Tales of Honey & Pink Salt

ᴀ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴅᴇᴅɪᴄᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴜʙʙʏ!ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ .*ೃ✧₊˚.↷ I'm Lu | F | 27 | Bi | 𝖘𝖍𝖊/𝖍𝖊𝖗 | I reblog/write smut | 18+ ᴍᴅnɪ ↷*ೃ✧₊˚. ───── I need my fictional men in ways that would've gotten me lobotomized in the 50's… ───── #corpsiewrittes LadyAtreides on Ao3 sideblog @baelorswidow

[corpsypher]

i'm Lu ✧ She/Her ✧ 26 ✧ queer

this post is a work in progress

✧ i reblog and write smut with Fat Reader as the main theme ✧ i currently write for cod, my fics are mostly nsfw and some are dark. ✧ please read and mind the tags, i ain't a babysitter so mdni. ✧ fuck ai, don't feed my shit to a machine.

Ao3 | Writing tag | Masterlist | Recs | moodboards | Pinterest

✧ on going

none

✧ recent

Devil's Dance (Kyle x fat!reader - strip club au) nsfw Pierced through the heart, but never killed (Ghost x fat!reader - patient/physiotherapist) nsfw

✧ wip

Pound (ghoap x fat!reader) *Daffodil (soap x fat!reader) - moodboard if you want it (stalker!ghost x fat!witch!reader)

also;

No fatphobia, no scat, no requests (we can chat and have fun but don't be obnoxious)

[annablanchard]

[ravenfleesfire]

Couples shirts that say "I'm misery" and "I'm company"

[kosmogrl]

[speedlimit15]

Letting the days go by

[fairycosmos]

a small thing i learned from my sister dying is that i really would rather the people i love be a burden than be whatever the hell else they'd be if they weren't. yes even if it's messy and not always fair and hard completely inconvenient for everyone involved. even if it's weird. even if i'm rolling my eyes a bit inside sometimes. i just want you to bother me. please always bother me

[fairycosmos]

like "it's rotten work" "not to me not if it's you" actually sometimes it's still rotten work. even if it's you. and i'd still do it a million times over

[fawnduu]

Prints for Venezuela

I'm working with @renstrapp and @aphyray to raise funds and encourage donations to aid the people of Venezuela in the aftermath of devastating earthquakes, which were followed by flash floods. Here's how you can join:

You can send proof of donation of at least $20 to printsforvenezuela at gmail, which is being managed by our friend and colleague @aphyray who will also be matching donations. The first $1000 will be matched dollar-for-dollar.

Find an organization here: donarseguro.com/en

We'll be accepting donation receipts throughout July, and we'll send out the prints and stickers at the end of the month in a plain ol envelope with a stamp. Dios bendiga a Venezuela ❤️

[moldavite]

hopefully i'll get to do something other than endure soon. that would be really nice

[pup-purgatory]

[segamascott]

[simonriley09]

Divorced dad!Ghost noticing his new younger neighbor talking to his 4 year old daughter Emily, cooing over a frog she found while you tell her not to kiss it because it wont turn into a frog prince (duh), cigarette in hand as he silently watches.

That sundress does nothing to hide your frame, the swell of your breasts peeking out the top of the dress, a pretty necklace hanging in your cleavage, his cock chubs up nicely in his work pants, wishing he could just bend you over and take you in the middle of the street. He'll settle for just this for now.

30 minutes later Emily drags you to Simon to introduce you as "the pretty lady from next door" and you awe at her before sticking your hand out for a handshake towards the big brute.

He extends his thick calloused hand and shakes it firmly, feeling how soft your hand is, he feels no ring... good. He'll change that soon.

You end up talking for a while exchanging numbers before heading off to wherever you were going before.

Ghost stares at the phone number you gave him before quickly shutting his phone off, already anticipating the next time he sees you.

[tenephre]

[succubusvalentine]

Just disgusting Simon Riley.

No, as in he is way too obsessed with your cunt.

He'll have you sit on his lap naked, just so you'll get his jeans dirty. Something about it really makes his cock throb.

Or, he'll fuck you on his fingers while wearing his favourite pair of gloves before a mission, just so he has something to lick and smell when he gets lonely—and you do get a helluva fucking when your scent wears off his gloves sooner than usual. As if you can control that.

After one too many punishments for that though, you pushed him down and sat on his face while he wore his balaclava. Practically waterboarding the bloke with your arousal. Simon always loved when you were just as perverted as he was.

The thing that turns you on disgusts you the most? You'll be bent over in your kitchen, garden, laundry; and Simon'll come up behind you, shove his fingers in you before pulling them out before you can properly register what he's doing, walking off and sucking his fingers with a pleased hum.

You've scolded him for it countless times, yet the pervert doesn't care. Smiling at you in a way that from any other man? It would make your stomach twist in disgust. But from Simon? You can't get enough.

And yes, he is in fact the type of guy to pull your asscheeks apart so he can lick his thumb and press it against the spasming ring of muscle,

"If she keeps winking at me like this, I'll have to fuck her too." Growled in your ear while you whine in disgust, as if you don't have a pretty little collection of plugs in the back of your dresser already.

You and Simon just loved pretending like you were being corrupted by him.

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

Buy my cat a treat? (•˕ •マ.ᐟ

Might change my divider, and way of colouring text. I dunno guys. Anyway hiiiii lol please don't sound me for not posting until now. Can women be sounded? God I hope not.

[chortlebot]

before someone screenshots this and posts it elsewhere this is me

[clawcakes]

PREV TRUTH NUKE

[crowttore]

Getting your face cradled by hands that kill>>>>>

[yeyinde]

surreal/psychological horror + Soap where you agree to house sit for a coworker when they take off for a vacation. but a man shows up and tells you he's supposed to be staying there too.

their son, he shrugs. came home on leave from the military. crashin' here. thought mam might'a said somethin'.

she didn't, but it's fine. and he's harmless. sort of. maybe. you're not sure, really. because he's a little pushy. has a wild temper that ebbs and flows at intervals you can't really keep up with. tempestuous. mercurial. but he makes dinner. he tells you about what he did—not all of it, but some. like why he was sent home as he gestures to the raw scar on his temple.

need some tlc, he quips with a sharp grin. and lucky him because he found the prettiest little doe waitin' fer him.

harmless. a soldier. you can trust that, right?

but he stares at you with a naked hunger, like he wants to eat you alive. but it's gone when you really look. and sometimes, things go missing. your clothes. panties. odd stuff around the house. he hides the newspaper in the trash before you can see it. says the cable is out on the television—Netflix only. no news. he can't—he can't bare to see it. trauma. you wouldn't put him through that, would you, doe? no. you're a good girl. the best.

(at night, asleep. a nightmare; his rough voice in your ear: his good girl. so good for him. so wet—)

and it's just three weeks.

you'll be fine.

(—even though you taste him in the morning. on your lips. your tongue. the back of your throat. salty, bitter. but—there's a pack of salted licorice on the table. fifteen pieces, it reads. maybe you ate them. fuck, got such a pretty mouth, doe. you count each piece. gonna make me cum. fifteen. it's fine. it's fine. there's an ache between your thighs. a tenderness you lie to yourself about as you ignore the stickiness pooling in the gusset of your panties. fuck, doe, ahm gonna—)

absolutely fine.

until your coworker calls after finally getting cell reception. chatting in your ear about her vacation. normal. totally normal. and her son? you tell her. he's been a real help around the house, too (but she should maybe talk to him about sneaking into your bedroom at night because that's so weird, it's so strange; you don't want to wake up to a man staring at you in the dark, or catch the scent of sage on your pillow anymore, the lingering heat—please tell him to stop doing that because when you do, he just gets a weird look on his face like you're the problem, and it's just all so—)

"what son? we don't—we don't have a son—"

the phone line cutting out doesn't really surprise you. and neither does the creak of the floorboards. the solid weight of a chest against your back. the press of metal. a warm, firm palm folding over your throat, anchoring you in place.

a soft, mournful coo:

"ah really didnae want ye tae find out like th', doe. ah thought we had time together." his hand tightens. breath heavy, ragged against the shell of your ear. "but we gotta go, doe. it's time for us tae leave—"

(maybe you should have pushed back harder against letting him hide the paper, or barring you from watching the news. you might have seen a familiar face.)

[anneofgreengabagool]

141 as bad first dates | 141 headcanon masterlist

gaz

ghost

price

soap