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#yearns to write
wtfcl0ud · 2 months
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one day i will commit myself to doing the not so automatic writing exercise by thomas lux
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ivynightshade · 5 months
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fatima aamer bilal, from i mother it the absence of her, iii. i am not a person that can be loved for a very long time excerpt from moony moonless sky.
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feral-ballad · 3 months
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Sonia Sanchez, from Like the singing coming off the drums: Love Poems; “Remembering and Honoring Toni Cade Bambara”
[Text ID: “i have stored in my / blood the / memory of your voice”]
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elainiisms · 1 year
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going insane over the prospect of casual intimacy. like taking a bath together and sitting in between their legs while they wash your hair, press soft kisses to your cheek, neck and shoulders. just leaning your head back into the crook of their neck and relaxing as they hold you and trace lines across your skin.
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dollkisses05 · 29 days
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In my dreams there is a man who loves me the way I love
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stevebabey · 1 year
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Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.
Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.
But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.
Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.
It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.
It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.
She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.
Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.
It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.
He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.
Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.
So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.
He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.
Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.
Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—
“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.
“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.
Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”
Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.
“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”
“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”
God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.
“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”
There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.
“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.
“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.
“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”
He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.
“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.
Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.
“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.
“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.
“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.
That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.
“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.
“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”
He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.
“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.
“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”
In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.
Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”
For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”
Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.
“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”
“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.
If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.
“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”
Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.
“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.
Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.
“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.
“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.
So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.
It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.
now with a part two!
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haleyincarnate · 3 months
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You are worthy of that devotion.
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effervescentcvnt · 1 month
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imagine teasing your tentacled spellcaster monster partner all the time when you go on a date: you’re wearing skimpy clothes that show more skin than they cover, not to mention that you aren’t wearing any underwear. you’re constantly touching them just a little bit too close to their sensitive spots “on accident” and whispering naughty things in their ear in public. you want to make them go wild with lust until they snap and have their way with you.
“keep this up and you’ll be in a world of trouble when we get home,” they warn you, their voice low and raspy. 
you look into their eyes, feigning innocence. “what’s ‘this’? i’m not doing anything,” you reply, grinning inwardly because you know that they’re already getting riled up because of you. 
as the two of you are sitting at the restaurant, you let your foot brush up against theirs under the table and then drag it upwards towards their crotch. that almost makes them drop the glass of wine that they were holding and they shoot a heated glare at you as you smile back softly. because of their keen senses, they can smell your arousal as your slick drips onto your clothes. you continue tormenting them all throughout the night, pressing the sole of your shoe against their crotch and rubbing slowly, licking the dessert off of your spoon in a way that is certainly too lewd for a public setting and bending forward in your seat so that they can catch a glimpse of your chest as you’re talking.
when you finally go back home, your beloved monster is fuming, sexually frustrated and ready to ravish you. they’re so much bigger and stronger than you so it’s easy for them to pick you up and throw you on the bed. they’re on you in an instant, their tentacles firmly pinning you down against the mattress. 
“is this what you wanted? to tease me until i have to punish you?” they growl.
you shake your head in disagreement, all while knowing that both of you have agreed on a certain word that’ll stop everything if you truly don’t wish to continue. “it was just supposed to be a bit of fun! don’t punish me, i’m sorry!” you yelp.
“oh, you will be,” they snarl.
before you even know what’s happening, they cast a spell on you, a glowing brand in the shape of a heart appearing just above your pubic hair. the symbol warms your skin, the familiar heat of arousal settling between your legs.
“what the fuck did you do to me?!” you shriek.
“you’ll see,” they simply say, malice apparent in their voice. they bend down, smiling at you with their sharp teeth flashing in the dim light of your bedroom. they lick at your lips with their long, forked tongue, urging you to part them. the moment that you do, they plunge their tongue in, giving you a sloppy, wet kiss that makes you moan into their mouth.
your partner is blessed with both a pussy and a cock, and they intend to use you thoroughly to sate their every need. they press your head against the pillows and mount your face, and immediately you begin working them over, kissing and sucking their clit and occasionally teasing the opening of their pussy with your tongue as their heavy cock rests on your forehead, already leaking precum. their tentacles hold you down, immobilising you, rubbing every sensitive part of your body at once. they grind their hips and let out breathy, appreciative moans when you pleasure them with your mouth and soon enough, they whine in ecstasy and they squirt all over your face, drenching you in their juices.
they manhandle you into a mating press, first slipping their lubed fingers inside you, stretching your hole and preparing you for their cock. you’re already hoping for an orgasm as they split you open on their cock. after they’ve worked their cock into you fully, they ravage you fast and hard, panting in pleasure. all you can do is lay there wrapped up in tentacles, eagerly sucking on your  fingers when they explore your mouth. you can feel your orgasm approaching fast, and just when you are about to fall over the edge, you… can’t. the pleasure keeps cresting, yes, but you cannot finish. you whimper in confusion and wiggle your hips although you cannot move much. your partner notices your distress and chuckles at your predicament.
“the spell i have cast makes it impossible for you to cum,” they explain. “you’ll only be allowed release if or when i decide that you’ve been punished enough.”
you howl when you slowly comprehend their words. “please no, please let me cum! agh- i’m sorry for teasing you! i’m sorry, fuck, please stop, release me!!” you beg but your pleas fall on deaf ears.
your monster’s cock still pounding at the sweetest of your spots and you’re sure that if they were to pull out, your hole would gape. their tentacles stroke you in a loving way that creates a sharp contrast to the rough fucking yet the pleasure they bring is unbearable.
it’s absolute hell, to be kept there with no release in sight while your darling beast uses you for all you’re worth. you can feel your hole throbbing, and you’re leaking everywhere, making such a mess of yourself. the torture is seemingly endless, and your partner ends up pumping load after load into your fluttering, denied hole. they kiss you again, all tongue and teeth, their unnaturally long tongue thrusting in and out of your mouth. it feels as if your lower body is on fire, and the unending stimulation has you constantly feeling like you’re ready to explode yet you can’t. your tummy bulges with both their thick cock and the amount of cum that your beast has spilled inside.
they’re not completely heartless, though, and eventually they release you from their spell. 
they spoil you with countless orgasms until you’re drooling and your eyes lose focus, mercilessly ripping your pleasure from you.
when you’re done, they clean you up gently and offer you a snack and water, making sure you're okay. they wrap their arms and tentacles around you, holding you close to them as the both of you drift off to peaceful sleep.
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fromdarzaitoleeza · 1 year
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I promise you, i was here , i felt things that made death so large it was indistinguishable from air - and i went on destroying inside it like wind in the strom.
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master-xochimilli · 27 days
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Date idea: I spin and roll around your bed going fucking insane over you for hours, giggling, making out, nuzzling, and cuddling you, rambling about worms and cooking and stickers and everything and anything in between, running around your room stimming while smiling and letting out little I love yous before crashing down and napping in each others arms
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ivynightshade · 4 months
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fatima aamer bilal, from coffin heart? bury me.
[text id: how did you get so close that i have to dissect you out from under my skin? / memory is a deathbed. remembrance is a grave. the memory of you is a scab that i keep picking so that it scars. a burn, a souvenir, something to claw at that claws back at me. / i refuse to be haunted by something less. / there's a sun-sized ache where your hands used to be. / and now that your place is empty, the blood in my heart pumps around nothing. / nothing. / nothing at all. / senseless circulation. / what am i to live for when i have made my body my casket? / where am i to go from here? / and i always knew longing had another name she wouldn't let me call her by — it's hunger. / my heart grew up to be far more starved than my stomach. / it's the things you learn in your childhood, from the words of your mother, from the hands of your father. / if your teeth do not graze my bones, i do not wish for you to kiss me. / how have i turned gentle love into such devastation? / such greediness? / i carry a coffin for a heart; everything i love must be buried. / plant your garden in the cracks of my skin—mud, gravel, everything. let my blood be water to cater to your needs. / terrible, terrible human, thinks barbarity and love are words of the same meaning. / a mad dog would be a far more gentle lover to the rocks being thrown at him. / and, my dear, i wouldn't ask you to fold me in the pages of your favorite book, just the embedment of fingers between my ribs. / how did you get so close that i have to dissect you out from under my skin? / GET CLOSER.]
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feral-ballad · 7 days
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from Anthology of Armenian Poetry, ed. & tr. by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian; "Your bosom"
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trannypresident · 4 months
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yeah crazy rough sex is awesome and all but i would do anything for a guy who's inexperienced and needs my help. who i could sit on my lap and touch so we could both explore his body together. a boy who's breath hitches with every new unfamiliar feeling, i'd put my other hand on his cheek and whisper to him about how good he's being for me. once he eased, i'd lay him on his back and give him head, pausing every so often to tell him how much i love his body and to make sure he still felt good. while we'd fuck i'd go so, so slow, savoring it like a meal, keeping my lips as close to his as possible and kissing him over every gasp and moan. "making love" in the purest sense i could. what was i talking about
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rinneverse · 1 month
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cw. gn!reader x wriothesley drabble, just a wee bit of being comforted by him, suggestive towards the end, minors dni please and ty :)
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“baby, what’s wrong?” wriothesley asks, pulling the covers of your bed away from your face.
“nothin’, honey.” you frown as you're pulled from your cocoon and attempt to tug the covers back over yourself. he's stubborn though, only pulling them back when you try to cover yourself up again.
“nothin’ my ass,” he gently counters. the bed dips under his weight as he takes a seat on the edge, gently brushing his hand along your shoulder when you burrow into your pillows instead.
“seriously. just feeling a bit down, that’s all.” you sigh in defeat, voice muffled by the pillow you clutch tightly to yourself.
wriothesley gently coaxes you into his hold, settling against the headboard as his strong arms wrap around you. despite your grumbling, you nestle further into him.
“it’s okay if you don’t want to talk,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. his usually gruff voice is soft, a tone reserved for you and you only. “but i’m here for you regardless. i want you to tell me if there’s anything i can do for you, alright?”
“okay. i will.” you mumble. your ear presses against the warmth of his chest, his steady heartbeat lulling you into a relaxed state as broad hands stroke your back.
“that's my baby.” you can hear the smile in wriothesley's voice, a soft murmur against your temple. he tilts your chin up with a calloused finger, trailing kisses along your cheek, the slope of your jaw, ending with a slow kiss against your lips that has you forgetting what was making you upset in the first place.
when you pull away, you catch his gaze, icy blue depths filled with such love and adoration for you that it makes you feel love-drunk. you pull him in for another kiss, soft and sweet, curling yourself into the warmth of him as he holds you close.
“i can fuck the sad out of ya, if you need,” he murmurs against your lips, chest rumbling with a chuckle under your palms as you rest them there.
you press your lips together to suppress a giggle as you look up at him. “you're a horndog, you know that?”
“only when it comes to you, dear. now, does that sound good? need me to fuck you better?” there's a glimmer of hunger in his eyes as he watches you, cool hands dipping under your shirt that make you shiver.
you press another chaste kiss to his lips before you reply. “okay. but i'll be real upset if this doesn't make me feel better.”
“oh, i promise you'll be satisfied—” wriothesley grins wolfishly, the glint in his eyes your only warning before you're being flipped, pressed into the bed by the delicious weight of wriothesley settling on top of you.
he kisses down the slope of your throat, gently nipping at your pulse point before he continues: “—you know i don't disappoint.”
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please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl · 29 days
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my hand wrapped around hers
her hoodie clinging to my body
watching silly videos
hands around my hips
pulling me in
sitting nervously in her lap
my arms hanging off her shoulders
her hands fidgeting at the hem of my hoodie
gently asking for permission
a shy nod
her hands wander
exploring my skin like lightning
settling on my hips
cant tear my eyes away
her eyes keeping me locked in place
"can i kiss you"
we both ask at once
giggles erupt
her smile is all i see
our lips finally touch
i cant help but smile into her
...
i want to do this again
and again
and again
and again
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femphrodisiac · 3 months
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i should literally be in the arms of a handsome butch right now and feeling their strong hands groping and exploring every single fold on my soft body while i kiss them sweetly and giggle every time they pinch me but instead i am forced to brave through The Horrors
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