Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Chuck stumbled into the bathroom in the middle of the night, he wasn’t expecting to trip on one of the many roots extending all over the linoleum. Instead of taking a nosedive right into the side of the bathtub, warm, muggy hands grabbed him and kept his face from smashing against the porcelain, which he was grateful for.

A low, deep groan, like an old tree being felled, broke the moment, and Chuck straightened up, fumbled in the dark to lift the toilet seat as he pulled his boxers down. “Thanks, Swampy,” he mumbled, and another moan sounded, making Chuck grin as he aimed for the bowl when the stream started. Just him and the swamp monster that lived in the bathtub.

He had just finished, shaking the last drops, and the same warm hand slid up Chuck’s bare thigh, making him shiver a little. “Hey, I still gotta get to bed,” he tried, but the hand kept moving, getting closer and closer to his crotch, making those weird, ancient creaking noises, communicating in the only way they could. Chuck sighed, let his boxers drop to the floor, stepping out of them and allowing the creature to take his wrist and pull him towards the tub. Swamp Monster was tall, fluctuating between six and eight feet, depending on their husbandry, and they seemed to be growing properly, since Chuck could tell they could hardly fit into the tub.

“Shit, you’re rarin’ to go, huh?” Chuck asked, one hand feeling under the shaggy moss-like shrubbery for Swamp Monster’s genitals, cock twitching in his other hand when he found it; a hot, throbbing slit that leaked a slick substance that was almost saplike, but not quite. Swamp Monster simply kept the steady stream of groans while Chuck’s fingers sank deep inside their… pussy? Chuck didn’t really have a name for it, but that’s what his brain settled on, crooking his fingers tight inside them. “Jeez, heat came early this month,” he muttered, withdrawing his fingers— Swampy could take it without prep— and lined his dick up with their entrance.

Swampy made a noise the second Chuck pushed his cock inside, almost a squeal, like they weren’t expecting it, but they were holding onto the human’s thighs, trying to drag Chuck forward, wanting him deeper. “Alright, just— gimme a second,” Chuck breathed, bracing his hands against the bottom of the bathtub, pulling out all the way before sinking back in, moaning at how tight Swampy’s cunt was around him. Chuck could hear someone in the house moving around— Orange, most likely— and sure enough, the footsteps grew closer to the bathroom while Chuck kept thrusting into Swampy, panting a little from the humidity, before the light flicked on and he looked up into Orange’s eyes, watched his friend go pink, then red.

There was a brief moment where Chuck stayed buried inside Swampy, ignoring the creature’s pathetic whining and pawing, just staring at Orange, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights, right before getting run down.

“I just,” he began, shifting from one foot to the other, and Chuck could see Orange’s dick twitch and get hard, “I heard— noises,” he finished lamely, and Chuck just nodded, muscles locked up. His cock was still inside Swampy, and Swampy was still moaning and trying to get Chuck to keep moving, which was sort of cute, but Orange was still staring like he was also glued to the spot on the floor, in the doorway of the bathroom. Soon enough, Drew would be awake, need to piss, and then— what? Catch them both there, Chuck fucking Swampy, Orange just watching like an idiot? 

A bed creaked, and that snapped Chuck out of his weird spiraling daydream.

He turned away from Orange— he could watch, for all he cared— and focused on Swampy, the way they were still whimpering and groaning, their cunt pulsing around Chuck’s cock, drawing him in more and more, and he grunted, worked his hips faster, really giving it to Swampy. “Oh,” Orange said, but Chuck just ignored him, kept fucking into Swampy, listening to their noises grow, get even louder, sounding like an entire forest, almost comforting, and he was so, so close, with Swampy’s hands on his thighs, wrapped around the backs of them, trembling under the touch. Everything was muggy, smelled like the ground after a heavy rain.

Chuck sank in as deep as he could and came then, shaking as he did, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes, feeling like he was spilling his soul inside the swamp monster underneath him, who just moaned and got tight around Chuck’s softening dick, squeezing it painfully, then relaxing— tight, relaxed, over and over. “Holy shit,” someone said, and it could’ve been Drew or Orange, or even himself, but he was suddenly so tired he didn’t care. Didn’t care that one of his teammates had seen him debased enough to fuck a creature that was basically just moss and dirt— Swampy’s hands were in his hair, brushing away the sweaty strands from his forehead, gentle, tender, and Chuck collapsed on top of them, still inside Swampy.

He slept.