans, bringing your still-tied hands down to his hair and tugging at his locks. Luke flicks over clit with quick kitten licks, only stopping when you’re crying out from oversensitivity

Luke kisses up your body, capturing your nipples between his lips over the lace fabric of your bralette, leaving the peaks pointed and cold when his mouth travels further north. 

He brings his lips to yours, ravishing the plush curves until they’re red and bruised. All the while, Luke mumbles praises to you until they blur together and you’re arching your back to feel his torso against yours again.

“You wanna go again?” Luke checks, nibbling on your bottom lip. “Ready to give me another one?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding and knocking your nose against his. He leans in and gives you a proper Eskimo kiss before pecking you one last time. 

Luke uses his strong hands to maneuver you the way he wants– chest pressed into the bed, ass pulled up and flush with his groin as he kneels behind you. He snaps the band of your bralette against your shoulderblade, then kneads the skin of your hips. 

“Close your eyes, babydoll,” Luke commands in a gentle voice. “I want you to feel this, just focus on feeling me.”

He rolls his hips against your behind, his cock still clothed but poking at the fabric like it’s trying to find its mark and sink into your heat. He pulls you against him and you wiggle your hips, obeying his command and closing your eyes. Your t-shirt fell from your wrists during the repositioning, so you clutch freely at the pillow under your head with one hand and hold your breast with the other. You squeeze the skin, moaning at the pleasure.

Luke brings your attention back to him with a sharp spank, making you yelp and clench down with both of your hands, scrambling for something to ground you. Luke chuckles and spanks you again, harder this time and on your other cheek. 

“Can’t wait to see this ass bounce,” Luke announces, smirking obviously even though you can’t see it. “I’m gonna make sure it’s pretty and pink while I fill your pussy up.”

If your eyes weren’t shut, they’d be rolling in your head at his words. You’re helpless, reduced to a moaning mess beneath Luke. 

You had no idea that the night would turn out like this, having fully expected to push him down and ride him until he came inside of you because he just couldn’t take the pleasure any longer. The tables have turned– now you’re the one leaking beneath him, your hole spread open from his thorough meal and positively waiting for him.

Luke disappears from behind you to remove his shorts, you assume. You keep your eyes closed and you hold your position, hoping your obedience will result in a reward. 

His voice washes over you, warming you like he’s still draped over your shoulder back at the bar. 

“Keep yourself full for me while I grab something, eh?” Luke asks, a prodding question that you’re scrambling to fulfill before he can even finish his sentence. 

Your middle two fingers slide into your hole, a wet squelch pushing a breath of a laugh out of Luke from his distance. You grind against the heel of your hand, spreading your knees for more leverage. 

“Good girl,” Luke coos, making his way back onto the bed. He’s behind you once again, naked, and you wish you could open your eyes and sneak a peek at his cock. You want to see how well endowed he is, feeling him brush against your thigh before a line of spit drips down your crack and crawls toward your hole. 

You fuck yourself on your fingers, hips rocking back. There are whimpers and whines filling the room, sounding needy and desperate for more, and it takes you a minute to realize that the words are muffled into the pillow, falling from your mouth. Biting down on the pillow to silence yourself, you curl your fingers inside yourself, hoping to reach your g-spot. In this position, you fall just short.

Luke’s index finger traces over the valley of your fingers, nearing your entrance. He’s silent, his moves calculated, and his index finger presses into you. He joins your middle and ring finger, his index finger reaching your insides in a way that has you keening. You can feel his fingertips against your nailbeds, then Luke wiggles his finger in further. 

You feel like you actually drip onto the bed when he pets over your g-spot, the spot that you couldn’t find on your own. Your knees are wide and your hips are slowly coming lower and lower. Your body is defaulting to the position in which you’ve gotten off so many times– hips flush against the bed, clit rubbing against your palm as you clench down on your own fingers. 

Luke uses his knee to bring your ass back up to its previous height, swatting at your flesh when you let out a complaint at the loss. Your clit is feeling neglected, practically calling out for pleasure, but the feeling of your fingers– and Luke’s– inside you is too good to take away.

So Luke does it for you. He removes his finger from your heat and digs under your knuckles, removing your digits from their wet home. The loss of contact comes with a devastating empty feeling and Luke soothes you with a cooed praise when you express your discontent. 

He solves the problem by slapping his thick cockhead against your open hole, resting it there until you’re squirming against him and pleas are leaving you with increasing intensity and higher pitch.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Luke murmurs, pinching your skin as a reprimand. “You’ve been so good, listening to me so well. I’m going to reward you, don’t worry. Let me take care of you.”

He inches his cock inside your pussy achingly slow. You can feel every inch of him, every vein rubbing against your walls. You can feel the precum leaking from his slit and mixing with your own wetness. His tip finally nudges at your cervix, kissing the opening with another blurt of precum, and you ache for Luke to fill you up. You wish you were facing him so that he could drop a line of spit onto your tongue in a similar way.

When Luke starts to move, drawing himself out of you then forcing his way back in, all images disappear from your mind. His cock is all you can focus on– the warmth, how it’s pulsing inside of you, how it’s stretching your hole even though you had three fingers inside of it just minutes ago. 

Luke is consistent, fucking into you with hard and sure thrusts that leave you moaning. A puddle of drool is pooling on the pillow and your mouth is nearly constantly open, your tongue dry and breaths ragged. Your noises continue in their high-pitched tone, spurring Luke on. He pounds your pussy, ruining it for everyone else. 

Luke was right. You’d be thinking about him for weeks to come. 

He has you shrieking with each slap to your ass, the skin growing hot and becoming more red with each swat. You had no idea that you could be so loud in bed– you’ve normally got a handle on yourself. Normally, you’re not so wet that each thrust results in a pornographic sound of skin meeting skin. 

Luke is in a league all of his own.

“So tight,” he groans. “‘M gonna come, baby.”

“Come in me,” you beg. “Fuck, Luke, come in me.”

“I will,” he promises. “I want you to come first.”

Your abdomen is tight, burning with the need to release. You feel like you could explode and the thought pops into your head– you’d never been able to before, not with another man nor when fucking yourself, but you bet you could squirt now.

“Can I touch?” You ask, desperate. “Please, wanna touch my clit. Wanna come for you. Wanna be good. Please, Luke, tell me I can.”

“Go on,” he encourages. “Let me feel you.”

It’s like an out of body experience. You have control of your hands, but your fingers feel foreign as they find your clit and start to rub frantic circles over the bundle. Your chest is snug against the bedsheets. You spread your legs even further, needing the space to keep yourself open and feel even wider. Luke notices and loops a hand under your thigh, lifting the leg and holding it up. He’s able to keep you balanced, able to keep you steady as your fingers slide over your dripping cunt.

His grunts and moans spur you on, your back arching. His tip finds your g-spot and abuses it, knocking the air out of you with each bump.

“Luke,” you whine, his name elongated on your tongue.

“I’m here, baby, let go.”

He’s reassuring and calm, so sure behind you and panting. He drapes himself over your back, kissing behind your ear. 

It’s the smooth brush of his lips that sends you over the edge. Your vision, already black, turns into a staticky void that you fall down like you’re skydiving. 

Luke is your parachute, fucking you through the spray of your orgasm and releasing his own seed inside of you. He fills you up with his warmth, fucking you until you’re sagging on the bed and breathing hard, barely able to move. Luke drags his cock out of your cunt and brings some of his come with it, although he promptly plugs you with his fingers and a kiss once he’s turned you over onto your back. 

His fingers are mostly still inside you, slowly pumping in and out in a way that isn’t meant to derive pleasure. He simply wants to feel you. His kisses are soft and sweet, soothing you and bringing you back down to Earth. 

Eventually, you regain control of your limbs. You shift one of your legs over Luke’s hips and cuddle close to him, rolling your hips against his finger. Your tongue slides against his, tasting your first orgasm on his lips. 

The moment dies slowly. You’re both tired, ready to sleep. Luke draws his fingers out of your entrance, pecking your lips one last time. 

“Go pee, baby,” he tells you. “You’re not getting a UTI on my account. I’ll get some PJs for you while you’re gone, then we can take a shower in the morning after I serve you some breakfast in bed.”

“Mmm,” you hum, beaming. You lean up to kiss Luke again. “How’d you get so good at aftercare? Lots of experience?”

“Just want to make sure you’re satisfied,” Luke replies, fondly smiling at you when you roll away and patter towards his ensuite bathroom. He laughs a little as you cringe, the mixture of come seeping out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.

“How about I take a quick shower now and we’ll discuss that breakfast in bed when I’m done?” You tease, already pulling back his shower curtain and turning the nozzles to find your optimum heat. 

“Don’t pee in my shower,” Luke calls, pushing the covers off the bed and gathering the wet sheets to throw in the wash. He’ll put new sheets on the bed while you’re cleaning yourself.

“I’m not!” You deny, affronted. “How dare you assume such a thing?”

The last thing you hear before stepping into Luke’s shower is his cheeky, throaty laugh. You fail to bite back the smile that comes with it.

[andromedaprime]

"We could have built the future togeth-"

"Wrong. The only future we're building is in your forge."

[chronicowboy]

i love that andy weir never kills his protagonists. it would be so easy to. at so many points. by all means they Should be dead. mark gets stranded on mars and the planet works against him at every turn. jazz's suit fails on the surface of the moon and she feels herself begin to die. ryland is sent on a suicide mission then gives up his chance at return for his friend. they should all have died. multiple times in some cases. but they don't!!! because weir isn't writing tragedies, he's writing stories of hope and humanity. they survive even when it should be impossible for them to because of connection. simple as that.

[leahssmile]

— ella

pairing: leah williamson x reader

summary: ever since she started dating you, leah has heard lots about your daughter, ella. but she hasn't met her yet, until now.

notes: this is my first fic so sorry if it's not the best, I'm still trying to figure out writing and stuff!! anyways – feedback and such is appreciated! take care, everyone! :)

Ever since you'd started dating Leah, she'd been eager to meet your daughter who you talked so much about, Ella.

You always seemed to have a new story or quip about your daughter to share with her, always with heaps of love and adoration piled onto your words.

However after being together for a few months you still hadn't introduced the two, much less shared a photo of the young girl with her.

Leah didn't push it, though. She understood that you wanted to take the relationship slow and didn't want to rush to introduce the two.

She was content with letting you decide when the right time would be for her to meet such a big person in your life, and until then she was fine with the details about you that you did share.

One such detail had been your desire to go to a new restaurant that had opened up a few weeks ago, the reviews had been great and you always complained there weren't any other good restaurants around where you lived that you could get your Italian food fix.

So Leah figures taking you out to the Italian restaurant for some pasta as your next date would be a great idea.

So after some planning and bringing the idea of a dinner date up to you, she books a reservation and impatiently waits for you to get off work.

She worries for a bit about Ella, if you'll be able to get someone to watch her on such a short notice, but you don't express any worries yourself so she figures you'd hire a nanny or get a teammate to babysit, so she doesn't dwell on it too much, more focused on making the date the best it could be.

She's already been seated at a table by the time you arrive, but she stands to greet you as a waitress directs you over.

After a quick hug she gestures for you to take a seat, noticing the vaguely tired look on your face as you take off your coat and slide into the booth.

“Everything alright?” She asks worryingly, wondering if work had drained you enough for a rescheduling of the date to be considered.

You quickly wave her worries away, taking a sip of your water before explaining, “Yeah, Ella was just rowdy all night so I didn't get a great night's sleep.” Leah nods understandably, reaching over to squeeze your hand across from the table.

You both smile, and shortly after your waitress arrives to get your orders.

The date progresses smoothly from there, the food and service is just as wonderful as Leah had hoped, and most importantly, you seem to be having a great time.

The mood carries outside of the restaurant as you both head to your cars parked next to each other, and just as Leah turns to give you a kiss goodnight you suggest a different plan.

“Do you want to come over to my place? Maybe meet Ella?”

Leah tries her best to hide her excitement at the offer, but her eyes still manage to light up and a smile stretches across her face as the prospect of you finally being ready to introduce her to Ella.

“Of course!” She says quickly, not giving her answer a second thought.

You burst into your own grin, giving a little cheer before hugging the footballer.

“Okay, you can follow me there, since we both drove here.” Leah nods, momentarily regretting her earlier choice to drive herself to the restaurant.

However the drive is short, and once she takes a second to calm herself she gets out of her car and follows you inside.

“Ella!” You call as you step into the house, and Leah tilts her head for a response as she makes sure to shut the door after the both of you.

She doesn't hear one, and she figures that maybe the girl was in her bedroom with the nanny, too far into the house for her to hear.

But after a moment, Leah hears the sound of scampering coming down the ball, and as she turns to see your daughter for the first time, readying herself to make a good impression, she freezes.

Because instead of a young girl, maybe with you eyes or other features, coming down the hall to throw her arms around you, a small brown puppy scampers into your arms, slathering your face with puppy kisses.

You giggle as the puppy jumps up and down, cupping its head to press your own kiss to its furry head. And as if to confirm Leah's confused and dumbfounded thoughts, you scoop it up and turn to her.

“Leah, meet Ella! Ella, this is Leah.”

You stand there for a second, the puppy extended in your arms towards Leah, who in turn stares dumbly as she feels herself start to grow red in embarrassment.

“I- this is so embarrassing.” She finally mumbles, moving her hands to cover her face as her shoulders sag in embarrassment and disbelief.

“What is?” You question, worry gathering inside you as you shift the puppy in order to place a supportive hand onto her arm.

Leah sighs, smiling weakly as she forces herself to look up at you. “I thought Ella was… I thought she was your daughter.” She finally gets out, feeling her cheeks heat up once more as she moves to cover her face again.

You try to hold back your laughter, but it pours out of you as you take in what she had just admitted, bending down to rest the puppy back onto the floor as you descend into giggles.

Ella nudges Leah's foot, and after a moment she finally looks down at the dachshund-looking puppy.

She has to admit, she is cute. And her eyes strangely do have a similar shine to yours.

And by the time you get all your laughter out she's sitting on the floor of the kitchen, rubbing the floppy puppy's tummy softly.

“I'm sorry.” You offer weakly, a small smile continuing to play at your lips as you join her on the tiles.

She sighs, lightly shaking her head. “Don't be, I don't know why I assumed she was a kid over a dog. Like who says their daughter needs to be house trained instead of potty trained?”

You chuckle, rubbing Ella between her ears. “To be fair, I have been told I sometimes talk about her like she is my daughter.”

It was what some called a bad habit, but it had never really been an issue until now. You just loved your puppy, she was your first pet, and the perfect one at that, so you loved to gush about her and everything she does to anyone who would listen.

“Well, she is a sweetheart.” Leah says after a moment, watching as the puppy climbs into your lap, contently curling up there.

She had always wanted a pup of her own, anyways, and she was happy she could share your love for your pup too.

[thoughtkick]

They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.

Andy Warhol

[andypantsx3]

thinking about a beach vacation with shouto.

he is distractingly handsome in his well-fitting board shorts, and even more so when he shucks his shirt and wants you to put his sunscreen on him yourself. then he promptly falls asleep in the sun, only rousing when you nudge him to rotate so he doesn't burn too badly on one side. he's unbearably beautiful, all that taught muscle stretched out in the sunlight, long lashes fanning the tops of his cheeks, his breath coming as slow and steady as the waves.

he wakes long enough to decimate all your beach snacks and let you reapply his sunscreen, before following you into the water and floating contentedly next to you. he falls back asleep on the towels when you come back in, his wet skin glittering in the sun, droplets sliding enticingly into the divots of his adonis belt before evaporating in the heat. you're ostensibly reading, but you keep getting distracted by the sight of him, marveling at how one person could be so lovely.

he helps you pack up when it's time to go back up to the hotel, his long fingers gently brushing sand from your skin. when you want to shower off the sand he follows you in and fucks you against the cool tile, kissing you slow and sweet beneath the shower spray. he takes you again when you insist on applying aloe, groaning under your hands and hitching you up over his waist.

you manage to leave the room just long enough to scrounge up a meal, but you're unwrapped and pressed down into the mattress as soon as you're back through the door again. shouto's skin is hot, almost feverish, and yours is too with the beginnings of a sunburn despite your best efforts, and it's a searing contrast against the cool of your room's air conditioning. shouto tastes fruity, like the drink he had at dinner, and he makes your head spin exactly like a cocktail himself.

you're slick with sweat by the time he's done with you, shivering as it cools against your skin and you think you should shower again. but shouto pins you against him with a strong arm over your waist, and falls asleep with his face tucked into the crook of your neck. you can't bear to disturb him, then, and the heat of him against you lulls you to sleep too.

[death---dealer]

Courting Imagines. ( Caesar x Reader, POTA. )

I'm a romantic at heart leave me alone. How did this end up being 6K+ words? Idk, but enjoy Next on this list for this series ( Courting ): Noa and Blue Eyes ( Potentially open to other characters, if you guys wanted! )

Does not know he’s actually courting you until it is brought to his attention by Maurice one slow afternoon. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

The two of them sitting and biding time, there’s not much to get done fortunately and Caesar is allowed a solemn downtime to rest and recoup after the chaos that had been happening recently as far as the influx of Humans stumbling upon the Colony and threatening them. As great as he was to lead his people, he wanted moments like this on occasion where he wasn’t being torn in thirteen different directions. Koba, Blue Eyes, Rocket, Ash, all having thoughts, all encompassing to Caesar who listened so intently to each of their concerns, and even the concerns of those outside of his council.

His gaze? Subsequently right on you as you were helping Lake rally in the young Apes into a circle. You had been blessed with time to spend with them for reading and learning, sharing the opportunity with Maurice when the attention was made that you were able to communicate to them to the point of understanding. Caesar paused when you lifted up a small Chimpanzee baby, giving himself a small huff as they climbed along your shoulder blades and began digging into your hair as you were talking. What about? Caesar could not hear but was more than entranced at watching your mouth form words.

Quietly, he drifted his eyes back forward to stare at the bonfire pensively. There was always a sense of pride that rocketed through his entire being at the notion that his people were free and prospering, but this time, he felt a bit more of an aggressive edge to the thought when you were added to the equation. It wasn’t an unsavory feeling, in fact, it was quite the opposite and Caesar preemptively accepted the lingerance, able to see your face when he closed his eyes.

You’d begun spending much more time together, almost all his days when he wasn’t thrusted into situations that beckoned his full attention were spent with you. Listening to you talk about Humanity, always a great perspective to Caesar who wrote off his eager curiosities about you as being the same as his curiosities for humanity as a whole. You’d gone fishing together, hunting on one occasion which he was partial to because you ultimately rode on the back of his horse and your entire body pressed against his own, you spent later evenings sitting by the fire in either silence or playful banter, sometimes even managing to get him to crack a smile or release a memory about his childhood with Humans.

He took silent pleasures when you would grasp his arm in laughter as you threw your head back in a laugh, green eyes lingering just a second too long on your exposed jugular, or when you would grasp at his hands when talking. All so Human, all so familiar to him but he wanted more deep down. Caesar especially liked it when you and he would spend time together and he was consciously aware that the rest of his Colony could smell his scent radiating from your body from the mere proximity you had to him. There was an animalistic prickle on his ears if he rested on that thought too long.

Maurice, attentive and intuitive to Caesar’s body language and thoughts, chittered silently to himself and that captivated the Ape King to break his glance on the fire. He had been in a deeply meditative state about you, somewhat grateful to the Orangutan otherwise Caesar was going to waste the entire afternoon recollecting the moments he had with you out of obsession to pick apart at the smaller details of them.

A great pass time for a King who loved strategy.

“Good,” Caesar spoke first and nodded his head in the direction of Lake, primarily you but he covered his tracks with the Ape his son had an acutely oblivious connection to, “She can take part of your duty.”

Maurice followed Caesar’s gaze and nodded in agreement, knowing fully well what he was alluding to without any more context, ‘She is smart.’ He signed, ‘Compassionate, would make for a great mate.’

Caesar scoffed at that, picking up a rock and throwing it mindlessly into the fire in front of him, his eyes sliding to you every few seconds. He’d linger only as long as he felt necessary, as long as no one else took notice. The thrown rock, a deflection of sorts, he shuffled back and looked at his wise friend, green eyes focused and determined. His gaze asked ‘what do you mean?’, almost grateful in a way that he didn't need to verbalize for Maurice for him to understand the expressive nature of Caesar’s brow ridge arched in questioning.

The large ape continued and chided Caesar, ‘You have considered that as a possibility, have you not?’

“Human as mate?” Caesar felt like his breath got caught in his chest as his voice came tumbling out in a deep baritone. Enriching, he would imagine, if he brought his face to the shell of your ear and whispered against it. ‘Distraction,’ Caesar signed to Maurice, ‘She….’ He hesitated his hands before choosing words, finding them a bit easier now to express instead of putting more effort into sign language. “Helps me forget what happened before.”

Maurice understood that. Cornelia, always such a sore point to bring up, especially when it was around both Caesar or Blue Eyes. She had passed away from complications after Blue Eyes was born and Caesar vowed to himself to never gravitate towards another, but in a bid to be less lonely in the scape of his longer life, he found himself drawn to you despite his best efforts.

‘Cornelia would understand,” Maurice was gentle with his actioned words, rumbling deep in his chest to Caesar who only nodded in minor agreement. ‘She would want your happiness. I can see it already, the way you look at her.’ Maurice turned his small green eyes in the direction of you and Caesar was prone to follow. He was captivated at you, how you were expressing with your arms now, two Chimpanzee babies cradling themselves along your shoulders now instead of the one he had seen climbing before.

Caesar broke away from that quickly and turned to look off in the opposite direction, ‘Just a distraction.’ He signed fervently.

Maurice, letting out a small sigh let his eyes rest on you for a few moments longer, knowing fully well that Caesar, as subtle as he tried to move and angle himself, was looking at you again, though this time the emotions of his eyes altered. They were almost softened, but the ridge of his brow stayed hard. Maurice knew better - Maurice could see the shifts in Caesar. It was only a matter of time until the Ape King came to the same realization.

Being brought to have a meal with him for the first time. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

Being escorted up the trail that landed where the Royal Ape family sat was not on your bingo-card for the timid Summer evening you found yourself swimming through. There were two Apes with you - Luca, who had to have been the definition of gentle giant and became a quick friend to you during your time at the Colony and Rocket, Caesar’s right hand man who had to be tied for that position with Maurice. You smiled graciously as they dropped you off at the perched ledge, your feet finding it difficult to move forward when you finally rested your gaze on the King himself. The pure intensity of his green gaze always left you feeling melted and soldered to the very ground you were standing on.

He wasn’t alone and you were quick to break your gawk to flicker your eyes to Blue Eyes, who in his reserved demeanor, only looked at you curiously and popped a berry into his mouth rather reluctantly. The smile you gave him was gentle, understanding. You’d be hesitant of a species you had never met just like he was. He had every right and it was never taken as an offense.

“I-I was told you wanted to see me.” You laughed, trying to cover up the nerves but you knew that Caesar was more than well aware of them based on the sweat radiating off your palms and forehead.

Silence, he just looked at you and captivated your gaze in a dance. It was hard not to look at him, his entire self, the way his shoulders carried his weight, the way his brow sat so sternly against the rest of his features, a permanent scowl always encasing the wrinkled lines along his cheeks, especially under his eyes. Caesar was an experience himself, in every sense of the word and you flexed your hand wanting nothing more than to know what his fur felt like.

He was sitting next to his son, picking up a fresh bowl of what looked like the Elk that had been caught in the hunt earlier in the day and a handful of select berries with a splash of roasted seeds. Your stomach churned at the sight, mouth suddenly dripping as it dawned upon you just how hungry you were.

The bowl slid your way along the slick rock and rattled right at your feet. You looked at it, and then at Caesar and then back at the food. You were about to open your mouth in protest, but Caesar spoke first, that delicious tone he used more than enough to stave off your hunger for days.

“Join.”

Stumbling forward, you were quicker than you wanted to be to grasp the bowl, feeling a bit dizzy when you stood with it in your hand, “Y-- You want me to join you up here? I don’t know, Caesar. Koba’s gonna---”

“Will take care of Koba, join.” Caesar assured you and tentatively put some seeds into his mouth. The crunching of his teeth against them enlightened your senses to how powerful of a jaw he really had and the floating notion that he could rip your limbs off one by one with them was alluring to dive into. Morbidly, you just wanted to know what it felt like. Instead, you felt encased in synthetic movement as you drifted towards him, like he was the source of all gravity, and sat cautiously down.

Cross legged, you placed your own bowl in your lap and set your eyes on the large Ape next to you, then to Blue Eyes who seemed equally curious at his Fathers choice of dinner guest, and then back to Caesar again. Swallowing softly, he did not meet your glance. Instead, silence fell over the two of you as he continued to eat, prompting Blue Eyes to do the same. It looked good, no doubt.

You felt hungry, but all of a sudden, all your eyes wanted to feast on was Caesar. The rise and fall of his shoulders as he moved through his own food, obviously picking out what he liked best from the assortment and bringing them to his lips. You paused there, watching as he placed a berry against them as if in contemplation, the juicy nature speaking wonders as a drip fell onto his chin as he turned towards you slowly. Swallowing, you looked down at your bowl in a bid that maybe he hadn’t seen you staring at him and pretended to be rather interested in the seeds you played around with with your pointer finger.

“Not… hungry?” He finally broke the silence that was radiating through the air like a daft bullet, looking at you from his periphery. The shaking of your hand was more than indicative, the flushed appearance of your cheeks made Caesar want to pick you up right then and trail to the nest. But, reservation was preserved, as it so often did.

“Starving.” You finally admitted with a bashful smile and licked your lips. “Don’t know where to start.”

“Berries are good.” Caesar commented hap-hazardly, delving a bit into the small talk that he knew Humans enjoyed, knew you enjoyed because it drew on your most basic instinct of belonging. He wanted that - for you to feel like you belonged, in fact, that was the entire basis of getting you to come join him for a meal. Just one, and if he felt it went well, there would be another, and then another.

You nodded at that. Berries are good. So, that’s where you started as you picked between them and placed a blueberry in your mouth, Caesar watching with great interest from between the focus on his own food and the floating eyes from his son as you placed it on the tip of your tongue first before bringing it into your mouth with a delectable chew.

Caesar giving you gifts/tokens. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

It had been an incredibly long day - and it was one of those days where when one thing went wrong, the dominos began to fall and everything was coated in sour feelings. You had bumped your forehead rolling out of your hut this morning, forgetting that the doorway was smaller than your height, understandably so. Apes often walked on all fours, why would they need a doorway that gave enough clearance for an upright human?

The only place with that here was Caesar’s nest, perched high above the rest. It gave a sense of coziness, until you rammed your head against it. Every feeling in your body from that moment onwards just told you to stay home, that you’d be less of a detriment there than out with the hunt party that was departing at dawn. There was no sustenance to eat- you ended up at the Colony bonfire for breakfast too late. Only a few lingering berries remained, maybe an apple that had a bite taken out of it. Your horse refused to comply with your commands, almost biting your fingers off when you brushed your fingers a bit too close to their muzzle and looking at that now in self-reflection, she probably hated that you were in such a downward mood and sensed to play off of it and lastly, you had stepped in a puddle and the worn nature of your boots caused water to seep and linger on the wool socks you had on.

Grunting quietly to yourself as you trailed back towards your small home after arriving back from the hunt was more egregious; you just felt incredibly sore from sitting on your horse for most of the day, watching as the Apes embarked on a hunt. The grace of which you had never seen. They took to the skies from the trees, getting the advantage of pure silence as they were able to sign amongst each other when prey was spotted. They took to the ground, either on foot or on horseback, all encased in the vivid whitescape of their paint, some adornments of blue and red splashed against the most prestigious.

Caesar’s was red, the detailing on his face and down the center of his chest caught your attention right away but you tried not to linger too adamantly on that and figured you’d have time to obsess alone. And alone you were for most of the day. It was slow on your part- you found no human remnants to scour goods from, another thing to go wrong on a day that you didn't even want to be out of bed for.

Bringing a hand up, you lightly rested it against your shoulder and sighed to yourself, tendering the skin at the base of your neck with the pads of your fingers. Your horse had been given to Luca to place in the paddock, he must have sensed the sort of day it was from the way you dismounted the animal and grumpily handed him the reins. He did not say anything to you, but the kindness of his eyes spoke wonders as you had given him a slight smile before trailing off on your way. You just wanted to sleep and nothing more and your hut was only a few more paces away. The sweet victory of the idyllic nature of your nest was taunting you with its call. The warm animal pelts you had taken in, the knitted tight branches that were surprisingly buoyant when you shifted in your sleep. All things you wanted, all things you needed.

Your feet came to a slow stop against the slick rock underfoot as you rounded the corner towards your own hut, happily situated on the ground rather than floating up-above, as was the preference with Apes. Eyes widening in surprise at the basket in front of the entryway, you narrowed your gaze on it as you got closer, a bit afraid that perhaps Koba was playing a practical ( or cruel ) joke on you.

Upon further inspection with your eyes as you bent down to look at the contents, you deemed it safe and drove your fingers down to see what was in it. It was a simple wicker basket, but it wasn’t made by an Ape - you could tell from the fabrication and the glue that was holding some pieces together. Very obviously human, the Apes made better items than this. You imagined that, the idea of things like this being so mass-produced only ten years ago before the Flu took that away.

Lips parted as your fingers scaled the items in the basket and you were able to properly see what was inside, you felt a rather uncomfortable sensation lifting against your spine, upwards towards the base of your neck and then back downwards. There were… Human things in the basket. All human things. All things you enjoyed, a few bars of soap that were actually encased in original packaging, rare in this society. You looked at them, feeling tears hit the back of your eyes. Shampoo, conditioner. All things Apes wouldn’t understand, the vain essence of humanity holding and rearing its ugly head right against your chest at the fact that you had sorely missed these luxuries and you were going to savor them as long as you could. The last item - incredibly personal in nature.

Tampons.

You picked them up with vicious intent and peeled the box open. It was nearly full and you tilted your head back in pure relief, knowing that you could alternate between them and the cloths you had to be forced to use and re-wash when that time of the month came. There was only one Ape who had a vivid understanding of what it was used for which gave away the suspense of figuring out who had set the items out for you. These were given to you from the King himself; Caesar.

Jaw clenching tightly, you placed all the items back into the basket and lifted yourself up with the basket in tow as a few tears slid down from your eyes, across the barren nature of your cold cheeks and off the drop of your chin. You had no idea where he got ahold of these items, when he had split away from the pack he so often found himself surrounded by to go searching, but you were so incredibly grateful for them, the knowledge that you were able to hold onto a bit of yourself from before the Flu more evident now than ever.

Caesar paced himself on all fours, two or three meters away from you between the trees to make sure you got the items. There was no way for you to not deduce he was the one, there was just the added touch of assurance that you got the items that he was worried more about. He did see you look out, and for a split second, he thought his cover had been blown as you appeared to look right at him, but the nature of his fur catapulted him into a more camouflaged nature and he watched contently as you drifted into the hut you had made your home, arms full of the goods he was able to supply.

Caesar felt obscenely proud and selfishly so at the idea that these things would rocket him on your potential list of suitors. If you had one. If he oh so happened to even be included.

Caesar finally admitting to you his intentions / Forehead Touching for the first time. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

It was a remarkably clear day, the thought was only spurred by the sun that drifted downwards and captivated against the skin of your shoulders deliciously. Geographically, you were burdened with many foggy days, many days where the sun could not peek its head out from behind the clouds. But today? Not a problem as you tilted your head back and drew a deep breath in with shut eyes. The way your body moved, the rounded entrancement of your chest, exposed as you were only wearing a light t-shirt, caught the attention of Caesar right away.

He had been so used to the fall and winter months where you were layered beyond belief - an undershirt, over shirt, long sleeve shirt, sweater and jacket. So many layers for him to dismantle when he was left to his own devices in a certain mood. Seeing you like this, the caress of your body against the thin-fabric of the worn out shirt was more than a sight to behold for the Ape next to you. There was a symbol faded against the fabric, lost to time Caesar figured.

The meadow you had so graciously decided to stop and have lunch at on your way back to the Colony from a day spent scouring some human desolations was open for what seemed like miles on all sides. It was happily flushed with lush green grass, dandelions that were just now beginning their transformations from yellow to a pillowing white, wild flowers sprung in patches against your forearms as you rested back against them in a bid to get more sun to soak into your pores. Caesar, as diligent as ever, looked down at you with eyes that could rival the shrubbery in color and elegance.

You smiled at him briefly, bringing a hand up to shield your eyes, your arm grazed along his as you put yourself into position to look up at him without blinding, the rest of your weight fell onto your one supporting forearm. “Seems like so long ago,” That was softly said, as soft as the breeze that touched the most delicate flowers and rattled their petals.

Caesar couldn’t look away from you, could not focus on anything but the way you were speaking to him, your eyes unable to be detected from behind the shielded nature of your outstretched arm and he was left with the delectation of your lower face, your jaw which he wanted nothing more than to bite along, your mouth which he wanted nothing more than to urge and please in a bid for you to say his name. “The days when the sun didn't stop.”

He knew what you were alluding to. The Rise itself and the infraction that humans had to associate that with the ever encompassing wilderness that took its hollow place. There was no argument to be made from Caesar though, the sun did seem to shine so endlessly in the memories he had of his human life.

“Do you… think about them often?”

Your eyes shut and you rested your head back onto the ground in contemplation. It was always a loaded question from Caesar. He asked you when he felt you were being reminded of that time and the answer always depended on how you felt in those moments. Sometimes it was a very flat and honest ‘yes’, sometimes it was a more forlorn and yearned ‘no’, and sometimes? There wasn’t any verbal answer and you just hummed a response, not wanting to answer because there was nothing to truly answer.

You would always think about them, sure, but that did not mean you missed the all encompassing position it was to be a human. The cruelty far outreached the good in most cases and it left an incredibly guilt-ridden emotion to linger along the base of your neck, like a pulled muscle you couldn’t tenderize back into compliance.

“Don’t you?” You finally retorted, Caesar drawn back at the action in your voice. You hadn’t ever answered his posed question like that before.

“Used to a lot,” He admitted without hesitance, “Soon after finding the Woods, establishing,” Caesar gestured broadly. He was talking about the Colony itself. “Thought of them a lot.”

You drew into his words with such passion, reaching for anything he was willing to tell you about that time in his life and how it led him to this moment. Taking a deep breath into your lungs, you savored the smell of honeysuckle mixing with Caesar’s waft, so crisp like the river water but musky like the ground of the woods after a clear rain. Consequentially, when you finally looked up at him and caught eyes, yours were widely dilated from the pure draw of his essence. “Did it hurt to leave them?”

Caesar seemed to contemplate that for more than a moment, his head tilting to the side and brows relaxing with the thoughts running through his strategic mind. How you wanted to bury yourself into his brain just to capture a glimpse of his outrageously confident and skilled thought-process. It still rattled you to your core this day when you thought about it for too long.

“Yes.”

A strict admittance, but you expected nothing less from him. “I thought… it would kill me.” Pushing yourself into a seated position instead of resting on your back, your gaze fell on the King and you found yourself tracing the smoothened lines under his eyes and how they always appeared to make his expression sad and tired. Maybe he was, you had no way to know unless he explicitly told you how he was feeling. Rare in and of itself.

“But, then… Cornelia… My… Son…” He nodded to himself and shut his green eyes in a contemplative melancholy, almost hypnotic state like the memories he was remembering where pulling his entire soul back to the moments they happened. “I would not be here had… had I not left… them behind. We… Ape...” There was a sudden flicker of heat in his gaze when he opened his eyelids and looked towards you, captivating your view with pure and undiluted strength and confidence in his answers.

“Would not be here. All… I have ever wanted,” He was marked with emboldened taste as he raised a hand to place it against your cheek. Not the first time you had him touch you, though certainly it was the first time he put intentional thought and provocation behind it. “Here. Now.”

His fingers were incredibly thick, one of them in diameter equaled two of your own. The strength at which he held the side of your face, your head tilting towards the warmth of his open palm as your eyelids drooped to a slow shut, told you wonders of what lay underneath. Caesar was undoubtedly holding back, the knowledge that he could touch you and cause bruises more than catering to his subconscious desire to tear you bit by bit just to get more of you. “Why… think about the past…”

His speech was slower but the words he was picking up from you to complete more coherent statements was remarkable in the time you had known each other. His fingers had drifted inwards ever so slightly, a centimeter apart until he had encapsulated your bottom lip with his thickened thumb. You swallowed with action, bringing your head forward and with a rush, Caesar had his forehead against your own and the back of his hand was embracing the back of your skull to keep you close. “When we have future?”

Caesar being protective / Defending You. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

It was difficult to describe. The way that Caesar looked at you, his hands splayed with blood when he went to cup the side of your face to keep it steady, the bloodied hand print adorned the usually smooth and loved nature of your skin. Frantic, the way his eyes split between your fluttering lids, the way that he looked at your lips before bringing his face close to feel the air coming from them. Alive, that action said. Lulling your head to the side, you found it difficult to maintain the stance your neck had to stay upright. You looked at Caesar for a second in a gartered haze, your eyes blurring to focus with intent. Swallowing softly, you narrowed your gaze but could not find it in yourself to centralize on any focal point.

Your head lulled back, your vision blurred.

Snapping yourself out of unconsciousness, you gasped when you felt your body weight leaving the ground but you couldn’t do anything about it, not even struggle to get a grip on whatever, or whomever was picking you up, one arm was resting against your chest, the other sprung out to the air as you were hoisted upwards. The fur that stuck to the fabric of your cargo pants, usually such a treat against your bare skin, was starch with a mixture of blood and rain water.

Your head lulled back, your vision was flushed with red.

You could see Koba, at least you thought in whatever drift of awareness you found yourself in. Smiling, it almost looked like as he signed a rather vague ‘weak human’. A body next to him--- You groaned to yourself at the approximation of his stance, the pure sweep of aggression he had against his fellow brother, gait intimidating and wide, staring Koba down with the intensity of what had to be the sun. Movements, you couldn’t pick them apart. The two Apes became a tanglement of nothing but arms and legs scratching into the air, scratching at each other and your mind was unable to dictate them apart from each other as it became one continuous blur of darkened fur. You could have sworn you yelled his name, telling him to stop but that was tangled in the actions of you being carried away.

Something wet against your temple. You wanted nothing more to get rid of the aggravation that the sensation caused as it dripped from the side of your head into your hair and bunched the strands together but your arms weren’t complying with your brains commands to move. Words were fluttering around you, rumbling in nature like the thunder that would shake the Earth during a storm.

Koba. Pushed. Hit head.

You got that and you were suddenly placed against what felt like stone. Cold and smooth, there weren’t divots poking their way into your body, but the burning from your head made you wonder if you were even comprehensive enough to know that or if you were floating off into oblivion. Intentionally smoothed, you thought to yourself and laughed at that, trying to feebly hold onto brittle consciousness. The comfort of a smooth rock, the rock itself being harder than anything else against the curvature of your spine. With swiftness, you were being analyzed. Your head, primarily. A set of hands, calloused around the edges, were cradling your neck before aiming to place a cloth against the right side of your temple. You groaned at that, squeezing your eyes shut as it came almost flooding back to you in waves.

You had been sitting with Caesar, Blue Eyes, Maurice… Rocket, Ash, you felt silly like you were naming the entire Colony but there was one more scarred face that no matter how many times you were encountered with it, left you chilled to your spine from the lack of empathy every shown towards him and the hatred that seeped through, even through his one milky eye. Koba. The eternity of Caesar’s closest council… You had been there.

Smacking your lips, you tried to open your eyes all the way but the sting of liquid in them caused you to squeeze them shut as the presumed wound on the side of your head was being tendered by the beautiful adorned staff of Female Apes whom had knowledge to treat, primitive as the methods were to you at times. Caesar had… asked you to be there, at the meeting itself, the topic was what to do about the Human Colony in San Francisco. He figured maybe you could give good introspective advice given you were a human.

Something… God, your memory was blurred in a heated frenzied chase to remember the smaller notions of how you ended up with a head injury. Something was said, something Koba didn't agree with - you cracked your fuzzy mind but there was nothing you said that could have been said that would cause Koba to lash out and blatantly attack you. Not in front of Caesar, at least. He was aggressive around you, but he was also incredibly coy.

The room came to a halt, cloth pressed against your temple and swiped away the blood before ceasing as heavy thudded footsteps radiated through the small hut you were warmly encased in. Or the warmth was coming from your body's natural response to being hurt, you had no idea but it felt good enough as you urged your eyelids open for a split second. Caesar.

There was a rush of signing between the King and the other Apes in the room, and with one last glance at you, they dissipated, almost into the air behind Caesar as he sauntered forward, the prickle of his fur on edge still, blood on his hand but now? There was blood casing around his nose, downwards and against his thinned lips, into his mouth and splattered along his teeth.

Guilt surged in you, “Kob- You- Attacked---” Whatever you were trying to say was hushed as Caesar grasped the side of your head, gently this time and tilted so he could get a better view. “‘M okay. Just…” You made a clicking sound with your tongue, “Bonk.”

“Injury like this…” Caesar chuffed, trying so desperately to stop his heart from flying right out of his chest and going back to finish the job with one of his most trusted advisors, “Can… be bad for humans.”

You shut your eyes when he put your head back upright. The primal perception was washing off of Caesar like it was a deep revelation. It was almost smothering, the way that he grasped for the cloth and began cleaning your wound himself, eager to see just how much damage there was in some attempt to bid his time rather than lashing back at Koba for what had been done. “Ape,” His voice was nothing more than a low surge against you, “Do not kill Ape, but…”

There were no buts, you wanted to say as you squeezed your eyes shut when he placed the cloth against a rather tender spot. He pulled back adamantly, and moved forward to work another spot in your hairline and further into your hair. He knew, oh how he knew that you were going to complain about the dried blood in your hair, subconsciously Caesar found himself drawn to cope with that before you really became aware of it.

“Koba… wanted to prove… Human weaker than Ape… Should attack them. Pushed you to show,” Caesar gritted his teeth together and you swore you could hear the friction from inside of his mouth. It was evident in the stiffening of his body language that he was beating himself up for not being able to react fast enough to the situation, “Hit head on rock. Blood,” His voice hushed into a minor but hard whisper, “everywhere. Had you carried off… Before… ”

He didn't bother continuing on that train. It was dead and gone as far as Caesar was concerned, not wanting now to recollect how perfect it felt to have his hands against Koba’s threat when in the surge of a protective instinct that washed over him at the mere sight of you on the ground, unconscious. Caesar cradled your head with surprising gentleness and you found yourself relaxing right into it. The action itself spoke wonders of his true, deeply ingrained feelings. Mate, the hold said, my mate.

“We are weaker.” You laughed out, finally snapping yourself into a more lucid state. You suspected a concussion, but there was no clear way to know as you finally got your eyes to stay open and focused on the green and gold nature of Caesar’s irises. So close to your own, you could swoop up and kiss him if that was your desire. He only chortled in response to your words, knowing that joking was often used as a way to cope with messier situations.

“No,” Caesar reassured and brushed a hand through the other side of your head. Never with his fingers really ingrained in, but more like a mild petting of comfort, usually reserved for moments after climax when you had tangled against him in pleasure. “Koba… weak. You…” The Ape King took a deep breath in and let himself sink his head down to kiss his forehead lightly against yours, upside down. The captivation he had on you down to the minute detailing of his fur tickling under your nose always left you dizzying for more, and you were grateful that Caesar did not pull away this time and lingered, “You are my strength.”

[walkingstackofbooks]

I just want someone to ask Julian if it hurt, when he was enhanced.

You know, just for one of his friends to have really think about what having such drastic bodily changes might include, and what having the procedure done in a place without Federation medical standards might mean...

(Perhaps Keiko or Miles have a moment when they've taken Molly to the infirmary and Julian is reassuring her that it will only hurt a little bit--

Or Odo had been wanting to discuss Dr Mora with someone who might understand a little of what he went through, and ends up noticing that Julian seems to be relating to his past far more than he expected--

Or Ezri overhears some remark Julian makes to Sarina about how he goes his infirmary feels far safer than the ones their parents had left them in--

Or Garak realises why he doesn't feel like deriding the book that Julian has chosen this week, despite the fact that the plot of Matilda is absurdly ridiculous--)

...And maybe Julian would reply that no, it didn't hurt. There's no canonical evidence, as far as I'm aware, and his parents did find a 'decent doctor', after all.

But I think he'd get a funny, unfocused look in his eyes for a few moments, before saying, "No-one's ever asked me that before."

"And? Did it?" they might ask softly, a little unsure if they actually want to hear the answer.

And Julian would frown: appearing puzzled, though, rather than troubled.

"Of course," he'd reply. "I'd thought that was obvious."

[andi-o-geyser]

everyone say thank you subtitle team

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

「 sugar & spice au 」

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, pornstar!ari levinson, pornstar!lloyd hansen, pornstar!nick fowler, pornstar!lee bodecker, dilf neighbour!andy barber, friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes

polls for this au: 1 | 2

101, an intro to the au | masterlist | join my taglist 

blushing birthday

pop that cherry

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[puck-luck]

sunrise celebration | luke hughes

warnings: slight somno, but everyone is awake for the actual celebration. oral, m!receiving. established relationship. praise. hair pulling. fingering. unprotected p in v. cockwarming. riding. multiple rounds (alluded to, not necessarily included in the actual fic). creampie. lazy morning sex and makeouts and all that good stuff. happy birthday luke! pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader summary: luke's girlfriend wakes him up with one of many, many birthday presents. wc: 1805

You wake at quarter to seven with Luke beside you. He’s breathing evenly, laying on his back with an arm under your neck and the other resting on his chest. He’s shirtless, like always. He’s snoring slightly, twitching in his sleep, and you pick yourself up a bit so that you can get a better view of your serene-looking boyfriend.

You place your hand on his stomach, smoothing over the sculpted skin. He’s been working out so much lately, trying to build himself up into a “unit” (as Jack has been calling him all summer) ahead of his second full season with the Devs. Your pinkie traces over the tip of his happy trail, the dark strip of hair a favorite of yours. You admire him for a while. With the light coming through the window in his room, Luke reminds you of an angel.

When you look at the clock, you remember that it’s officially his birthday. 

Your hand is still on his stomach, fingers still petting over his happy trail. Now though, your hand is going lower, to the waistband of his underwear. You don’t dip in yet, instead opting to trail your fingers daintily over his length. It’s mostly soft in his pants, only barely swollen from his typical morning wood, but he reacts when you touch him over the fabric. His cock jumps under your palm, seeming to seek you out.

You continue rubbing over him until he’s hard and leaking, his tip prominent as it strains against the wet patch of fabric. You use the pad of your index finger to stroke over his slit, bubbling out another drip of precum when you do. 

You smile, blinking lazily before leaning up and ghosting a kiss over Luke’s cheek. He bends his arm at the elbow, the one under your neck, just to keep you close. Even in his sleep, he always wants to keep you close. 

As you continue to touch him, he starts to stir. 

“What’re you doing,” Luke mumbles softly, voice riddled with sleep. His hand on his chest drifts down to where yours is, touching your wrist and stilling your movement.

“Happy birthday,” you whisper, nosing against his cheek. Luke turns his head to you and you kiss him sweetly, bad breath and all. “Happy, happy birthday.”

“Mm, thank you,” Luke hums, catching a strand of your hair between his fingers and twirling it. 

“Wanna give you a present,” you murmur, the heel of your palm scraping over his cock. You fit your fingers around his length and pump him over his underwear. 

A groan rips from Luke’s throat, more precum leaking from his tip. You imagine his cockhead is weeping and red and you really wish you could see it. 

You shift again, trying to shift down the bed without jostling Luke too much. You do, but he doesn’t seem to mind, just moving his hips so he’s in the middle of the bed. His hands go behind the back of his head, threading through his curls. He uses his hands as a rest, settling against the pillow so that he can look down at you. 

You dig your hands into the sides of his waistband, kissing down his stomach and abdomen until the curls at the base of his cock are revealed. It’s then that you nuzzle against the hair, kissing the point where his shaft meets his groin, a breath away from where his balls rest. You kiss over the tight skin as his length is revealed to you.

His tip is just as red as you thought it would be, and just as appetizing. You flick your tongue over the crown of his cock, then press a close-mouthed kiss to his slit. 

Luke barely breathes out a moan, his hand leaving his own curls to find the back of your head. He gathers your hair into a messy ponytail, cursing under his breath. “Fuck, baby,” he sighs as you circle your fingers around his base, holding him still.

You slide his cock between your lips, eyes fluttering shut as his weight settles on your tongue. You suck, creating a vacuum over his tip. 

“Fuck,” Luke curses more sharply, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. 

You chuckle when you pull away, pumping him and swiping your thumb over his slit with a graceful twist of your wrist. “Such a pretty cock, Lu. Wanna suck it all the time. Always need you in my mouth.”

Luke grins crookedly, then bites his lip. His eyes darken, still a little clouded with sleep. “Do I not fuck you enough, baby?” He teases. “You always need more, don’t you?”

“Just want to make my boy feel good,” you say innocently with a flutter of your eyelashes and another kiss to his cock. “My birthday boy.”

As you seal your mouth over his length again, bobbing your head as you take more of him in your mouth, Luke lets his eyes drift shut and the pleasure overtake him. His hand on the back of your head is a heavy weight, helping you swallow him down until your nose brushes his pelvis and the curls there. You gag around him, but remain there, drooling until his length is slick with your spit and his precum.

You relieve yourself after a moment, taking a breath and pumping him. Luke’s eyes remain closed, hanging onto sleep in your comfortable shared bed.

“Can we just stay here all day?” Luke asks, opening his eyes and blinking at you.

“My mouth might get tired,” you reply, giggling at the joke before taking him again.

Luke laughs too, dropping your hair to thumb over your hollowed cheek. “Just in bed, baby. That’s how I wanna spend my birthday. Being lazy with my pretty girlfriend.”

“Hm, we can rot after I make you come,” you agree. “And then I wanna make you come again with you inside me.”

“Gonna ride me?” Luke asks.

“Yeah, later, if you want me to,” you sigh dreamily, licking up Luke’s shaft. You reach up to bring his hand back to your hair, then you shuffle your hand down between your legs. You touch yourself over your underwear, feeling the way the fabric clings to your soaked folds. Sucking Luke always makes you this excited– he’s just that good.

“That’s it,” Luke moans. “Love watching you make yourself come. Touch your clit for me, baby.”

You obey, petting over your clit in time with the bobbing of your head. Eventually, Luke starts to shift his hips up and you release your grip on him, curving your hand over his hip and opening your mouth so that he can fuck up into it. You shift and run your fingertips through your folds, finding your entrance while your clit finds your palm. You rut your hips against the contact, filling yourself with two fingers. 

“Oh, baby,” Luke says, tossing his head back. “Always so good. Your mouth– oh. Fuck, wanna come inside you.”

He grips your hair and pulls you off, guiding you back up his body. He rolls you onto your back in the middle of the bed, pulling your t-shirt over your head and ducking his head down to take your nipple in his mouth. He sucks, biting down on the peak, then switching over to the other. All the while, he’s pushing your panties down and replacing your fingers with his own long ones.

He fills you with two, pumping them inside of you in a way that has you arching into his mouth. Luke hurries to kick his own underwear off, the blankets falling askew as he moves. His cock slides against your thigh, hard and dripping. It doesn’t take long for Luke to make you babble and clutch at his curls, begging for that length to fill you up with his cum.

Luke complies, whimpering out a gasp as you clench down on him. “Fuck, you’re tight,” Luke groans, unable to stop his hips from stuttering into yours. He’s well-endowed and he always fucks into your heat just right, able to make you come as quickly or as slowly as he desires.

The blowjob has him worked up, so this one’s quick. Luke is clutching at you desperately, kissing your lips and your neck until they’re swollen and splotchy with hickies respectively. He’s murmuring in your ear, a load of sweet nothings that have you whining and squirming beneath him, trying to hold off until he reaches his peak. It’s his birthday, you want him to come first.

“Baby, I’m close,” Luke chokes out. “I’m gonna come.”

His hips drive against you, shuddering with the effort to hold back. His thumb finds your clit, the pressure of his weight making you keen. He breathes into your mouth, panting. His eyes are wild as you find them, the eye contact making you that much more desperate. Luke presses his forehead against yours, his body blanketing yours.

“Fill me up,” you implore, holding him tight. Your fingernails dig into the muscles of his back, feeling them move as he bucks against you. 

Luke’s grunt is animalistic as his seed starts to spill into you, nothing between you. It’s exactly what you wanted, spurring your own climax on. Your body shakes, muscles tight as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Luke keeps fucking into you, biting his lip hard as the overstimulation sends a new rush of pleasure through him. He stays inside of you even as his cock softens, plugging you to keep his cum inside. He kisses your lips, then another. The series of kisses turns into a lazy tangle of tongues and hushed giggles, the occasional twitch of Luke’s cock inside of you until he starts to grow hard again as a side effect of your wandering hands. 

“Round two?” You ask between kisses.

Luke laughs and smiles, laying back and dragging you on top of him. You sit perched on his lap, cock pressing deep inside of you at this angle. You bring your hands up your body, a hand cupping your breast and the other moving through your hair in a stretch. He grins, eyes still hooded like he’s tired, and lets his hands fall to your asscheeks, kneading the skin there. He nudges you forward, guiding your circling hips. 

“This is going to be the best birthday ever,” Luke says.

“Oh, baby, you have no idea,” you promise. “We’re gonna do this all day long.”

“You’re gonna run me dry,” Luke jokes.

“Well, as long as you feel good, then I’ll have done my job.” You plant your hands on Luke’s abs and grin down at him, leaning low enough to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. “Happy birthday,” you sing. “I love you.”

Luke smiles against your lips. “Best birthday ever.”

notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LUKEY! I hope he enjoys his first legal drink in the U.S. and has a really good night :) sweet lukey deserves a sweet, fun birthday <3