#how to grow cherry seeds from seed

[doctorweebmd]

me: *gets up at 6 am, take an hour in my ‘garden’ pruning and mulching and admiring, come back inside for my coffee wiping the sweat off my brow*

me: *vivid flashbacks to seeing my own mother do this half a million times as I was growing up*

me: oh no

[inkskinned]

you get used to it, but it's tiring, because they need you to understand your own life as a series of goalposts. what college are you going to, what's your major going to be, whatcha gonna do with that, oh where will you settle down, when can i expect grandkids.

for the longest time my goals have been so blurry that they track into each other, their undefined edges slipping quietly back into the soft night. today i want to be a writer; tomorrow i will want to be a doctor, later i will wish i took that law school free ride. how the fuck do people just know what they want to do with their life?

where do you want to be in five years? i want to be alive; which is a huge step for me. ten years ago i would have said i want to be asleep and meant i hope that i'm dead by then.

but i want a yellow kitchen and a stand mixer. i want a garden and a fruit tree (cherry, if i can make that happen) and a big yard for my dogs to play in. i want to come home and read poetry out loud to someone and have them close their eyes to listen. i want a summer watergun fight. i want to make snowmen. i want to be the house to go to for halloween. i want my life to settle around me in a softness, for it to lay down gently. if i am very, very, very lucky, i want to travel; finally go someplace overseas.

of course i don't know what i want to be doing professionally. what i actually want to be doing is curling up beside my dog, settling in to read. i want to be making myself a cup of good coffee.

i can't answer the other questions. whenever people asked me what do you want to be when you grow up, i used to say i hope i'm happy.

i hope i'm still kind, five years from now. i hope i never get jaded and mean. i hope i have stayed in therapy. what do you picture yourself doing? when will you actually be an adult about this? why are you so afraid of being ambitious?

am i not ambitious? the other day i rearranged my furniture which doesn't quite fit into my apartment. i watered my plants. i'm going to try to propagate a cherry seed. my five year goal is to spend more time laughing. to lie down in a patch of sunwarm moss. to relax for a minute. to close my eyes and think oh thank god. this is why i stayed. this is finally it.

[rashomonss]

The brothers and the Human Realm

a/n: so ik ‘jealous much’ won the poll but it’s still not done yet so have this instead!

context: a part of me still finds lessons 40-43 funny because the brothers have never really been to the human world that much, and they don’t really know how certain things work. Take the slow cooker and ice cream truck for example. So these are little headcanons I have for when all of y’all are together in the beginning of their stay in the human realm.

enjoy <3 , also these are in no specific order

you all are hopeless…

Solomon and MC would so fuck with the brothers while being in the human realm.

For example they’d take Lucifer to the shadiest mexican restaurant possible then after they finished eating they would tell the waiters it was Lucifer’s birthday and watch the Avatar of Pride sit there with a big ass sombrero on his head as they sang happy birthday to him.

MC later took a picture and sent it to Diavolo who then made it his lock screen.

Satan and Belphie tried to electrocute Lucifer by throwing a toaster in the bathroom while he was in the middle of a shower. This happened after the fact you told them not to put water on the toaster because it could electrocute someone. 

Beel ate an entire bottle of ibuprofen liquid gels because he thought they were hard gummies.

Beel also ate the food and cake shaped wax candle melts you had bought for Asmo as a gift

Beel lastly ate your whole brand new container of melatonin and it knocked him out for 15 hours straight. Needless to say Lucifer was very concerned for his wellbeing, and Belphie soon questioned if you had anymore.

Belphie and his brothers were never taught stranger danger, because who in their right mind would be a danger to them in the Devildom?

So after you had explained to him what an ice cream truck was he vowed to go to one with you.

However when a creepy old man in a white van offers him candy he believes it to be the same as the ice cream truck so he gets in the van.

When the brothers relay this information to you, you begin to lose your shit explaining how that was not in fact an ice cream truck he got into but instead a kidnapper van.

The brothers don’t know how to eat certain human world foods.

Such as a banana, watermelon, mango, pineapple, kiwi, avocado, cherry, dragon fruit, papaya, onion, etc.

So when you first buy one from the grocery store and leave it out before cutting it they automatically think it’s some weird shaped human food and bite into it eating the skin or seeds and all.

After they tell you about the weird but delicious taste of it you ask if they cut it or spit out the seeds before eating it, and when they reply with a puzzled look and a no your heart drops.

Thank god they’re demons. You then proceed to buy the same thing again this time cutting it up in front of them so they know what parts to eat of certain things.

Expanding on the cherry part, did y’all’s parents ever tell you not to swallow watermelon or cherry seeds because if you did a cherry tree or whole watermelon would then grow in your stomach??

I know mine and some of my friends parents would tell us that when I was younger to make sure we didn’t swallow any seeds.

If they didn’t then oh well, anyway…

Continuing with Solomon being an ass, he would so tell something like that to the brothers. If he happened to see Beel swallow a cherry whole he would then proceeded to tell Lucifer not to let him do that.

And when the oldest asks why Solomon would then go onto explain that if he swallows cherry pit then a cherry tree will then grow inside his stomach.

Of course this freaked out Lucifer so for the next hour he tried getting Beel to spit out all the cherries he ate.

You would have to organize their fridge and pantry in the new house because they don’t know which human world foods need to be refrigerated or not.

After you arrive at the house you spent a good three hours explaining to them not everything can go in the pantry because some of it will spoil after you open it.

Then you proceed to gag when you pulled out an expired chunky milk container from the pantry.

They find the concept of drive thru or fast food places astonishing. The fact that you can just order wait in a line for a few minutes in your car then get your food is crazy. They do however all panic though when you get to the front and they don’t know what to order off the menu.

Car washes are also something they found themselves favoring. You would turn up the music as you slowly pulled in and joked by telling the brothers you were going on a ride of sorts.

Which in turn shocked you when they did believed you as the car wash stared. Each of them were staring out the windows with starry eyes as different colors of soap were thrown on your car.

You laughed to yourself as they all admired the way the soap blended together, Asmo and Mammon found themselves taking pictures of the whole thing. While Belphie was telling Beel how this looked like a starry sky.

And Levi went on to tell Satan how this reminded him of an anime scene. Lucifer also found himself sitting quietly in the passenger seat enjoying it too. (Lucifer is a certified passenger princess, fight me on that)

Each brother questioned you on how this was possible and you replied with smile. After the car wash was over and you drove through the dryers they all asked if you could do that again, to which you replied smiling “maybe some other time”.

Lucifer watered the fake succulents and plants you put around the house for two weeks straight until you said something.

They love watching true crime documentary’s to the point you’d have to physically pull them away from the tv.

It happened one afternoon while a few of them were relaxing in the living room and you were looking for a channel to watch.

Deciding there was nothing interesting on you put on an old true crime documentary and began watching it. As the brothers heard the story of the crime from the tv they each became immersed in it.

Telling you things such as “how could humans do that to each other?” or “wow humans are more brutal than we thought” or even adding in their own comments on how they could have made the crime worse.

It became a guessing game between all of them to figure out who killed who during each episode you watched.

Much to everyone dismayed Satan was the one who won every time.

Meanwhile while they were all immersed in the tv you noticed Lucifer standing behind you, arms crossed also watching tv. You told him to sit down and watch with all of you but he denied, claiming he wasn’t really interested in stuff like this anyway.

Yet he never moved from that same spot each episode.

Each of the brothers have made something explode in the microwave.

Lucifer stained it red when he went to reheat pasta, but he put it in for to long and it exploded. Mammon overfilled his ramen thus causing it to leak then explode.

Satan and Levi also happened to be reheating takeout at the same time, but both of the containers were styrofoam and exploded. Levi got annoyed and Satan threw the microwave at Lucifer.

Asmo put some skincare product in there because he found something online about a certain hack, and it exploded causing the microwave to smell like burnt strawberries.

Beel put too much food in the microwave causing it to all melt together then explode.

Belphie put a coffee in there to reheat and it exploded, but he was too lazy to clean it up so he just left it. Lucifer was then next to use the microwave and got coffee all over him.

You made all seven of them watch the entire twilight series as a joke but ironically they all actually enjoyed it.

Satan even went out and bought the books, and finished all of them in about 2 hours

Bonus

Solomon distracted Diavolo for 3 hours straight by making him watch 5 minute craft videos.

Diavolo then proceeded to break things to try these said crafts which caused Barbatos to have a meltdown.

Barbatos destroyed an entire sidewalk because he saw two rats run across it into the sewer.

[spookyji]

jeno baby trapping pretty please with a cherry on top? 🖤🍒🍷

# jeno + baby trapping !!

this one is a bit short but ahh i don’t have a lot of time atm :(

# dubcon + mdni. newly wed husband jeno’s decided he’s waited long enough for you to be “ready”

jeno was patient. he’d waited for what felt like an eternity, waited so patiently for you to say you were ready,,, whatever that meant. but fuck, it’s fucking infuriating to wait, irritation burning beneath his skin every time he hears that you’re too young, it’s too early, there’s no rush? jeno was patient enough already. so what if you’re newlyweds, just married for a month,,, how could it be wrong to want to claim you in the way only your husband can, how much longer of this waiting game for you to be ready, when jeno knows you are? saying you’re still so young to have a baby. and jeno grits his teeth and fucking waits.

until his impatience snaps.

jeno– ngh, c-can’t take a-anymore! your cries falling on deaf ears, exhausted legs aching with every brutally hard thrust, thrown over jeno’s shoulders as his fingers grip your hips hard, bruises littering your sides, your husband’s thick cock buried in your swollen pussy for the nth time,, so clearly having waited so long for to breed you up,, your swollen, abused folds costed and leaking his white seed, drooling his cream on to the sheets beneath you, the lewd, wet squelch of arousal and cum sounding as he thrusts into your spent pussy, stretched you open so much on his cock n filled you up to the brim,,, it’s not enough.

god, this long waiting game, it could’ve been over the night you married him, if only he’d been bold enough to fuck his wife without a goddamn condom,, bold enough to tell you his desires to have a baby. his baby, planted in your pretty body, a claim to you, his wife,,, a testament to his love for you, no matter how possessive. and you’re ready, he knows it. too young? the very memory of the words burns jeno’s skin, his grip tightening on your hips, veins lacing his forearms as he fucks your cunt harder at the very thought. too young. too young to have his baby, to start the family he knows he’s always wanted, to know you’re his from inside and out, to know that he’s the reason your pretty body swells with his baby? jeno’s your husband,,, fuck being too young.

rough, splotchy bites marring your chest, eliciting cries from your lips whenever he bites down too hard,, almost but never drawing blood, but jeno can’t help but think you’re prettiest when you’re covered in his bites,, his wife, love bites impossible to cover, tummy swollen with his baby, there would be no doubt. and fuck, your pretty tits swelling with milk, heavy like your growing abdomen, just glowing and belonging to him, jeno as the reason your body changes,, all because he fucked a baby into your womb. god, as he harshly sucks another bruise, so convinced you’ll be most beautiful when you’re completely his.

and as he fills you up, creamy white seeping from your swollen cunt as you weakly cry out, your pretty body limp beneath his because it’s all too much for you to take,,, jeno’s heart beats faster at the thought of you, unable to take care of yourself without him, needing him, your pretty, darling eyes dripping tears over your cheeks and lips swollen from his kisses,, and your womb bred full of his seed,, he waited too long to have his way.

not my best baby trapping i think i could do better might rewrite this one once i’m off vacation ;-;

[alvojake]

kayla…. words can not describe how much i want to ride this man until he’s creaming everywhere n shi…. like he came so much that we will never be able to cum again. i need to actually be sedated the voices in my head won’t stop.

oh my lord, viv, you are so real for this 😩 and lemme just say that he would turn into such a whiny mess under you.

now, just imagine that on one faithful night, after constantly begging him to let you take over once, heeseung finally gives in, not expecting much from you.

but boy, had he completely underestimated you...

"baby, please... i-it's too much." heeseung's once gruff, commanding tone was now whiny and borderline cries as you pulled yet another orgasm from his sensitive member.

"aww, is my pretty boy overwhelmed." you mocked his whiny tone, rocking your hips against his, eliciting more whimpers from the man, his fingers gripping the plush of your thigh, tight enough you were sure that there would be bruises the next day.

however, despite his cries and moans of it being too much, he still remained hard inside of you. the pleasure completely overtaking his senses as you started to ride him once again.

"you're still so hard sungie..." you cooed at the male, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers pulling on the hairs at the nape of his neck. your soft moans filling his ears making his brain turn into mush.

this cycle repeated until almost every inch of both of your bodies was covered in sweat, tears, and cum. heeseung's seed dripping down your thighs, only an ounce of how much he had come. he lay there on the couch, head leaning back against the back, trying his best to regain his breath while slowing his racing heart, sure that you were finally finished with him.

"seungieee..." you called out in a sing-song tone, gaining his attention as he lifted his head just in time to see you drop to your knees in front of him, his eyes growing wide. his protest was cut short when your wrapped your soft hands around his half-hard dick, jaw clenched tightly, and his head flew back; every nerve in his body was set aflame at your light touches. "you're still getting hard, baby, I know you have another one in you." you mused with a sinister smirk before leaning forward to wrap your cherry red lips around his tip, mind set on draining your boyfriend of every last drop of cum he could offer.

[tojigasm]

Roots

Authors note: love this one very much and have fallen in love with truckdriver!toji, all thanks to @tojipie <33 I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ nsfw, smut, creampie, pet names, smoking, toji vapes, angst, fluff

"And that's how i'm gonna go about–" he pauses to ruffle his hair before meeting your eyes in a warm smile. "You're so pretty," he strokes his thumb over your chin softly.

Smiling, you pull his E-cig out of his lap.

"Why, thankyou." You simmer, hiding the piece between your thighs.

"Hey," Toji laughs, reaching to grab the e-cig back into his lap.

"Lemme finish this one, m'kay?" He sucks his teeth before his plush lips pull back into a sheepish smile.

You deadpan, "I'm not amused." You grab the vape and fall back into the couch. "Besides," you lick a stripe up your lollipop, "thought you wanted to quit."

Silver eyes drop to your thighs, tracing your hiked up shorts that've risen up some, revealing the pink lace of your panties.

"I did." He answers blankly, eyes still trained to your soft legs.

"Excuse me?"

"Do," he corrects himself and quickly looks up to meet your eyes, "I do."

You both watch one another for a moment, eyes narrowing and brows furrowing.

Clicking your cheek, you nod, "m'kay," you shrug lightly, plush lips kissing the sticky candy.

"Fuck do you mean 'm'kay'?" Toji takes a puff of the e-cig and a cloud of mint pillows from his lips, "c'mon, kid. Don't be a hard ass." He groans, dropping his head to the back of the couch.

Rolling your eyes, you crawl over to plop yourself into his lap, thighs on either side of his own.

Soft fingers thread and pull at the thick tufts of raven at the base of his neck, twirling the thick strands of hair around your digits as he shifts beneath you.

The hot bulge of his cock is thick and runs along the button of your clit through your panties and shorts.

Toji inhales sharply, a sift hiss falling from his lips as both hands run up either one of your thighs to cup the flesh of your ass.

"Gotta get back on the road again soon," he sighs, tilting your hand to lick a stripe up your lollipop before dropping his hand down to your hip.

You understand. Life is not something Toji finds easily. You've never known him to grow roots or to seed himself deep into one place and make memories before moving on. He's been this way.

"Gonna take me with you this time?" There's a light hope to your voice, optimistic though you already know the answer will be a definite 'no.'

Toji takes another hit, blowing the smoke to the side of you.

Whisky streams of cloud trickle through his hair before thinning out into the air.

The window is open, and a soft light speckles the tile floor. Trickling in past the tree that sits right next to the outside wall of the living room. The tree that you've asked toji to cut many a time. The tree you climb to watch his truck round the curve of your street. The tree whose roots have reached out of the ground, thick and covered in moss. The tree whose leaves grow and die and never trim. The tree Toji refuses to cut down.

"Kid," Toji's voice breaks you out of your trance.

You hum.

He doesn't say anything, eyeing you some before continuing.

"I just," he pinches the bridge of his nose, "you know how i feel about you out on the road. Can't keep an eye on you sometimes, y'know? Just don't like it."

Shifting your hips some, you nod solemnly, taking the cherry sucker into your mouth again.

"Hey," Toji tilts your chin, pulling the loli from your lips with a sharp 'pop' before taking it into his own mouth. "M'not punishing you," he drops the sucker onto the coffee table.

"Hey," he calls gently, "look at me."

Fresh tears threaten to dress your lashes and slip over your soft cheeks. You nod hesitantly.

Toji notices the tears. Even if he hadn't, He knows you well enough.

He clicks his tongue and sighs before shuffling down the couch by his hips some taking you to his chest.

"Honey," he strokes a hand up your back, and you whimper, "just want ya' to be okay. Okay?"

You nod against his shoulder, whispering a soft 'okay' before he's cupping both of your cheeks and bringing you into a soft kiss.

The bulk of his thighs spread beneath you and forces your cunt to rub against the bulge of his cock.

Hissing, Toji's hands work fast to help push your shorts off and out of the way to pull your panties to the side.

Rough fingers circle your clit softly and massage up and down your slicked folds. His digits press and run along your velvet walls, curling and circling as you mewl.

"Let me take care of you."

—

You hang to him in a sopping mess, arms chilled and tears bubbling over your cheeks as he fills you, stretching you open.

"Fuck," you sob, whining when Toji's hands knead into the plush of your ass. "You're so big," you gasp and Toji groans, "feel so full, oh my god."

Toji fucking moans — hips rutting up at your sobs before he's grouping you in his arms to flip the two of you over.

You lie on your back as he mounts you. Thick and built thighs on either side of your plush ones and heavy balls pressed up against you soaked folds.

You shiver at the angle, girthy length pulling up and down against your gummy walls.

The angle deepens the heat of your orgasm as it ripples through you. Soft legs tremble, and your breath catches in your throat in a shrieked whine.

"There you go," toji preens, kissing your forehead as he continues to thrust deeper into you. A vulgar 'pap, pap, pap' echoes throughout the room.

"God," he groans into your shoulder, biceps pulsing and black tufts of hair stuck to his cheeks and temples.

"Feels so good, daddy!" You sob, arms tremble around his neck, they slip to hold at his thick arms. "Can't—" You cry as pressure builds in your heat.

"Yes, you can." Toji nods, hips grinding into you and balls heavy against your cunt. "C'mon, kid." He pumps into you a couple more times, bulky thighs trembling against your soft ones.

"Shit, m'gonna cum," he warns before he's filling you with a guttural groan, "oh fuck, shit, shit." He hisses, pumping himself deeper into your heat.

The two of you rest for a moment before he's pulling himself from your cunt to fall onto the couch beside you, gathering you in his lap as he does so.

You pant into the soft of his chest, shivering at his warmth.

"Know I'll be back soon," he mumbles through heavied pants. "Sooner than you can say dash."

"Dash," you mumble tearfully, curling into yourself.

Toji pinches your side, sighing when you shy away from him.

Toji's set to leave early in the morning. You know the house will smell of coffee and toast, and you'll find imprints of his work boots over the carpet you vacuumed only a few days ago and he'll leave a wad of cash for you on the counter — he's never explained that part. You often find yourself curating ideas of what his intent may be; guilt, just a gift, maybe just a 'thank you.' Each one doesn't align with him.

"C'mon, let's get some food in ya'." Toji strokes a hand down your back, gently bringing you back to your wet cheeks and shakey limbs.

You nod, sitting up to let him pull up his boxers before making his way to the kitchen.

Sounds from stove and sink fill the room. You can't find yourself to leave the couch, eyes stuck on that willowing tree, and it's leafs and its roots that break away the soft mossy ground and crawl, dragging themselves while all at the same time forgetting what they're attached to.

"C'mere, hon." Toji calls to you.

You take a moment.

"M'coming."

[mianexil]

◇ Your first meeting ◇

(pt.1)

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

💫 [ Ah, that most exciting meeting with a young man, before which you did not yet know that this boy would take that very place in your heart ]

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

ㅡ Umemiya, Suo, Nirei

Umemiya

Your family's flower shop

During the holidays, your parents sent you to your grandmother in Makochi, who had a small but pretty flower shop. Spending a few weeks surrounded by flowers and calmness, away from the hectic and noisy city, seemed like a very good solution.

Today, your grandmother left for a meeting of shopkeepers from this street, so you stayed to replace her in the store.

The sound of the doorbell distracted you from the not too thoughtful scrolling social media feed on your phone.

ㅡ Wel..come

A tall white-haired young man in a funny T-shirt appeared before your eyes. He seemed big, but you instantly felt his comfort aura as soon as your eyes met.

His loud voice brought you out of a momentary trance while you were looking at him.

ㅡ Good morning! How are you feeling?

The guy beamed with a smile.

ㅡ Oh? Not bad, thanks. Are you looking for something?

ㅡ Yeah, I want to buy "Bull's Heart" tomato seeds.

You got up from behind the counter and started search shelves for the right seeds. You definitely remembered that you saw a package with such an unusual name the other day. After finding the right seeds on the farthest shelf, you returned to the counter.

ㅡ I didn't think gardening was popular among students.

ㅡ Oh? But it's a wonderful activity! I have recently ripened a sweet pepper, it cannot be described in words!

You stood and listened attentively as the young man in front of you enthusiastically talks about his gardening exploits.

Something about him got you hooked. He didn't look like the sullen boys from your town at all.

ㅡ I've been wanting to grow cherry tomatoes for a long time. I think I should also look for seeds today.

ㅡ Are you serious?

Umemia's eyes sparkled.

He told you that if you want to grow something for the first time, it's better to start not with seeds but with sprouts. And he just has a few on the roof of the school where he grows his vegetables.

He kindly invited you to come and choose one of them if you want.

And how could you refuse when those blue, almost puppy dog eyes were looking at you.

But, girl, don't think he's just giving away his precious plants to just anyone.

He was definitely interested in you at first sight conversation about tomatoes.

Suo

The tea house (Of course, it's a tea house, how could it be anything else?)

You stood and chose between Bi Lo Chun and Tie Guan Yin. It is a rather difficult choice. Both varieties reveal a floral-fruity taste and a sweet aftertaste. And of course, carried away by your reasoning over the choice, you did not notice how an elegant stranger has been watching you from another corner for 5 minutes.

Suo immediately noticed your good taste. It was not often that he managed to meet the same tea connoisseur of his age in Makochi.

When you were already starting to get nervous from the fact that you couldn't make a choice, a young man in a silk tangzhuang silently glided towards you.

ㅡ Bi Lo Chun harvest this year was particularly successful, and its fragrance is felt more deeply.

You turned at the melodious voice and saw in front of you a mysterious high school student with an eye patch and unusual earrings.

There was something fascinating about him..

The corners of Suo's lips lifted in a friendly smile, while you were slightly confused.

ㅡ Oh? Well, thank you..

ㅡ Can I ask, are you also interested in different types of tea?

Nirei

Anime Store

You were standing at the shelf and looking for a Funko POP with your favorite character from a childish but incredibly cute anime.

Having found the right one, you decided to go to the manga section. You were attracted by the bright cover of one of the manga, and you picked it up.

Then you felt someone's eyes on you. It didn't seem to you. Theree was an excited young man in a bright shirt and round glasses standing to your right. He looked like if he had a tail, he would be actively wagging it.

Damn, he really looked like a cute puppy with that expression and the sparkle in his eyes.

ㅡ Excuse me?

ㅡ Oh! I'm sorry for staring, I didn't mean to scare you, it's just... Do you like this manga too? I have not yet met the same fans of this work, but it is really interesting. And the characters here are very unusual and so well written!

You watched in surprise as Nirei quickly took his notebook out of his pocket and began enthusiastically talking about the small details of the main characters from the cover of the manga that you were holding in your hands.

Such information can usually be found only in special publications or artbooks. God, this guy seems obsessed with this case. Is he really okay?

And yet, despite this oddity, he looked so cute and enthusiastic, telling you about everything that you silently listened to, looking at his freckles.

ㅡ So, who is your favorite character?

ㅡ Oh, uh..I'm not a fan of this manga, actually..

The expression on the boy's face changed so quickly to confused and a little sad that it made your heart ache.

He blushed slightly from embarrassment.

ㅡ Oh..sor-

ㅡ But I'll read it, you've interested me with your words.

It's strange, but when this sunshine smiled again, for some reason, it felt better for you.

◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇

💫 [ Okay, I've already accelerated now ]

[azsazz]

Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices

Daddy!Eris x Reader

Summary: This one is a req from @acourtofmenandthirst: Eris' daughter drawing his scars on her doll.

Warnings: Mentions of scars.

Word Count: 1,639

_________________________________________

Eris peeks his head into the room, amber eyes drifting towards the cot his son, Rook, is currently crying in. The young boy, hardly a year old, has an iron grip on the bars caging him inside the intricately carved wood of his bed. Thick vines and leaves cut into the dark lumber, choked by his little fingers.

Tears stream down Rook's chubby cheeks and Eris coos, pushing into the room. Sunlight creeps in through the light linen curtains. The stained glass creation hung in the window casts colorful shadows across the creamy yellow of the walls. 

“My poor son,” Eris huffs dramatically, lifting Rook from his cradle. He’s clothed in only his nappy, reaching up to cling onto his father’s pressed shirt as if he’ll never let go again. 

Eris hopes he doesn’t. His children are growing up much too fast.

Rook sniffles, resting his head in the crook of Eris’ neck, and hiccups. Eris pats soothing motions into his son's bare skin, peppering his freckled cheeks with loving kisses as he calms his youngest child down. He rocks the little boy, waltzing up to the big windows and pushes the curtains open, letting the afternoon sun shine in full force. The room overlooks the small orchard in the back of his quaint home. Trees he’s planted himself with help from you and your daughters, an important tradition to your family. 

It started on your first date. Eris had already known you were the one—love at first sight—and kept his home away from home a secret from his family, only using it to escape Beron’s throes when he really needed it. Briar, he named it. He had cooked you a hearty meal with the most expensive, luxurious wine he could find, and after a delightful dinner, he’d walked you through the nearly empty rolling hills behind his home, hand-in-hand.

You’d commented how the fields needed more trees and had gushed on and on about what he could do with the space. His shadow hounds had run by your feet, chasing each other through the ankle-high grasses, and he’d immediately taken you to his mount and settled you in front of him, taking the both of you into town to purchase some seeds. 

It has been tradition ever since. Birthdays, anniversaries, births, deaths, any and all celebrations the both of you would go into the yard and plant a tree. Maude loves her cherry trees with all her heart, and Eris is convinced the only reason his daughter ventures outside is to pluck the fruit off the trees and stuff herself silly, stumbling back into the house with stained fingers and lips.

A juniper tree for his other daughter, Juniper. This one was harder to acquire, but thriving well in the backyard, closest to the home. June doesn’t seem to understand the value of the tree yet, but someday, Eris knows that she will.

And a sweet orange tree for his little boy Rook. It had been one of your cravings when you were pregnant with him, and to plant the tree only seemed fitting. Rook devoured any little orange bits he was given with the biggest smile on his face.

He makes a grabby hand for the tree, smart enough to know where his favorite treats are from. 

“You hungry, little man?” Eris asks, and Rook babbles in response. He lifts his son, blowing raspberries on his bare stomach that has cheerful giggles bursting through the room. Rook’s auburn eyes shine up at his father, laughing only harder when Eris catches a whiff of his nappy, grimacing. “Alright baby, let’s get you all cleaned up first.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“Why is our son naked?” you muse, allowing Eris to press a kiss to your cheek while you scoop the last of the cookie dough onto the tray. Your mate and daughters had been helping you, but the girls had been more interested in eating the batter their father kept sneaking them, so you shooed them away to play with their dolls while the cookies baked and you patted Eris on the butt as he went to check on Rook. 

Your son keens, pressing his own open mouthed kiss to your cheek. It’s all slobber and suction, but you can’t help the beaming smile that splits your cheeks anyway. 

“Because he keeps burning them off, Fawn,” Eris answers you, nose wrinkling as he turns to the babe, “Isn’t that right buddy?”

Rook screeches in excitement as his father tickles his stomach. It isn’t abnormal for your son’s power to be flaring up with his emotions. You’d gone through similar situations with Maude and Juniper around this age as well. You still have the burn marks of waddling feet branded into the wood to prove it.

Placing the tray of cookies into the oven, you reach out to take Rook from your mate. “Such a little stinker,” you tease, bopping your youngest on the nose. He retaliates by grabbing a fistful of your hair and you curse mentally, knowing you should’ve tied it out of his reach. 

“Where are the girls?” Eris asks, peeking around the kitchen for any leftover cookie dough. In his mission to steal as much as he could for his daughters, he’d forgotten to sneak a taste for himself. The mixing bowl sits soapy in the sink and he deflates a little.

“Coloring in the den,” you answer, eyes twinkling. Your stomach swoops still at the sight of Eris, even more so whenever he interacts with his children. You knew he was loving, but seeing him like this, completely at ease with no worries tightening his shoulders, he looks ethereal. “Why don’t you get them washed up for some cookies?”

“Yes, please,” Eris says, stealing a kiss from you. Rook squeals and you swoon.

Leaving Rook with you, Eris takes off into the next room. He finds Maude and Juniper spread out on the floor, their coloring supplies strewn about. Thylix and Codon, two of his hounds, laze around both girls, having taken it upon themselves to become their guards. They hardly leave his daughters alone, often choosing to sleep beside their beds at night, though Eris knows his daughters let them jump into bed with them as soon as the door shuts behind him. 

“What are my baby girls drawing in here?” Eris asks, tiptoeing forward. They startle and the hounds’ ears perk up at the sound of their master, but they don’t move. His daughters look up at him with those big, round russet eyes, and Eris knows immediately that they’re doing something they shouldn’t be.

“Daddy,” Maude pouts, hiding something in front of her. Eris’ brows furrow as he wonders what she’s keeping from him, but her younger sister, Juniper, holds her doll up in the air, proudly. 

“Daddy!” June yells, pushing up onto wobbly legs and racing towards him. Eris scoops her up and she squeals, bringing her doll with her, showing off her artwork to her father. Marker streaks across the face of her plaything, reds, oranges, and pinks adorning the cheeks and dress, across the doll’s eye.

“What’s this, Junie?” Eris asks, admiring her artistic abilities. There’s potential, but if she’s going to continue her artistic streak, he better get her something more appropriate to color on. Maybe sign her up for one of the local—or Night Court—art classes.

“It’s Daddy,” she answers, beaming up at her father. His heart swells, but he doesn't seem to be comprehending what Juniper is trying to convey.

He looks around his middle daughter to his oldest, still in her spot on the ground. Her cheeks are pinked with a blush and she’s pouting at her little sister for ruining the surprise.

“Care to explain, Maude?” Eris asks, though he’s not really sure if he wants the answer.

She sighs, shoving up to her feet. She holds up her doll in front of her face like she’s going to get in trouble for what she’s done, but Eris doesn’t understand why.

Until Maude explains. “We drew your scars on our dollies,” she says, and it all clicks. The one across his cheekbone from when Beron has nicked him purposefully with the edge of his sword before he set foot into his first war. His father had said the scar would help him relate to his legion the more roughed up he looked. 

Another, peeking out from the strap of the doll's dress, right above her heart. It’s a rendition of the brand on his chest, another gift from his father. He tries not to let his children see his scars, especially that one in particular, but she must’ve seen it when she’d crawled into your bed after a nightmare perhaps.

Eris’ eyes prickle but he blinks the emotion away. His throat is thick, and he distracts himself by taking a second look at Juniper's toy. Upon catching her fathers gaze on the doll, Maude speaks again. “Junie drew Uncle Lulu’s eye scars on hers. I told her we were supposed to be drawing only yours, but she didn’t listen,” Maude huffs a little, annoyed that her younger sister didn’t follow her direction.

“That’s…that’s very thoughtful, Junie,” Eris places a chaste kiss on her forehead and she grins. “You both did such a wonderful job.”

“You’re not…mad?” Maude asks, staring up at him nervously.

Juniper kicks her legs, trying to escape Eris’ grip. He lets her down and she abandons her doll, racing for the kitchen where she can hear you talking to her brother.

Eris kneels, taking Maude’s hand in his and tugging her into his chest for a hug. “No, Maude, I’m not upset. I’m impressed.” 

“You really like it?” she asks shyly, pulling back so she can look him in the eyes.

Eris nods once, firmly. “I love it, Maude. You made me look perfect.”

[dark-and-kawaii]

I haven’t seen anybody mention this but… being Raphael’s consort or pet and pregnant with his hellspawn, just chilling in the healing bath. Imagine how it would just take away all your aches and Raphael would love to see you lounging there like royalty.

‎‧₊˚✧ [ The Bath ] ✧˚₊‧

‎✧ Awh~ I love these soft little moments with Raphael. Absolutely!!!

‎✧ Content: Soft Raphael - Tender - Loving - Raphael Still Being Raphael

“Such a radiant glow,”is all he said as he lifted up your arm, the warm bath water dripping off the tips of your fingers. His lips were warm against your shoulder, his body firm against your back while he sat behind you, and the way his hand caressed your arm that was lifted into the air caused you to melt against his chest, closing your eyes.

“You always say that when we're in the bath together,” you smiled, the blush on your cheeks a result of both the heat of the water and his body.

Raphael let your arm go, his own coming up to brush your wet hair over your shoulder, exposing your skin to him more. “Indeed, it is a truth,” He pressed his lips gently against your shoulder, lingering as he traveled slowly along your skin to the delicate curve of your neck, “my pet.”

You giggled when his stubble tickled you, “and you are by far the most handsomest of Devil, my dear archdevil.” Your hand reached up from behind to caress his cheek, and you could feel him smile against your skin. You knew that title made his head swell, but no matter, he truly was the most handsome being you have ever laid your eyes on, and you were honored that he had chosen you to be the carrier of his seed, to birth his heir.

As the warm water and his body lulled you into relaxation, his hand came to rest on your stomach, gently rubbing the flesh there, “Mm,” he teased your neck lightly with his teeth, “are you at ease, my little mouse?”

“Mhm,” you sighed, “very much so, Raphael.”

He pressed another kiss to your neck, the hand on your stomach tenderly caressing the swollen flesh there, his fingers brushing lightly over the area just below your belly button, “and how is my child?”

Your body turned so that you were facing him and straddling his lap, your hands coming to find his face and you leaned your forehead against his own, “Do my ears betray me? Or was that a tinge of worry I heard?”

He chuckled, his large hands resting on your hips, pulling you down more onto his lap, his cock stiffening as your heat brushed over him. Raphael was a sight, the water causing his red skin to glisten, his horns horns and wings standing out more against his fiery body.

When you didn't answer him, his voice was low, and his grip tightened, “Answer me.”

You grinned, pressing your lips against his, a deep kiss shared between the two of you, his tongue snaking out and tasting you. He tasted of sin and cherries, something that could never be replicated by the taste buds of a mere human. It was unique, and it was only his, and it was so delicious.

His lips trailed to your ear, a low growl, “Answer me.” He was such an impatient thing.

As your thumb stroked his cheek, you smiled, the answer easy and simple, “He- or she, is perfectly fine, Raphael. They are the child of your seed and the carrier of your blood,” the kiss you placed on his nose was like a feather, and the moan you felt vibrate through his chest was pure heaven, hmph, how contradicting, “Their little body will grow to be strong and majestic, just like their father, and one day will help you reign Hell.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the warm water cradling you both, his eyes boring into yours, watching as you rested your head upon his shoulder. Basking. In the warm embrace of the healing waters.

Your fingers trailed down his chest, over his muscles and along his skin, his tail lifting out of the water and wrapping around your wrist. With a gentle tug, he pulled your hand away from him, instead bringing it to his lips and placing a kiss to the palm.

Raphael's eyes gleamed with a self satisfied glint, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips, “it’s only natural that the child will inherit my grandeur,” he mused, his voice dripping with a blend of arrogance and charm. His hand tracing lazy circles on your belly, as if he were savoring the feel of his own creation.

[breelandwalker]

Sturgeon Supermoon - August 19 2024

Buckle up, witches - we've got supermoons on the horizon and August begins the wild ride!

Sturgeon Supermoon - August 19, 2024

The Sturgeon Moon is the name given to the first full moon in August. The name comes from the plentiful numbers of sturgeon which appear around this time of year.

Sturgeons are living prehistoric relics, examples of which appear in the fossil record as far back as 200 million years ago. Today, they are endangered due to overfishing, pollution, and habitat loss, but giant sturgeons growing up to 12ft (3.65m) long were once a common sight in the Great Lakes and Lake Champlain in North America.

Other North American Indigenous names for this moon include Flying Up Moon (Cree), Corn Moon (Algonquin and Ojibwe), Harvest Moon (Dakota), Dry Moon (Catawba), Mountain Shadows Moon (Tlingit), and Black Cherries Moon (Assiniboine). European names for this moon include Haymaking Moon (Norse), Lightning Moon (English), and Grain Moon (Anglo-Saxon).

It's also interesting to note that in China, the seventh full moon of the lunar year is called the Hungry Ghost Moon, during which spirits of departed ancestors visit their relatives and homes, and trickster spirits may cause mayhem among the living if not properly appeased. Food offerings and incense are put out for ancestor spirits, families visit gravesites to offer prayers and site maintenance, and festival dances and floating lanterns celebrate the honored dead.

What Does It Mean For Witches?

The August full moon is the first of FOUR CONSECUTIVE SUPERMOONS for the 2024 calendar year. So if you've got a lunar magic inclination and the patience for a long-term working, this a great time to start making things happen!

Peak illumination will occur at 2:26pm EST so tonight's moon will be big and bright and full of potential.

August's full moon is technically both a supermoon AND a seasonal blue moon. A blue moon is the second full moon occurring in a calendar month. A seasonal blue moon is the third full moon in a season when four full moons occur. September's full moon falls before the autumn equinox this year.

Both blue moons and supermoons are particularly advantageous times for spellwork, especially that which involves the fulfillment of goals, desires, and wishes, or the culmination of long-term plans. It's also a great time to start new projects and set new goals for the fall and winter.

Supermoons carry your magical workings forward with a little dash of extra strength and vigor, and may provide extra clarity during divination or reflection. It's also the perfect time for spells related to wishmaking and abundance, drawing in the appearance of something long-awaited or extra bit of luck or prosperity you've been needing. And with three more supermoons coming our way in September, October, and November, this is a particularly advantageous time to begin a long-term working that will culminate toward the end of the year.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

In August, we harvest one set of crops and sow another, reaping the rewards of our previous efforts and planting the seeds of future success. Look back on the magical workings you've done so far this year - how are they working out? Have any of your spells produced especially notable results? Go back and add to your notes, making sure to record anything that worked particularly well. (And also anything that DIDN'T work well. Remember that failure is a learning experience too.)

Evaluate your progress and reflect on what you want to carry forward and what you might need to put on hold or just let go for the time being. If you're partial to divination, a reading may help to provide some additional clarity on your current status, as well as some perspective on the possibilities for the near future.

Celebrate the harvest of grain and corn with your favorite recipes or a summer picnic. But don't just limit yourself to corn and wheat! Late summer fruits are also ripe and make a tasty addition to any table.

Set your intentions and your goals for the latter part of the year and start preparing for the autumn and winter. It may seem silly to prepare for the cold when the weather is still blazing hot, but it will be here before you know it. Take time for one more summer beach trip or camping excursion before the hustle and bustle of the fall sets in.

The observation of blue moons and supermoons as magical occasions are a modern addition to witchcraft, but the lack of antiquity doesn't mean there's any shortage of metaphysical potential!

Prepare for a bountiful fall season with lots of opportunities to make things happen. Set yourself up for success by making your wants and needs clear in your spellwork. Attend to practical matters to remove whatever obstacles you can and clear the way for your hard work and magical endeavors to pay off.

Set out a big jug of potable water each month to catch the light of the supermoons between now and November - it will be great for cleansing, protection, wish-making, and drinkable potion bases later! If you've got wildcrafted or garden-grown herbs with a lunar alignment, or which correspond to prosperity, success, and strength, harvest a few this evening and keep them specially labeled for future workings. And remember to put out your moon jars!

All in all, this month's full moon is supercharged with lunar energy and primed for magical workings, so make your spells count!

Happy Sturgeon Moon, witches! 🌕🐟

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts by Bree NicGarran

2024 Witches' Calendar post by Bree NicGarran

Supermoon in August 2024: The First of the Year!, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Hooked on the Magic of August’s Full Sturgeon Moon, The Peculiar Brunette.

Hungry Ghost Festival, China Travel, June 20 2023.

Sturgeon, Wikipedia Article.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

Image Credit: "Leaping Gulf Sturgeon," by Dawn Witherington

(If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, subscribe to my monthly show Hex Positive, or check out my published works on Amazon and in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

[f10werfae]

Pregnancy On The Brain

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry x Short!Shy!Wife!Reader

summary: Now that Henry’s successfully knocked up his precious darling wife, he has to keep an extra eye on her and their little miracle (Dom!Henry) (Emotional loving 🥹)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶

Disclaimer: 18+ / Lumberjack!Henry Masterlist / Henry Masterlist / Full Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Whas wrong sugar? What’s got my woman all teary” Henry frowned seeing his wife all upset in front of the mirror, her lips pouted and her face flustered. “I-I don’t f-fit into my d-dress anymore” Y/n whined seeing how the lemon printed dress barely made its way up her hips, stitches being ripped the harder she pulled on it. “Oi stop it, there’s nothin’ wrong, especially when there’s more of my bunbun to love on” Henry smirked groping the bits of skin Y/n was complaining about.

“B-but- well maybe I-I should e-exercise with you more?” She pondered looking up at him still visibly upset, in fact her chin was starting to wrinkle up from shaking so much, the new changes in her body clearly causing her distress. Henry could tell by the way her stutter started to make itself more visible. “No way. Precious things like you don’t belong on the heavy equipment sweetpea, you want exercise? Let me fuck your pretty pussy till ya sweat” He smirked bending down to nuzzle his nose with hers, his cock hardening once he saw her giggle n latch onto his bicep with both hands.

“T-That’s so naughty” She whispered cuddling the side of her face into his bicep, his other hand pulling back down the dress till it hit the floor, allowing him to play with her ass easily. “Listen while i’m out collecting log wood today, wan’ you to put on another pretty little dress that I bought ya last week, preferably the lilac one, n’ I want you to make somethin’ nice for us to eat when I get home. Can ya do that for me sugar bun?” He whispered running a finger up and down her cheek, his eyes having a dark glaze over them as he looked down at her.

“Mhm mhm! I can!” Y/n smiled happily, the ingredients for her cherry pie already listed out in her head, her cravings for it suddenly growing ten times in a mere few seconds. “Good n’ when I come home, i’ll have a surprise for ya” He grinned kissing her lips softly, before pulling away and grabbing his baseball cap, blowing kisses at her every two seconds as he walked towards his truck. Leaving his wife to her own special mission, the cherry pie.

“Oh I gotta get the cherries!” Y/n giggled slipping on her shoes, grabbing the wooden basket Henry had gotten her especially for her daily walks. Her face vibrant as she skipped down the secluded lane of their back yard, full of luscious fields, heading towards their cherry trees at the edge of the field. Her lilac dress flowing in the slightly cool breeze, her arms swinging the basket back and forth as she hummed a silly little tune she made up. Her eyes widening as she saw the amount of cherries on the tree, there were so many!

“Wow, y-you guys have all grown! Thank y-you so much” She said adorably picking a handful of sweet cherries from one branch, carefully grabbing her glass jar from the basket and plopping them in until it was full. “Well, I suppose it won’t hurt to taste one of ya” She whispered pulling out her blue blanket she always kept in her basket for emergency picnics, her several glass jars of cherries sitting snug inside the basket, while she lay down munching on her home grown fruits.

She still remembers the day she had complained to Henry about his poor eating habits and demanded he bought her seeds for her own plants; now here she was basically nurturing her own garden of babies, ranging from apples all the way to carrots.

‘That one looks like bonnie the rabbit’ Y/n thought looking up at the scarce white clouds flying overhead, her stuffed animal back home looking like one of them, then another looked like Henry’s axe and then one looked like a cherry. “Oh my phone, m-musta left it at home” She giggled realising, her hand reaching for the missing phone to try and take a picture to send to Henry. The warm sun gracing her face, distant sounds of birds providing a sweet lullaby, one which she slowly fell asleep to.

Meanwhile… Henry on the other hand was just about ready to head home, like clockwork he checked his babygirl’s location on life 360, smirking to himself to see that she had stayed at home like she said she would. Heading off back through the country in his pickup truck, he stopped off at a pharmacy by the gas station, picking up his surprise gift for his bunbun; one he knew would solidify their relationship forever. His body sweaty and hot, even though he was wearing baggy jeans a vest, his body painted with a light golden tan.

“Home sweet home” He whispered to himself, dusting off before going inside, remembering how much his precious wife despises their home being messy; Henry still smiles at the memory of her showing her domestic side, how she wouldn’t let him leave without breakfast and would always pack him lunches. Henry on the other hand wouldn’t let her go anywhere unless it was him driving her, after all what else was his purpose other than to look after his naive lover.

“Sugar pie, where are ya?” He shouted throwing his vest off to the side, his boots thundering against the creaky wooden floorboards, his steps leading him into the kitchen; the ingredients for her famous cherry pie laid out on the counter. But no Y/n. His nostrils flared seeing her iphone left beside the ingredients, who knows how long she’s been gone?

‘Did she really fuckin’ leave?’ Was Henry’s first thought, the veins on his neck popping out purely just from the thought, no wonder her tracker hadn’t moved once. Although the thought of her leaving dissipated once he saw Marly the cat coming inside from the fields, their backdoor was left wide open, the sunshine peeking in gratefully. “Ah the fields, the fuckin’ fields” Henry chuckled shaking his head, course she was out there, he knew how much his wife loved exploring the great outdoors; bringing him different coloured rocks and pebbles, watching giddily as he’d place them on the mantle as if they were to be treasured. And they were, because she got them for Him.

Walking out the backdoor he started off walking down the lane, the meadows further away shining green and healthily, but nothing deterred Henry from finding his little love.

Stopping at the start of the line of trees, he saw her, clearly snoring away on her soft picnic blanket; her basket full of jars of cherries beside her. Henry scoffed and smirked seeing just how silly she was, but he couldn’t blame her, not with her current condition. Looming over her figure, she whined and whimpered before opening her eyes fully, a sleepy smile gracing her lips when she realised it was none other than her husband.

“You fuckin’ scared me baby, didn’t know what ta do without ya, ya left your phone n’ everythin’” Henry whispered hunkering down onto his knees, watching as she slowly sat up, her face all puffy and sun-kissed from her nap. “m-m’ sorry I-I forgot it n’ I was too b-busy lookin’ at the clouds a-and”

“s’okay baby, your man knows, can’t blame ya for a little forgetfulness” He chuckled darkly, seeing how sleepy she still was, guiding her to hop onto his back while he gathered up her blanket and basket. “Missed you s-so much” She whispered kissing his back softly as he whistled a tune, “Ah was only gone for around three hours sugar” He chuckled walking down the smooth path, their large luxurious cabin coming into sight. “I-I know that, but I missed you a-anyway” She sighed rubbing her head against his warm back, her eyes threatening to close over once again.

“n’ I missed your pretty pussy-“

“My What!” Y/n’s eyes shot open at her husband’s vulgar words, his back vibrating from his chuckles travelling through, “n’ your tits and your-“

“Stop i-it that’s embarrassing and t-they ain’t pretty mister” She whined kicking her legs which were in his hands, his footsteps stopping abruptly with a deep sigh, “What do I gotta do to prove to you, that I think you’re fuckin’ sexy as hell, n’ I have to stop myself from whipping my cock out everytime I see ya smile” He grunted lifting her up a bit higher before continuing on down the trail, “W-whippin’ your wha out?!” She giggled loudly, her chin resting on his shoulder as she looked at his face from the side.

Henry smirked turning his head to the side, capturing her lips with his, his tongue reaching out for hers but quickly retracting once she wanted more. The tease. “You’re such a m-meanie, no more kissies for you” She grunted moving back to rest against his back, his hand leaving her leg to reach back and spank her ass with a pop; her body jerking up with an excited squeal.

“Try that again sweetheart n’ we’ll see what happens” He growled finally stepping into the cooler cabin, setting her down on top of their counters, beside his plastic bag from the pharmacy which had her small present. “I-is my present in here?!” She said excitedly picking up the bag, only to pout when Henry pulled it away from her grumpily.

“I dunno if you deserve it honey, ya worried me today, had me thinkin’ ya left your man up ‘ere in the mountains” He ‘tsk’ed and caged her in with an arm on each side of her, his nose rubbing up and down her cheek sensually, her hands fisting his shirt desperately as she pouted. “I-I dunno what happened H-hen, I swear! M-m jus’ forgetful nowadays” She whimpered nuzzling into his chest like a kitten, her legs caged around his waist, her face dipping down to place kisses onto his neck and up his chin.

“Alright alright fine, since you wan’ it so badly” He smirked cupping her face and kissing her nose, his hands reached into the bag and pulled out the small box, a clearblue box. “Ya know what this is bunny don’t ya?” Taking out the small stick and twirling it in his hands, he passed it to his wife, who was visibly shocked and shaken at what he’d just given her. “A-a pregnancy test?” She whispered looking at the foreign object, was this the condition Henry was talking about?

“I wan’ you to take it for me babybun, see if we have our present in there already” He smirked nipping her lip playfully, his hand rubbing over the bottom of her stomach affectionately, her small gasps filling his ears. “I-is this why my dresses d-don’t fit?”

“Find out n’ see baby” He smiled taking her hand in his, and pulling her into their large bathroom, with a bathtub big enough to fit four people at the most. “W-will you stay with me? M-m scared” She whimpered pulling up the skirt of her dress, her face flustered at the thought of him watching her pee, but then again this wouldn’t be the first time. There’d been multiple times where he’d simply barge into the toilet while she was in there, just for his routine goodbye kiss before work.

“Don’t worry sugar pie, m’not leavin’, not now and not ever” He smiled, almost sickly, his hands holding onto hers, quite comical because his wife was simply peeing yet needed all the support possible. “Alright pass it over ‘ere” He said watching her finish up, the test still in her shaky hands. “N-no way it’s full of my pee” She gasped horrified putting it down onto the counter herself, turning to distract herself by washing her hands.

Those three minutes felt like utter hell for them both, with Y/n ultimately sitting on Henry’s lap whilst he was on the toilet cover, his voice softly shushing her small whimpers and nervous hiccups as she looked at the test left on the table. “S’okay pretty girl, daddy will look after ya both” Kissing her neck wetly he could already feel her pussy throbbing at his words, even during a nerve wracking situation like this, a life altering moment.

“Ya promise?” Holding his deep blue eyes, her own looked glossy and scared, her hands fiddling with his fingers erratically. “I pinky promise” Linking their fingers together he kissed her lips softly, her head pushing forward wanting to deepen it, she missed three hours worth of his kisses today; she was not having it!

Although their little kiss session was interrupted by the beep of the timer on Henry’s phone, Y/n jumping up to her feet and leaning her head over to look at the plastic stick, her breath hitching in her throat. “what does a cross mean?” Her voice came out dry and hoarse, and for once not a stutter was in sight, she knew what it meant. “My gorgeous little wife is pregnant, with my baby” He smiled to himself still sitting on the toilet cover, he already knew the result, months of vitamins and unprotected sex would eventually have lead to this; all it took was some time.

“I-i’m gonna be a mommy?” Her hand softly slid down to cup the slight pouch on her stomach, her fingers grazing over her fabric slowly, a small smile finding its way onto her cace. “I-i’m gonna be a mommy!”

“mhm, so prouda ya babygirl” Henry smirked feeling up her thigh, his hand going up to grope her bare ass, his new baby momma still coming to terms with the fact she was carrying their little life; yet all he wanted to do was to fuck her good, and if he could he would knock her up again. The idea of his wife all round and big, full of him, got him so hot and bothered, her tits all swollen along with her belly, safely housing their own miracle.

“H-how do we know when i-it’s comin?”

“I’ll sort all that out baby, ya don’t need to worry your pretty self, after-all ya got pregnancy on the brain. Don’t want ya forgettin’ anythin” He cooed standing up to kiss her forehead, his arms enveloping her against him, feeling her nod and relax in his arms. All according to his plan.

After he was finally able to get her to come to bed with him, he found her hands naturally gravitating towards her stomach, her protective maternal instincts already kicking in so early. “I-if we have a g-girl can we name it a-after a flower?” She asked innocently looking up at him, her hands on top of his, on her stomach. “N’ what if it’s a boy babybun?” He chuckled kissing the tip of her nose, “I dunno haven’t t-thought of it yet! Stop stressin’ me out!” She whined almost inaudibly as Henry murmured sweet soft apologies, his lips coating the side of her face in gentle kissies, her favourite.

“T-thought you said you was sleepy” She whispered wrapping her arms around his neck, caressing his nape as he continued to plant little love bites on his lover, his kisses leaving her all hot and bothered. “I am, wasn’t lyin’” Henry pulled back quirking his eyebrow, “T-then tell it to calm down, o-or else ya won’t be able to sleep” Y/n said shyly pointing at the tent starting to grow in Henry’s trousers, ignoring the fact that Henry had basically bunched her dress up to her breasts, his fingers rubbing over her slick wet folds.

“Why don’t you tell my pussy to calm down” He grumbled rubbing her own slickness all over her, acting as if it was lube, his fingers greedily pinching her swollen jutted out clit. “Y-you started it! baby, tell your d-daddy to stop bein silly” She whined looking down and rubbing her still stomach, even though there was still no dramatic visible growth, the potential of it made her emotional and excited.

Licking into her mouth Henry held the back of her neck gently, both of her hands still on her stomach, while his other hand was busy messing with her second set of lips. Tugging, rubbing and spanking at her sensitive button, causing her body to jolt and shiver into the kiss, her tongue actively sucking on his passionately. Her chin slowly growing wet and slick, both of them not caring at how much filth there was. Kissing her sensually one more time he pushed her fully onto her back, his knees straddling her.

“Oh baby I hope they got your eyes, gon’ have me wrapped round their lil finger jus’ like their momma” He groaned seeing her just batting her eyelashes at him, a mischievous smile on her face as she felt up his torso, “I-I wan’ them to look l-like their daddy, s-so handsome” She whispered looking away from his eyes shyly. His hands now pulling the dress up fully over her head, giving her tits a bounce and grope; his voice chuckling deeply in her ear as he licked up her neck, “You’re so g’damn sexy, can’t wait to see ya all full of me, walkin’ around so everyone knows I pumped ya full of my cum”

“mhm s-so dirty” Whimpering and writhing, she felt his fingers go back down to her slick centre, the tip of his cock slapping against her clit roughly, almost imitating the spank of a hand. “Aw baby, we both know you’re the dirty one here, weren’t ya the one beggin’ me to kiss your pretty little pussy the other day?”

“Y-you said if I needed help w-with the tingles ya would help” She whined feeling the head of his shaft slip through her sensitive folds, his nestle of curls at the base of his dick softly scratching against her button, his heavy balls sitting against her swollen lips. His length slowly slipping in through her puffy pussy, both of them sighing out in relief and pleasure as he bottomed out inside of her; Y/n’s hands cupping his face to keep his forehead on hers, nuzzling their noses together for comfort like they always did.

“Gah hav’ knocked ya up and you’re still so tight, almost like when ya were a virgin honey” Henry growled pecking her pouty lips, her voice whining at his choice of words, her legs securely wrapped around his waist. “You take me so well honey, could fuck your pregnant pussy all day n’ night if a could”

“W-well you can, y-you jus’ don’t” She snarked back, clearly regretting her decision straight after when Henry quirked his brow at her, making her shut up in a mere few seconds. “Say that again n’ i’ll tie ya to the bed, won’t be leavin’ since ya want me to play with my pussy so much” He teased thrusting in and out at a slow pace, his one hand cupping her face, while the other toyed with her nipples. “Can’t wait to see these pretty tits fill up with milk, I already know it’ll taste as sweet as you do sugar pie, you’ll let me have a taste won’t ya?”

Small mewls left her slightly opened lips, her eyes widen open and already glimmering with tears as Henry slowly moved their position, where he was now spooning her, their hips smacking together to create a lewd sound. “Mhmhm” She moaned pushing her tits together just for him, knowing how much he adored just simply looking at them, sometimes he’d even hide her bras just so she’d walk about their home, her pebbles nipples poking through the fabric.

“So gorgeous, my pretty wife” He smirked leaning over and spitting right onto the valley between her breasts, hearing her squeak as he watched her massage his spit onto her globes, she was so dirty for him; only him. Before she had met Henry, Y/n L/n would never have even stepped a foot out of line, and now she was the one making the line. Hugging onto her, he kissed her shoulders and back so affectionately, he wanted to make her cum. “I-I love you so much pretty girl, ya make me so happy, you n’ our lil’ miracle” He moaned feeling her clench around him, his hand reaching over to momentarily slap her breasts together, before reaching down and drawing figure eights on her button.

Hearing no reply he looked over to see tears filing down her face continuously, her lip hidden between her teeth as she bit down harshly, her hands fisting the sheets tightly to keep her from squealing at how deep he was going. “What’s wrong bunny? Am I hurtin’ ya?” He said slowing down, concern lacing his voice as his rough calloused hands felt up her sides. “N-no, a-am jus’ really happy, love you too hubby” She smiled blinking away a few stray tears as she turned her head to face him, her tongue outstretched already waiting to tangle around his, muffled squeals leaving her lips as she felt him return back to his rhythm.

“I’m close babybun, ya wanna cum with me?” He asked breaking away from their kiss with a peck, their lips still touching as he spoke, her eyes staring up at his softly but intensely, her head nodding; her lips wanting nothing more than to his his soft ones. Thank God she had forced him to start wearing lip balm.

Y/n found herself clawing onto his arm that was wrapped around her waist, her teeth clenched, sobs wrecking through her body purely just because she felt so loved and so intimate. Henry’s warm cum flooding her almost instantly as she herself felt his fingers rub her button at the same time, her hole clenching around him for the last time, giving out once she let out a raspy breath.

“Did so good for me sugar plum, don’t worry I gotcha, ya can rely on me” He whispered kissing the shell of his ear, feeling her clench around him a few more times before pulling out slowly to not make her uncomfortable. After a few silent seconds of Henry combing her hair back with his fingers, his soft voice shushing her quiet sobs as he rocked her back and forth against his body.

Henry couldn’t help but worry, he’d never seen his precious give such an emotional reaction, had he pushed her too far? She hadn’t used her safe-word ‘cherry’ so he had assumed she was still okay during their intense love-making session. The tiny tattoo of a ‘H’ on the back of her neck receiving wet kisses while he waited for her to calm down.

“Hold on pretty, m’jus’ gonna run us a bath alright?” Receiving nothing but a shake of a head and a ‘don’t leave me a-alone’ He smiled picking her up against his still nude body, sitting her on top of the counter as he filled up the tub with warm water, making sure to put in some of lavender bubbles she adored so much to relax in.

“c’mere sugar, don’t worry i’m here too” He whispered helping her step into the purple coloured water, letting her sit sideways on his lap, her head laying on his shoulder; that’s how big their bath tub is.

“M-m sorry for bein’ a crybaby, I didn’t mean it” She whispered lifting her head up to kiss his beard covered cheek, her energy clearly spent and gone.

“Don’t you ever apologise for bein’ you, what’d I tell ya? If you’re cryin’, i’m here, if you’re angry then i’m here, you’re happy then i’m here. This is for life sweets, nothin’ is gonna put me off ya I promise. Well except sometimes ya stink but-“

“Stop it!” She said smiling a little, Henry’s heart lightening a little seeing her vibe jolt up a bit in comparison to earlier. “Now that i’ve seen that beautiful smile a’ yours, care to share what’s buggin’ my wife so much?”

“I-it really was nothin’ bad. Was jus’ thinkin’ about how- how happy I am w-with you. W-When I think back to when I was 17, I-I was always so worried i’d end up un-unloved because of my problems; but y-you’ve never made me feel like a burden, n’ now w-we’re havin’ a baby together” She smiled finishing her explanation, looking up at Henry with a blissful smile on her face, her hands bringing his to her stomach, “O-our baby” She giggled wiggling excitedly on his lap,

“There’s no other woman on this Earth i’d rather have a baby with-“

“So i-if an alien”

“Shut it you. Let me continue my speech to you now that you’ve done yours” He chuckled sprinkling water in her face playfully, “You’re the one for me, n’ you’d never be a burden because I want to bother with you, I want everything with ya. Gah, you’re just fuckin’ irresistible n’ I don’t think I can live without ya. I don’t know what piece a shit has said things to ya but, you’re my precious sugar plum princess. In our little world, right up ‘ere where no one can get us, I promise to keep ya n’ our little miracle safe. Cause you’re both mine n’ i’m not afraid to show it” He finished, twirling the wedding band round her finger, his eyes staring at her; simply smiling she leant forward connecting their lips together, “N’ y-you’re mine”

———

PSA: I really am proud of this piece, and hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it 🫶

Library blog of works: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting please use library)

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Hope you all have a lovely week🫶

Can’t wait to write more dad!lumberjack!Henry xoxo Fae

[itsvelyria]

"as sad taylor swift songs"

vvv vague references to depression for danny

(not really a representation of the songs as a whole but rather how i interpret each phrase i cherry picked)

Charles Leclerc

and say the one thing, i've been wanting, but no~ 🩵

your phone lights up the dark of your room, you should be asleep at this time of the night. there hadn't been any new messages since Tuesday but here you sat, scrolling aimlessly on social media, waiting by the chat like you were 13 again with your first crush. the squeal of glee and the uncontrollable smile on your face when they would text back — that's how he made you feel. and though the little voice in your head is telling you that everything was wrong, there was no way you would debase your feelings to refute the way your brain was wired to think of him at all times. but as you were flicking through gossip sites, the back of a head that haunted your dreams and nightmares was staring right back at, pressed up against a shorter brunette one — maybe it was time to listen to your brain and not your heart.

Carlos Sainz

tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch~ 🩷

every inch of your skin was on fire, like it was rejecting the touch of the man above you. if you squinted enough, blocked out the light from the living room behind his broad shoulders, you could have mistaken him for a certain Spaniard. except the Spaniard wouldn't have chosen to lay his focus on your neck like this guy you picked up at the club. you couldn't, for the life of your alcohol-riddled brain, recall his name. but you could remember the ghost of a touch down between the valleys of your breasts and that was enough to pry a spine-shivering moan out your throat. maybe if you pretended enough and swallowed the hot tears back, you could pretend he was the person you wanted instead.

Danny Ricciardo

she would have made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head~ 🧡

he knew it when your frame had started curled in on itself under the covers. how you brushed past the stereo you loved to fiddle with on Saturday mornings. how you told him that you'd rather stay home on days you had plans. he felt this clawing in his insides whenever you barely spared him a glance, like he was the extra on a film set who was just waiting around for something to happen. so he did what he did best. he'd called up your mom to ask for her recipes to cook for nights you were too tired to move and offered to dry your hair whenever you wandered around wet hair. when you were fast asleep, cuddled up in his arms, he hoped you could hear when he told you how much he loved you and how he'd always be here.

George Russell

will you still want me, when i'm nothing new~ ❤️

even with your eyes closed on the red-eye flight, you could picture your colour-coded and meticulously organised calendar in your head. that and the thousands of messages from your mother, disappointment reeking from them at your missing of your nephew's baby shower. he was 1, he'd get over it. amongst the messages was two calls to your boyfriend, both left unanswered. the silence feeling like a prelude to something inevitable. images of him laughing with a colleague, your calls ignored, flashed in your mind. the little seed of self-doubt had planted itself a long time ago and bloomed into a voice in your head, relentlessly questioning your every move, every word. you hated it, but when the fire you started grows uncontrollably and you can't stop it, what could you do but let it consume you whole?

Lando Norris

no one could touch the way we laughed in the dark~ 💛

it was like a bad smell you couldn't ignore, the second you stepped onto the hiking path. you refused to come but was convinced otherwise by your group of friends. and with each crunch of the wet leaves under your boot or the distant sound of rushing water, you saw faint wisps of smoke in the shape of someone drawn from your ancient memories, holding your hand and leading you up the slope. hallucinations of a familiar laugh clouded your mind with the hike passing like a daze. the waterfall was still as beautiful as you remembered with the tree where he had secretly carved both your initials just a few steps away. your boyfriend pulled you closer, breaking your trance. his grin radiating at you, you felt the old memories slip away back into the shadows, cupping the chin of your new love.

Lewis Hamilton

you gave me all your love and all i gave you was goodbye~ 💜

sometimes when he glanced at old pictures, the indifference in his chest made him feel like he had moved on. and it should. with every second that slipped out of his grasp, the pain in his heart had dulled and he was busy enough without having to schedule mourning into his calendar. but the glare of his phone burned the picture into his retinas while he was waiting for his next race to begin, he missed the pang in his chest when you first ended the relationship. it was almost like he was losing every shred of you and the ugly feeling in his head raged on. and the next moment, he would turn the phone off, throwing it across his room to bury his head in his palms, the anger redirecting on the pathetic little boy inside him. he should have moved on by now, he knows he should have, but as he glanced at all the faces in the stands, part of him wishes one of them was you.

Max Verstappen

then you won't have to cry, or hide in the closet~ 🩶

you can see it in the darkening of his eyes when he answered his calls. or how his lips pulled taunt after a bad race. he had mentioned some things in passing: details of his childhood glossed over like it was nothing more than a dusty spine of a long-forgotten book. coupled with stories from his family, you had pieced together enough of the puzzle he kept his past. and that tugging in your heart wasn't pity; you could never pity him. but you weren't sure what it was either. and so you kept it quiet, tucking it away in a box, focused on the one thing that did matter — his present. maybe one day, you'll take the box out and rifle through its contents with your lover, but for now, just seeing him hold that trophy was more than enough.

[prying-pandora666]

The Gaang’s Favorite Foods

Aang is an ovo-lacto vegetarian. He still consumes milk and eggs, just nothing that requires killing an animal. Being more used to getting nutrients from a variety of plant foods including nuts and seeds, supported by nutrient rich bison milk and whatever eggs they eat in this world, Aang’s diet is surprisingly diverse and not as restrictive as it first seems. People have and still do eat this way. He loves egg tarts!

Sokka is a growing teen boy, used to a high-fat diet of primarily fish, mollusks, large ruminants, marine mammals (and their blubber), full fat milk, eggs, blood, etc, and only minorly supported by additional foods like seaweed, berries, tubers, perhaps the occasional imported flour or rice. He is going to need a LOT of animal meat and fat. Especially organs. The cookbook says he loves dried salmon collars.

Katara is also a growing teen girl, and considering what starts for girls around her age, she probably also has higher iron requirements. Heme-iron (from meat) is the most easily absorbed, and if it’s what her body is accustomed to, I imagine there’s going to be a lot of cravings there too. It’s possible she slowly converted to a vegetarian diet eventually, but there isn’t actually anything in canon to say that Katara and Aang didn’t just maintain different diets. The comics and cookbook say she likes soups and stews including sea prunes which are actually a type of mollusk.

Toph comes from a wealthy family. Although most of the Earth Kingdom relies primarily on staple grains (rice mainly, but also others), she likely had a decently diverse diet compared to others. Including plenty of meat (beef, chicken, duck, pork), a variety of vegetables, and even luxury items like refined sugar. According to the cookbook, she doesn’t like to eat her vegetables, which implies she had open access to meat for most of her life. She is fond of tea eggs.

Zuko comes from the wealthiest nation which is also in a tropical climate. He’d have access to a plethora of fruits the others had never even heard of! Tropical fruits, berries, coconut, and all the different dishes you can make with them. The nutrient-rich volcanic soil would also lend itself to farming, giving this country plenty of fresh vegetables and staple grains. However, culturally they seem to be a meat and seafood loving people, and spiciness is critical! Being a prince, Zuko would have even more access to all of the above than the common person. According to the cookbook, his favorite snack is sizzle-crisps which is basically fried and seasoned pork belly. He also sneaks Komodo-chicken to his uncle in prison.

BONUS:

Azula, like Zuko, is royalty in a nation blessed with great diversity of fruits, meat, seafood, and fresh veggies. We know she attended a harsh military academy which puts its students through rigorous survival training. Azula knows how to live off the land and likely can survive off of whatever petty things she can forage or catch. But being royalty, she is more accustomed to having whatever she desires prepared for her. She seems to have a bit of a sweet tooth, which can happen when you give a teen unfettered access to luxury goods like sugar. With her nation’s relatively advanced stage of industrialization, certain more processed foods and desserts are available to her. She is fond of cherries and in the comics she is a fiend for mochi!

[dumbslxtclub]

just a taste | e.m - part two

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: a summer pool party at the harrington residence emboldens you to make a move on eddie

content warnings: fem!reader, 18+ for eventual smut, adult language, adult themes, mentions of underage drinking and drugs, reader is 19, slight voyeurism, male masturbation, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it I'm so serious), aftercare

word count: 6.9k+

a/n: this took an obscenely long time to finish and I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. enjoy ya filthy animals, big shoutout to @dickfics69 for pressuring me to write this

taglist: @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @openmouthbeing @ang3lb44by @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bunny7232 @clark7227 @heishalfofmysoul @corrodedcoffincumslut @theywitchesblog @mynameismothra @emxxblog @ms1oftheboys @reidsgubbler @bebe07011 @bl1ssfulbaby @qnsfwthoughts @francisquinn @mystars123 @honey-eyed-munson @littlestarfighter03 @madwitchwithanimpala @allyboa95 @aurora-austen @akiratoro420

Weaving quickly through the remaining partygoers crowded in the hallway, Eddie takes off up the staircase in desperate search of solitude. The house is stuffy, the air even denser in the upstairs landing devoid of drunken occupants. Thick to breathe, he was scrambling to send oxygen back to his brain and collect himself. Guided only by the one light source, he stumbles into Steve’s bedroom, the warm glow of the bedside lamp doing little to quell the heat consuming him. Slamming the bedroom door behind him, Eddie takes a moment to brace his weight against the wooden frame.

Holy fuck.

The image of you remained burned into his mind’s eye, skin glistening under the moonlight like a seductive siren. And god, Eddie would have happily found a watery grave with you. A groan escapes his lips before he can cognize it, mentally slapping himself for ever daring to see you in that light.

You’re just a friend.

A great friend, in fact. Girls like you didn’t typically associate with guys like Eddie, at least in his experience. Frankly, he was shocked when you shot him a warm smile the first time Steve introduced you all those years ago, before wrapping him in a tight hug. He recalls how your hair smelled like white florals with a hint of cherry intermingled, a scent he’s grown accustomed to from countless embraces since. Eddie never expected to grow as close to you as he has. People don’t typically stick around in his life. But you, you’d always been there. Subbing in at campaigns when one of the boys called in sick, starting the mosh pit among the half a dozen drunks staggering through The Hideout, even picking him up when he got too stoned and misplaced his keys. Always with a grin on your face. Always so good for him.

But he couldn’t deny his mounting infatuation. A seed planted in your first encounter has spread like a weed throughout his heart and mind, infecting him with desire. He knows he shouldn’t. But, in his twisted mind, he’s always been able to justify it. Sleepless nights spent staring up at the cracked ceiling of his bedroom, the temptation of reprieve causing him to grip himself through thin boxers, a hiss escaping his lips at the contact. Mind wandering to the images he kept securely locked in the back of his mind, unverified versions of your body he knew would never live up to the real thing. Navigating every square inch of your body, learning what makes you tick, how best to coax soft whines from your lips. Vulgar images flickering behind closed eyes, envisioning how he would pound into you with unbridled force until you were screaming for release. Working himself up to the point of silent whimpers of your name in the loneliness of his bedroom as he shot a hot load into his clenched fist.

It felt so wrong.

Yet he did it anyway, cursing himself all the while.

“Fuck, pull yourself together, Munson.” Prying himself off the door, his hands find his face in exasperation before he makes his way to the bed. The backs of his knees hit the frame, relinquishing his full body weight to the mattress with a thump. Eddie sighed, squirming with discomfort.

From this angle, it was hard to ignore the growing situation below his belt. His cock strained against the tight denim of his jeans, begging for attention. Eddie knows what he should do. Wait it out. As long as he’s away from you, it’ll go away sooner or later. 

But shit- the image invades his mind as he places you in the house once again, submerged in the tepid water of the Harrington pool. As you sauntered over to him earlier in the evening, he didn’t think he could get luckier than seeing your dress hiked up an inch further. He must have racked up some good karma in a past life, convinced he was hallucinating as you peeled your summer dress off your frame at the edge of the pool. The delicate lace of your bra perfectly hugging the curves of your breasts, nothing but thin material separating him from glimpsing what sat underneath. And god, the barely-there cut of your underwear giving him the perfect view of your ass from where he sat. Eddie could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve that indulgence again. So soft, so sweet. Far sweeter than the sugary buttercream you slathered Steve’s cake in. The sticky icing that melted away on your warm tongue, lips engulfing his finger rendering him completely at your mercy-

So lost in his indulgent fantasies, Eddie begins pressing his palm down over his bulge, desperate for relief. The pressure is like a balm to a wound, gratifying but not nearly enough. He needs more. Cock achingly hard and neglected, he weighs up his options.

Splash some water on his face, tell himself to get his shit together and join in with the festivities downstairs.

Or-

The party is dying down now. Most of the remaining guests are scattered in the backyard, no one with any cause to venture up here except for Steve. And with the state of the birthday boy, Eddie fathoms that Steve’s arrival up the stairs would be noisy and clumsy at best, plenty of forewarning.

He only needs a few minutes, to clear his clouded mind, to exorcize the tortuous control that lust had taken over his body.

Against his better judgment, Eddie makes quick work of unbuckling his belt, tearing his zipper downwards before slipping his hand into his waistband. The relief is instant, wrapping his fingers around the throbbing shaft to give it a testing squeeze. The cool metal of his rings cause him to jolt, the contrast against his hot length jarring in the most delicious way. With a testing pump, Eddie’s chest seizes with sheer pleasure. The danger of the situation only heightening his arousal, the soft thrum of the stereo downstairs providing a distant soundtrack for his debauchery. A bout of laughter from outside sounds familiarly like yours, chesty and melodious. It causes the metalhead’s heart to skip a beat, thumb grazing the precum-slick head before pumping his length slow and firm. He envisions you, weightless on the surface of the pool, staring up at the sky. How water would creep into the grooves of your navel, coursing through the valley of your breasts, soaking the thin lace of your bra-

A sigh escapes his lips, already too worked up to continue at an agonizing pace. But Eddie is a glutton for punishment, granting himself more than he deserves and less than he desires. God, it’s pathetic, really, how you’ve got him wrapped around his finger. His hips keened upwards, bucking involuntarily into his firm grip. His breathing is erratic, abdomen clenched with tension screaming to be absolved. Steadily, he picks up his pace, each stroke like a jolt of electricity through his system. He throws his head back against the checkered duvet, eyes squeezed together as he lets the perverse images flood his imagination. 

With a breathy sigh, your name escapes his lips like it was permanently intermingled with the oxygen filling his lungs.

“Shit-” He mumbles, zoning out to the slick noises filling the room. “- always so fucking good for me.”

The creak of the door does little to mask the sounds within, now more prominent as you stand at the threshold. At first, you can’t make heads or tails of them, soft moans causing your ears to perk up with interest. 

Who is that? Are they in pain? Should you help them?

Cautiously, you stand stock-still in the doorway, heart rate quickening with the prospects of what lay behind the partition. Thoughts run through your mind like a freight train, perhaps you should run downstairs and drag Steve out of the pool to help-

But there’s something comfortingly familiar about the low sighs. Gravelly, eluding the utterer who grows unconsciously louder. An echo of grunts you’d heard around the DnD table, escaping under the breath of your close friend.

Oh, god.

Fuck.

That’s Eddie. 

And he’s with a girl.

Puffs of unsteady breath fill the otherwise quiet room, a rhythmic pace of skin on skin so carnal it causes your blood to run cold. It’s undeniable now, and the muscles of your palms freeze against the wooden frame.

A pang of jealousy kicks you deep in the gut, sloshing around bile and liquor before alchemising it with rejection. Sickly bitter, coating your tongue with a metallic taste as reality crashed into you. Fuck, you really never had a chance. So stupid, so-

Until you hear it.

Your name, barely louder than a whisper, uttered in the most sultry, raspy voice, a pleading breath. 

It’s decadent, moreish, the way your name rolls off his tongue like sweet honey, dripping with worship. Your traitorous body evades your brain’s orders, an internal war being waged between nerve endings. With tentative hesitation, you push the door slightly further ajar, warm light cutting through the dark hallway carpet. Curiosity driving every deliberate move, fingertips barely grazing the oil-glossed door edging it further open. Bare feet tip-toeing across the doorway, the last of the pool water finding a new home in the woven fabric beneath you. 

“Shit-” The voice grunts lowly, your breath hiking in your chest. Edging closer, just a glimpse… “-always so fucking good for me.”

Peeking around the corner of the door, you’re confronted with an image you were not expecting. Laying atop the bedspread, sprawled out, is Eddie. It’s now undeniable, the source of these sounds, his hand vigorously moving within the confines of his boxers. Slick, lewd noises with every motion, eyes squeezed shot and face contorted into a euphoric grimace. 

You should back out, quietly, leaving no indication that you were ever here. You should give him privacy, knowing you’d want to be granted the same kindness if the roles were reversed. You should greet him tomorrow as if nothing ever happened, like you don’t know the way he utters your name so sweetly while he fucks himself.

But you don’t.

Because you’d be lying if you didn’t acknowledge the pooling wetness between your legs, the throb beginning in your core like a tightly wound coil now coursing through your entire body. The way his soft, whimpering moans turn your brain to complete mush, driven by nothing but to evoke more.

“Eddie.” His name slips through your lips involuntarily, both a question and a sigh. As if to just taste it on your lips, learn how it can sit on your tongue differently, speaking your desire into existence. 

While your tone is hushed, Eddie would recognise your voice anywhere, like he’s finely attuned to it. Instinctively, his eyes shoot open, breath catching as he quickly ceases his debaucherous motions. He lurches upright, cheeks quickly flushing a crimson shade of embarrassment, chest heaving unsteadily beneath his band t-shirt.

“Fuck!” Eddie scrambles, his movements a distinct contrast to your grounded demeanor. “Oh my god- shit. I- I’m sorry. That- that wasn’t…”

“You were thinking about me?” Heart pounding, you steadily take a further step into the stuffy bedroom, drinking in the way the bedside lamp sculpts out the finer details of his jawline. His eyes lock into yours, wide and unguarded. Eddie doesn’t respond, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The metalhead looks taken aback by your boldness, slightly shrinking back into himself. His fly is still open with his aching cock throbbing against the thin material, feeling entirely too exposed. 

“I- I, fuck. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Answer the question.” Without even the slightest quiver present in your voice, your eyes lock onto the boy clutching fists into the bedspread. There’s something so reassuring about your confidence, the bluntness of your interrogation. Empowering, even, inviting Eddie to attempt an equally honest response.

“Yes.” He sighs out, emptying his lungs of the air he had so desperately been clinging to.

And with that, your hand finds the doorknob and closes the door behind you. As the latch clicks closed, the intimacy of the small room hits you, now existing in a world with only two occupants. Never breaking eye contact, you pace to the edge of the bed, towering over the boy sprawled across the comforter. Doe eyes boring into yours with a marriage of fear and intrigue, well aware of the submissive position he’s placed himself in. Gaze darting around your indecipherable expression, looking for any indication of your inner monologue.

“Are- are you angry?” He asks, a flicker of vulnerability flashes past his irises, not daring to move a muscle. 

“No, I’m not angry.” Demeanor softening with an upturning of the corners of your mouth, an instinctual need to take care presents itself.

“Because, I- I totally get it you are-”

Oh, Eddie. Sweet, never-knows-when-to-shut-up Eddie. Running his mouth with rambling apologies, as if voicing enough regret could turn back time. A boy like this needs more than verbal instructions. Sometimes, they need to be shown how to shut up.

His diverted gaze flicking frantically across the room in search of a half decent excuse proves to be the perfect distraction, giving you enough time to press a palm firmly across his mouth. The sudden contact is a balm over the wound, suspending the poor boy in time. Rendering him helpless, as all he can do is stare up at you with astonishment, a flicker of curiosity playing in his brown eyes. Bending down to his level, you can now make out the most imperceptible freckles dotting his temples, tiny constellations you’ve been dying to discover, blood-vessels flooding and bursting across his cheeks with every agonizing second.

“Is this okay?” Words smooth like honey drip from your lips, relishing in how Eddie has no choice but to lap it all up. After a beat, he slowly but surely manages to nod his head, likely now devoid of any blood.

“Good.” A low groan escapes his throat at your praise. “Do you want me to go?”

Eddie shakes his head vigorously beneath your vice grip, never breaking eye contact as he clings to your every word.

“I’m gonna give you two options. Either you can tell me everything you were thinking about-” The metalhead physically recoils, embarrassment flooding his ruddy cheeks once again. “Or, you can show me.”

Eyes growing impossibly wide, Eddie seems to lose his grip on reality completely. His gaze drags down the expanse of your torso, drinking in the way the damp material of your dress clings to your chest. The hemline drips with chlorinated water, splashing down onto his jean-clad thighs, muscles tense beneath the constricting material. Every pitter patter hitting his legs charges bolts of electricity down his limbs. 

Fuck it.

In one swift motion, Eddie’s fingers wrap around the hand clasped to his lips, tearing it down. The movement tugs you firmly towards him, and he wastes no time in crashing his lips to yours. Needily hungry, he devours you with such fervor it sends you toppling further into his frame, catching yourself on his broad shoulders. His palms find the back of your knees, scooping you into his lap, kneading and squeezing at your supple thighs. Wet fabric around your midsection clings to your hips, riding up with every rut forward further into Eddie’s lap. Bare legs bracing his, the only saving grace from the thick denim is the cotton fabric of his boxers, still exposed. He gasps into your mouth. With a particularly directed grind, Eddie feels the lace applique of your panties drag across his length, still embarrassingly hard from his previous efforts. The sudden friction causes him to buck up into your heat, head lolling back with ecstasy. Eddie seizes this opportunity to latch onto your neck, biting and sucking at your pulse point with such intensity you doubt the mark will last less than a week. His wandering hand keeps your jaw hinged skyward, grip firmly locked under the bone to ensure his assault is not short lived. Like there was any chance you would deny yourself of this, mind foggy with desire.

“Fuck.” Eddie drawls against your skin, your hand tangling itself in his hair with a small tug. “Whatever you want, ‘ts yours. Please.” 

Emboldened, you drag a deliciously long grind against his cock, throbbing with need. “I want you to show me everything.”

The boy beneath you fucking growls, and you know all bets are off. Whatever cat and mouse game the two of you have been unwittingly engaged in for god knows how long has come to an end. Because, in an instant, he’s gripped your ass with such force that marks are destined to form and flipped you over onto the bedspread. Sprawled out and waiting, it’s easier to notice the lustful glint in Eddie’s eye. Something powerful, something you hadn’t seen from him since your encounter began. After riding the high of being in control, getting drunk off power, placing the metal head in a position of submission, it’s lost in a second. Tables turn. Winning at your own game. Eddie’s gaze devours you. Braced on his knees between your legs, he wastes precious seconds by drinking in the vision of you, every square inch of your quivering body. The shaky rise and fall of your chest, the ruching of your sopping summer dress around your midsection, the way your legs settle into the small of his waist. He can’t get enough. Eagerly, he doubles over to trace peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, hitching your leg up at the knee. It makes you keen, rough lips meeting supple skin again and again. Too much and not enough. 

Abandoning his exploration, he returns to your mouth with equal intensity, slipping his tongue through your parted lips to taste you properly.  

“Can-” Eddie pants into your open mouth, clawing at whatever he can reach. “Can I go down on you?”

A moan escapes your lips as an involuntary response. “Mhm…” 

“Need to hear you say it.” His tone is crystal clear, thumbs rhythmically circling your thigh with reassurance. 

“Want you to go down on me, Eds.”

Your friend’s groan is downright sinful, landing one more chaste kiss on your lips before trailing down your neck to your decolletage. Greedily, he laps at the curve of your breasts, cupping them beneath and allowing himself a squeeze. You writhe beneath his touch, praise spilling from your mouth like gospel. His hands find the small of your waist once again, leveraging himself lower to where you need him most. 

Lust renders his eyes a shade darker than before as he stares at your clothed heat, the floral applique clinging to the grooves of your pussy. Begging to be tasted.

Teasing, at first, he simply lowers his mouth to the gusset, an exhale making contact with the damp material and sending a fresh wave of want coursing through your core. Nosing gently at your mound, the contact is like an electric shock, legs spasming with sensitivity.

“Already so eager for me.” He mumbles, more to himself than you. Relishing in it, the spell he’s placed you in, squirming helplessly at his mere touch. Mercifully, he places his lips to your heat and kisses firmly against the fabric, doing little to satiate you. He takes note of every little spasm, reading you like a book he can’t get enough of, adapting accordingly. He indulges in teasing. Tongue meets the edge of the lace, kitten licking at the sensitive skin, his hands grasping and kneading at the flesh of your thighs. Hooking his middle finger under the thin material, he drags it aside at an agonizing pace. A sigh falls from your open mouth as cool air hits your wet heat, practically clinging to your opening from how much Eddie’s wound you up in such a short time. 

“Fuck, so perfect…” Hooking his arms under your thighs in a tight hold, he pulls you closer to his flushed face. He’s devouring you before his tongue has the chance to reach you, gaze fixated on your sopping pussy. Within a second, he’s latched onto your cunt, tongue lapping at your folds, needing to taste every drop of you. It causes your back to arch off the bed, knees coming together to keep him locked in place. Spurred on by your reaction, Eddie begins kitten licking at your opening, moans vibrating into your skin. God, it’s fucking heavenly. And then he looks up at you. Wide, bambi eyes, brown pools swimming with euphoria, heavily lashed and drinking in your expression.

“Oh, fuck. Eddie-” The mere mention of his name beckons him closer again, locking his arm around your waist and bracing his wrist in a vice grip. You’re not going anywhere, not that you’d dream of leaving now. His nose bumps against your clit as he dips his tongue into your opening, sending a fresh bout of shockwaves through your system. Instinctually, your hand tangles itself into the crown of curls adorning his head, fingernails scratching at his scalp. Clawing to keep him close to you, the coil in your belly tightening with every motion of his wicked tongue. Your breath picks up, chest rising and falling unsteadily while Eddie continues to lap and suck and explore. Inhaling enough oxygen for the two of you, the boy between your legs prioritizing pleasure over breathing. Suffocating himself in the name of ecstasy. Surrendering himself at the altar between your legs.

“Tastes so good…” He mumbles against your clit, every vibration of his praise shooting through the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your orgasm is approaching like a runaway freight train, embarrassingly fast and with no sign of halting. The muscles in your glutes begin twitching and jumping uncontrollably, fingers weaving their way further into the metalhead’s knotty curls. 

“Eddie- shit, I- I’m…” God, the way his day-old stubble scratches against your inner thighs is sending you hurtling towards the edge.

“Thought about this for so long.” It’s a miracle this boy can find time to speak amidst his focused sucking, yet he’s found a way to do both without compromising quality. “How you’d taste, all the pretty noises you’d make, watching you cum all over my face, fuck-”

That does it. The rubber band snaps, your skin buzzing with stimulation. Head thrown back against the bedspread, the flushed expanse of your neck lengthens while a long, open-mouthed whine fills the room. Melting into the thick cotton, surrendering your jelly-like limbs to its soft reprieve. White-hot pleasure courses through your veins, stemming at your core which is now being lapped at as if not to miss a single drop of your euphoria. Mind going blissfully blank, you can only bring yourself to chant out the name of the boy buried in your cunt, over and over again like a Hail Mary. Mercifully slowing his ministrations before overstimulation takes over, but greedy enough to linger a moment longer. Giving you a chance to return to your body, the sounds of your own pants finally cutting through the static in your eardrums. His chin glistened, plump lips shining with your release parted as he catches his breath, gaze returning for yours in search of reassurance. 

With a hand under his chin, you guide him back to your wanting mouth.

“Please, Ed. Need a taste-” Wasting no precious seconds, you lunge forward to kiss him. It’s sinful, the tangy, metallic taste lingering on his lips, your tongue devouring every drop of it. The boy above you braces himself on his forearms, grinding his crotch into yours. 

Every drawl of his hard length against your pussy is electric, the brush of soft cotton against your sensitive bud winding you up all over again.

“What do you need, sweet thing?” Eddie mumbles into your mouth, hand running up your side, the fabric of your dress ruching further up your torso.

“Want, shit-” Latching onto that sweet spot just below your jawline, he has no trouble drawing another wanton moan from your chest. “Want you to fuck me, please.”

Every muscle in Eddie’s sinewy body seizes, eyes meeting yours with disbelief.

“Fuck, are- are you sure?” God, he really is so sweet. Even after devouring your pussy, he’s still treading lightly. Not wanting to push his luck too far, to break the illusion unfurling before his eyes.

“Yes, Eds. Please, want it so bad.” Combing your fingers delicately around his hairline, you take to peppering reassuring kisses along his jawline. He groans, unable to starve him of his own pleasure any longer. 

Reluctantly pulling away, he quickly tears his shirt from his sweat-clad frame, allowing you to fully indulge in the artwork scattered across the pale canvas of skin. They warp and move with every flex of muscle, coming to life. The spider on his collarbone spreads its gangly legs, the bats on his forearm warp and take flight. How lucky they are, to be etched permanently to his body, tasting his sweat. His talented fingers hook under the lip of your dress, pausing for confirmation.

“Can I?” You nod, shimming forward and raising your hands skyward so he can peel the damp dress from your frame. The cool air hits your skin, erupting goosebumps in its wake. Inch by inch, the wet material is pulled from your torso before being tossed aside carelessly. Eddie had seen you, in this exact state, just before poolside. But now, under his watchful eye, you feel entirely exposed. Shy, suddenly anticipating the criticism you freely dish out to your own body in the mirror. 

“God-” Eddie exhales, cupping your breast and kissing the expanse of your collarbones down to the plumpness encased in lace. “It’s like you were made for me.”

His hands snake around your back, fumbling with the hooks of your bra. With a tug, the lace falls away from your frame, straps limply hanging off your shoulders. Eddie pulls the bra from your figure and drinks you in, eyes darting from your face to chest like he doesn’t know what to taste first. He mumbles praise under his breath, choosing the haven of your lips to explore once again. With a hand gently cupped at the nape of your neck, he directs you to lay back, quickly tugging one of Steve’s pillows down to support your head. Every motion is so thoughtful, so soft. You want him to destroy you.

Fumbling hands eagerly meet his waistband, giving the jeans an indicative tug. Eddie catches on, swinging off the bed and stumbling to his feet. He drags the denim down his legs entirely ungracefully, tripping slightly as the material gets caught on his ankle. It momentarily breaks you out of your lustful daydream, he’s still the same clumsy boy you know and love. Just now without so many clothes. 

Without the obstruction of denim in the way, it’s easier to make out the unavoidable shape of his throbbing length through the thin cotton boxers. The sight alone sends a shiver up your spine. He’s really working with a lot. 

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.” His signature cheeky tone cuts through your fantasy, crawling onto the bed between your thighs. Any momentary nerves you’d been experiencing quickly evaporate, you know you’re safe with him. “You ready?”

“Yes, Eds.” At least, you thought you were until he drags his boxers down, his cock springing free from its confines. It slaps against his happy trail, leaving a delicious trail of precum in its wake. It’s everything you’d envisioned, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. The flushed, pink tip leaks a bead of precum down the length of his veiny, uncut shaft. Begging to be tasted.

Greedily, you lean forward, but Eddie is quick to stop you with a gentle hand, pushing you back onto the bed.

“Sweetheart, as much as I’d love your mouth around me right now, I really don’t think I’d last very long.” He chuckles, wrapping a ringed-hand around the base of his cock. He drapes himself over you, bracing himself on his forearm next to your head. The tip prods against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness. Teasingly, he rubs his weeping tip through your folds, catching on your clit with every nudge. 

“Eddie, please…” You’re not above begging right now, pulling your lacy underwear further to the side.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Eddie continues his tortuous motions, clearly relishing in the reaction he’s getting from you. “Use your words, c’mon.”

“Need, fuck-” The tip of his throbbing cock prods at your entrance, your back arching instinctively to meet him. “Need you inside me now.”

Eddie chuckles sadistically, the hand on his length now gripping your waist, fingers digging into the supple flesh. With one fluid motion, he drives his cock deep into your pussy, earning a loud gasp from you. God, you feel so fucking full. Like you can feel him in your throat. His hand snakes up your torso, finding solace at the nape of your neck before he leans in to kiss at the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

“Good girl, shit…” He grits through his teeth, like he’s a second away from losing all control. Muscles tense and contract beneath his skin, a thin layer of sweat already making itself known on his chest. You are powerless against the sound that escapes you at his utterance, something needy within you making itself known. The pet name echoes over and over like a record, and the effect isn’t lost on Eddie. He chuckles under his breath, slowly dragging his hips back before thrusting all the way back in with abandon.

“Eddie, fuck. God, you..” The sentence is only partially formed before it’s knocked out by another firm thrust, Eddie setting a brutal pace. You claw at this back, digging fingernails into soft skin as your brain struggles to process the overwhelming pleasure. 

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” He practically purrs, hot breath against the shell of your ear bookmarked with a sweet sigh. The tip of his nose runs against your jawline as he makes his way up to meet your gaze, pupils blown-out with lust and mouth parted.

“Yes… oh my god.” A proud smile crosses Eddie’s lips, the signature grin that’s played a large role in your infatuation. Dimples depressing into the skin of his cheeks yet to be marked by your lips, his contagious joy spreading to the crow’s feet delicately dancing around his dark eyes. The smile barely flickers while a loud groan of pleasure echoes in his chest.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good-” His eyelids flutter as the white’s of his eyes become momentarily prominent. He picks up his pace slightly, rutting steadily enough for you to feel the tip of his length prodding at that particular spot deep inside that causes you to flinch. Eddie braces himself on his forearms beside you, either hand haphazardly tangling itself in your hair to cup and caress. “Yeah? That the spot, sweetheart?”

Whining is the best you can do right now, a pathetic little noise of agreement. Eddie chuckles to himself, continuing to nudge exactly where you needed it most. Running your hands along his sweat-laced back, goosebumps erupt in your touch’s wake and you feel as his ribs expand before the sweetest little whimper falls from his lips. 

“God…” His nose scrunches up in concentration, a fist balling up the bedsheet beneath you to brace himself. A huff of air brushes against your cheek as he drives his cock deeper into you, stretching you out deliciously. Every long drag of his length brings you closer and closer to release, your walls spasming around him. “Jesus, so fucking tight-”

Bearing his weight on one tensed forearm, his free hand locks under your chin, forcing your blissed out gaze to meet his. 

“Open.” It’s a simple command, and one that you obey instantly. Your jaw drops open, tongue lolling out as Eddie’s lustful gaze turns even more hungry. His middle and ring finger, each sparkling with silver decor, dip into your waiting mouth, dragging salty fingertips across your tongue. Instinctively, your lips close around his digits, and Eddie lets out a soft groan before.

“Perfect…” His praise is absent-minded, indulging in the sight of your mouth encasing his fingers. He sighs, eyelids growing heavy with wanton desire. Slowly, he withdraws his fingers before snaking his hand down your abdomen, finding solace at your clit. Dragging motions in agonizing circles on your bud of nerves, he quickens his pace, skin meeting skin filling the room with almost pornographic sounds. It’s wet, slick, messy and desperate.

Every sense is filled to the brim. The calluses of Eddie’s talented fingers working just the right amount of pressure against your clit, silver rings clinking together sporadically with his ministrations. Each deep and needy thrust wafting the mouth-watering scent of tobacco and vanilla dripping from his sweaty pulse-points into your direction. His blown-out pupils beneath half-lidded eyes and the lopsided grin on his face as he chuckles to himself in sheer awe of the situation. Bangs clinging to his damp forehead, the ends of his curls kissing your collarbone with every dip forward of his wanting mouth, desperately kissing and nipping at the skin of your neck. With a long drawl from nape to nose, the taste of his lips is pure phantom desire, every lap of his tongue against yours a delicious marriage of smoke and frosting and fervor. But the most indulgent of these sensory experiences is the soft pants and sighs leaving Eddie’s lips with exertion, the breathless laughs that morph into vocal whines with every long drawl of his hips. His pace quickens, needy bucking of his hips into yours, the tip of his cock colliding perfectly with that spongy spot over and over. The consistent rhythm combined with the small but firm circles on your clit are driving you absolutely crazy.

“God, you- you have no idea how- fuck, how much I’ve wanted this.” Eddie shakes his head, his gaze meeting yours. “Every goddamn night, you’re all- all I can think about.”

His words are enough to pull another whine from your aching lips, as if a silent beg for more. 

“And then, Jesus- when you wrapped your lips around my finger earlier, I nearly lost control. Was ready to throw you over the kitchen counter and fuck you in front of everyone, didn’t care who saw-” A deep groan grumbles in his chest, muscles tensing and flexing with each laboured thrust. Driving himself deeper into your wet warmth, burying his cock in you.

You can still taste the sugary sweetness on your tongue, the firmness of his pointer finger dipping deep into your mouth, the cool metal of his rings against your sticky lips. The memory combined with the drawl of his veiny cock against your contracting walls.

“Eddie! Oh- right there…” Eddie seems oblivious to his effect on you, dipping his lips towards your jawline, licking and biting the soft flesh.

“You knew what you were doing to me when you jumped in the pool, didn’t you?” His movements grow desperate, every snap of his hips and revolution of his talented fingers on your clit driving you further into oblivion. “And then you looked up at me with- fuck, with those eyes and I- I couldn’t handle it. You drive me fuckin’ crazy, you know that?”

Teeth bite down on the pulse point below his ear, Eddie lets out a sharp grunt of sheer pleasure.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy…” Each breath is exerted as a pant, his fist clutching at the haphazard bedspread beneath you to ground himself. His forehead dips lower as you continue to suck a dark love bite into his pale neck, feeling the blood pumping within. 

Intoxicated with euphoria, your brain grows hazy as pleasure takes a vice grip on your mind and body. Each desperate rut of Eddie’s hits drives you closer to the inevitable, rendering you unable to do more than dig your fingernails into his broad back and drag them downwards. 

“Eddie, I- I’m so close…” 

Your confession elicits a growl from deep within Eddie’s chest, as he continues pounding into you at a steady pace.

“Jesus, fuck- please. Need it. Need to feel you come all over my cock, sweetheart…” Eddie’s whole body falters momentarily in anticipation, his movements stop as the thought alone causes him to double over in pleasure. A gasping breath leaves his swollen lips as he hungrily kisses you, his tongue dancing with yours in soft pants of need. “Please, god…”

His cock drives impossibly deep as his thrusting grows desperate. No one can hold on much longer. But no one wants to, anyway. Every puff of air leaving his mouth hits your neck and sets your sensitive skin on edge. But what sends you hurtling over the edge is the wanton gasp Eddie lets out as your nails burrow just below his ribs, an alchemy of pain and pleasure that leaves him hanging by a thread. It’s strangled, needy, and it causes the coil to snap deep in your abdomen once again without warning. His ministrations on your clit never falter as your orgasm slams into you, a silent scream arching your back and consuming every inch of you. Muscle tense and contract as you grip onto your friend’s scratched-up back for purchase, unsteady breaths knocked out of you with every furious rut.

“Oh, god- that’s it, baby…” Eddie’s teeth grit as his own release draws impossibly close, your walls clenching around his sensitive length. His lips purse together in concentration as he drinks in every twitch of euphoria on your face until he can’t hold off any longer. “Gonna come, sweetheart.”

Putting every ounce of effort he possessed into helping you ride out your high, his thumb softly caressing your cheekbone, the faintest smile of pride upturning the corners of his lips. Eddie lets out a series of soft ‘ah’s’ with every faltering thrust, his forearms giving out as his lips fall beside your ear, allowing you to fully indulge in his whimpers of pleasure. His hips still as his cock spurts ropes of hot release deep inside your pussy, coating your walls in stickiness. Forehead presses deep into the bedspread as he rides out his high with stuttering movements, working every last drop out of his spent cock. 

“Oh, fuck-” He groans, his sweaty palm pressed to your cheek as if to keep him grounded, his only indication that this was not a mirage, every fantasy prior paling in comparison to this moment. His breathing is erratic, heart rate pounding as his mind begins to catch up to reality. “Oh- sweetheart…”

Pulling your jawline closer to his, his panting lips pepper chaste kisses along the groove of your neck before finding solace at your lips. Pouring every ounce of affection through his tongue, so laced with ecstasy you can taste it. Eyes squeezed shut, as if to heighten the sense of your skin under his thumb, the scent of your shampoo wafting into his nose with every unsteady inhalation. Learning the intimacy of your body against his in ways he never could have fathomed in his wildest fantasies.

Hands tangling in his damp roots, you scratch and caress his scalp as you chase his lips, slowly dropping back into your body. Heavy-lidded eyes gazing up at Eddie after he pulls away, his blown-out pupils meeting yours as your breathing syncs up. A Cheshire-cat grin spreads across his face, and a deep chuckle rumbles within his chest. His laughter is infectious, a similar smile crossing your sore lips as he presses his forehead to yours.

“I- I can’t believe that just happened.” He’s almost sheepish, soft giggles shared between the two of you. “Are- are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod, chest still heaving with exertion, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. 

Gingerly, Eddie pulls out, a mess of seed spilling out of you and likely soiling Steve’s comforter. With his energy all but depleted, he collapses on the pillow beside you, messy bangs clinging to his sweat-damp forehead. His eyes are glazed over and blissful, yet entirely focused on you. Fingertip tracing the perimeter of your face, committing every blemish and freckle to memory, relishing in this closeness. A grin flickers on the corners of your lips as you turn your head to face him, and his smile only grows as he drinks in your expression.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted that.” Eddie mumbles, absent-mindedly brushing his thumb over your lips. 

“Me too.” Your confession elicits a chuckle from your friend.

“Oh, no. Don’t say that, gonna make me regret not making a move on you sooner, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, thinking about lost time. “Guess we’re gonna have some catching up to do, huh?”

The tip of your nose nudges his as your smile grows, the warmth of his body against yours a feeling you’d be happy to get used to. His smile doesn’t falter as he presses your lips to his, stealing another kiss from you.

“How are you feeling?” Eddie’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You think for a moment, a cheeky grin crossing your lips.

“Hungry.”

Eddie laughs at your honesty. Outside Steve’s bedroom window, you hear a loud whooping from the birthday boy bookmarked by the splash of a cannonball into the pool. Eddie props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you with a knowing smirk.

“Reckon there’s any of that cake left?”

[passivenovember]

thinking about the first time Billy has cherry pie and the lengths he'll travel to have it again.

--

Fresh Cherries (part one)

--

Because it's December, Neil makes concessions.

Billy isn't allowed to do whatever he wants, never that, but his leash isn't vice-like. There's some give as he tests his boundaries when there's snow on the ground. Billy isn't sure why, but he isn't about to ruin a good thing.

But. Steve calls on a Wednesday night and says, "Come over."

Billy has to chew and swallow the automated response he's used to giving. It's a school night, Neil'd kill me, and feels like he just got dusted with sugar and put in the oven. Says, "Sure. Let me ask my dad."

"Just sneak out," Steve tells him.

Billy checks the alarm clock on his bedside table. "It's seven thirty."

"So?"

"So, it's not sneaking out hours."

"You're such a stick in the mud," Steve says.

"I'm not, I just--" don't feel like getting my teeth knocked in. Billy picks at the threads in his duvet cover. Counts to three. "I want to be a good influence on you, Harrington."

Steve squaks. Some bright, quaffed bird. "I'm a year older than you!"

"Only 'cause you got held back in the third grade," Billy says. He flops over onto his belly, bringing the phone with him as he tries not to get wrapped up in the chord when Steve laughs.

"This is what I get for telling you all my deepest darkest shit," Steve rustles on the other end of the line and Billy imagines him in bed, or laying on the couch. Maybe flat on the carpet, near the fireplace, shirtless and eating chocolate covered strawberries--

"C'mon," Steve says gently, "Be a bad influence, come hang out with me."

"My dad--"

"Just sneak out, Malibu."

Billy grunts, not wanting to tell the truth, kind of into how Steve's growing more and more whiny as the scene presses on. "I dunno."

"C'mon, it's not hard. I sneak out all the time. Out of my house and into my car and in through your window--"

"--That's different. Your parents don't give a shit where you are."

"You're right. Who cares, though? I'd still sneak out to see you even if they had a bell permanently installed around my neck."

Billy's heart feels like raw cookie dough, sticking to the ribs around him as he bakes and proves under some bright, shining, plastic feeling. "Are they home this week?"

"Nope," Steve says, and the P explodes over the phone line. Wipes out half the city in his excitement. "Mom bought a ton of shit to get me through 'till the twenty-eighth, so we can--"

"You're spending Christmas alone?"

"I always spend Christmas alone," Steve says. Quiet sits heavy, like a filed of snow, between them. Stretching out in every direction. "It's not a big deal. We celebrate Christmas in November."

"With Thanksgiving?"

"Nah, right at the start of November."

"Alongside Halloween?" Billy spats, sitting upright on the mattress. It jostles underneath him. He feels like a raft lost in some huge, freezing, disorienting sea.

He tries to get his barring's, tries to sink his heel into Steve's answering laugh but its hollow like a dead tree, "One year Santa was my dad, dressed as the Cowardly Lion." Steve says.

Billy tries to imagine it. He puts the hard, chilled seed of Steve's childhood near his molars and chews on it for a while, trying to envision the light refracted from all the ways childhood has to bend and contort to suit a kid's parents.

"I never believed in Santa," He says. An offering. Sadness for sadness, or something, like I see you.

Steve hums, and that horrible field of ice and snow between them melts, just like it always does. "Come over," He says, not as hollow as before. Blooming.

Billy puts his shoes on.

--

The Harringtons live in some demented alternate reality where Christmas in December is all for show. Their house has been decorated since the last time Billy was here in Saturday.

He knocks and stares down at Santa, the looming silver-screen image from his childhood, dressed in a floral button down, board shorts and flip flops. Somehow feels colder. When Steve opens the door, he points at it.

"My mom's theme this year is Blue Hawaii." Steve says.

Billy stumbles over the threshold, teeth chattering to shards in his skull. "That's not a Christmas Movie."

"Yeah, but it turns out, Santa can be anything. He's kinda like a chameleon."

"Santa isn't Elvis."

"He could be," Steve says.

Billy shrugs out of his jacket, handing it off, like always. Steve holds it close to his chest, watching with amusement as Billy takes in the foyer. Toes out of his snow-covered boots. "It's like a tiki bar made of pine trees instead of sweet grass."

Steve nods, still clutching the jacket.

His eyes are red.

Billy squints at him, padding closer. "Are you high?"

Steve giggles, bright like a fresh log in the fire.

Billy scrubs a hand across his face, trying to hide the way it makes him go up in Steve's flame. "You're such a dork."

"What? I thought we could--"

"I only have a few hours," Billy tells him gently, trying not to get lost in the sleepy, apple-red flush across Steve's perfect nose. "My dad'll--"

"Just tell him I'm left on my own for Christmas. Maybe he'll feel sorry for me and let you stay the night."

"How do you think I got him to agree to an 11:30 curfew?"

Steve blinks at him and then explodes into glowing, glaring joy. "Are you shitting me?"

"Nope, I'm all yours 'till 11:30."

Steve flushes again, clutching Billy's jacket closer to his chest. "But it's a school night--"

"Guess my old man took pitty on you. Such a lonely boy in his Elvis-themed mansion on the hill, it's kinda pathetic," Billy says, "In a cute way."

"It's not Elvis," Steve says, still grinning, "It's Blue Hawaii."

"Still cute," Billy shrugs, feeling hot all over. Feeling proud of himself. He nearly combusts when Steve moves into his space, eyes nearly going cross to focus on the bridge of Steve's nose.

Billy holds his breath.

He waits for Steve to say something, feeling that huge filed stretch out between them, but it's not snow-covered now.

It's thawing. It's burning up.

Steve wets his lips.

"Uh," Billy says intelligently, looking down when the sleeve of his jacket tugs at him, still viced in Steve's hold. "You can put that in the closet," Billy tells him, caught on the strech of skin over Steve's knuckles. "If you want."

"I don't," Steve tells him.

Billy looks up, eyes crossing again.

Steve winks. "You're warm," He says but Billy feels it, more than anything else.

--

The smell of marijuana and pine is overwhelming, searing through the air after the first shared joint.

Billy rolls his neck and asks if they can crack a window. Steve blinks at him, sealing the second joint with spit. "You trying to get caught, or something?"

"Caught?" Billy asks, trying to force his shoulders to relax. "But. I thought--"

"--The neighbors are nosy 'round these parts." Steve says. He tucks his rolling tray under the coffee table, and Billy watches with droopy red eyes the way his lips close around the butt of the thing.

Steve's lips are perfect.

If Billy was an artist he'd fill sketchbooks with watercolor renditions of that cupid's bow. His fingers would permanently stain with lapping waves of purple-pink, etching the warmth of breath into his nail beds so that the faucet would never run clear of this boy.

He could get lost in those lips. That hair--

Steve hands him the joint and Billy takes it, focusing on the cherry so he won't get lost in Steve's eyes, too, because he's looking. Always.

Billy tries not to drown in it and fails when Steve says, "Y'know. Your eyes are kinda like Blue Hawaii."

"Again with Elvis?" Billy rolls them, handing the joint back. "You're the one who stole his wig."

"My hair is not a wig, fuck you."

"Coulda fooled me."

Steve holds smoke in his lungs, exhaling it toward the popcorn ceiling as he says, "Your eyes are blue."

Billy snorts, laying with his back on the carpet.

"They're the bluest things I've ever seen," Steve says, ashing the joint. "And I've tried to find something bluer. Around town. I even went to the library to look for something in an atlas when Indiana disappointed me, like maybe the ocean is bluer and clearer in the Caribbean, or something, but no."

Billy's heart thumps, nailing his ribs to the floor underneath.

He counts the joints in the popcorn overhead. He feels Steve looking at him, feels himself burning from the inside.

"You're just the most detailed asshole who's ever lived," Steve says, softly.

Billy could sink into it. "Thanks."

Silence falls, again. It's comfortable. Billy stretches, a little bit, twisting until his spine cracks, until he feels like he could pass out from how relaxed he is.

Steve hands him the joint.

Billy shakes his head.

"Why not?" Steve asks.

"I'm laying down," Billy tells the ceiling, "I feel like if I smoke anymore my lungs will give out, or maybe I'll float through the ceiling and disappear."

Steve exhales more smoke. "And right before Christmas, too."

Billy sits crisscross on the carpet, watching Steve puff, inhale, puff, inhale. "You're really not stressed about being home by yourself for six days?"

Steve shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I like having the house to myself," Steve tells him, "Besides, I feel like if I have to spend any more time with my parents this year I'm going to sink right through the floor." Teasing. An echo of Billy's childhood fear of ascending into the ozone.

Billy pokes him with his foot, flushed.

Steve finishes the joint and slides closer. Their knees touch. "What kind of Christmases did you have when you were growing up?"

Billy shrugs. "I'm sill growing up."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, just. I dunno," Billy gets lost in Steve's eyes, a little. Classic beauty. "It was the Coca-Cola Santa kind?"

Steve laughs at him, and then his palms are warm on Billy's knee caps. "The kind with Bing Crosby and miniature towns on the dining room table?"

Billy's mom loved to collect those goddamn things. Neil smashed them all when she ran away and killed herself.

He nods, relishing the weight of Steve's fingertips.

Steve fiddles with the hole in Billy's jeans. "What kind of food did you have?"

"Pizza," Billy says.

Steve blinks at him, lost. "That's not very Coca-Cola of the Hargrove's."

"My mom didn't like to cook."

"Funny," Steve says, combing through the tussle of hair on Billy's kneecap, "Mine doesn't either."

Billy aches to knit their fingers together until they meld, forming the kind of sweater you dig out from the back of your closet year after year, echoing on the stiff frigid breeze until it's tattered and falling apart.

Steve looks at him, smiling. "Do you want some pie?"

--

Steve guts and skins the freezer until it's empty. A carcass picked clean.

Mrs. Harrington must have spent her entire bonus at Melvalds on Christmas dinner, enough to feed four Steve Harrington's and all the people who are desperately in love with him.

Billy tries not to think about them and watches from the counter face, his sock feet thumping gently against the cabinet as Steve pulls dish after dish from a cloud of white exhaust, plopping containers onto the island. "Green bean casserole," Steve says, "Pumpkin pie, pecan, apple, blueberry--"

"--You're supposed to eat all of this?"

"You're gonna help me."

"I don't like green bean casserole," Billy says, yelping when Steve feigns death and collapses into the counter. "Jesus Christ--"

"I'm midwestern, that's a cardinal sin to me."

"Dope makes you dramatic, pretty boy."

"You hate midwestern people."

"Yeah," Billy says, giggling.

"You hate me."

"Shut up," Billy slips off the counter and onto his feet, examining every frozen item while Steve repacks.

"Which pie sounds good?"

"I dunno," Billy says, eyeing the blueberry with suspicion, "Don't we have to wait for them to thaw before we throw them in the oven?"

"I don't think so," Steve says, "I've already tried the cherry and that baked fine."

"I've never had it before."

Steve blinks at him, shocked. "How have you never had cherry pie?"

"My dad doesn't like cherries," Billy admits.

"Just because your dad doesn't like cherries--"

"--Look, my mom wasn't on great terms with the oven, and nobody else is going to waste time cooking shit my dad won't eat," Billy snaps. Feeling red-hot all of a sudden. Angry in a way he hasn't been in a long time for being reminded that other people's dads are shitty in the normal way.

Not like Neil.

Steve either doesn't notice or chooses not to take it personally.

He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a half-eaten cherry pie, picking at its cling-wrap until Billy can see the cherries where the glitter between layers of perfectly brown crust. Bloody little eyes staring up at him like dead fish.

"You can have the rest."

"The rest?" Billy demands, "But what if I don't like it?"

"Not possible," Steve tells him. He opens the microwave and attempts to shove the pie tray in, yelping when Billy snatches it out of thin air. "What--"

"--Aluminum will catch fire in the microwave." Billy snaps. He tries to find it annoying, but Steve just blinks those big, soft eyes at him and the anger washes away. "Get me a plate, bambi boy," He says.

Steve watches Billy plate the pie, giggling as his nose wrinkles in disgust over its dripping red innards. "This is so gross," Billy says.

"You won't think so, once you try it."

Billy walks it to the microwave, carefully pinching the edges of the plate between his palms. "I can't think of a single other instance where that has been true."

He turns the dial. Forty seconds.

Steve's watching him, face illuminated in the golden hum of the microwave.

"What?" Billy demands.

"Nothing," Steve says, leaning against the counter top, "I just can't believe I'm gonna be here when your life is changed forever."

Billy snorts, stalking to the drawer where the Harringtons keep their silver. "Still dramatic, pretty boy."

"Why do you always say that?" Steve wonders.

Billy freezes in place. Two forks in hand. He peers across the island at Steve, heart thrumming loudly. "Why do I always say what?"

"Pretty boy," Steve clarifies.

It hangs between them. The microwave hums, the longest forty seconds of Billy's life. "I," He says intelligently, "It's just. True."

"What is?"

"You're. Pretty," Billy says. And it's like having teeth pulled.

The microwave beeps.

Steve turns away, yanking the pie from its incubation, "Shit," He says, wiggling his fingers. "Plate's hot as hell."

Billy stands there watching him. Breathing. Dying.

Steve looks at him. "Well, do you wanna try it?" Billy nods. Doesn't move. Steve laughs at him. "Come here."

Billy goes easily, like a lap dog being called to perch. He and his forks stare down at the pie with caution, stomach churning at the congealed mess before him.

Steve grabs one of the forks from Billy and cuts the point off, blowing on it until its warm enough to eat. Steve pops it into his mouth, brown eyes falling closed. "Mmmm," He says, like someone would with a spooked and disgusted baby, "It's good."

Billy shakes his head.

"You're so dramatic," Steve says, cutting another huge chunk for Billy. He holds it in the air between them, eyebrows raised. "Trust me."

Billy stares at it. "Why's mine so big?"

"I want you to get the full range of flavor."

"But--"

Steve shoves the fork into Billy's mouth, swiftly depositing the little cherry eyeballs onto Billy's tongue. He coughs and sputters, lips curling around the fork as Steve yanks it away. "Chew," Steve says.

Billy does.

Like it's the first time he's ever done it, clumsy and a little rushed and very, very distracted by the way Steve's watching him.

"Swallow," Steve says softly, barely there.

Billy does. There's something on his face. On his lips.

"What do you think?" Steve asks, staring at them.

Billy resists the urge to lick it away, "Sucked," He says, expecting Steve to laugh, but.

Something rests between them, not growing or stretching or changing shape, but it's there. It suffocates.

Steve looks at him, somehow closer than he was before. "Sorry, pretty boy," He says.

Billy's heart stops. "Why would you say that?"

"It's true. You're pretty," Steve says, watching the red on Billy's lips burn brighter. "You've got a little something on your face." Billy lifts a hand, mouth falling open when Steve grabs his wrist. "Can I," Steve says, soft as summer rain, "Can I kiss you, Billy?"

Billy doesn't move as Steve licks into his mouth, Cherry washing away under the rough, sweet drag of intention.

--

THIS IS PART ONE!!!! OF A TWO-PARTER!

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I get around to part two <3

[gallusrostromegalus]

So I have noticed something very interesting. Gin is buttering up aizen to feed him to the god machine as some premuim petrol. BUT ALSO many powerful souls that die DON't get fed to the god machine. They go to hell because they are powerfull enough that their removal from the world harms the god machine more than feeding them helps it. So my question is, whats up with that?

there's a couple parts to this:

Powerful souls that go to hell because they're powerful ARE STILL feeding The Life Machine- All that power they're off-gassing in Hell is still going into The Life machine- Hell exists more or less as a ringer to squeeze spiritual energy out of souls before sending them back into the cycle to grow again.

It harms The Life machine more to consume a powerful soul in totality because then The Life Machine doesn't get to use that *particualrly good* soul to generate energy it needs again, and again, and again- So someone like Yamamoto is going to go around about a zillion more times, if things go well.

Problem is, things are NOT going well right now- the wheel is jammed and not giving the Life Machine nearly the energy it needs, so it needs an emergency calorie dump while Tech Support works out how to unjam the wheel, which may, technically, involve stopping and starting it again.

The final thing is a matter of scale. if we think of souls in terms of calories: >Regular animal/plant soul: One Cheez-it. Not a lot individually, but they add up. >Regular Human Soul: One Chicken Nugget/celery and peanut butter. it's technically a snack, but it's not satisfying on it's own. >Average Shingami, Quincy footsoldier or lesser hollow Soul: Fast-food meal. About as much food at most people really need in a day. >Captain-class Shinigami or Espada-class Hollows or Sternritter: Giant Meal At Grandma's House that leaves you passed out on the couch and the leftovers she sends you home with that feed you for a week. >Aizen, once he fuses with the hollow inside the Hogyoku and achieves his Final Form: Actually eating every last crumb of every last dish at the Family Reunion thanksgiving with four grandmas cooking: Two turkeys, A Standing Rib Roast, A Ham, six kinds of soup, two salads, four types of baked vegetables, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, baked potatoes, potatoes au gratin, popovers, busicuits, rolls and bread, an actual ocean of gravy- and then there's dessert: Apple pie, pumkin pie, pecan pie, cherry pie, chocolate cake, cookies, early christmas cookies, avalanches of whipped cream. And ofc- cider and beer and hot chocolate and coffee and soda and fuck it just drink a whole gallon of milk while you're at it. More food than any human should consume in a whole year, let alone one sitting.

So you can see why Aizen is getting pulled out of the cycle for special treatment. He's gonna be there for The Life Machine to gnaw on for most of the series. And even then, after suffering the most direct and intimate contact anyone can get with what passes for god, The Life Machine may yet choose to send his empty, heavily chewed husk back for another turn because that why waste the seed of a good crop like?