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bicrackie · 5 months
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Bi-Crackie
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Website: https://www.bicrackie.com
Address: 3748 Mt. Vernon Drive, Lake Orion, Michigan 48360, USA
Bi-Crackie offers innovative, over-engineered, multipurpose landscaping tools designed to ease the task of weed removal and various outdoor activities. These tools, including the Bi-Crackie and Bi-Crackie Jr., are crafted in the USA with heavy-duty materials. They are designed to save time and reduce physical strain, making weed removal, trenching, spreading, and planting tasks quick, easy, and effective.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Bicrackie
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bicrackie
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bicrackieusa
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ranger-kellyn · 2 months
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i said it on my swiftie blog last but fuck it i'll say it here too bc i woke up still annoyed about it:
for a website that does a ton of bitching and moaning about media literacy and and saying all this "you all clearly didn't pay attention in high school english", funny how suddenly none of y'all know what a fucking metaphor is.
of course taylor wasn't literally raised in an asylum! the public eye is the inescapable asylum!
i think about all the genuinely shitty and harmful things i've said and done across all my nearly 30 years. i have said and done some awful shit, because i am an incredibly fallible person who was raised by incredibly fallible parents and relatives, raised in a fallible community (things i literally had ZERO choice in) and surrounded by incredibly fallible friends. i have hung around some horrible people who said and did horrible things.
if i had to learn everything i've learned all while under a microscope from the public-- yeah! i'd go fucking insane! i wouldn't last ten seconds in that!!
and i really reckon you wouldn't, either, because the unfortunately reality is we're all fallible. most of us just have the luxury of being complete nobodies
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oscill4te · 3 months
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maybe adderall and atomoxetine is the holy combo....
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bear-at-the-museum · 1 year
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tojipie · 8 months
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toji x crybaby reader <3
content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !
˚ ✧ ───────────
toji is a flawed man. 
short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.
he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear. 
you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.
his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.
he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.
you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him. 
he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.
it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.
it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?
he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge. 
instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.
you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands. 
physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.
his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.
toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.
you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul. 
he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words. 
“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours. 
“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”
and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.
he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over. 
the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.
you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.
toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start. 
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healcunt · 1 month
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thinking again about making a friend in college. maybe the same one as my last post, maybe a new one, but either way, she’s a psychology major. she invites me over to her place, we chat and smoke a little, and she tells me she’s super stressed about a test she has next week.
“what’s it on?”
“hypnosis.” i feel my cunt clench around nothing but i think i hide my arousal well. i know hypnosis is real, and the kink is just a small aspect of it, but it still makes me a little bit wet.
“oh.” is all i say.
“i really need practice, but none of my friends will let me hypnotize them.” she pouts at me. “i really really need to pass, can you let me hypnotize you just a little bit?”
“uh.” the weed is clouding my brain and the way she’s looking at me doesn’t make it any easier. “just a little bit, sure.”
she grins at me. “thank you!” she exclaims. she sits up on her knees and has me look directly into her eyes as she pulls out a pocketwatch. “i was really hoping you’d say yes.”
i try my best not to shift my legs too much as i feel my cunt start to drip more and more. she swings the watch in front of my face, and as she instructs me, i get sleepier and fuzzier. i don’t remember falling asleep, but i do remember waking up. she’s still smiling at me.
“oh, sorry,” i start. “i must’ve not slept well last night. can we try again?” she cocks her head slightly.
“i already hypnotized you, silly!” i blink at her.
“am i hypnotized now…?” she laughs.
“no, do you want to be?”
i plan to say no, but a “yes” comes out of my mouth instead. i think nothing of it.
she grabs my chin, tilting it down, and as i’m staring into her lap, i see a tent forming in her leggings. my jaw drops open, as if on a hinge, and i can’t close it. i can’t even bring my hand up to force it closed. i can’t take my eyes off of her cock, i can only watch.
“lick.” she instructs, and i do. i lunge forward, licking her hard cock through her leggings, desperate to taste her precum, to make her feel good. i find myself inhaling deeply, getting dizzy on the scent of her. “stop.” my mouth is still open, still holding her in my mouth, but i can’t move again. “good puppy.” an orgasm suddenly shoots through me, forcing me to moan on her cock. it takes a full thirty seconds to subside, and the aftershocks leave me breathless.
she grasps my hair with one hand, pulling me off of her and uses her other hand to shut my jaw. “show me your tits.”
i’m suddenly able to move my body, but not able to control my movements. i pull my shirt off as quickly as i can, throwing it somewhere. i don’t turn my head to see where it lands, it isn’t important. i unhook my bra and throw it in the same general direction. i don’t just show her my tits, i cup them in my hands and pinch my nipples hard as if i’m offering them to her. “good puppy.” the same intense orgasm shoots through me, but this time i continue to pinch and unpinch my nipples as i cum. she laughs at me, and my clit twitches.
“you went down really easy, you know?” i stare at her, scared but more turned on than i have ever been in my life. “and you told me all about your hypnosis kink. god, you look so innocent, i never would’ve guessed you rub your cunt to things like this. can you show me how?”
i take one hand off my tits and quickly move it under my skirt, under my soaked underwear. i rub feverishly, feeling my brain get cloudier and cloudier as i get closer to my orgasm. “don’t cum.” my hand stills. i don’t even get to ruin, the almost-orgasm lingers. “clean your fingers.” i don’t want to, but it doesn’t matter what i want. i pull my fingers out of my underwear and push them into my mouth, fucking them into my own throat ever so slightly and swirling my fingers around them until they’re covered in my spit.
she puts her hands behind her head and leans back on a chair, spreading her legs. “suck me off.” my eyes widen slightly. i’ve never sucked a cock before, and i doubt being hypnotized is going to make me into an expert cocksucker. she raises her eyebrows.
regardless of my thought, i find myself taking my hand out of my mouth and off my tit and pulling her leggings down to her ankles. her giant cock slaps her stomach as it’s freed, spreading a small amount of precum that makes my mouth drool. “you can clean me first, if you want.” i really, really do and i don’t think it’s the hypnosis. i put my hands on either of her hips and desperately lap up the semen on her happy trail before i wrap my lips around her tip and lick her urethra, lapping up any precum she gives me.
“throat.” i can’t even react as my jaw opens so widely it almost hurts and i lurch forward until her head is halfway down my throat, my nose in her bush. she moves one of her hands to hold my head down, although i don’t think she needs it. my tongue moves slightly up and down her shaft as she gently fucks my throat, barely thrusting. she starts moving faster and breathing more heavily after a few minutes, and when she’s about to cum, she pulls out of my throat and uses the hand gripping my hair to make me look up.
my eyes are still open as she jerks herself off to finish, painting ropes of thick cum across my face. she narrowly misses my eyes, although i don’t think she missed on purpose. once her balls stop twitching, she lets go of my hair. “freeze.” i can barely breathe, much less move, as she lazily walks across the room to grab her phone. she takes at least a dozen pictures of me, some with the flash on, some with it off, and for the last one, she lays her cock across my face. she takes her time finding the angle for that one.
“you can clean me up again.” i can move again. i don’t wrap my lips around her whole cock this time, only around the thickness of her shaft as i use my tongue to scrub as much of her cum off as i can. i lick the sweat off of her balls, and lick any excess cum off of her tip. “good puppy,” she tells me again as i finish. my eyes flutter closed with this orgasm, hitting me harder than the first two.
she pushes me back on the ground as i finish cumming, tilting my chin up again so i am forced to look in her eyes. “i’m going to snap my fingers, and you’re going to fall back asleep. when i snap my fingers a second time, you’re going to wake up. you’re not going to remember any of this until i want you to. you’re hypnotized by my cock, nabi. you’re helpless against me and it makes you wet. when you see my cock, you will fall back under. when you think of my cock, you will edge and tell me about it. you will never remember how deeply you are hypnotized until your mind is under my power.”
she snaps her fingers, and my eyes shut. i drift into a dreamless sleep immediately. i can feel a washcloth on my face, but it’s distant from me. i feel my bra hook around my chest again, and feel the fabric of my shirt go around my neck, chest, torso. she snaps her fingers again and i completely forget everything that happened.
“so?” she asks as my eyes flutter back open. “how do you feel?”
“um…” i trail off, trying to think if anything feels different. “the same?”
she pouts. “you don’t feel well-rested?”
i think a little bit harder and realize i do feel more energized, better than i usually do after a full night of sleep. “oh! i do, i feel like i slept for eighteen hours.” she beams at me.
“it worked! i might actually pass my test! would you let me practice on you more before i have to take it?”
the thought of being hypnotized is still too much of a turn-on for me, so i open my mouth to let her down easy. but what comes out of my mouth instead is “of course! this was really fun!”
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the-100th-witch · 1 year
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Some musings and rambling
So, I'm taking a break from weed for this month (or at least me buying it lol) since I've been slacking off and I want to go back to having weed being a reward rather than just something i do bc i have it (never gonna quit it lol it's too fun) but I had a system when I had a job (weed on the weekend to have fun and not during the work week bc i would want to stay up and then that would fuck up the next day)
So this is kinda like my reset month.
I just work better when I have a set routine. Once I have no routine (like during summer back when I was in school) I would just be all over the place. I would fuck up my sleep schedule, I didn't really get high much in college unless it was social, and the same with alcohol but I was online too much.
I think it comes from my family having an addictive trait. My mom and sister are very into alcohol that I hate it. My dad is an alcoholic. I never had a problem with alcohol or weed (when I had a set routine but I don't like...crave it. but if I have no routine and I just have it I will just take it lol like why not?) but being on the internet (watching youtube or social media is a problem). From 19 to onward haha
I would say I'm more addicted to raising my dopamine levels and maybe adhd but I need to get tested. My mom has it so it's possible but it could be an attention thing. I've always done well in school but I had a set routine and a syllabus lol
I think I'm gonna do a limit on the "work weeks" and have less of a limit on the weekend. So, now my new routine would be:
Mon - Fri: no social media or youtube (unless it's something related to work) If i do it's only 10 mins allowance
Fri night, Sat, Sun (cut off 6pm): can go wild with youtube/ social media/etc
Let's see if this reset month and this new "routine" re-focuses me. What I also need is discipline. Haven't figured that out yet lol
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aaagustd · 11 months
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and my man, thank you to my man | jjk
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pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader
genre/rating: smut, mature/explicit
warnings: he’s not her sugar daddy but… he pays her bills, fingering, p*ssy eatting, slight Dom/sub undertones, begging, denied orgasms, jungkook is a dealer so there's some stuff about that, hating a** roommate, most of this is a flashback
wc: 757
release date: july 29th, 2023; 10:38 pm est
note: not edited bc i’m kinda trashy tonight lol. this is based on the latto meme/tik tok from her speech. “and my man, thank you to my man” lol. yeah, that one. anyway, another cute relationship drabble from me before i slip into my real writing style. honestly, these are just practice for me lol. div cr.
series m.list | main m.list | ao3 version
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“Wow. A new MacBook?”
With an eye roll, you brush off your roommate’s obnoxious teasing. Every time Jungkook buys you something she can’t wait to bring up that you’re fucking your weed man.
“Yup,” is all you reply.
But today she’s just got it out for you.
“Hm, how long were you on your knees for that one?” she smirks.
Instead of getting mad, you take a break from your work and sit back on the couch, gracing her with a mischievous smile. She has no idea how far off she actually is.
-
“You taste better when you’re desperate.”
Jungkook moans his words into your pussy, edging you closer to a long-awaited orgasm.
Your hands fist strands of his wavy hair, hanging on for your dear life as he continues to mercilessly sucks your pulsing clit.
“Fuck. Please let me cum. I can’t—”
Jungkook chuckles as he lifts his head. 
“You can cum, but you know what you have to give me first.”
Your withers and contorts within his hold, his strong arms pinning you down so you can’t run from him.
“Come on, baby. You can do it,” he coaxes.
There’s nothing sweet or innocent in his tone. It’s all driven by the eagerness to break you. Your stubbornness has always been his pet peeve, and he knows that you’re willing to lay here and suffer than give him what he wants.
“This isn’t fair!”
Your cries mean nothing to him as he teases you until you reach your peak, only to let the momentum fade away. Sweat begins to form on your skin, and your body begins to tremble with need. You’re close to giving in, but you still hold on with everything you have.
“Shit, Jungkook! Don’t you get tired?”
“Fucking right,” he scoffs. “Tired of your bullshit.”
You can feel his fingers tracing your slit, indicating your impending defeat. Once they slip into your pussy, he’ll control you like a puppet.
“Fuck,” you sob.
He shushes you, then dips his digits inside of you.
“I know, baby. Just let go. It’ll be alright,” he whispers.
Those words paired with the pads of his fingertips touching your spot leave you mumbling a breathless mess.
No longer caring about your pride — tears rolling down your cheeks — you utter the words he’s been expecting since earlier.
“I’m sorry!” you confess. “I should have told you.”
You can smell the satisfaction emitting from his body when he hears you speak. Only then does he take you to the finish line. Your body is taken over by a wave of hot pleasure, freezing your body where it lies on the messy sheets.
Jungkook praises your submission, and licks your sensitive cunt until there’s not a drop of arousal left over. Kissing his way up your exhausted body, he smiles as he reaches your lips.
“Was that so hard?” he teases.
“Shut up.”
When he lies beside you, you roll over and allow him to wrap his arms around you. He rests his chin on top of your head while he talks to you.
“Why are you scared to ask me for stuff?”
You shrug. “It’s not as easy as you put it.”
“I’m not the kind of guy that fucks you and leaves you to fend for yourself. The sooner you realize that the better, baby.”
“I know. It’s just taking me a while to get used to that,” you express.
“It’s all good. I just gotta do a better job at making you see how serious I am about you.”
-
But he didn’t need to. You understood once he said it. 
You can tell by his approach that it’s not about throwing money around. He does small things like checking your car for anything weird, asking about your day and actually allowing you to vent, and just being there mentally and emotionally; along with physically. 
Nobody is there for you like he is. He doesn’t just come in and fix the problem, he helps you figure it out and if you need help he offers.
He’s been to hell and back with you dealing with your old laptop, and he finally gave up on it yesterday. So no, you didn’t spend a second on your knees for it. But you will be on your knees tonight. 
Your poor miserable roommate will just have to rub her sour pussy to the sound of Jungkook getting his dick swallowed. 
“I’m glad you reminded me about that,” you beam. “He’s coming over tonight. I need to thank him for my gift.”
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.
AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3
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“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”
Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”
You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.
Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”
You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.
“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”
He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.
So fucking beautiful.
“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”
Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"
It's all I want. You think.
"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.
You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."
That's all I want. He thinks.
Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"
He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.
and it'll crush him.
The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."
"So?" He asks.
"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."
It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’
The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.
So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.
Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.
"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.
Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.
You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."
“Stop that.” He seethed.
It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.
Never with you.
Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.
"What--"
He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.
“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”
“Eddie…”
“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”
You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.
Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.
It’s overwhelming.
You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”
Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?
His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.
Fuck it.
“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.
You exhale his name, “Eddie,”
“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”
Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?
Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”
He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”
Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.
“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”
With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.
“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”
“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”
Warm warm warm.
It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.
Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.
There’s no one but you.
You’re everything.
I love you, please, let me love you.
Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.
“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.
Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”
You nod, “Yeah.”
It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”
“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”
He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”
Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"
He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.
"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."
You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."
Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.
"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.
Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"
A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.
You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."
You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"
You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."
Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."
"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."
He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.
"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."
"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.
You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.
"God, yes."
He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.
"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."
Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"
He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.
Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.
"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”
The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.
“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.
He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”
You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”
Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.
“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.
“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.
The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.
Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.
Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”
You’re both breathing heavy.
Now it’s his turn.
Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.
When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.
God damn...he's fucking huge.
"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"
Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.
"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."
"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.
You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.
"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.
His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"
You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.
"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.
Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.
Such a good girl.
Taking me so well.
My pretty girl.
Mine.
Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.
"Eddie, fuck, I--"
"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."
His words are like a spell.
You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.
"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"
You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."
"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.
He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.
"Hi." He says quietly.
You giggle softly, "Hi."
"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."
You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"
"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.
Nothing.
You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."
Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"
You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."
He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.
Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."
Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."
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thegnomelord · 3 months
Text
Imagine Intoxicated Sex With Ghost
CW:NSFW, MDNI, intoxicated sex (weed) Subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, safe/sane/consensual, smoking, playing with hands, anal, recreational drug use.
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Ghost doesn't like being inebriated. Even when out drinking with the lads at the nearest pub he'll never reach the point of intoxication where he can't drive a car or punch a man's lights out if he needs to. He saw what booze did to his pa, saw what the drugs did to Tommy, he doesn't want the Riley 'legacy' to dig it's roots into him — just the thought of it makes his stomach churn and his lungs feel like they're infested with black mold.
But sometimes when both of you are on leave, the battlefield miles away yet the lingering ache of it all filling his bones with static, he'll indulge in the weed his doc prescribed. It took him a while to be comfortable to use it, both with himself and you. But he trusts you, knows you won't do anything to him that you two hadn't agreed to prior; you're good for him like that.
Too good.
Making the blunt feels intimate in a way Ghost can't describe. The way you sit right next to him on the couch, both of you on even level, works to relax some of the usual tenseness in his spine. It's the careful glide of your knife along the cheap cigar to create a clean cut so you can empty the dried leaves into the trash that has his heart beating a little faster — then again, he's always liked the look of a knife in your hands and how precise you could be with it.
He'd die before he told you his thoughts, so he takes the empty cigar paper without a word and carefully measures how much of the weed he puts in, just a little shy of the recommended dose. He feels your nonjudgmental gaze on his fingers as he rolls the makeshift blunt, yours might be the only one that doesn't make his skin prickle with discomfort.
"You're getting better at that." You note. Ghost's blunt making skill isn't such a slop-job as it used to be when he first started doing this, but it's by no means pretty. "Practice some more and they might start looking half-assed."
"Sod off." The edge in his tone would cut deeper if he didn't bump his shoulder against yours. "At least I don't make 'em look like logs of shite."
"Mean." You tut but shoulder his weight without complaint and wrap an arm around his waist. He leans further on you until he ends up laying across your lap, his back pinning your legs down and his head resting on the couch arm, making himself comfortable like a cat in a sunning spot.
"What? Can't handle the truth?" He says, staring at the blunt in his hand. You don't rush him, sitting in comfortable silence with your hand loosely carding through his disheveled hair, fingers scratching his scalp and the soft blond strands curling at his nape for a few minutes while Simon prepares himself. You know he's ready when he pulls the face mask off his face, biting the end of the blunt between his teeth and turning his head towards you.
You reach to hold his jaw, the sensation of your fingers scraping against his stubble both electric and calming for him. With a small 'click' an equally small flame sparks at the tip of the lighter, the fire dances in his dark eyes as you hold it at the other end of the blunt until it's tip is ignited.
Simon holds the blunt with his fingers, eyes closing as he takes a deep and controlled breath. The smoke lazily crawls down his trachea to settle in his lungs, he holds his breath until there's a small tightness in his chest before breathing out just as slowly. It takes a couple more puffs before he can feel the vestiges of that lazy high begin to nibble on his nerves, eyes cracking open to look at your visage through the dancing smoke.
Weed takes the edge off life for him; the constant ache of his body is easy to forget when the pleasant buzz fills his skull, chest full of feathers and a deep floaty calmness settling in his bones. Only his spine feels weird, like his lower back is made of kinetic sand, muscles tensing and relaxing but even that works to calm him down, ground him to the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair.
When a low grunt escapes him you lean down, plucking the blunt from his lips to kiss him. This kiss isn't rushed like most of your intimacy needs to be — you have all the time in the world. Ghost opens his mouth and hums into the kiss, the taste of weed on his tongue as he lazily licks into your mouth and along your teeth, lingering whisps of smoke escaping through the crack of both of your lips.
You part so he can take another drag of the blunt, your warm lips leaving chaste kisses on his forehead, nose, eyebrows, cheeks, eyelids when he flutters them shut, and anywhere where you can reach. From the corner of his eye he sees you turn the Tv on, setting some cartoon on a low volume to further ease him into the mental space of calmness. Then your free hand reaches to loosely hold his own free hand, your thumb tracing the scars on the back of his hand.
Your hands don't wander any lower, letting him feel your warmth while he lazily finishes his blunt until it's gone. "You alright Si?" You ask.
"Like a hog in shite." He manages, tilting his head to further lean into your hand that's scratching his scalp. It's something he loves about you — the slow approach you like to take with him. Not just jumping straight to sex, though that's fun too, but sitting there with him, letting him ramble about who knows what while you two watch some shite cartoon, giving him sweet kisses when his hand tugs on your shirt.
It makes Simon's heart feel like it could leap from his chest if his ribs weren't in the way. Fuck, at times like these he could probably spill his heart out to you if the weed didn't line his tongue with lead. He still tries in his own way, taking your hand that's holding his and starting to play with your fingers. Following the lines of your palm with his thumb, curling your fingers and laying sloppy kisses along your knuckles, humming contently when you hold his jaw loosely and scrape your thumb against his stubble.
Simon doesn't know when he gets aroused. Only that one moment he's not, and by the time you two part from another lazy kiss he's tenting his sweatpants.
"Hey," Simon grunts, holding your hand by the wrist as he nibbles on your finger. "Want you."
"You already have me." You snort.
Even high as a kite Simon's not all too pleased with your humor, nipping your finger just at the edge of pain. "Smart arse." His lips follow his teeth to soothe the bite with a small kiss. "Want your cock."
Straight to the point, that one.
A small laugh escapes you, "Alright, alright." He grumbles like a bear roused from hibernation when you have him sit up. He grips your shirt to demand one more kiss from you, your lips distracting him so he doesn't notice when you pick him up. The face he makes is hilarious, like a dog that thinks he's too heavy to be picked up.
But he gets over it quickly, large arms wrapping around your neck to hold onto you as you stumble to the bedroom. A breath escapes him when you lay him down on the bed and he doesn't let go, resulting in you tumbling into bed on top of him. The curse you let out when you fall on him makes him giggle like a school boy.
He's absolutely no help when you try to take his clothes off, laying there like a sack of potatoes and only occasionally wriggling in place. Simon gives you an annoyed look and a chiding "Why'r you so slow?" when you have him lift his hips so you can slide his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. His cock bobs against his belly, a tiny drop of precum smearing against his skin.
"Because you're no help." You grunt, quickly taking your own clothes off. "Seriously Si, you're like trying to move a mountain."
But you don't mind him being like this. You love it, and you love him when he just huffs something under his breath and flops over on his front. He spreads his legs, his hard cock laying between his thighs and his hole just peeking out from between his cheeks. "Mhm," Humming Simon hugs the pillow, nuzzling his cheek into it as he gives you a lazy look, his pupils blown wide and eyes puffy. "Sounds like an excuse t'me."
Even with you it took him a while before he could turn his back to you like this, trust you like this.
"Fuck Simon, look at you." Gently you push another pillow under his hips to hike them up and the way he arches his back to grind his cock against it has your breath stuttering in your chest. You can't keep your hands off him, gingerly massaging the back of his thighs as you slowly trail up, purposely skipping over his ass to dig your thumbs into his lower back. "Gorgeous."
Simon lets out a slow breath as your fingers make the muscles relax, eyes closing and his back rippling as he melts into the sheets. "Well aren't you a charmer." His voice is mumbled into the pillow and the small wiggle of his ass he does to entice you is cute as hell. "C'mon." He nags, throwing the harshest glare he can at you. "Fuck me already." He demands, but he doesn't try to get up from his position, content to just lay and have you listen to his commands.
That's another thing side of Ghost you only see when he's high as a kite — he likes being a pillow prince, to give you orders and rest easy knowing you won't do anything he doesn't want. If it doesn't make your heart melt, that he trusts you like that, you don't know what will.
"Alright, alright," You placate him by finally groping his ass while you grab the lube on the nightstand with your other hand. You squirt a generous amount on your hand and warm it up between your fingers, settling between his legs in a way you can lay kisses along his spine while you slowly circle your fingers around his hole. You reach around with your other hand to lazily stroke him, the lube making the glide of your hand smooth and pleasant.
He's more vocal like this, a low half moan leaving him as Simon closes his eyes. Usually the feeling of a body looming over his back would have him tensing and bearing his teeth, but all he does now is breathe in and relax, muscles tensing for a fraction of a moment when your fingers breach him before he relaxes again. Simon's arms tense to hug the pillow tighter, the soft material muffling the soft moans and deeper grunts you pull from his chest with every small movement of your finger.
It's impossible for you not to tease him. "You like that, sweet prince?" But your tone is light and loving, pushing your finger deeper and distracting him from the small hints of pain the stretching of his muscles brings by stroking his cock more firmly, thumbing his cumhole.
Simon moans unabashedly and nods, biting the pillow and worrying it between his teeth when you push another finger inside him. "Mhm," He doesn't deny it. He can't deny it when the weed in his system makes the pleasure 10 times stronger, the usual electric pleasure now slowly replacing the marrow in his bones as your fingers twist and curl against his slick walls. "So good fer me." He mumbles.
Simon feels like he's floating on a cloud; Each kiss along his spine makes small shivers race down his limbs, the coldness of you pouring more lube over his hole complementing the heat of your hand around his cock, his drool soaking into the pillow and the sweetest sounds escaping him as you stretch him out. His cock leaks a constant stream of precum, his hips occasionally giving minute twitches to fuck into your hand but he's too relaxed to do more than that.
"Ready?" You ask when you think he's stretched enough, slowly pulling your fingers out of him. His hole clenches around nothing, dollops of slick lube escaping past his rim and running down his heavy balls; neither him nor his body is happy about the sudden lack of stimulation.
"Hurry." He orders, cracking an eye to watch you from the corner of his eye as you trail kisses up his spine until you're draped over him, catching his lips in a sloppy kiss while you lube your cock and line yourself up.
He moans into your mouth when the tip of your cock pops into him. "Fuck, yes lovie- just like that. . ." Your name sounds like honey on his tongue as you slide in deeper. His muscles contract and relax with each inch you push into him until he's left panting against the pillow when your balls finally rest against him. He's so hot around you, slick and pliant and trusting, blindly seeking you out for another kiss as you both adjust to the new position.
"Good?" You lazily stroke his cock again, feeling his back muscles ripple against your front as the pleasure washes over his system.
"Perfect." He moans and rolls his hips into your hand, simultaneously fucking himself onto your cock. "Move."
"Yes sir." You grin. You keep the pace slow and loving, a continuous and slow roll of your hips making your cock drag against his prostate. Reaching out to hold his free hand you rock your hips to meet his own movements. Each slow scrape of your cock against his walls has him whimpering, an occasional sharp thrust earning you a pleased moan, the pillow muffling the little breathy 'ah- hah-hm- ah' he makes when you grind your cock as deep as it'll go while rubbing his shaft.
Pleasure continues to build in his body, muscles tensing and relaxing, every single thought melting out of his skull save for your name that he moans like a prayer, your loving movements slowly and steadily turning Simon into a pile of goo. He doesn't even notice when he cums, it rushes through him like lightning striking a tree, pearly cum spurting over your hand as he shouts a loud "Fuck!".
You slow down only for a few seconds, long enough for him to come down from his high and begin grumbling and whining, showing you that he's nowhere near reaches his limit despite his cock softening in your hand. So you indulge his gluttonous side, starting to slowly thrust into him as you stroke his soft shaft. You cum eventually, his hole greedily clenching around you as you shoot your cum inside him and then keep going on fucking him until his voice becomes hoarse from screaming your name.
By the time you two are well and truly done you're both wrung dry, a sizable puddle of cum formed beneath his cock and his hole loose and lax, trying to clench around your cock and the cum you fucked deep inside him.
You use what sense you have in your skull that hadn't melted through your cock to roll you to over on the side so he's not laying in his own cum. Simon grunts when you attempt to pull out, gripping your hand as tightly as his relaxed muscles can until you get the message and lay back down, spooning him with your cock still deep inside him.
And fuck, the buzz of weed and pleasure from sex has him so loose and relaxed you could do anything to him and he wouldn't object. But you don't, simply cuddling up against his back and kissing his sweaty nape.
He loves you for that. He loves that he can trust you. He doesn't know when the last time was when he was this relaxed. A small giggle escapes him and he tilts his head back so you can lay kisses on his neck.
"Love you too Si." He hears you mutter against his ear before he falls asleep. And for the first time since the last time you two did this, does he sleep without the nightmares of a cold grave and a burning home haunting his dreams.
Tag list: @dead-end-stuff
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Text
Cw: degradation, weight gain, health snark, force feeding
“Hey, can we talk to you for a minute?” your roommates Ashley said. You two, as well as two other friends from high school all lived together in a rental house near campus. She seemed like she was irritated, which was concerning. When she was in a good mood, she was the most fun to be around, but she could be a real bitch when she was mad. You finished chewing your burger and wiped your hands before replying.
“Yeah, of course. What’s up?”
“Have you been doing okay lately?”
“Yeah, I’ve been great actually. I feel better than I have in a long time,” you replied. You knew what this was about but you had to feign ignorance as long as you could.
“We just…noticed a few changes in your behavior lately and a few of the other girls were getting concerned. That’s all.” She wasn’t budging. You needed to get out of this quick.
“Thank you for checking on me, but I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes. There wasn’t going to be an easy way out of this.
“Oh really, then what’s going on here.” She said pinching your new chubby belly that was poking out the bottom of your crop top. “If nothing is going on, how the FUCK do you gain 20 pounds in a month? How is that even possible?”
Your face flushed bright red. You knew the day would come when people started to notice how much weight you've gained, but you didn’t expect it to turn you on so much. You needed to think of something fast but it was hard to think with how flustered you are. 
“I..I don’t know…I’ve just..”
“Just what? Smoking weed all day and eating fast food like a little piggy? I bet all that weed made you so stupid you didn’t even know you turned yourself into a fatass. Honestly, it’s incredible how fat you’ve gotten. It’s like you want to ruin your body.”
You couldn’t keep it in anymore. The degradation was too hot for you to control yourself. It was just a whimper, not even a full moan, but it didn’t slip past Ashley. She stopped what she was saying dead in its tracks.
“Oh my God, this is turning you on isn’t it? You’re one of those freaks that gets off on being fat!” She smirked at you, “Look at you, you’re quivering you’re so turned on right now. God, that’s so embarrassing. Serves you right for being such a fucking fat weirdo.”
She grabbed the burger you were eating from out of your lap.
“You know, I should take this away from you, it would be for your own good. But since you want to be a fucking freak so bad,” she said shoving the burger in your mouth. “Eat up piggy. I’m going to tell everyone how badly you want to be a fatass waddling around campus. That’s why you stopped going to the gym and started eating junk food all the time. Not because you're stressed or depressed like everyone thought. Because you’re too fucking horny to control yourself”
//sorry this is kinda incomplete. I wasn't sure where to go next. If you want me to expand on this story, let me know.
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stylesharrys · 3 months
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Y/N gives Harry a cheeky blowjob on their hike. (Blurb)
A/N: inspired by the new pic of Harry in Japan hehe this was written super fast and not proof read so i apologise for any mistakes! <3
Warnings: dirty talk, somewhat public indecency, blowjob, swearing
//
It was Harry's idea to go for a hike. Something about soaking up the sun and burning off breakfast like he hadn't already fucked Y/N at sunrise this morning.
She didn't complain, though. She was more than happy to admire the view and spend some quality time outdoors. And she was thankful Harry chose an easy route for them to follow, given Y/N didn't really tend to hike all that much.
He's sporting a pair of black shorts and a blue hoodie with Y/N's backpack on -- had insisted that she'd get too tired too quickly if she carried it, and Y/N didn't argue.
Walking a little ahead of him, she allows Harry the view of her backside. Peachy bum moving in her tight gym leggings. He's been hiding a boner for the last ten minutes, struggling to will it away with every step she takes.
"Have I told you how nice your bum looks in those leggings?" he calls out to her.
Y/N looks back at him over her shoulder, offering a cheeky grin. "Once or twice, yeah." She looks down at the noticeable bulge in her pants.
"Causing you a bit of a problem, are they?"
A blush is quick to make its way on Harry's cheeks as she turns to him and walks closer. Y/N fiddles with his ringless fingers, a glint of mischief in her eyes -- a look that Harry is all too familiar with.
He cocks a brow. "Are you serious?"
Y/N shrugs her shoulders. "Why not? We're alone... in a wooded area... with trees to hide behind..."
She doesn't give him much more time to think before gently tugging him off the path and toward a more wild, wooded area. The sticks snap under their feet, overgrown grass and weeds tickling at their legs until she finds clearer ground beneath a tree.
Harry leans against it, eyes curious as she sinks to her knees. If he wasn't hard before, he most certainly is now; gazing down at her, looking all pretty and doe-eyed.
Y/N tugs his shorts and boxers down mid-thigh, Harry's cock slapping free against his lower tummy. The sight has her stomach fluttering. He's achingly hard and red and plump.
She doesn't waste much time, taking him into her hand and swirling her wet tongue around his ruddy tip. Harry's head falls back against the tree trunk, lips parted as a relieved sigh falls from them.
"You're unreal," he tells her, breathless.
Y/N grins up at him, closing her eyes to savour his taste. Wrapping her lips around him, she gently begins to suck -- her tongue flat against the underside of his cock.
Harry's hands find her hair, balling a fist around her ponytail to guide her movements to his desired pace. She lets him. Relaxes her jaw and allows him to take control.
Y/N fists whatever doesn't fit, and as Harry begins to bob her head faster, spit drools down her chin and the corners of her mouth. Her eyes are squeezed shut, nose slightly scrunched as he fucks his length down her throat.
The noises are drowned out by nature; the birds singing and the wind whistling. But they can hear it -- and they hear it loud.
"Jesus Christ, baby. Letting me fuck your throat in the middle of the woods. My dirty girl."
Y/N moans around him, the sound sending vibrations from his tip to his balls as he grunts her name. She can feel that familiar wetness pool between her thighs, can taste the saltiness of his sweat and pre-come as he nears closer to his release.
Harry's pace grows a bit more frantic, desperately chasing his high. Y/N continues to fist the base of his shaft, closing her mouth around him now to suck him for all he's got.
His breathing is erratic, wheezing filthy praises that only make her suck him harder. She feels him twitch on the tip of her tongue and releases her hold on his cock so her hands can brace herself on his thighs.
"Fuck!"
His body trembles as hot spurts of arousal shoot down Y/N's throat. Harry's hold on her hair falters as he attempts to catch his breath, her lips still locked around him as she sucks whatever is left.
Pulling off him with a pop, she swallows his come with a smile and wipes the lower half of her face with the backs of her hands. Y/N stands back on her feet, tucking Harry's cock back in his shorts and boxers and patting him on the chest.
She walks past him, leaving him a panting mess like she didn't just suck the soul out of him less than thirty seconds ago. He turns to follow her, legs a little jelly when she looks over her shoulder at him again with that same wicked grin.
"Come on, H. We've still got another mile and a half to go."
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headspace-hotel · 1 year
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I have an essay brewing in my head constantly about lawns. Which, well, unsurprising, since I post about how I hate lawns all the time, but I think the "lawn" and "landscaping" centered way of thinking about Places Outside is a Bigger Thing that Connects to Other Things
(What isn't? Having ideas about concepts is always like this.)
I will introduce my ideas by a situation where they apply: Sometimes life-forms mimic other life forms. One form of mimicry is called Vavilovian mimicry, where weed species in crops grown by humans evolve over time to be more similar to the crops.
Vavilovian mimicry basically helps weeds survive because the weeds are adapted to the care-taking regimen of the crops, and because the human caretakers of the crop can have a hard time telling them apart, which means they might say "Ehh...I'll wait until it grows up so I can be sure I'm not pulling up my crop."
I think there's something similar at work among flower gardens and landscaping...but it's different.
Regular people don't know the name of every plant that might possibly grow in their flower beds, and they often pull up plants they don't know just because they don't know them. They sometimes say they pull up a plant that "looks weedy" or "looks like a weed."
I think to myself...what does "weedy" look like?
This question collided unexpectedly in my brain with an insight I had about invasive species that I could not explain.
I have to get rid of a lot of Callery pear, wintercreeper, honeysuckle, burningbush, privet, English ivy, and other plants that are invasive where I live. And strangely- many invasive plants look similar in ways they don't share with very many native species. They tend to have small, round or squat, glossy leaves, and they tend to have a very dense growth habit.
I can think of several possible explanations: Maybe these species thrive in North America today because of the loss of controlled burning, but their characteristics look so distinct next to native species because they relate to things that would make a species fire-intolerant? This doesn't seem quite right, since it doesn't predict level of fire-adaptedness in native species.
Another explanation is better: they were selected for these traits by humans for their usefulness in landscaping. Dense growth habit would be useful for creating hedges or ground covers. This is why many invasives were originally planted, right? And small leaves might feel or be perceived as less "messy" when they fall.
But I think this is a clue to something else going on. What does "weedy" look like?
Some plants go on one side of "weeds vs. flowers" and some on the other, and it's almost totally arbitrary...so how do gardeners make the call so decisively?
I think about the commonest "landscaping" plants- Knock Out roses, hostas, petunias, begonias, boxwoods and so on- they share a lot of the characteristics mentioned above. Shiny or at least smooth, typically small and squat leaves, dense and compact growth habit.
Then I think about some of the commonest and most important "weedy" native wildflowers, such as goldenrods, asters, milkweeds, Joe-Pye weed, ironweed, sunflower. They all differ from the above in at least one striking way. Mostly, they have hairy leaves and stems, long and thin leaves, and a tendency to grow up tall before blooming. Milkweed has smooth leaves, but its leaves are long and very big. Hmm...
And I think I can guess where this is coming from.
Landscaping and garden designs often look like this
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See how the plants are drawn and arranged to cover a space in two dimensions, mostly not overlapping with each other? This is very easy to plan and design. And those common landscaping plants I mentioned—hostas, Knock Out roses, boxwoods, and so on—are very good at acting just like a two-dimensional representation of them does. Just look, you can see them:
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Now look at those important native wildflowers I mentioned:
Goldenrod
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Ironweed
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Milkweed
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These guys don't fill much space in a horizontal plane, they go straight up. They don't exclude other plants from very much space either. Plants could grow under them and among them. So they're not very good for "filling up" space, and their opener, lankier, less dense shape doesn't do a good job at blocking other plants from growing.
In a garden of North American prairie- or meadow-adapted plants, the plants wouldn't exclude each other and stay within their designated spots because they're evolved to intermix with a great variety of plants.
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"Separateness" is a big part of the typical "landscape" aesthetic. These plants are very neatly separate from each other. This is what looks "neat" and well-kept to us...the opposite of "weedy."
This could mean our garden and flower beds are affected by a selective pressure a lot like the Vavilovian mimicry situation. But instead of weeds being selected to look like intentionally grown plants, the intentionally grown plants are being selected to look different from weeds.
The subtle difference makes perfect sense. In a field, the rule is "leave the plant there if you're unsure" because that's your food. In a flower bed, the rule is "get rid of the plant if you're unsure" because having weeds is more aesthetically unacceptable than having blank space.
The point is: Ecology needs to be a big part of gardening and landscaping, because you are DOING ecology. Even if you don't know the evolutionary principles, you're acting them out.
Just like the ineffable preferences of female birds give the males weird elaborate display structures, ineffable aesthetic "senses" that govern our "built" world slowly turn it into something weird.
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ellieslittlewh0re · 1 year
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Temptations part 3 - step-sister! ellie x fem reader
part 1 - part 2 - part 3
wk - 5k
additional tags- step-sister! ellie, sarah doesn’t exists in this bc I said so, band! ellie, weed! mentions, cocky! ellie, loser! ellie, perv! ellie, sexual tension, overstimulation, orgasm denial, light choking, use of the word daddy like once, word cock/dick usage, oral (reader! receiving), fingering (reader receiving), strap-on usage (reader receiving), pussy slapping (sorry but not really), spit play, ellie is messy w it, scissoring, finger sucking, e! is rough but also really hot, implied consent obvi
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You quickly pull away, the loud banging on the
door practically sent you into a shock.
What were you thinking? We're you even thinking at all? That was a dumb question because no, you weren't. You simply let your body take control- letting it fulfill whatever fucked up need you had.
Ellie pulled away with a huff, frustrated in more ways than one, as she walked towards the front door, leaving you in the kitchen with a soaking patch growing inside your panties.
"The fuck took you so long?" Ellie said, annoyed, greeting the man at the door who was nothing but a stranger to you.
You get up, adjusting the hem of your dress to make sure everything was covered and walk towards to them.
"Sorry man. Tire blew out- had to put on a donut."
The guy said, sounding pretty unaffected- buzzed beached hair and a piercing on the arch of his eyebrow.
"I thought you said you got pulled over?" Ellie asked, sounding pretty fed up already.
"Ohhh yeah- a cop pulled us over to tell us we had a flat. Was wondering' why the road felt so bumpy." The man trailed off, mentally putting together the puzzle pieces in his head.
He was high.. like really high, the whites of his eyes a shade of pink, half closed and glossed over.
He glanced over Ellie's shoulder, meeting your shy and slightly guilty-ridden face.
"Damn Williams- you didn't say you had a new girl with you."
He points a finger in your direction, making you more uncomfortable with the acknowledgment.
"Don't be a fucking creep- she's my sister." Ellie snaps back, moving further in front of you like she was shielding you from his sight.
"Get in the van ash before you piss me off more."
Even from standing behind her, you could tell she was rolling her eyes. She was never the patient type.
The man "Ash" threw his hands up, spun around, and walked towards Ellie's car, a classic creeper van that she got because "it's convenient to move shit."
"Sorry bout' him. Weed burned all his brain cells, but I promise he's harmless."
Ellie apologized as she turns around to face you, scratching the back of her neck. Bingo.
"S' okay." You giggle, chasing her eyes with yours and when she looks- you bat your doe eyes at her, your lips widening into a gloss coated smile which made Ellie's cheeks flush and her head spin.
If it was up to her, she'd say fuck the band and fucking anything else that got in her way of having you to herself.
She would've had you bent over the same counter just moments earlier- your bare tits smushed against the granite while she had your dress hiked up over your ass and her knuckles snugged deep inside your pussy.
Ellie clears her throat, rocking on her heels as she looks around the room at anything but you. You weren't going to make this easy for her, and you wanted her to know that.
"Ready to go?" Ellie holds out a hand and you take it, letting her lead you two out the door and down the driveway.
This was Ellie's way of pretending that you're hers, even if it's just for tonight, canvassing it like it was just innocent sisterly affection.
The back of the van was packed to the brim with three more people besides the man that you met earlier, along with instruments and other equipment that you couldn't name.
Ellie points at them individually, telling you their names, and they all greet you in unison, laughing and smiling- not one of them seemed entirely sober but friendly enough.
Ellie insisted you were her passenger. She pretty much kicked Ash from the front seat so you can sit beside her- claiming "family comes first".
It was kinda embarrassing. I mean, Ellie wasn't being the most subtle, so you mouth a "sorry" under your breath in his direction before putting on your seat belt, but you couldn't deny how hot your face felt when she'd openly favor you to such a degree.
The van shortly filled with a thick haze of smoke, the music cranked to an overwhelming degree and everyone talking- more like yelling over each other. It was fun though, and it felt refreshing to be with a group of people that didn't care what anyone else thought about them, freely being themselves without feeling bad about it.
"Here- you take control." Ellie said without looking at you, eyes still on the road ahead as she hands you the aux cord.
"Oh- no- Ellie I don't know what to put on."
I take the cord in my hands, turning it over in my fingers.
"Just play anything babe-"
Ellie cuts herself off to fix her mistake, but it was too late. She slipped, and she quickly froze, waiting to see if anyone else in the van caught on, but they didn't, too busy finishing off a joint and laughing at the top of their lungs.
But you? You definitely noticed, and for a second, it felt normal until Ellie's reaction reminded you it wasn't.
"Babe, huh?" You chuckle, mocking her words under your breath as you plug in your phone, scrolling through Spotify until you find something that felt like a safe choice.
Ellies felt her cheeks ignite, both from embarrassment but also your reaction. You weren't mad or scared; you smiled wildly at the nickname, embracing it, and based on your body language- you encouraged it.
You shifted in the seat, scooting as close as you could, turning your body in her direction and crossed your legs, not bothering to fix your dress that scrunched up to the point your lace underwear was peaking out from under the fabric.
You traced shapes on her forearm that rested on the center console with your manicured nail, tracing the lines of her tattoo. You felt Ellie tense under your touch, swallowing hard and trying her best to keep her eyes on the fucking road.
Sisterly affection, right?
-
Ellie pulls the van into the alley behind the bar, shifting the gear into park.
It was pitch black, the only light source being a light pole at the corner, flickering in and out, making the already sketchy area even more unsettling.
You take a deep breath as you exit the car, shutting the door and adjusting your dress.
"Do you play here a lot?" Your voice peaks in question, looking at Ellie who was already unloading the van, holding something heavy in her arms, veins and muscles straining under the weight.
"Yeah- every other weekend or so."
You tried helping in any way you could, grabbing mic stands or rolled up cords, but Ellie always shot you down, shaking her finger followed by a "tsk tsk" and a "can't have you gettin' hurt, princess- the old man will never forgive me."
You eventually give up, knowing anything about your step sister-she's stubborn and doesn't take no for an answer. Instead you sit in the van, legs hanging out the side with the door open, observing the amount of effort it took all of them, but if you were being honest... you only looked at Ellie.
How could you not?
Her biceps bulged, and veins popped in her forearms and all the way down to her hands. Her face was focused, eyebrows scrunched together that made her look unapproachable, but when ever she caught your stares, she'd always give a side smile and a wink.
She was a literal walking wet dream.
-
To say the bar was crowded, was an understatement. The small area was filled with people that were hip to hip, waving beer bottles in their hands, yelling and cheering like they were celebrating a hard-earned victory.
It smelled like smoke and sweat; stickers and hand draw graffiti decorated the walls. Most of the people in there, we're young, mid-20s/ 30s, with the occasional older biker types sprinkled in.
You stood by awkwardly, definitely wishing you wore something that blended in more while Ellie and the rest of the band were setting up on the makeshift stage that was only a few feet from you.
You dazed out into the crowd, rocking from foot to foot when you felt Ellies presence loom over you.
"We're about to start. If you want a drink or anything- just tell Mario at the bar that you're here with me. He'll hook you up." Ellie said in a unintentionally raspy voice, crouching down on the stage to be at eye level with you.
You smile at her, looking down and giving Ellie the perfect time to ogle your tits from a downwards view.
You look up at her and lean in, positioning yourself between her bent knees, letting your nails linger over the denim of her jeans.
You stand on your tippy-toes so that you could get close enough to whisper.
"I'm not taking my eyes off you."
Ellie took a deep breath in as those words danced off the tip of your tongue, so sweet and yet, so suggestive.
Ellie bit the inside of her cheek hard; to bring her back down to earth after the way you teased her. She lifted a finger, tapping it to the underside of your chin, not in an affection way, more of "keep that shit up and see where it gets you" sort of way.
She stood, returning to the center of the stage and draped the guitar around her shoulder, plugging it in and strumming the cords to ensure the tune.
The crowd erupted into cheers louder than before, you look around and can't help but smile as the first few notes start to play.
You didn't recognize the beat, but you didn't care. Your eyes solely looked at Ellie, tuning everyone else out.
She sang into the microphone, chipped black nail polished fingers holding it in place on the mic stand. You felt entranced- under a spell, too busy soaking up the sight and not wanting to forget this night happened.
She looked like a natural, happy, and in her element, beads of sweat forming on her forehead and bridge of her nose, making stands of her hair stick to the sides of her face.
You sway to the music, rocking from side to side with a stupid smile on your face; because all you can think is, she was born for this.
Ellie tried her best to interact with the crowd, but it was hard to look at anyone else knowing you were there, front and center. The way your face lit up in shades of green and red from the neon lights overhead, your smile beaming and how effortlessly you swayed your hips, not too much, but enough to help Ellie imagine you using those movements- swirling your hips on her strap.
You catch Ellie's attention, using the opportunity to blow a kiss at her which definitely may or may not have, made Ellie's voice crack.
You can tell she was frazzled- embarrassed that her mistake echoed into the bar, but no one else seemed to care, too busy singing along and dancing- not to mention inebriated.
You cover your mouth to hide a giggle, your cheeks gleaming from the fullness and sweat of the hot bodies that danced around you.
-
Ellie and the rest of the band; were starting to pack up after saying their closing lines and thanking everyone for being here tonight.
The crowd had fizzled out. Most left, respectively-being it was almost 3 in the morning, while others passed out over tables and chairs.
"Well, whaddya think, was it everything you'd dream it'd be?" Ellie asked, dropping down from the stage to dangle her legs over the edge right next to you.
You leaned against the platform, placing a hand on her knee, looking around to make sure everyone else was still putting shit in the van.
"I think-"
You draw out your words, hushing them into a whisper.
"You- might have found your biggest fan."
Somehow you ended up between her thighs, your hands on each knee as you continue to lean into your words.
Ellie found herself subconsciously leaning in, closing the space between you, her eyes flickering to a darker gaze, her lips parted slightly as short breaths escaped them. You had a spell on her, a girl who thought she could snake her way between any women's legs, but you?
You had all the power over her.
"What do you think you're doing, huh?" Ellie asked, her voice low and coarse from her hours of singing/screaming into a microphone.
It sent shivers down your spine- how she loomed over you, how she looked at you- like she was ready to jump your fucking bones.
You bat your eyelashes, inching you hands further up the inside of her jean cladded thighs, "m' not doing anything, el's... just showing my appreciation is all." You play dumb, rubbing circles dangerously close to the seam of her crotch.
"You're unbelievable-"
"Vans' all packed, ready to go-?"
Ash called out, entering the doorway from the back alley.
You pulled away, clearing your throat, trying to shoot down any suspicions that he may have had. 
Ellie kicked off the platform, running a hand through her shagged haircut.
"Yeah- let's blow this place."
She took your hand in hers, letting you trail behind her as you go back to the car.
It felt urgent and rushed, feeling her grip. She was frustrated and wanted to get you home as quickly as possible to teach you a lesson- make herself feel like she was in control again.
-
The ride home was... tense. Ellie didn't say a word, her jaw clenched, white fisting the steering wheel.
When we got home, she didn't bother saying goodbyes or offering anyone to crash for the night, which she usually would do. She was too determined, too eager to let any more distractions get in her way.
The rest of her band pulled out of the driveway, red brake lights disappearing into the distance, while Ellie continued to tug- more like drag you into the house, making sure to be as quiet as possible to not wake your poor, unsuspecting father.
She drags you up the stairs, your heels making you trip, but she doesn't ease up. The grip on your wrist tightening.
You whisper yell to her, telling her to slow down, but it went unacknowledged.
She yanks you into your bedroom, practically pushing you onto the bed, shutting the door quickly, but making sure to turn the knob so it wouldn't echo a clicking noise throughout the house.
Your heartbeat thuds harder against your chest, propping yourself up on your elbows as you looked at her. You felt a tightening in your stomach, and the room felt like it was on fire.
"You had fun tonight, huh? Like playing your little games with me?" Ellie said accusingly, steeping to the foot of the bed, placing a knee between your legs that dangled over the side.
"I don't know what you're talking about." You continue to act innocent, lowering your voice into a hushed wined like a kicked puppy.
Her knee between your legs forces them apart, displaying your laced-covered heat.
Ellie clicked her tongue against her teeth, slinking a finger to raise the hem of your dress to get a better look.
"Want me to take care of that?" She teases, a cocky smirk hinted on her lips as she motions a eyebrow raise at your sopping cunt.
You almost whimper just from hearing her voice alone, in fact, you probably did.
You don't respond, too distracted by how fucking hot you felt.
Ellie widens her stance, prying your legs further apart as she climbed on top of you.
"Or- do you want me to let you deal with it yourself."
She mere inches from your face, her breath brushing against your lips.
You shake your head desperately, indicating a no.
"Ah-ah.. need to hear you say it pretty girl."
She smirks, her eye contact deepening.
"N-no els.. need your help." You whined, hoping it would make her have pity on you.
Your hands reach up, snaking your fingers through her hair.
She dips down further, pausing before your lips touch. Ellie's lips ghost over, barely grazing yours. Her knee hikes between your thighs and bumps against your cunt.
"A-ah.." You moan, biting your lip and start to grind yourself down on her knee.
In an instant, something ignited in Ellie, hearing your moans and how you desperately tried to get yourself off with little patience or rhythm. She connects your lips, and a low moan vibrates in your mouth as she slips her tongue inside, grazing your teeth and spongy walls.
"You're fucking killing me.." She growls between open mouth kisses, letting her knee drag over your poor, neglected pussy.
You whine, placing your hands on the back of her thighs and pushing her harder against you.
"S' not enough... need more e-ellie."
"Pretty girl needs more, huh?" She said mockingly in a way that sounded dehumanizing.
You nod enthusiastically, your eyebrows furrowing up in frustration.
"Then beg." She stopped all movements with her knee, and your hips raise to connect the contact, but it was no use- only she can save you now.
"P-please els.. I'll do anything- I'll be good.. please." You babbled and pleaded, not really sure what you were saying, but you didn't care as long as it got her to touch you.
Ellie smirked down at you, clearly satisfied that she had you this needy.
"Atta girl... have to be quiet though- Can't have dad hearing you getting fucked, can we?"
You nod pathetically again and Ellie rewards you with a kiss for how good you were being. She pulls away, hovering over you on her knees as she looked down, eyes trailing slowly to take you all in.
She gets off the bed, kneeling at the edge of it to be eye level with your soaked cunt.
"Up."
She taps your calf, signaling for you to prop up your legs and you do what she says without any hesitation.
She thumbs over your pussy, looking up to watch you squirm from the littlest touches that she gives you.
She rubs tight circles over your clit, and to be honest- it felt like a punishment- how lightly she was doing it, knowing how fucking worked up you were.
"Els... please." You whine, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, thrusting your hips up shamelessly.
You hear ellie chuckle to herself before she palms your pussy harshly, rolling her wrist against it which caused you to cry out.
"Sorry baby- just love seeing you all stupid for me." She continued to feel you through your panties, getting you more wet than before.
The pet names she was throwing out had you close by itself, knowing how fucking wrong it was, but fuck... nothing has ever felt this good.
She wrapped her hands around your thighs, fisting the fat between her fingers to spread you out more. You cover your mouth to suppress a moan.
She dips down, hovering over your cunt and you felt her breath hitting your core before she flat tongues a strip over the fabric. She uses her fingers to tug aside your panties, letting the tip of her tongue flick your erect clit.
You bite down on your hand while the other fists your comforter, rocking your hips against her tongue.
"F-fuuu- mm." Your jaw hangs open, fully engrossing yourself with the sensations of her skilled touch.
"Taste so fucking good, baby.. knew you would." Ellie whispered- almost growled between each taste, her hunger growing more out of control.
You pull at the top your dress, yanking your straps down your shoulders and palm your tits, kneading the fat between your fingers.
Ellie noticed, her eyes widening a little before going dark again. She rips off your underwear, yanking them down your legs and tossing them to the floor.
You yelp/moan in surprise as her hands grab you by the back of your thighs and yank you down further to the edge of the bed. She pushes your knees up, leaving your pussy fully exposed to her.
"So pretty.. such a pretty pussy." Ellie says, almost to herself as she placed a kiss to your bud before taking it into her mouth, suckling it until it was swollen and puffy.
You were a mess at this point, overstimulated, and at the same time, you wanted more.
Ellie sat up to watch you carefully, running her fingers over your folds before slapping your puffy cunt repeatedly. It started light at first, but each slap had more power than the last, and she just watched. She watched you squirm, and buckling your hips, trying to get away, but her other hand had a tight grip on your hip to keep you in place.
Full-on tears were streaming down your face at this point, and your clit was throbbing, but you still felt so empty and desperate to be filled.
"E-ellie.. it's too much.. n-need you inside." You said through broken sobs to the best of your abilities.
Ellie's hand tighten on your hip and it will definitely leave bruises for the days to come.
"You need me inside pretty girl?" Ellie fakes a sympathetic tone, her hand smearing your slick further down your thighs before placing a kiss to the delicate skin.
You nod down at her through wet eyelashes, using the back of your hand to wipe away a stray tear.
Your exhale was cut short, Ellie's finger plunging into your pussy, slow at first and just holding it inside, curling it against your walls.
"O-oh- fuuck." You fist the sheets at your sides, your dress bunched up where it only covered a small portion of your mid-section, leaving all the most important details on display.
Her single finger was joined by a second, pumping in and out slowly and spreading them apart inside you. Ellie lacked any rhythm, purposefully slowly her movements when you were close to your climax.
You were a mess, hair sticking to your forehead, and your lip was swollen and raw from biting down on it to keep yourself fucking quiet.
Ellie loved every second of it, watching you fall apart from every little thing she did to you, but it was getting harder to ignore how her boxers were sticking to her own arousal.
After Ellie was satisfied that your were properly stretch out for her, she got up and left the room, leaving you confused on the bed.
She returned not even 2 minutes later, her pants gone, leaving her in just her boxers and her black muscle tank, but she had on something else; a harness that cupped the underside of her ass and a purple silicone dick that stood between her thighs.
Your breath catches in your throat, and a shudder runs down your spine as she strolls over to the bed. 'How could she possibly get any hotter?' You thought to yourself.
She gets on the bed, crawling over you and cages you in with her hands on either side of your head.
Her hand reaches around your throat, squeezing lightly as she connects your lips, it's sloppy and rough, leaving you begging for what's to come.
You break away, your hand coming up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
"We shouldn't do this."
"Oh- now you want to stop?" She grins, her hand on your throat coming down to squeeze your tit before rolling your nipple between her fingers.
You moan, squeezing your eyes shut as your head presses further back into the mattress.
"S' not what I said." You whisper sweetly.
"Good-" and just like that, her hand holds the base of her dick, lining it up to your entrance, running it along your folds, and coating it in your slick.
"P-please, please, Ellie.. I need it- O-oh.. fuc-k." You're cut off by her dick slamming into you, fully disappearing inside your cunt. Your nails sink into her forearm, surly leaving crescent shapes into the flesh.
She slowly pulls out only to snap her hips forward, repeating the motion that had you reaching for her, begging to feel her lips on yours again.
You were split open, brain foggy and the only thing you could focus on was her. You whine and moan, sharpe exhales cut short by the tip of her cock hitting your cervix just right. You are babbling incoherently, barely able to form a coherent thought, simply muttering her name over and over again, and it was music to Ellie's ears.
She falls forward, her hand wrapping around your jaw as she plants open mouth kisses to your puffy lips, wet of your saliva mixed with hers.
"Fuck- taking me so well, baby. Such a good girl."
She breathed into your lips, pent up frustration covered up by praises.
Ellie was growing more insatiable, her hand wondering down to squeeze your tit, pulling at your redden and abused peak, but it wasn't enough.
Her pointer and middle finger glazed over your bottom lip, smearing your spit across your face before tapping for entry. You opened hesitantly at first, too fucked out to question her. Her fingers slip in, reaching further into the back of your throat. You moan around her, tasting yourself on her as she presses against your tongue.
Ellie snaps, her hips rutting faster against yours, hitting deeper and harder than you thought anyone could. You yell out in painful pleasure, Ellie's hand coming up to cover your mouth as she sucks on your neck, breathing into it like a women starved. Ellie wanted to take her time with you- wanted you to beg for her to come, but she was past that point.
Tears steamed down your cheeks, your nails clawed at the back of her shoulders as she pistoned into your aching cunt. Your cries were growing louder, muffed by Ellie's hand and she felt your body tense under her, signaling how close you were.
Her lips tugged at the sensitive skin below your ear, pulling and letting it plop back into place, moving up to position her lips over your ear.
"Cum fr' daddy, baby girl."
That's all it took, hearing her primitive voice echo in your brain, feeling her breath fan over your neck. Your hips buckle and then stiffen, her lips capture yours the hide the cry that you both knew was coming on. Your back arches off the mattress, your legs tighten around her waist to keep her deep inside as you come undone on her cock.
She slows her pace inside, snapping her hips against your spongy walls, working you through your orgasm.
She quickly placed a kiss to your worn lips, carefully removing herself from you. You were left breathless, still feeling the aftershocks sparking through your body, not noticing Ellie ridding herself of the hardness and the rest of her clothes minus the black sport bra that she kept on.
She crawled back on the bed, her hands prying your knees open as she portioned herself between your legs.
You barely had time to take in the fact she was almost fully naked, her toned stomach and defined 'v' that lead your eyes down to her dripping pussy.
"Wha-? Els... what are you-?" You ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"M' not done with you yet, baby- not after the way you've been teasing me- gonna use your pretty pussy to cum... can you let me do that?" She smirks, rubbing a hand down your inner thigh. It wasn't a question- she was simply vocalizing what she was going to do, and who were you to deny her? 
Your breath hitches, your cunt clenching around nothing, already missing the pressure of her inside. You nod weakly at her, taking your bottom between your teeth.
"Good girl." She coos, leaning down to kiss your knee.
She wedges herself between you two, positioning one of your legs over her shoulder as she sinks down onto you.
"Mm... fuck- oh my god- you make feel so fucking good babe." Ellie moans, grinding her sopping cunt against yours, the combination of your slick coating your thighs and hers.
You're beyond gone at this point, eyes blown out, and the corners of your vision going dark. Ellie grunted with each snap of her hips, her temple resting against your calf as her eyes focused on where you two were connected. Her jaw hung slightly and her brows furrowed upwards, little moans threatened her tongue.
You felt your stomach tightening, your clit pulsating and rubbed raw.
"E-ellie... I can't- gonna cum." You whine, your tone dripping in lust, and desperate to come undone.
"M-me too.. fuck- gonna cum all over your fucking pussy." Ellie said through clenched teeth, speaking more to herself than to you, getting off to hearing such crude words come from her mouth.
If kissing your step-sister wasn't bad enough... this was crossing the line of downright; filthy. The sounds that filled the room, wet skin rubbing against more wet skin, your whines mixed with Ellie's moans and sharp, shallow breaths. It was something straight out of a porno.
"You feel so-fucking-good.. oh my god-" Ellie's jaw drops, rutting her hips harder and faster against yours to reach her growing climax.
Your nails dig into her hip bone, your body going limp and you just take it, too fucked out to do anything else.
You babble her name weakly, eyes rolling back into your skull, grabbing at her in any way you can.
"Fuck-fuck-ohmygod-" You cry, causing Ellie to kiss your inner thigh that rested on her shoulder, sweetly, cooing words of 'I know' and 'cum for me pretty girl'.
Her hips sputter and jolt, growing harder to keep her pace as she reached her peak.
One last glide of her hips had both of you falling apart, shaking and squirming beneath her, whining and moaning into the back of your hand.
She slowed her pace before stopping all together, gently removing your leg and brought it down to rest on the bed.
She laid beside you, breathing heavily, bringing her forearm to rest over her eyes. You both stay like that for for a moment, catching your breath and letting the silence creep into the room.
Ellie turns to face you and brings the sheet up, and over your frame, slinking an arm over your torso. You turn to look at her, almost too engrossed in her features to think about the consequences. Her skin was dewy, freckles sprinkled her cheeks and upper lip, and her lips were full and a darker shade of pink from how chaffed they were. She was beautiful, and you were fucked.
"Probably shouldn't have done that, huh?" She chuckles, bringing her hand up to remove a strand of hair from your face.
A burst of air escapes your nose as you return a giggle, placing your hand on top of hers as it cups your cheek.
"Probably not- what are we going to do?" You ask rhetorically, eyes dazing up to the ceiling.
Ellie hums in thought, memorizing the side of your face, wanting to remember every detail of your skin.
"We could change our names... move to the other side of the country." She teased, but only partly.
"Ha- seems like a lot of work for the sake of having sex with someone." You playfully scoff, rolling your eyes.
Her thumb dances over your bottom lip, swiping back and forth like she's deep in a thought.
"Just say the words and I'll buy the plane tickets."
1K notes · View notes
minimujina · 1 year
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you make me so nervous !
sᴛᴀʀʀɪɴɢ. heizou, albedo, wanderer/scaramouche x f!reader
ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. reader has a dendro vision, and when you get flustered or injured your powers go crazy :0
ᴄᴡ. sickeningly sweet fluff, wanderer is given a name, wanderer’s is a bit different than the other two so specific warnings are right before his, ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!
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heizou had never met someone so easy to read in all his days of observing people.
the mere presence of the detective seemed to fluster you impossibly—and your dendro vision would react in accordance, much to your dismay.
take the time that you decided to go for a mid-morning walk—something you didn’t usually do. you were looking for easy ways to change things up, bored of the stagnancy that so often came with a rigid schedule.
upon seeing you, the detective was surprised, since he knew that you were usually in your garden at this time of day. he shrugged it off, though, approaching you eagerly. and i’m not saying that he had the intention of frightening you, but that’s exactly what i’m saying.
“my dear sweetflower!” heizou exclaimed, startling you with an obnoxious poke on the shoulder. sweetflower was an endearing nickname he’d come up with when he first met you. “what brings you here at this fine hour?”
mischief and arrogance seemed to just seep from his voice. but still, he was a good friend to you, and a good person. just a bit of a bastard.
you gave a loud yelp and a flinch—he had to steady you with his arms amidst good-natured laughter to keep you from smacking him.
after you’d calmed down and he stopped laughing, heizou noticed something peculiar and novel: flowers had begun to bloom in your hair. by the time heizou had released you from his grasp, the mess atop your head had become more than abundant with clusters of posies.
you were none the wiser, since you were too busy trying to sort out your muddled thoughts—but heizou brought the issue to your attention with a silvery hum and a grin, reaching behind your ear to pluck a single leaf from its vine.
“did i scare you that much, dear?” the detective’s voice was teasing, but kind, and his smile more than reached the marks under his eyes. he was clearly amused at this predicament of yours.
the next time, however, had nothing to do with you being startled. you simply took notice of heizou in the distance—and the next thing you knew, flowers were sprouting up like weeds all around you. the detective hadn’t spotted you, though, so you bunched up as many of the fresh sumeru roses and sweetflowers in your little arms as you could, scurrying away in a panic.
ever since then, this problem persisted relentlessly. you’d learned to control it more with time, but every chance encounter with the detective spelled your inevitable embarrassment—at least one plant would spring up somewhere in the vicinity, and more often than not it would be in your own hair. heizou honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it—he might have been good at discerning motives and teasing out evidence, but for the life of him, he couldn’t unravel your seemingly complex feelings about him.
it was the beginning of the end when the detective stumbled upon a peculiar path of flowers and droopy vines. it was painfully obvious that they did not belong there among the sakura, and heizou had a feeling that he knew just who the culprit was.
after following the trail for no more than a few minutes, he was confronted with an amusing sight—you, sprawled on the ground, snarled in the sheer abundance of plants that seemed to have tripped you. he wondered what you’d been running from that made you so afraid.
heizou flashed you a smug smile, but he leaned over to lend a hand anyways. and yet, more flowers sprouted to shroud you from his view, as if tucking you away. but the glimpse of fear he’d seen in your eyes was enough for him to finally come to a conclusion—it was him you had been running from.
but.. you weren’t scared of him. this he knew.
you liked him.
oh, what an ego boost this was for shikanoin heizou.
he sighed, almost dreamily. “oh, my little sweetflower, you can come out now—i know about your little crush on me, so there’s no need to keep running away.”
when you made no move to emerge, heizou smiled to himself. of course it wouldn’t be that easy.
“love,” he mused, “what i’m saying is that i—“
suddenly, heizou’s throat tightened. it came out of nowhere; he was so confident when he started, and this went so smoothly in his head. so why did his tongue suddenly feel so heavy? why did his chest burn the way it did?
it took the detective a moment to collect himself—he found it difficult to quell the sudden thought that maybe he liked you even more than he realized.
deep breaths, detective.
“what i mean to say is..”
another deep breath, heizou.
“i find you rather.. endearing.”
he cleared his throat, unconsciously stuffing his hands in his pockets. oh, if only he could see himself—he was being so obvious that even an amateur could see right through him.
“well, that is—i like you.”
he hadn’t meant to say it so plainly, but it seemed that his words, however hesitant they were, gave you the push of courage you needed.
the flowers parted ever so slightly to reveal your eyes again, less terror-filled, though still quite shaken.
but what was most surprising was the detective’s expression—you caught it for only a split second, but it was there. his eyes were blown wide, as if he were incredulous with himself. but a whimsical grin that could fool anyone quickly replaced all evidence of that uneasiness.
“…really?” you whispered, voice thinned and small, as if you’d swallowed your confidence.
a baffling, earnest sincerity crept into heizou’s expression—of all the times he’d been able to conceal his true feelings, this was not one of them.
“really.” his response was firm, his gaze softer than it had ever been.
“and..” you took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at the detective. “…you aren’t bothered by the whole…flower thing?”
heizou laughed mirthfully—“why would i be?”
under the cover of your plants, you fiddled with the petals of a sumeru rose as you spoke. “i don’t know.. it’s just embarrassing, is all. i thought it was overbearing.”
“oh, dear,” heizou tutted. “was it blatantly obvious? yes, yes it was”—your expression turned sheepish—“but overbearing? you? never.”
heizou reached out to part the sea of plants away from your face so that he could properly see you, letting one hand linger to lift your chin. “ah, there’s my lovely girl,” he grinned. “now, let’s get you out of here, shall we?”
and with that, your shaky little hand emerged to place itself in heizou’s steady palm, and he pulled you up, watching as the leaves and florets spilled all around your form like water.
and for once, heizou had nothing to say. all he could think about was the feeling of your small hand in his own, and how beautiful you looked in that moment. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were the long-departed goddess of flowers herself.
heizou very promptly decided that he could not tolerate the way his heart was acting. no, no, no, it was simply out of character. you were the one who was supposed to be flustered—not shikanoin heizou, the tenryou commission’s top detective, a young and brilliant genius whom nothing could unnerve.
the detective tugged you forward suddenly, fastening his hands around your waist as he stooped down—but he froze just before he reached your lips. he seemed to study you, admiring the brightness in your eyes, the dancing reflection of sunlight.
“wanna make out?” he asked out of the blue, a shit-eating grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
what you wanted was to slap him for his god-awful sense of humor.
but also yes, you did want to make out.
you decided to make this very clear by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and just making the move yourself for once. from the way he smiled into your lips, your intuition told you that he liked your spontaneous impatience.
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when albedo discovered that his own presence regularly caused your vision to malfunction, his curiosity surrounding you became insatiable.
he would hum, stepping around you in a measured circle while he observed the various flowers that had sprouted from your vision. a thick vine had found itself stuck to the surface of your vision, almost as if it were trapped in the glass, not fully emerged. it trailed all the way to the ground of albedo’s workshop, branching off into more vines with sweet flowers, roses, and all sorts of pretty blossoms.
“how peculiar,” the alchemist murmured. “i’ve never seen anything quite like this before.”
yeah, me neither, you wanted to mumble and grouch, but you settled for a subtle pout instead.
albedo hummed thoughtfully again before completing a full circle around you, coming to face you eye-to-eye. you could see the mischief in his gaze, and your tummy fluttered with nervous anticipation—one could never know what the chalk prince would do next.
“i wonder… could we possibly encourage the vine to grow more? perhaps then it wouldn’t be stuck—which, again, is fascinating in itself.”
albedo was staring at you so intensely that you couldn’t make yourself meet his gaze. he continued nonetheless, “i’ve really never heard of someone’s powers emerging straight from the vision and manifesting that way. you are very curious—very curious indeed.”
seeing your blank expression and watery eyes, albedo decided to continue with his procedures in a more considerate fashion. he understood that you probably felt scrutinized, but he didn’t mean it that way, truly. he was filled with genuine curiosity about this predicament—though perhaps he did have an ulterior motive hidden somewhere.. but who’s to say?
“let’s go ahead and see if we can make it grow, then, shall we?” oh, there was so much mischief in his voice, and you did not like it one bit, nor did you like the way your stomach buzzed.
albedo suddenly leaned down very close to the side of your face—close enough that you could hear his gentle breathing and feel it fan across your blushy cheek.
“would this suffice to do the trick?” he asked lowly; you spotted his subtle grin out of the corner of your eye.
and sure enough, the floor all near ruptured with greenery, so many flowers poking up through the cracks of the dirt that it almost looked like a garden in the middle of this dry, frigid mountain.
“oh, my,” albedo chuckled, his mirthful gaze burning your face. “that did the trick indeed.”
you stepped back out of shame, though your flustered expression failed to escape him—nothing could ever fool those sharp eyes of his.
how endearing, he thought, amused at the manner in which your feet shifted and the way your cheeks bloomed a shade much darker than before.
hoping to quell your fears, albedo leaned down to pluck a single flower from its stem—a cecilia, native to mondstadt, yet fabricated by your own hand. he approached you to carefully tuck it behind your ear, his hand lingering for but a moment to brush your cheek.
another cecilia popped up from the ground, right next to albedo’s feet—your hands flew up to cover your face.
this prompted a warm chuckle from the alchemist. your anxiety subsided a bit at his comforting, familiar laughter.
his hand remained near your cheek, thumb just barely ghosting the skin; it was as though you were made of a delicate porcelain he was afraid to crack. and yet, oh, and yet, the way he was looking at you was so piercing that you thought you may fall apart at the seams. those eyes of his drilled holes into your face, but their gaze still held so much affection—how could he possibly analyze you with that cold calculation and still make you feel so warm inside?
“it’s still stuck in the vision,” he murmured without breaking eye contact, his even and composed voice dragging you out of a daydream; it took you a moment to realize he was talking about the plant. although.. his hand was still cupping your cheek. your heart thumped in your ears like a rabbit’s foot to the ground—why was he still touching you? this wasn’t like the distant, calculated albedo you were certain you knew… though it’s not like you minded.
the alchemist took a step forward with one foot, slow and careful. the other followed suit, bringing him ever closer, so that now you could feel his breath against your cheek again. it was a stark contrast to the frigid atmosphere, and a shiver racked through your body at his touch. and that was when you realized just how close he was—so close that your noses almost brushed; so close that he was craning his neck to meet your gaze; so close that you almost thought he might…
..well, albedo just couldn’t help himself, could he? archons, he knew he was supposed to be trying to fix the problem with your vision, but this entire experiment was his own self-indulgence at this point. but he would not be doing it if he didn’t already know that you were quite taken with him—your vision going haywire when he got close to you gave albedo all the evidence he needed to come to the conclusion that you were smitten.
and so, when the alchemist placed his other hand on your jaw, holding your face with that steadiness and carefulness you knew he possessed, more flowers sprung up around your feet. but neither of you cared.
“this should fix it, yeah?” albedo mumbled, and before you could even process what he had said, he was swooping down to capture your lips in a kiss.
it was gentle yet fervent, brief yet fulfilling. your whole body felt warm and fluttery, so when he pulled away, you found yourself leaning forward and standing on your tippy toes as if to beg him not to—but he did, just so that he could see the expression on your face: flushed, sheepish, happy, perplexed. he was satisfied knowing that his own affections were very obviously returned.
before you knew it, his lips were crashing into yours again, just a bit more eager this time. you had no idea the great albedo was capable of such a feat as this—you’d never even entertained the thought of him reciprocating your feelings. it was just out of the question to you, until now.
albedo’s lips were slightly cracked from the cold, but there was nothing unpleasant about it. he held your face so gently and rubbed his gloved thumbs over your skin so tenderly that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, but he took the liberty of grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. you could feel his breathing, feel the air fill and vacate his lungs, feel how he shuddered when a sudden wind invaded the workshop.
the chilled air did not help your flustered state, for your knees had already buckled more than once, and albedo’s hold on you was the only thing keeping you standing. for now, though, his lips remained on yours, and plants continued growing in his workshop until there was literally no space to walk.
albedo didn’t mind. the vision had fixed itself due to your excitement, allowing the vine to mature properly. though not to mention…a few other plants had joined in on the process.
but he loved this. he loved the view, he loved your presence, and he loved how beautiful you looked when he pulled away: eyes shining, lips a bit swollen, cheeks rosy. the fact that he could no longer move in his workshop didn’t matter so long as you were here.
he was going to paint you like this when he got the chance, he decided—and there would be no lack of flowers to reference, that’s for sure.
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ᴛᴡ. ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!1!!!1!1!! FROM HERE ON OUT !!1! ……… mentions of the reader being injured, not specified from where (nothing too descriptive); flowers grow from the reader’s wounds (again, not too descriptive); slight angst but it is immediately fluffified and everything else is good :] auntie buer basically assigned him a babysitter and thats you ehehyeyegeh
the wanderer had gone by many names in his lifetime, names that engendered fear into his enemies and allies alike.
though, had he ever really had an ally after the losses he had perceived as betrayals? in reality, scaramouche held everyone at arms length no matter what, never allowing anyone close enough to see, much less touch, the fragile shards of his psyche.
but you—an insignificant little woman, his appointed caretaker—you had given him a name.
it was unlike any of the other titles he’d been assigned. rather, this time, it wasn’t even so much that you had assigned it to him, but that it had been set aside for him—like you had let him step into it on his own, try it on for size, and decide if it suited him.
it’s a name that was reserved for him by someone kind. someone with good intention. someone who reminded him too much of the ones he had lost.
you called him junpei. pure. genuine.
the wanderer found it amusing how ironic your choice was. but upon seeing your eager grin, he could not bring himself to reject the name.
junpei.
was that how you saw him? or was it what you wanted him to be?
“junpei, would you help me with this?” sure, he would—did he have a choice, anyways?
“jun, have you eaten?” no. food was not a necessity to him, as he was a puppet. but you would make him eat regardless.
“you look tired, jun, did you sleep alright?” no. he did not sleep alright. but he felt a bit better after hearing those words come out of your mouth, truth be told.
after hearing the name (and its subsequent nicknames) on your lips day after day, it began to feel less strange. in fact, he even started to like the way it rolled off your tongue so easily.
and he liked the way you cared for him.
why did you do it?
he didn’t know. he couldn’t even begin to guess why you took on the task of watching after him. he knew how much a piece of work he was.
it turned out that you just genuinely believed in new beginnings and second chances for everyone—and to you, the wanderer, junpei, was no exception.
he was not aware, but the reason you named him junpei was because of the first time he fell asleep in your presence. his face—it was so quiet. his expression was subdued. he had become gentle.
if it was possible for him to look so peaceful in his sleep, then you were confident that he was made up of something much milder on the inside—something tender, something soft, something placid that he had carefully tucked and folded away, hidden from the prying eyes of anyone who would ever try to hurt him again.
but you did not want to hurt him. you wanted to show him beautiful things, wonderful things—things that require that benign temperament to appreciate. and if you had to give him the stars and the moon to make him open up, to make him show you that small, humane fragment of himself, then so be it. you weren’t going anywhere.
he never truly began to trust you until your own insecurities and weaknesses were exposed.
it was beyond the wanderer how someone so seemingly innocent and sheltered could be littered with so many wounds—so many wounds, and so many scars.
but then, under that short cape you never removed, there were the flowers.
pretty flowers that grew from your arms, that sprouted from the ugly gashes like beautiful weeds, that made you feel ashamed and gross. lovely flowers that were not so lovely to you. flowers that illustrated your pain. flowers that only served to make your skin crawl and remind you of what you had suffered.
it astounded the wanderer when you admitted that you had never shared this with anyone else, had never taken your cape off in the presence of another. this was a secret, something special, a sign of your trust and dedication to staying by his side. even if this was your job, he realized in that moment that this had never been just a job to you. you were there for him.
but.. still, he had his suspicions that you only wanted to “fix” him. so it wasn’t until he’d witnessed your composed display crack, fissure, and boil over that the wanderer began to trust you completely.
“jun,” you cried. it was such a helpless, pathetic sight—or, that’s what scaramouche would have thought. but junpei found himself rushing to your side, something inside his chest pounding wildly against the ribs caging it. a feeling of desperation began to claw its way out of his stomach when he saw your tears.
and the flowers. they crowded your arms, one of your thighs. were they lovely, or were they horrendous? he could not decide.
there was one tiny flower on your cheekbone. a small, yellow daisy, poised there as if your face had been its home all along.
the wanderer spat curses under his breath. “you idiot.. you stupid, stupid human..” his breathing became erratic as a violent panic overwhelmed him.
“what did you do?”
his voice was painful and strained. quiet. but most of all, it was angry.
you couldn’t give him a proper response, only shaking your head as more tears spilled from your eyes. and at this, a hole formed itself in the wanderer’s gut.
that old fear. that feeling. that horrible, dreadful, terrifying feeling.
suddenly, he was kunikuzushi again, watching the people he loved abandon him. break their promises to him.
you promised. you promised him.
but hadn’t they all?
what could a promise even mean anymore if it could be so easily broken?
you could see the gears turning in his mind, the rage that you hadn’t witnessed in so long shifting and blazing behind his eyes. and you knew you had to say something.
“i’m not going to die, you know,” you muttered, using what little strength you had to give him a watery smile. “i’m only crying like a little bitch because it hurts, okay, jun?”
his expression immediately shifted, as if the anger had been doused by a bucket of water—but it wasn’t relief you saw. it was sadness.
“i promised you, didn’t i?” you whispered, noticing how his face contorted into something distraught. slowly, painfully, you extended your pinkie from your arm’s limp place on the ground, and though it took him a moment to consider, the wanderer linked his fifth finger with yours.
“you did,” he replied, his voice no more than a whisper. then, humorlessly, he smiled, all color drained from his face. “so you better not break it.”
“is that a threat, my dear wanderer?”
he couldn’t fight the genuine upturn of his lips—you always chose the most inappropriate times to make an attempt at comedy. the wanderer shook his head, gently pinching your unwounded cheek while he chastised you with something like affection in his voice.
from then on, junpei tended to you as if curating a garden, as if you were a little flower he had planted and helped grow all along. not once would he allow you to put yourself in danger—and if you tried, he would flick your forehead and make you sit in the tent in time-out. but if you really pushed him, really, he could get genuinely angry with you, but only because he cared for you. the worst he’d ever do was raise his voice at you, and even then, you could hear in his tone how worried he was under the aggression.
at some point, you realized that junpei had only become this caring since the day he witnessed you so vulnerable. it was as if he had not allowed himself to trust you completely until he was certain that you needed him, too.
you couldn’t blame him for it—you were glad to know that he no longer viewed vulnerability as a weakness. it was a sign that he was healing and finding comfort in something other than the despair he’d harbored for so long.
“juunyyy,” you sang from your tent, where you had been forcibly stowed away under a nest of blankets and shoved into junpei’s suzukake (outer robe). you were sick, and dreadfully so.
when he poked his head through the flap of the tent, the way your face distinctly brightened upon seeing him made the wanderer’s stomach plummet to the floor. granted, you were a bit loopy from the fever, but it’s not the first time you’d looked at him like that. he felt himself falling in love with you all over again every time he saw you—now in particular, since you were bundled up in his jacket looking so awfully adorable.
“what is it?” he asked, trying with all he had to conceal the fondness in his voice with a scowl. your coy smile hinted at his unfortunate failure.
“i have something for you,” you whispered giddily, even though nobody else was around, and there was nothing you’d said that even remotely suggested you needed to whisper.
junpei sighed, entering the tent with an air of indifference despite how his chest fluttered. your childish grin was really making it hard for him to keep up the act, though.
and when you placed a flower crown on his head, taking the time to smooth down his dark, inky hair to make a place for it, junpei thought it was really going to be the end of him.
this is it, he mused. i’ve officially become soft.
what would scaramouche think if he saw himself now?
but.. that didn’t matter, did it? no, no it didn’t. it truly did not matter. he was no longer bound by the person he had been—or rather, the puppet. the heartless balladeer. scaramouche.
maybe you’d seen this in him all along. maybe you’d always known he would thaw out someday. maybe that was why you had called him junpei.
if that was the case, he suddenly realized that you were smarter than he gave you credit for. perhaps he had judged that dense pea-brain of yours too harshly, no?
..archons, but you were still so stupid at the same time.
he found himself scoffing at the conclusions he’d reached about you—and he had the sudden urge to wipe that goofy little smile off your face.
so he threw all caution to the wind, grabbing your chin, albeit a little rougher than he’d meant to. there was nothing stopping him from kissing you anymore, so he did just that. although he was a bit stiff about it at first.
after a few moments, his rigid posture softened, and he let go of your chin to instead cup your face, a surprising tenderness to his touch—at the same time, you recovered from your shock, becoming lucid enough to wrap your arms around his neck and reciprocate the way he pressed into you.
a few minutes later, the two of you were breathless and rosy-cheeked, and the wanderer’s steady hands held you closer than they ever had before. you remembered when they used to shake and tremble—it warmed you to think just how much you’d seen him grow.
even though you’d both surely had your fill of kisses, he kept leaning in and stealing more small pecks from your lips while you dissolved into laughter. every time a giggle managed to escape you, it was swallowed by a chaste, almost playful, kiss, something you didn’t know your grumpy little wanderer was capable of. more uncontrollable laughter soon followed each time his lips left yours.
the wanderer’s assault of smooches finally stopped when your amusement started to die down. the two of you were left with a tender moment as he held you firmly, closely, his eyes making a silent promise to you that he was the one you could depend upon now. that you didn’t have to babysit him anymore. his loyalty belonged to you.
well, it’s not like you couldn’t infer that from the way he’d just desperately made out with you. but the reassurance was nice!
he rested his head on your shoulder, almost in a defeated manner, as if all that affection had truly exhausted him to the bone. you found that very amusing. and of course, as always, you’d spotted the perfect opportunity to say something that would no doubt ruffle his feathers.
“ . . . you know i’m sick, right? ”
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thank you for reading😳
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cupid-styles · 7 months
Text
only angel masterlist (tattoorry/plugrry)
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y/n's parents are wealthy and control everything she does. harry is a tattoo artist who sells weed on the side. when they start to like each other, it feels like everything in y/n's life starts to crumble.
content warnings: smut, angst (all is resolved in the end), abusive parents/bad parental relationships, negative discussions pertaining to weight loss and dieting, needles (one piercing scene), mentions of weed
part one
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re a blushy little thing.” Her jaw snaps closed, wiggling uncomfortably at his blatant call out. Her mother always told her that her emotions were easy to read — she said it made her weak, though.  “I like it,” Harry quickly amends, throat bobbing, “I like it a lot." 
part two
Harry must feel her panicked thoughts rising because he blinks his eyes open to see a prominent furrow between her eyebrows. Without her realizing it, he moves carefully, raising his thumb to smooth it away. "What're you stressing about so early in the morning?" he rasps out. She swallows, moving onto her side to face him. "They've probably issued out a search party by now." "Mm, can't do that. You're not considered a missing person until it's been 48 hours."
extras:
* = indicates smut
december with you* harry's determined to make sure y/n has the best holiday season.
nipple piercing request y/n decides she wants to get her nips pierced and harry can't say no.
playing with nipple clamps (request)*
proud y/n wants harry's support in finding a therapist.
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