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bluuf0 · 2 months ago

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charlie. drinking your piss. and then giving you head. pleaseeee 🥺🥺🥺 (afab reader gn terms preferred)

the only difference between me and gatorade is that the vending machine cant get horny

heyyyyyyy gang. whats up. my usual song and dance here. i love piss, u love piss, read at ur own risk. lol. cw: PISS YOU FUCKING IDIOT. wet n messy if u dont fuck with that. coooooool

"Char?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I have to pee,"

"Oh, I bet you do, darling," he held the water cup up to your lips, raising an eyebrow at you.

What the fuck was he up to now?

You snorted, shaking your head slightly. "I'm not thirsty,"

"No, I think you are, darling,"

Ah. So that's what he was up to. A flash of the last week's conversation trailed through your mind.

"I just think it'd be fun to be surprised with a hold, y'know?"

"I can keep that in mind for you, dear," he'd smirked at you, eyes sparkling with already forming plans.

You closed your lips around the rim of the cup. "Good job, baby!" he cooed at you. The words went straight to your stomach, pooling warmly in your gut. You hurriedly gulped down a few further sips, meeting his eyes to be praised when he thought you were done.

It took a while. "That should be enough, I think," Your throat pulsed with a final swig trailing down it, and you let him pull the cup from your mouth. Panting slightly, you let the droplets that had condensated on your lower lip begin to quiver their way down your chin, rivulets gently staining your skin. Charlie's fingers reached up to cast a thumb across your jawline, picking up that little bit of water. The digit continued its trail upward, the liquid finding itself smeared across the lower lip it had only just escaped from. "You lost a little there,"

"Thank you…" was your weakly mumbled response. Charlie smirked at you, before settling back against the couch, wrapping his arm around you and tugging you into his chest. You snuggled into him happily, giggling as you tucked your head into the crook of his neck. "Love you, Char,"

"Love you too, darling," He ruffled your hair before turning back to the TV. Occasionally throughout the show, he would slide the cup of water back over to you, making sure you took some sips of it before you handed it back. Eventually, the cup was empty. "Hun?" He started.

"Yeah?"

"Can you go grab some more water? I'm thirsty,"

You couldn't help but snort at the comment, pushing yourself up off the couch. You noticed a slightly uncomfortable pressure in your bladder, but it wasn't quite a pressing need yet. Reaching out, you grabbed the cup from Charlie's hand, heading into the kitchen to fill it back up. Standing at the sink and flipping it on, you glanced out the window over it, looking out into the backyard. The noise of the sink still worked its way into your thoughts still, and you felt a slight tightening in your gut. You could tell you were getting closer to pissing, but you were definitely able to hold it for the next episode of the show. Cup full, you shut off the sink before snagging it and heading back into the living room. You handed the cup to Charlie, and he took an exaggerated sip from it, not enough to make a dent in the actual water level, but simply sucking down a few drops with a satisfied slurp.

"Come hang out with me," he patted the couch cushion next to him. "The water's fine," You giggled, shaking your head at the ridiculous joke, before rejoining him in your place at his side. Another episode of the show passed the same as the first, water being passed to you to drink at seemingly random intervals. You had no idea how long he was going to make you hold for, and the thought sent little tingles down your spine that piled up in your groin. The arousal obviously wasn't helping the need to piss, and you felt it grow incrementally throughout the show. This, obviously was a vicious cycle, as the need to piss was what was turning you on in the first place. You sighed internally, submitting yourself to the gradual build of neediness in your gut. Eventually, the pressure built to a point you couldn't find relief from it anymore, no matter what position you struck.

Charlie evidently noticed your squirming. He didn't say anything, didn't point it out, but his hand slipped to your neck, scuffing the back of it, holding you still. You whimpered slightly, to no reaction from him. You could barely concentrate on the ending of the episode, and you knew you'd definitely have to try to watch it back when your mind wasn't cloudy and your bladder wasn't full. Eventually, the credits rolled, and Charlie turned to you. "You doing okay, darling?" The fake concern rolled off his tongue, almost convincing you that maybe, just maybe, he really wanted you to be hydrated. A look in his eyes dispelled that entirely too quickly however, as they sparkled with something totally opposite to concern, despite still welling with affection. You sighed at him.

"I have to pee,"

"Well! Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"Char…"

"We should probably take care of that then, huh?" His tone was slowly becoming more and more obviously patronizing rather than falsely kind, and a chill ran down your spine.

So focused on the idea of Charlie talking down to you while your bladder was full, you barely noticed that he had slipped off the couch and settled between your legs. Your reverie was broken when his hands met your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the couch. A little yelp left your lips at the movement. Your bladder rocked in your body, the bumping sending tiny shock waves through you. What was he expecting? Did he want you to- Your thoughts were cut off by Charlie impatiently tapping your thigh with flat fingers. "Come back to me here, baby," When your eyes snapped to him, he grinned. "Good job," His other hand came to rest on your other thigh, spreading them apart. "Lean back for me, hun?" His tone was gentle again, but his face was a mask of barely disguised deviance. You figured you'd better listen to him at this point. Your bladder was full enough that no matter what he did, you'd feel it, and the chances you'd start leaking were definitely way too high to be pushing your luck with. Your back hit the sofa cushion with a gentle thud, and you instantly regretted not lowering yourself slower as you felt liquid slosh inside you. "Thighs open," Charlie chirped up at you. You stared down at him dumbly, not quite processing what his plan was yet.

That had its consequences. Charlie pressed a hand directly onto your swollen bladder, applying a firm pressure. You squealed in response, and felt your muscles jolt. A warm, wet sensation bloomed at the front of your shorts, running its way down the fabric, leeching into crevices you otherwise paid no attention to. The press on your bladder remained firm. "I said, thighs open," You let your legs fall outwards. "Well then, I guess you can listen," Charlie grinned. He leaned forward and pressed an open mouthed kiss to the wetness on your shorts. As you hissed at the feeling, he sucked the fabric into his mouth, suckling on where the liquid had settled. A whimper left your throat. He pulled back after a few seconds, licking his lips. "Gotta get every drop," he murmured. You nearly choked. His fingers slid down one of your thighs, hooking his fingers into the side of your pajama shorts. He pulled them away from your pussy, dripping with need already, and leaned in between your legs. "Alright baby. Give it to me,"

"Char…" you whimpered, your tone hesitant. The hand returned to your bladder.

"I said. Give." The hand pressed down.

A strangled "ah!!!" was all that could leave your mouth as the the piss began to spill from you again. Charlie lapped greedily at your cunt, drops beginning to run down his chin. His hand left your stomach to dig into your thigh with the other one, pulling them open more so he could press his mouth directly to your flesh, gulping mouthfuls as his tongue pulsed around your clit. It wasn't like you could stop at this point despite him easing off the pressure, and you could feel what was now hours of stored urine pouring out of you all at once.

You felt your bladder relax as the piss pooled around you, running in rivulets down the front of the couch, and puddling on the ground in loud, aggressive splashes, whatever Charlie couldn't catch hitting the floor with aggressive thudding sounds. The noises did nothing to quell the arousal you were now basically drowning in, and the pleasure at finally releasing spread through your muscles, and you couldn't help but pitch forward, stomach convulsing, your fingers gripping into Charlie's hair, threading his locks in between them as his tongue scalded against you, tugging at him with each new jolt of pleasure. You shook gently, whimpers and moans leaving your mouth in waves, intermixing with heavy panting. The movement pitched your hips backward slightly, and the change in position gathered the piss into places it hadn't been slipping into before. You ended up sitting in a puddle of your own piss, slowly soaking it's way into the couch, Charlie mouthing at the liquid pouring out of you. It didn't seem, however, that it was in his plans to stop his actions. You whined, pitiful in your overstimulation. He licked and sucked at your folds as if he was trying to drink the final drops of piss he could remove from your body. Charlie always ate pussy like a man starving, but tonight he ate it like a man thirsty.

Much like your piss, you couldn't hold back your moans anymore. "Charlie!" you all but screamed. He hummed against you, his lips never quite leaving their meeting points against you, tongue winding its way out of his mouth to coat the places that your piss somehow hadn't managed to flood. Slick poured from you as well, and you internally, and very briefly, marveled at his ability to keep connection with you at this point, fluid condensating in the lines on his skin and beading around his jawline. Charlie made a valiant effort, however, digging his fingers into your thighs to brace himself, shifting to settle himself further on his knees, where piss was assumedly soaking into his jeans now. You had to commend him. The thought fluttered through your mind briefly, before you lost yourself again, head thunking onto the back of the couch as your eyes rolled, eyelashes flutttering. You bucked your hips up into his mouth. Normally, this might have been punished for your actions, but Charlie seemed to be too lost in the taste of you this evening to do much more than groan, pressing into you harder, tongue twisting it's way inside of you. At the same time, his teeth grazed against the hood of your clit, sending tremors through you strong enough to clench down on his tongue. He knew this meant you were close, and began to drill into you even harder, tongue slipping out of you to trail up, forming shapes with it that left you shaking, before thrusting it back in. He occasionally paused to suck on your clit, paying it special attention as he coaxed you into what you were only now realizing was your second orgasm of the night, the first occurring when you had felt the stream of urine exiting your bladder, alleviation filling you, and an orgasm slipping its way into the overwhelm of feelings. The second orgasm rushed through you now, that much stronger than its predecessor, and what may have been squirt flew onto Charlie's already soaking wet face as he pulled back so as not to overstimulate you too much more. However, it was followed up with another warm, heady gush of piss between your legs. The splatter became a stream, and tears of arousal and embarrassment flooded your eyes as you wet yourself on your couch for the second time that evening.

Charlie chuckled lowly, the rumble echoing in the room that was now almost debilitatingly silent, allowing you to achingly comb through each and every action of yours from the past several hours, each of the, albeit few, words you had said, and the shame to start climbing up in your chest. Charlie, ever the intelligent man, quickly stood up, pretending to dust himself off to catch your attention, before gesturing to his still hard dick in his pants. "No drifting off on me now, sweet thing. You've got work to do,"

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bluuf0 · 2 months ago

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Hide and Seek

Someone’s calling you. Someone’s outside your door. Someone’s in your house. All you can do is run.

Gender neutral reader.

Warnings: Smut, CNC/dubcon, chasing, death threats, knife, stalking.

Probably poorly edited (i’m tired lol), sorry!

Tags: @tree-nuts-stuff @teslasucks37 @rentaldarling @slmcclsgirl

Vrrr. Vrrr.

Where the hell was your phone?

VRRR. VRRR. VRRR.

“Okay, I get it!”

You draped your towel over your head, rubbing at your hair. Droplets collected on your neck as you stepped out of the steamy bathroom.

Who’s calling on a Friday night, anyway?

You’d left your phone on the kitchen counter, next to the microwave popcorn bag, so you’d remember to make it.

Once you had tossed it in the microwave, you checked your missed callls 5 already, all 5 minutes apart, beginning from just before you got in the shower. And all of them from the same unknown number. No voicemails.

You had to stop yourself from throwing your phone when it suddenly erupted into vibrations, just as the kernels began to pop.

“Hello, who is this?” You asked, more than a twinge of anger in your voice.

“Sorry, did I make you mad?” The voice on the other end sounded amused, low and sweet, causing you to lose the little nerve you had.

“I- sorry, um. I just saw the missed calls, and—“

“Yeahhh, I really had to talk to you.”

“Right. May I ask who this is?”

“You may not.”

“Oh.” You sucked your teeth. “Okay, well, if you have nothing more to say, then nice talking to you.”

“Wait, don’t hang up. Let’s have a little fun.”

With those words, realization hit you. You checked the area code of the number. It matched yours, meaning more than likely, someone was fucking with you.

“Listen, if this is about that video from last year, you can go fuck yourself. I don’t need another asshole trying to make a fool of me.”

“No, no, I swear, that’s not it.”

“Really? You just decided to call me for ‘some fun?’ Thought you’d see if you could get your own little video to share with your friends?”

“I would never—“

“I am so sick of losers like you calling me up. Sick of being the goddamn town tramp. Goodbye.”

“I don’t even know what video you’re talking about!”

You hung up the second the words left his mouth. So much for a peaceful night. As you poured your popcorn into a bowl, you considered blocking the number, but something was holding you back. Maybe he was being honest.

It didn’t matter. You couldn’t afford to further damage your reputation, so whatever kind of “fun” he wanted to have, you’d take no part in it. He could find someone else to grind against his screen to. All you had to do was put it out of your head.

Unless he called again. Which he did, not twenty minutes later. The first thing he said when you picked up was, “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You should be angry. You should be furious that some guy you didn’t even know was calling you “baby.” But you weren’t. You found yourself sitting on the couch, munching your popcorn, explaining what happened to him. The DVD case sat open on top of the player.

“I thought I could trust him. I loved him. And then he posted it on his fucking Instagram and sent it to all his friends, so they could get off on it, too. The whole town has seen me.”

“He deserves nothing but pain and suffering for what he did to you, gaining your trust just to betray you.”

“Thank you.” You sniffled a bit, wiping the last of your tears on your sleeve. “You called me just to comfort me about this?”

“No, but I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s okay, why did you call?”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.” You cleared your throat and sat up. “What is it?”

“Well, I thought you’d be interested in psychic powers.”

“You are not.”

“Should I prove it?”

“Um, sure?” You chewed another kernel. “How?”

“Using my special abilities, I can tell that you’re eating popcorn right now.”

“Nice try,” you giggled. “You can hear the crunching.”

“Okay, well, how about this? I can tell what pajamas you’re wearing.”

“Oh yeah? What do you think, lacy black lingerie?”

“Of course not, they’re obviously pink.”

You looked down at your cozy sweatshirt. “Right, of course.”

“Just kidding. Gray sweatshirt and blue silk shorts.”

The breath left your throat.

“What.”

“They look cute on you.”

Only your eyes moved, darting around the room for any explanation, any except that one.

“Who are you? Answer me this time.”

“So glad you asked. I am… outside your door.” His tone never lost that amused hint, and it was growing stronger now. “Now, will you have fun with me?”

“Wha, what do you want?!”

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, baby.” His breath was slow and heavy. “You’re gonna put down your phone and leave out the back door. Those woods behind your house look fun, why don’t you run in there? Pick a good hiding spot, and I’ll come find you.”

“You want to play fucking hide and seek?”

“No, definitely not. That game’s a little too PG for me. We’re going for R here, doll. Hide and… hm. Fuck or kill? Guess we’ll find out! You ready?”

“I’ll call the cops!”

“That would be a huge mistake. By the time they arrived, you’d already be dead, and I’m not afraid to go back to jail. Besides, I’m already inside, and getting closer as we speak.”

Were the stairs actually creaking, or was it your fear creating noises? Was that really breathing you heard somewhere in the next room?

“Are you ready, baby? Ten, nine—“

The phone hit the floor with a thud, and you darted for the glass door in the kitchen. You ate up time struggling to open it, and didn’t bother closing it behind you. After throwing yourself down the deck stairs, you raced into the woods, the cool night air going straight through your shorts.

You were grateful to be wearing socks, at least. The ground was littered with sharp rocks, roots, and twigs. You desperately searched for a hiding place, heartbeat pounding in your ears, and dove into an overgrown bush.

You waited, barely breathing, for countless seconds. Maybe he wasn’t there. Maybe it was all some sick joke. Maybe you could go home.

The crackling sound of sticks snapping echoed not too far away. Maybe thirty feet from your bush. You held your breath and tried not to pee your pants.

“Baby, are you close? I can smell your fear, and it smells so good.”

From your obscured view you could just make out the form of a man, broad shoulders and chest, holding something that glinted in the moonlight. A knife.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…Is that too cliché?” He giggled to himself. As he got closer, you saw the cheap ghostface mask he was wearing, and the tent in his jeans. “Isn’t this fun, doll?”

He stopped. Turned his head in your direction. And spoke. “Hold still, and this won’t hurt a bit.”

Obviously, you took off running.

But you had barely gotten twenty feet away when you felt his hands brushing your sides, reaching out to grab you. You stumbled over a root, and they seized your hips, yanking you back.

You fell directly into his embrace, and he wrapped his powerful arms around you to keep you there. Squeezing you into a hug with his knife at your throat, he cheered, “I win! I win! Yayyy!”

“Let me GO— Arrgh!” He fell face first towards the ground, trapping you between him and the earth. His breath had become more ragged and needy now, and his voice came out muffled. “Time to get my prize.” One hand went to his fly, the other still gripped the knife, forearm pinned into the ground beside your head.

“I said LET ME FUCKING GO!” You squirmed and thrashed, desperately trying to free yourself. The man stopped fidgeting with his zipper, and looked into your face. “You want to be free?”

He stood up unexpectedly, backed away, and you slowly got to your feet.

“Go on, you can leave.”

You didn’t. You stood there, biting your lip, feeling the urge in your groin beg you to stay.

“See, I knew it.” He sauntered forward, until his face was inches from yours. “You want this just as much as I do.” Another step forward.

You danced with him, backing up in time with his advance, until your back was against a thick oak. He reached up to caress your face. “I’m so glad, baby.”

His hands began working on first his, then your pants, untying the drawstring and yanking down your shorts and underwear. He lifted you up until your weight was supported by his hips, arms, and the tree, and slowly pushed his tip inside you.

“Wh-what’s your name?” You managed to get out.

“Charlie.” His breathing heavied. “Moan it for me, baby.”

“Mmfh, Charlie…” Your head fell back as he began to thrust into you, picking up speed and force with each.

“I saw that video baby. It made me sick to think you’d allow scum like that man to see you at your most vulnerable.”

He was pounding into you now. You swore the tree’s leaves were shaking, and not just from the wind.

“But I fell in love with you. You’re beautiful, you know that. And I’ve been keeping an eye on you for months now. You’re such a sweetheart… fuck.”

He was getting close, but not as quickly as you were. You felt your orgasm building up from your hole into your abdomen, filling you with pure need. “Charlie, my god, Charlie!”

He slowed a bit, savoring the feeling of your walls tightening around him.

“You’re perfection, doll. And no one, hnngh, will ever hurt you again. God, fuck, FUCK!”

He came inside you, leaving you limp and warm in the chilly air. It filled you up, hot and fast, the heat spreading through your body deliciously.

He pulled out slowly, panting, still holding you. You let yourself fall against his chest, and his hands slid up your thighs until he could support you without the tree.

“I’ll take you home, doll.”

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