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mayfieldss · 8 months

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Girl dinner - Carmen Berzatto

Content Warnings: THIS IS MY MEAL. I CALL IT GIRL DINNER ✨️GIRLLLL DINNNER✨️

Inspired by this post I saw by @thebearer (i hope you don't mind me adding to the concept)

"What the fuck is girl dinner?" Carmy sounds more than frustrated, and confused as he stares down at you, sat comfortably on the couch with your choice of meal. It's an apalling assortment of things from his point of view, though your wide smile shows you think the opposite.

"This is girl dinner." You wave down at your food before stabbing a fork into the meal, eyes drifting to the tv.

"No, no, no, I can't let you eat that." Carmy seems a little distraught as you make eye contact with him, putting more of the dish you prepared into your mouth, chewing slowly as though to make the point 'but I'm eating it anyway.'

"Fuck, please stop with the girl dinner." You love how he's adopted the phrase himself, reaching down to pull the plate away from you, though you dodge him well.

"You eat peanut butter and Jelly for dinner almost five nights a week, so don't you dare scold me for this!" You're defensive as you stand with your plate, still spooning the disaster into your mouth. It doesn't taste as good as anything Carmy would make for you, but you're stubborn.

"At least that has substance, just let me make you something—Jesus stop eating it! There's no way that's nutritious at all!"

"Fuck nutrition!" You shout back, sounding almost like a child in your defiance.

"Fuck girl dinner!" Carmy counters expertly, though there's a hint of a laugh within his words. In the phrase coming from both his lips and your own, he finds a sort of hilarity, though the point he's trying to make is a genuine one.

"But I love girl dinner." You raise your brows as if that's the perfect blow, the one that will win you the fight, despite the statements lack of foundation.

"Well, I love you, and I can't let you eat cheese string and oreos—is that a slice of fucking orange?"

"What could you make that's better than this?" It's a stupid question, and one you know that answer to as you gesture down at the plate with one hand.

"Anything, fucking anything!" Carmy runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. "What d'you want, I'll make you something, anything, just stop with girl dinner."

You take the slice of orange and bite into it, eyes locked on Carmen's. "The point of tonight's girl dinner is that I don't want to cook, and I also don't want you to cook."

"That's my fucking job."

"Exactly, you spend all day cooking, i don't want you to have to come home and cook for me too." Your voice is softer now, sweet and soothing, Carmy letting out a sigh at the sound of it.

He moves forward, taking the plate from you and placing it on the stool beside the couch. "Look, I don't mind. I don't mind making you something every once'n a while. You deal with all my shit all the fucking time, it's the least I can do." He takes your hands in his own, pressing his forehead to yours. "Just let me make you something."

"You're ruining the point of girl dinner." You mumble, pressing a short kiss to his lips as Carmy's hands run soothingly up and down your arms.

"Don't care." His mutters back, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen, your other meal long abandoned on the stool to be disposed of later.

Days pass, Carmy is still thinking about it, and when he gets to work, he has to say something to the others. "Caught my girlfriend eating fucking orange slices and oreos for dinner the other night." He mutters whilst searing a steak in prep for a menu change. He glimpes Sydney nodding, and as Fak moves behind him, the man decides to speak.

"Girl dinner, good for her."

Carmy turns so fast to face the man that he almost sets his shirt alight on the element, thinking over the utter complexities of the term. "But what the fuck is girl dinner? How do you even know about–never mind."

"You know," Fak begins as Carmy runs a hand over his face in frustration, "this is my meal, I call this girl dinner" He's reciting something though Carmen has no clue where this is going, and when Fak starts singing it all seems to get worse.

He's repeating the phrase, and yet it still means nothing to Carmy as he moves away, leaving Fak to harmonize with Sydney as he picks up the phone.

Pressing call on your contact is like muscle memory, and the sound of the first few rings leaves him impatient, though you pick up eventually.

"Hey," he mutters into the phone, listening to your voice as you parrot the word back.

"Hey, what's up?" You sound preoccupied, and Carmy swears he can hear the closing of a cupboard door, the rustling of a packet of chips.

"Uh, nothing, I just... I wanted to call and ask if you're all good for dinner tonight." He's closed his eyes, leaning against the door of his office as the quiet settles over him. "D'you need anything?"

You answer almost too fast, suspicion creeping through the line with its grasp on your voice. "No, no, I'm good. Dinner's all good."

Carmy catches the tone, a small amused smile wriggling upon his lips. "Cool, so uh, what're you having?" He scared of the answer, if you decide to be honest—which you don't.

"I was thinking tacos, maybe, I haven't decided."

"Nice," Carmy chuckles, "so none of that girl dinner shit? No orange slices and string cheese?" Carmy can almost picture it as the words come to mind, the plate of horrors he'd witnessed not a week before. There's silence over the phone, and Carmy can hear you heave a sigh, loud and final, as you come to terms with your lie. You don't say anything, though, so Carmy fills the space.

"I'm coming home t'night," he whispers into the receiver, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he adjusts his apron. "Me, you and the tacos, okay?"

His voice is so gentle, the affection dripping from the words like honey, and he's truly never spoken to someone with as much care. It scares him sometimes, just how much he loves you.

"Carmy, I make the worst fucking tacos." Your smile is hidden within the sentence, and it reaches Carmy like a wave washing the sand, though you're so far from him right now.

"Yeah, I uh, I know. That's why I'm cooking." The kitchen is starting to get loud outside Carmy's office door, and he knows he has to get out there soon to save whatever is left of the peace.

"You don't have to do that, Carm," you exhale, and he can almost picture you, leaning against the kitchen bench, strands of hair loose that, if he was with you, he would be dying to push back into place.

"I want to." He means it, the words he says. "You're important to me, and I want you to know that. I do."

Carmy doesn't know it, but you're grinning on the other end of the line, blood rushing to your cheeks at the thought of his affection. His love.

"Okay." You whisper, "you're important to me too, Carm."

That means everything to Carmy, and he's so desperate to hold onto this, so desperate to not mess this all up. Not after Claire.

"I love you." It's unusual for him to say it first, but he does this time, and his voice soothes any stress you might have. He can hear you smile when you speak again and knows he'll be thinking about the sound of your words for the rest of the day.

"Love you too, bear, see you tonight."

CARMEN BERZATTO TAGLIST: @thrutheburnout @norriebunny @yeschefthankyouchef

THE BEAR TAGLIST: @live-love-be-unique

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charliemwrites · 5 months

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Part 4 of obsessed Johnny.

(Part 3 is here!)

(CW for nonconsensual ‘sort-of’ free use and edging; and again - dubious consent. Please stay safe!!)

Johnny’s favorite pastime is playing with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s being purposefully cruel, but no. He’s just… strangely preoccupied with your body.

He spends most nights cradling you between his legs, your back to his chest, arms wrapped around you. The two of you watch tv or movies, share popcorn - sometimes he watches you play on your Switch or reads over your shoulder.

It started out almost innocent (so to speak) in the beginning. He’s a fidgety guy, you’ve known that long before this whole mess, used to smile to yourself when you cleaned up straw wrappers and clean napkins folded into odd shapes.

So you barely notice when he starts fiddling with the hems of your sweatshirt and long shirts, picking at strings or running his thumb over knit textures. When he moved to your socks, that caught your attention but never went very far - just tugging at elastic lace or rolling/unrolling the tops along your thighs.

And then one night, as the two of you are watching the latest superhero movie, he hand creeps under your panties. You jolt the instant his fingers grazes your slit, hands twitching as you debate the dangers of redirecting him.

“Something wrong, Bonnie?” he asks against your ear, genuinely curious. “Is it too loud?”

It occurs to you that he genuinely might not realize what he’s doing - that reaching for you is just a thoughtless action like folding up bits of paper.

“Your hand is in my underwear,” you explain.

A pause. “Oh, so it is.” And to your surprise, he returns to hugging you.

It happens again though, this time you’re so preoccupied trying to beat a video game level that you almost don’t notice until his middle finger glides over your clit. You suck in a breath and die instantly.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Thought you had it that time. Gonna give it another go or you done for the night.”

Stuttering, you say you’ll give it another try, almost morbidly curious about how far he’ll go. Pretty far it turns out. He toys with your clit for 15 minutes before you clear your throat and shift, feeling unbearably wet and achy.

“Oh, shite. I did it again,” he mumbles, extracting his hand and settling it on the outside of your thigh. “No wonder you keep dying.”

The next time is during an intense tv show you’ve both gotten really into. It’s distracting from the weird reality you’ve found yourself in - but not weird enough that you can ignore Johnny tapping his finger nervously over your clit. You swear your heartbeat is starting to match that rhythm - tap, tap, tap. He doesn’t get the hint when you shift this time, eyes locked on the screen as he mutters to himself.

“No way is he secretly her brother. No fuckin’ way.”

You try to ignore it. Hope it’ll end in its own time when the tension dies down. It doesn’t. He lets the next episode load automatically, babbling to you about the crazy cliffhanger.

As it opens, his fingers travel down your slit to your entrance, find the slick there and play in it. Microthrusts against your leaking hole, just wetting his fingertip before dragging it out, up to your clit, three circles, then back down again.

It’s maddening but it’s not enough. You’re biting your lip so hard you’re surprised you don’t taste blood, thighs twitching with each jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

On and on it goes, slow and absent, maddening. Literally just playing with your pussy like a fidget toy. He’s not even fully hard against your lower back! Just the normal amount of mildly turned on that having you in his lap produces.

It’s driving you into a fucking spiral. So so sensitive, so close to the edge, but never enough. You just lay there trapped against him, dripping and desperate and determined to be quiet because you don’t know what else to do now. You can’t let yourself get off to this - but you also can’t find the words to remind him to stop.

When the episode - the finally - finally ends, he pulls his hand away, already gearing up to discuss theories for the next season with you. Instead, he’s cut off as you hiccup, near tears with being denied.

“What’s wrong, hen? I didn’t think it was that bad!” he says.

“You-you were…” you can’t get the words out, give up entirely. Time to see if he really is as devoted to pleasing you as he always swears.

You crawl out of his lap, flip onto your back, and yank him down by the hair. He makes a startled noise, eyes going huge, and then whimpers as his cheek presses into your absolutely soaked panties. Even that is a cruel but unintentional tease.

“Fix it,” you near sob.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he hurries to say, wriggling into a better position. “I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Got you all spun up, huh? Didn’t mean to. You’re just so soft and-”

You whine. “Soap, shut up and lick me!”

He moans, hips jerking hard into the mattress. “Yes, ma’am.”

#thoughts™️#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #obsessive johnny #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish

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messylustt · 11 months

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Helloo, I came up with an idea of Ethan Landry X stepmom!Reader. It's pretty kinky, I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable. I wish you a fantastic day ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Also..Love your work so muchhhh.

not uncomfortable at all sweetheart x i love forbidden tropes.

౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐭𝐨-𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐦𝐨𝐦 (𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲) : scream

stepcest, kinda dub con, kinda big age-gap (ethan is 19 in this, so legal), people pleaser reader, manipulation, faint touch on bailey x reader (not detailed), finger in mouth (I do this a lot); cheating

You heard your fiancé call from your shared bedroom, asking where he had left his ties.

"The second draw in the closet, hon!" You call back as you drop the grocery bags and keys on the kitchen bench.

Ethan watches from the couch, a scowl on his face upon hearing the pet name falling from your lips. One would think he's just disgusted to hear his dad and almost mum being affectionate. But that's not the case at all.

When Ethan had first met you he was surprised to see how young you were. He had thought you were far too young for his dad, but that could also be clued up to the fact that he found you pretty. Beautiful in fact. And as he had let his gaze travel, gulping, he realised how fucked he was if a ring found it's way onto your finger.

And that's exactly what happened. His dad had proposed, and the wedding was scheduled, causing his response to every sweet thing you said to him to be sour and rude.

You thought Ethan didn't like you. You wanted to make an effort without seeming to intrusive. Quinn seemed to be fine with you, saying how she's glad that her dad has found someone.

Bailey walked out, tightening his tie. He gave you a passing smile before rushing out the door. The police firm had some sort of dinner, where Bailey was determined to make a good impression on his boss.

Ethan continued to watch you as his dad left, leaving you take out the grocceries alone. Ethan really couldn't believe that his dad had somehow scored you. He was old, and you were in all honesty closer to Ethan's age, a much more appropriate suitor for him.

Ethan always kept you at arms length as your close proximity left him on edge to act. There were many instances where Ethan could have touched you. Innocent touches that would send his hand into his boxers when the sun was gone. Your name just a mere whimper from his lips as his head hit back against his headboard. Even moments in public, when his dad was just in the next room, working, Ethan could have let his hand wander when you both sat on the couch.

"Hey, Ethan. Any preference for dinner?" You called to Ethan, placing random food items into the fridge and cupboard.

You always spoke so sweetly to him. Ethan knew how much you wanted him to like you. But as a stepson should like his stepmum. Nothing more. And that set the scowl back onto Ethan's face.

"I don't really care." He dismissed, turning to face the tv, clicking at the remote as he scanned channels. But he barely paid attention to the show, catching your melodious voice hum a quiet tune.

Ethan wanted you to shut up, because your sweet tasting voice was making his head spin with thoughts no son should be thinking. He was a good son. He was. But when he glanced behind him at the kitchen as you rolled your sleeves up, revealing even more skin, his resolve began to break.

But then you paused, glancing over at Ethan, who quickly busy's himself with the show, acting as though he'd never been eyeing you. "Do you mind if we just get take out? Since your dad is out all night, and Quinn is with a friend."

Ethan spared you glance, trying to cool the heat threating to spill from his gaze, as he nodded. You walk over to him, resting your hands behind him against the couch. Ethan stiffens, smelling your signature perfume. He shifts by the cushions. "You don't mind?" You ask softly.

Ethan glances up at you, his breath hitching, when he meets your gentle, almost tender gaze. "Uh, yeah. No, that's fine." He quickly says, turning back to face the tv.

"Great." You sigh, landing beside him on the couch, as you bring your phone out to call the nearby pizza place.

Ethan's gaze instantly goes to your bare legs, your shorts riding up past mid thigh. If he just tilted his head slightly, he could probably see your panties—

He coughs, placing a pillow over his lap, as he tries to get distracted by the show.

You then tap his shoulder, as you whisper in his ear, asking what pizza he'd like. Ethan had to quickly answer, saying a simple pepperoni, his mind too hazy to come up with anything more detailed.

Soon you're relaxed beside him on the couch, intently watching the show displayed on the screen. It's silent besides the series dialogue and your slow breathing. Ethan can't help but focus in on the latter, catching onto the way it hitches when something scary or surprising happened on screen.

Ethan had had to keep the pillow against his now prominent bulge. He couldn't let you see. But as you gradually drew closer to him, looking away with a gasp when a monster would jump out, screaming through the tv, Ethan slowly grew to want you to notice. Maybe you'd help him. But he knew that that was wishful thinking. You were with his dad, his soon to be stepmom. Ethan clenched his jaw.

"God, Ethan." You gasp. "How can you watch this stuff so calmly?" You ask, eyes wide as you stare at the screen. Your legs had curled up to your body, your chest heaving up and down quickly.

Then your hand flies out to grab Ethan's arm, your eyes shutting tight at a disgusting view of someone getting eaten alive. Ethan glanced down at your tight grip, a small smile slowly edging his lips.

He can't help but lean closer to you, whispering. "I didn't think you were such a pussy."

You open your eyes to meet Ethan's gaze. You go to retract your hand, but Ethan quickly grabs it, keeping it pressed to his body. "I wouldn't want my soon to be stepmom to hate me, for not giving her comfort when she's scared." He mocks out.

You scoff. "It's you who hates me." You say, letting Ethan rub his thumb over the skin of your hand, as you slightly jump when a monster again cries on screen.

"'Hate's' a bit harsh." Ethan says, liking the way you grip his hand tighter.

"But it's true." You shift your gaze back to him. "You don't really like me do you?" There was a sense of sadness in your voice. You really wanted everyone to feel comfortable with your new role. Especially Bailey's children.

Ethan tilts his head. A devious, very wrong plan 'light bulbs' over his head. He shouldn't want to execute it, but then you shuffle closer to him, trying to brush off your fear as you getting more comfrtable. You were desperate for the family to like you. And Ethan was going to use that to his advantage.

Ethan interlaces your hands, letting them drop to his lap, keeping you close if you chose to move away. "How 'bout I make you a deal."

You glance at him, brows furrowed. You hadn't paid too much attention to your hands being interwined because your heart was already racing from the film. "Hm?"

Ethan grins. The first smile you'd seen from him. "If you can make it through a horror film of my choosing, I'll be nicer to you."

You nibble your lip in thought. "But I don't expect you to be totally nice to me. I just want you to be comfortable—"

"I'll be comfortable with you if you make it through the entire movie." Ethan cuts in, shifting slightly closer to you.

You pause, taking a breath to prepare yourself. "Alright. Deal." You smile.

Ethan's grin widens as he grabs the remote, choosing the movie. He chose the scariest most disturbing one he knew, knowing you'd freak out and touch him again. He wanted to be able to comfort you without it seeming out of place.

The movie begins. And not even 10 minutes in your tucking you feet under a pillow, shifting closer to a satisfied Ethan. Ethan manages to lift his arm over the back of the couch, directely behind your body. You jump, placing your and over your eyes.

"No, no." Ethan says, grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand away. "You have to actually watch it."

"But, it's disgusting." You grimace. Ethan keeps his grip on your wrist, keeping your hand by his lap.

"You can always back out. But that means I won't like you being in this house." Ethan warns with a shrug.

A determined expression covers your face as you sit straighter, which resulted in your thigh being pressed against his own. Ethan finally lets his arm slip around your shoulder, just as a particually shocking jump scare makes you press much more into Ethan's side.

He chuckles, making you mutter a quiet 'shut up'. With your gaze wide on the screen, Ethan gets the chance to stare at you, your face close.

As the movie progresses cute expressions of fear and disgust have appeared on your face. And Ethan's hand has started to draw closer and closer to the collar of your loose shirt. Ethan had quickly realised that you weren't wearing a bra.

Screams from the tv fill the room but all Ethan can focus on is the way your chest heaves up and down. Then as if his hand has a mind of it's own, his fingers slowly draw down the collar of your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin.

At first you barely notice, but then you feel Ethan's hand slipping inside your shirt, grazing his fingers over your nipple. Your eyes grow wide as your body tenses. You hear a soft groan come from Ethan as he rubs over your nipple with much more intent.

"Ethan—" You say, turning to glance at him to see he's already staring at you with a hooded gaze, filled with lust. You grab his wrist, attempting to pull his hand out of your shirt, staying gentle so as not to offend him. "I'm sorry." You say trying to keep the tension light. "I shouldn't have sat so close."

You go to move away, but Ethan pulls you back by his arm around your shoulder, now covering part of your neck. He can't resist as your neck nears, his lips beginning to drag across the tender skin.

"Ethan, I shouldn't be this close." You quickly say, placing your hand against his chest. "I know you're probably just turned on b-by the chick on screen." You gulp out.

Ethan shakes his head, his tongue now licking at your neck, his eyes fluttering shut. His hand sinks back into your shirt, now grabbing your tit, beginning to massage it. Your breathing quickens because the rough feel of his large hand is making a shiver run down your spine. "Please...Ethan. We can't."

"Didn't you say you wanted me to like you?" Ethan asks, nipping at the skin of your neck.

"Yes. But not like this. You know not like this." You say, hating the feeling of your core heating up.

"No, no. You want me to like you." Ethan says, taking his hand out of your shirt, before he swiftly grabs your thigh, pulling you around so that your straddling him. The pillow covering his hard on now tossed onto floor. "This is the only way I will."

Then before you can say another word Ethan's lips are smashing onto yours, eagerly pulling you closer, so that his bulge presses against your clothed pussy. You gasp through the kiss as you hear Ethan whimper. He kisses you with a built-up passion that you weren't prepared for. There's a moment where you forget about your already committed relationship, but when Ethan's lips return to your neck, littering kisses along your jaw, you remember. "Wait, Ethan...we really can't."

"Then stop me." Ethan mutters, as he hurriedly removes your shirt, quickly going back to kissing you. Your attempts are futile because the way his kisses are making your head spin, and the way his hard on has begun to grind into you, you can't help but let your strength drift away.

You manage to glance at the door a worried expression present. "Don't worry, no one's coming home." Ethan consoles, his licks and kisses reaching your perky nipple. You choke a gasp when Ethan wraps his lips around one, carefully sucking.

"Shit— Ethan." You breath, your back arching on its own, resulting in your hips moving against his bulge. Ethan's stuttering breath hits your tit. You stop, realising what you did.

"God, no— please don't stop." Ethan begs, grabbing your hips and trying to move you over him again.

"But Ethan— god." You gulp as the friction makes your pussy weep. "You've never— it's your first...you need to find a girl your age." You manage.

Ethan kitten licks your nipple, shaking his head. "No better person than my stepmom." He husks out.

That shouldn't have made your body shudder but it did. Ethan grinds up into you, moving your hips against him as little moans fall from his lips. "You feel so good..." He pants, watching your boobs slightly bounce at the movement.

"You know how to please a guy." Ethan continues, running his hands up and down your sides. "And I barely know how to jerk off well without thinking of you." He confessed. "Show me...I want you to show me how you please my dad. I bet he doesn't even make you cum." Then he's pulling you back down for a kiss, a grin of Ethan's only managing to break it.

At the mention of Ethan's dad, you manage to place your hands on his chest, pushing him back into the couch. Ethan stares at you, lips swollen, and realises that you may need some more convincing.

"He won't find out. Ever. I can promise that." Ethan says, keeping his hands wrapped around your body.

"But I'm practically your stepmom..." You say, managing to get off Ethan's lap.

"Fine." Ethan sighs. He watches you stand, trying to straighten out your modesty by the brushes over your clothes. "You wouldn't mind if I continue...right?"

Your brows furrow despite everything. But then your face smooths out in shocked realisation as Ethan unzips his pants, sticking his hand into his boxers, all while holding your gaze. "Ethan..."

"I'm just so turned on right now, y/n." He says, faking innocence. "I can't help but—" His mouth opens in pleasure as he begins to stroke his cock, having brought it out for your shameful eyes to see. "It's your fault." Wet noises fill the room, the tv only rolling credits now. "And I won't forgive you."

Ethan's dark eyes are practically oozing with lust as he pumps himself, letting his gaze wander down your frozen body. Your legs are pressed together in some lame form of relief, because your pussy is pulsing.

"I don't like you in this house." Ethan contines, before spitting in his hand to make his strokes more fluid. "I don't like you with my dad— fuck." His hips slightly buck up into his palm. "Do you really like him? You don't do you?" Ethan lets his head hang back, as he bites his lip.

"Because why would a gorgeous young woman like you get with someone like my dad?" He continues to stroke himself, and in all honesty you should be walking away, telling Ethan how inappropriate this is. But all you can do is stand and stare and Ethan continues to use that to his advantage.

"Yeah." He hums, a soft chuckle following. "I bet your dying to feel young hands touching you." He glances down at your thighs pressed together. "I'd touch you." He breathes. "Everywhere, especially between your legs. I mean look at you." He meets your gaze and you gulp.

"Your body is begging to be touched." Ethan is now shamelessly thrusting into his hand. "Let me touch you." He begs, his chest heaving up and down.

He meets your hesitant gaze, though he can spot the lust hidden behind. "If not, then at least give me something to help with this.” He gestures to his rock hard cock with his head. “Even just those tasty tits."

You had covered your chest with your shirt, holding it tightly to you chest. Your mind has been battling with itself, and soon the lustful side wins. You step a fraction closer, making Ethan's eyes widen with excitement.

"You just want some help...right?" You slowly ask, to which Ethan nods, his breathing picking up. You sit beside him on the couch, as you hand slowly reaches out, grazing over the pre-cum that still covers the tip of his cock. Ethan's hips jolt as his breathing stutters.

"I'll just help you cum. That's all you want...right?" You ask, meeting his gaze.

Ethan quickly nods, his hand tightening around a cushion, as he watches you spit into your hand. You had let your shirt go, letting Ethan see your breasts. Ethan's mouth opens in pleasure as you begin to stroke him, little whimpers and whines leaving his lips. "Oh—god—" He gulps out, completely dazed.

"Why do you think of me when you jerk off? Why not that girl I've seen come over?" You ask, slightly quickening your pace.

Ethan's eye's roll for a moment before he tries to answer. "Because she isn't— shit— she doesn't look like you. Or sound like you."

"What do I sound like?" You ask, situating yourself more comfortably on the couch.

"You sound like— sound like heaven."

You chuckle. "That's very sweet."

Ethan's hips thrust up into your palm. "I just want to kiss you when you hum random tunes." He confesses. "Want to touch you, because your voice makes my cock— oh god."

"My voice?" You ask, facing him a little more, as Ethan's eyes reach your breasts, bouncing a fraction from the shift.

He groans. "Can I touch you?" He asks desperately.

"I'm only helping you—"

Ethan quickly cuts in. "This will help me...oh god, this will help. Please let me touch you— I-i'll cum quicker if I can touch you."

"…alright—"

Before you manage to say more Ethan's hand is flying out to grab one of your tits, massaging it, as his thumb rubs over your nipple. "Mm, you feel so good...so good." You pump him quicker. "I love your nipples. S-so pretty." He rolls one of your nipples between his fingers.

"Are you close, sweetie?" You ask. The pet name makes Ethan thrust harder into your palm.

"Oh, god, oh god." He breathes, his hand moving up your neck to your lips, rubbing along the bottom one. He then sinks his finger past your lips. The feel of your wet mouth makes Ethan whimper pathetically.

"That wasn't an answer." You slightly tease out, as you speak slightly muffled from his finger, which had begun to explore your mouth, running over your tongue.

"Yeah. I'm close. I'm so close— fuck. You’re so pretty." He half prasies half pleads, as his hip thrusts get sloppier.

When he orgasms, his body wracking with pleasure, he spills over his stomach and your hand, as moans and whines leave his lips. He's panting, head leant back against the couch.

With one final stroke you let him go. Ethan slightly whines at the loss of contact even if any more touching would be considered overstimulation. He met your gaze, before glancing down at your tightly pressed thighs. His hand drops from your mouth, bringing your spit down to rub across your thigh.

You quickly grab his hand, keeping it from wandering. Ethan meets your gaze to see that your bringing your other hand up to suck his orgasm off.

Ethan's mouth is open, chest still heaving. He tries to move past your grip, desperately wanting to touch you.

"Ethan."

"I want to touch you." His tone is harsher than initially intended.

You shake your head, the tiniest of smiles edging your lips. "I was only going to help you."

Ethan goes to speak, but you quickly cut in. "And specifically your cock." You whisper, before getting off the couch, the ding of the doorbell breaking the heavy breaths.

You round the couch, placing your shirt back over your head. Ethan watches you, as you pause, slightly leaning over the back of the couch, by Ethan's head, as he gazes up at you.

“That’ll be the pizza.” You say, before leaning closer. “And I finished the movie.” You gesture to the frozen screen of the finished film before heading towards the door, leaving Ethan panting and even more lustful than before.

#ethan landry #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream #scream 6 #jack champion x y/n #ethan landry smut #jack champion smut #scream smut #scream 6 smut #stepmom #stepson x reader #stepson!ethan

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simonrillleyyysss · 6 months

Text

*:･ﾟ✧ BROWNIES

🌸🍡🛼

25.10.23

domestic!ghost x housewife!reader

warnings; mentions of baby 😱😱😱 pure fluff, family activities……reader is called mummy

notes; love domestic simon

‘where’s mummy?’

the child babbled, tugging at simons sleeve expectedly, peering up at him with wide eyes.

‘mummies upstairs doin’ biggirl work.’

in reality, you were taking a short nap to regain energy after your exhausting afternoon with the child, leaving simon to fend for himself with the child, hoisting the dwarf into his arms and bouncing her up and down, kissing her forehead.

‘wanna do something cool with daddy, instead?’

he questioned, watching her pull the hoodie of her dinosaur onesie up, chewing on the strings and nodding, resting her head on his shoulder, waiting for him to continue, impatiently playing with his hair.

‘ever make brownies?’

‘nouh.’

‘good.’

placing the toddler onto the counter, he kept a secure eye on her while he grabbed the needed items, lifting a large mixing bowl and handing it to the child, separating the ingredients.

after they were sorted on the countertop, ghost placed her onto the chair infront of the kitchen table, placing the egg carton onto the tabletop and opening it.

‘okay, so did y’ put the flour, sugar and the chocolatey stuff in?’

simon asked, watching her chubby fingers try to crack the eggs.

‘yeah—can i crack the egg?’

he nodded, placing his hand over hers and cracking the egg against the side of the bowl, splitting the shell apart and letting the yolk fall in, a soft gasp coming from the child.

‘i did it! i did it!’

with a chuckle, he kissed the temple of her head.

‘you did, you did it.’

‘okay, so i have to put them in there for a moment.’

simon explained, sliding the tray with brownie batter into the oven, setting the timer and slamming it shut, lifting her into his arms and sitting down onto the sofa, playing with the foam spikes of her onesie and humming.

‘what dinosaur are you?’

‘a trex?’

‘noouhh!’

she whined, hitting his chest gently with her palm and puffing her chubby cheeks out.

‘a tricept..tricertatotpos.’

‘triceratops?’

‘yah! a trucertatotpos!’

footsteps gently pattered down the stairs, a yawn erupting from your lips as you shuffled into the living room, looking over at them both.

‘mummy!’

she squealed, almost jumping out of simons arms to wrap herself around you, fingers playing with your hair.

‘hi, lovely.’

you cooed, squishing her cheeks together and combing your hand through her hair.

‘been busy?’

‘mmhh, been making brownies for y’.’

‘oh? i have high expectations then.’

you giggled, placing her back down onto the sofa and leaning over to kiss ghosts forehead, hands running over his buzzed hair, a content groan erupting from his chest, fingers gently scrubbing at his scalp.

‘mmhh..’

‘feel good?’

‘yeeaahh.’

he nodded, listening to the ding of the timer and standing up.

‘they’re done!’

the child called, quickly scurrying up and waddling to the kitchen, pointing at the oven as simon walked over, scooching her aside to sling open the oven, grabbing the gloves and pulling the tray out.

‘smell good.’

you chimed, hoisting the baby into your arms as she looked over at them.

‘can we eat them?’

‘wait till they cool down, baby.’

simon reassured, tickling her tummy as she giggled.

‘taste good!’

you hummed, taking a bite from the brownie and chewing, patting her head as she sat beside you.

‘i’m a good cook, mummy!’

with a gummy smile, she took a bite from hers—before passing it to simon.

‘nah, im okay baby..don’t want none.’

he reassured, kissing her cheek while patting her back lovingly.

‘cute little dino.’

#Spotify #ghost x reader #ghost smut #dilf ghost #ghost imagine #ghost is babygirl #simon ghost x reader #ghosts smut #simon ghost riley x reader #domestic ghost #simon riley ghost #domestic ghost x reader

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levilxvr · 5 months

Text

aot characters and their favourite christmas activities

ft. levi, erwin, armin, eren, mikasa

cw: modern au, fluff

levi- christmas markets

he loves them and they’re probably one of the best ways to get into the festive mood. When it comes to the holidays, his favourite thing to do is drive around the towns and stop by at different christmas markets. It’s kinda like a little date as well, and you’ll spend hours walking along the stalls with him picking up every piece of decoration that catches your eye, tasting wine and getting customised gingerbread houses.

The highlight of the trip is always that one homemade tea leaf stand you visit every year. That’s where levi will be tasting every sample they offer, getting absorbed into the history behind the tea and all sorts of fancy stuff. By the end of the day the entire back row of his car is loaded with souvenirs from the christmas markets, along with a couple boxes of unique tea leaves. His favourite is the orange cinnamon blend- every night the citrusy, sweet scent wafts around the living room as he enjoys it while watching tv with you.

erwin- knitting matching ugly sweaters

ok look i have this headcanon that erwin loves to knit and crochet. It’s one of his love languages, making those cute little yarn octopi and whales that you can turn into keychains and all. But when it’s christmas time he goes full focus mode, spending days knitting ugly christmas sweaters for both of you to wear. Every year erwin does a different colour theme. Last year was red and neon green, this year you both agreed on dark green and white.

He likes knitting while you lie with him on the couch, your head resting on his abdomen as you cuddle his legs while he’s creating his sweaters. It’s also easy for him to gauge your size since you’re right there and he can just slap the material on your back. Hange always teases him for being all cute and sappy, putting in effort to make matching goofy outfits but he doesn’t mind. All that matters is that you’re warm and cozy.

armin- cookie baking

What better way to spend the christmas season together than to have a cookie date? Armin invites you over every year so you can bake with him. He’s got everything covered, basic ingredients, bowls, sprinkles, icing and toppings. It’s really therapeutic and peaceful, hanging out with him as you bake all sorts of flavoured cookies. He’s great in the kitchen and knows every recipe like the back of his hand- he can just eyeball the ingredients and they always turn out perfect.

His favourite part is decorating the cookies. Armin loves spending quality time with you alone like this, chatting about anything while you help each other spread icing and dump loads of sprinkles. The real fun starts when one of you splats icing on the other, and by the time the cookies are done being decorated the both of you are covered in basically everything too lol

eren- gingerbread house competitions

Eren buys those HUGE sets like the family sized ones- but one for each of you. According to him, the bigger the better. (ykyk) Oh yeah he likes doing those timelapses as well for fun to send to armin and mikasa once you’re done. Even though he says it’s just a friendly game, it turns into a whole chaotic scene when you’re in the middle of piping icing on the roof and his entire house collapses and cracks lmaoo he’d be so pissed

Then he starts blaming it on the gingerbread quality and pleads with you to let him do yours together instead. He’d be super sweet though, standing behind you with his arms round your waist while you’re putting the jellies around it. He’d be diligently handing you more fruit drops cuz you don’t trust him with your house after what happened. In the end he eats like everything and leaves you the door and one panel of the roof.

mikasa- building snowmen

she’s such a sweetheart. Loves building snowmen representing you and her in the yard, and wraps her scarf on one of them.

“that one’s you.” she points to the one with the scarf.

“shouldn’t that be you?”

“no, my snowman gave your snowman the scarf so yours can keep warm.” she wraps an arm around you and you reach up to kiss her cheek, already blushing from the cold. After that you continue making all sorts of snowmen for the others, stacking them together in a row along the fence so you can admire them every time you go out.

Before you head back into the house she stops in front of the two snowmen closer to each other, crouches down and draws a little heart on the ground. She smiles in satisfaction, because now they’re complete.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi attack on titan #levi x reader fluff #levi ackerman fluff #erwin smith #erwin x reader #erwin x reader fluff #armin arlert x reader #armin fluff #armin x reader fluff #mikasa ackerman #mikasa ackerman x reader #mikasa fluff #eren yeager fluff #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #aot x reader

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inkskinned · 2 years

Text

but you couldn't, like, see a gay person kissing.

it was alright that i had been catcalled at 12 years old. it was alright that i had been followed and groped at 15. it was okay men were leery and treacherous. it was okay when a man asked me my age and when i said 18, he said, that age is my favorite.

don't you like feeling sexy? i love action movies, but i often have an internal tally of how often a camera will begin at someone's hips and travel to her face only as if by accident. weirdly, you can't show too-much asscrack in the same movie, even if it was the style in the nineties. sort of only apply a tasteful sprinkling of asscrack.

i am wearing a body type that is very easily sexualized. it's a compliment, you'll miss it. it is not his fault, i am told - and then usually with this assurance, someone will compare me to an object. i am, by the way, not using "i become an object" metaphorically. well, you wouldn't wear a precious watch in a dangerous city - i am the watch, in this situation. can you blame a thief for taking a jewel if it was just left out in the open? i think my personhood is the jewel, but sometimes also it is pain. a dog sees a steak. i like this one because it does refer to men as dogs, even if it does literally compare me to a piece of meat (which is, you know, somehow worse than being a dog. at least call me a bitch, babe).

it's inappropriate to show two men kissing, but it's totally normal to hear that "best" age for childbirth is 15. (it's not, by the way. try 20's & 30's. do your fucking reading). and on tv - let's cut from a murder mystery where a woman is shown brutally bloodied, carved into pieces (only pg-13) into a tampon commercial where she runs around, happy and fluttering, refusing to use the word period, white pants abounding. periods: gross, icky. violence, though, is just a gendered currency.

so it's like - you say "can we please treat women like they're people and stop cutting their heads off in advertisements" and then it's like. no actually we needed that woman's bellybutton to sell drain fluid don't like it don't look. and you say "can you please not make every latin person a drug dealer holy shit" and they're like. unfortunately if we don't make the latin person a drug dealer we literally will go rabid. and you say "okay can we at least agree you super don't need to use racist epithets why is this even a conversation we're still having" and they're like. actually my child is a make-a-wish kid and his only wish was that i get to use words that make your skin crawl and if you don't let me use the words it's because you love cancer don't you.

so it's kind of a lost cause. because when something is complicated even a little bit, you find yourself trying to explain that the solution isn't make women cover up, it's that the idea "sexualization of nonconsenting parties is wrong" can also hold hands with the idea "not every expression of fondness is sexual in nature, nor is nonhegemonic sexual expression somehow more inflammatory or inappropriate than its counterpart"- and both of those ideas can also hold hands with "the male gaze is rarely censored despite the massive amounts of societal harm it imposes." but like, that's a big thought. let's just slap "pg-13" on the movie because they actually use the word lesbian. and let's cross our fingers and hope no kid figures out they're lgbt+ before college - otherwise they have access to literally no resources, since even google will censor the results in case they're pornographic. now, if you wanted to know how to hide a body...

when i was a kid i used to keep my eyes on my toes while walking past bra stores, feeling uncomfortable. it was gross to look at ladies, i knew that much. the way the women were posed was... not for me. not even for the people shopping. it was weird. i don't think anyone actually there-for-the-product was like yeah this is inspiring.

and i remember in high school my friends and i were still talking about how uncomfortable we felt in victoria's secret, shuffling our way out into the new england chill. little yellow leaves around our feet. a guy held the door open for us. a few seconds later, he jogged up after us. we were so startled we turned to look. "sorry," he said. "i just wanted to ask how old you all are." we were young then, so we lied and told him we were older. we'd talk about this later - we all thought maybe one of us had dropped our wallet or something. he smiled dolefully. "i just wanted to say you all are fucking beautiful. you have amazing tits on you."

sometimes i wonder. what if one fraction of the effort they put into making sure no gay thing ever occurs onscreen just went into controlling and educating their own fucking population. now wouldn't that be something.

#this is all over the place #im still recovering from nona #this doesn't make sense #i think what im saying is #fuck censorship #friendly reminder the hays code was LITERALLY created to appease nazis :)

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fariesoiree · 7 days

Note

Heyy babes it's me againn

I was wondering if you'd consider writing a smutty drabble about hobie with a reader who has a praise kink? 👀

Much love from yours truly, ☄️

welcome back! always love the interactions c: of cawrse you can! idk how long this is but i think it qualifies as a fic soooo . . . hate the ending but it was getting tooooo long c: ageless and minors dni i will block you, black fem reader, she/her prns

hobie first notices the way you sort of . . . cower when he compliments you a few weeks ago. maybe cowers isn’t the best word — more like shy away. sure, you’ll always smile and accept it all with grace but there’s always something about it. if he looks at you hard enough, your brown eyes looks a little different than usual. it brings about a curiosity in him that he’s never had before.

it’s a question that dwells in the back of his mind and only resurfaces now, when you’re both created comfortable indents on hobie’s gray couch, one that he’s gotten secondhand and restored himself. he holds a wine glass in his hand, filled with cheap, store bought wine. he doesn’t care too much for the taste or expensive experience and you feel fortunate that you are able to pick out the bottle this week.

on the tv, just large enough to cover the stand, plays another episode of too hot to handle. each time another bad episode of trashy reality television comes to an end and netflix auto plays another — your account because hobie would never — you just let it continue playing, transfixed on the forced drama.

“you think you could last on a show like that?” hobie asks, taking a sip from the round glass. the wine is more sweet than bitter and leaves a subtle alcoholic aftertaste on his tongue. he would prefer something a little stronger but the point is not to get drunk. instead it’s to enjoy each other’s presence. “like, on an island with a bunch of hot guys that you can’t fuck but you want to, so bad.”

you glance at him from the corner of your eye expecting to meet his gaze, only to find the side of his face. even from this direction, the angles of his jaw is still just as sharp and reflects his true beauty in a way that used to intimidate you in the earlier days of your relationships. “well, can i fuck the girls?”

hobie’s tongue clicks against the ridged roof of his mouth with a hushed tut! he rolls his eyes but the corners of his lips twitch upwards. you’re such a smartass. “obviously not. don’t act daft.” in between his words, he pauses to scowl at the private interviews from the contestants.

“then no. plus, i only want you. if i ended up on that show after meeting you, i’d just be bored, i think. what would i even do?”

a chuckle rumbles in his chest, spreading in thick warmth that crawls its way out his throat. his head lulls in your direction and the hand, attached to the hand wrapped around your shoulder, rubs across your bare skin, left uncovered under the white shortsleeved loose, cherry patterned top. it’s long enough to be perfectly comfortable when you’re curled up into his side, hanging around your arms without constricting your movement when the fabric gets bunched and stick beneath you.

“jeez, bug. aren’t you proper perfect. always treatin’ me so well.” when he looks down at you, there’s that look again, along with the sheepish smile that slowly creeps along your face. he doesn’t know how to describe it, but it’s there and it makes him curious. you’ve never been too shy with him, not anymore at least. yet, here you are, losing your train of thought every time he sweet talks you. “why do you do that?”

this time, instead of continuing to sit there with that distracted look on your face, you squint at him. his question confuses you enough to turn your head, having to tilt your head up to eye him comfortably. “do what?” you rest the base of the wine glass on your knees, propped up and pressed into your chest. the sock-covered soles of your feet are stable on the couch.

“that thing. every time i say something nice to you, you start acting weird.” hobie explained. he mirrors your expression, confused that you’re confused. how could you not know? you’re consistently doing it, each and every time without fail.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, ‘bie.” you say with a small shake of your head. the shiny fabric of your silk bonnet catches the sunlight and reflect it back out of the skylight over your head.

hobie’s houseboat is quaint, a little small, and depends heavily on the natural lighting. several windows are littered around the walls and occasionally left open to allow the cool breeze, rolling over the water, inside the room. the kitchen and the living room are only a few steps away, so much so that hobie doesn’t necessarily need a table in the kitchen. instead, he opts for bar stools at the counter that keeps the space from feeling stuffy.

the small, gray sectional is covered in a throw blanket and a few pillows, all varying in color and material — courtesy of you. the brown, coffee table in front of you has its own decor on it. decals from different shows hobie watches, figurines of characters he’s a fan of, a couple plants too that thrive in such sunny conditions.

a little ways down the hall is the bathroom, which is more open concept than your standard way of living. the sink is left unguarded and open to the houseboat residents while the shower and toilet are surrounded by three walls and a door, all designed to mimic the texture and appearance of wood.

farther down from that is the only bedroom in the boat, the one that you frequent for midday naps when you’re seeking the comfort of your partner. the little space is does have is narrow and only enough to fit a full sized bed, stacked on top a bed frame that allows for pullout drawers beneath, optimizing the storage. there’s a window next to the bed with blinds that stay pulled up during the day so you can ogle at the soft waves the push and pull of gravity brings about.

he’s gotten his walls decorated with posters of bands, memorabilia, and other random clutter hobie’s collected over the years. it’s never truly tidy here but it’s comfortable, it’s cozy to be somewhere that feels lived in without regrets.

“you don’t know what i’m talkin’ about?” hobie reiterates with a curl of his lips. he’s got his thick, dark eyebrows furrowed together, knitting and inching together on his forehead akin to caterpillars. sometimes, he’ll rest with his head on your lap and flinch under the cold tweezers when you pluck astray hairs out of their follicles.

you shake your head again and lean further into the warmth of his side. “mm-mm,” you hum and take a sip of the stella rose, pink and swirling in the rounded walls of your glass. you can still feel his skeptical eyes focused on the top of your covered head. before he can press you anymore, you cut him off, lifting your finger to point at the screen. “she’s actually an idiot. he’s been flirting around with two other girls but she’s still trying to get with him. that’s so stupid.”

he wants to side eye you, listening to that voice in his head coming up with what feels like rational assumptions but he doesn’t, because you’ve already moved on. instead, he just shrugs and drops it entirely — for now. “maybe she’s into that. a girl cuck.”

nighttime comes peacefully. the horizon darkens as the sun dips out of visibility. you made dinner, seasoned asparagus with steaming mashed potatoes and herb-crusted chicken; hobie washed the dishes from that night and after going through the motions of getting ready for bed, you both ended up in bed and under the soft sheets, wrapped in each others arms. you’re especially grateful that the boat remains well-vented and the air is cool on the water when you’re pressed into hobie’s bare chest. his skin is always so warm to the touch, so much so that it makes you hot with prolonged contact. in the summer, you can only cuddle for a few minutes before rolling away and throwing the sheets off to cool down.

you got your phone shoved into his face, playing yet another cat video. you smile at the orange feline on your screen, running around its living room in glee. “it’s so cute. i want one so bad.”

“yeah? think you’d be better off with a rock. can’t even take care of yourself.”

you can feel him smirk into your shoulder. one of his long arms goes to trap your body before you can turn and swat at him for his antics. he knows you and how you’d probably flick his forehead for talking about you in such manner.

“what — fucking — ever. get off of me.” you mumble, writhing in his strong hold forcing you into the mattress. he’s left you with enough room to turn your head. it’s a desperate attempt but you try anyway, straining your neck towards his skin to clamp your teeth down. each time, he angles just out of your reach and scoffs.

“feral ass animal. say please and i’ll let you go.”

“hobie!” you more or less whine, lifting your legs and pushing it against is. your futile kicks do nothing but tangle your legs in his until he’s got them squeezed and trapped. you’ve officially lost and there’s nothing you can do.

hobie couldn’t be more pleased with himself and distributes more of his weight onto your back. he grins, white teeth gleaming in the yellow lighting from the lamp on the shelves above your head, set on dim and creating a cozy mood to relax in. “say it. say it or we’ll sit here all night.”

you purse, pout, and wiggle even more. your phone has been discarded and forgotten about, lost somewhere in the bed between your struggling for power. it takes a few minutes to fall still and the air fills with harsh breaths from the both of you. hobie’s giggles are mixed in with snorts and you can’t help but smile at his delight.

“fine! whatever. please let me go.” you’re more upset that you have to admit defeat than the playful battle you’ve gotten yourself in.

it’s almost immediate, the way hobie retracts his grip and removes himself from you entirely, except for the sole arm lazing over your waist, lightweight and without purpose. “atta’ girl. you’re such a good listener.”

he expect some snarky remark to leave your lips, glossy and slathered in aquaphor but nothing. you don’t do anything at all. you only lay there, hands feeling around for your phone. you don’t even turn around to smack his shoulder. you do nothing at all and it confuses him.

hobie sits up, propping his head into the palm of his hand. from here, he gets a wide view of the expression you’re trying so diligently to hide. he can see the soft, timid smile on your face. you’re too busy digging around for your phone to notice his peaked interest. by the time you’re wrapped your fingers around the now warm glass of your phone, hobie’s fingers have done the same but with your chin and tugging it in his direction. “you’re doin’ it again,” he muses.

you’re forced to roll onto your back in his new position and clutch the phone against your chest. you feel a bit like prey, stationed underneath hobie and being accused of something you aren’t even sure about. “what?” your attention flickers between both of your eyes. you’re trying to get an gauge on the situation and turn even further to him.

hobie, much like you earlier, says nothing. his brain whirs with thoughts that rush through a million miles a second. he’s back to jumping to conclusions, working through the possibilities on his own. there’s only a few theories that he can come up with but they all sound silly. all except one. “you like it, don’t you?”

“what?” you repeat, even more lost than before. you’re rapidly falling behind his train of thought and squint your eyes at him. “you have to give me more than that, hobes. i don’t understand right now.”

he repositions himself, sitting up in totality. he doesn’t hold onto you anymore and instead moves to the space in front of you, space that he created by pushing your legs apart until you’re straddling his waist. he’s got a leg hanging off the side of the bed and dangling. the other is folded into him. “are you acting dumb or are you deadass?”

the sudden change in his demeanor has you spooked, even more so because you’re left in the dark. “are you mad at me? did i do something?” you push yourself up until you’re just a few breaths away. your heart races and you’re already wondering how to make up for your wrongdoings.

with the lighting, the room is still pretty dark. you can’t see too well that far apart but when you’re up close and personal with hobie, every detail in his face is on display and perfectly meshing together.

“you like when i talk nice to you. it’s obvious, darlin’. you start acting weird every time. ever since a few weeks ago.” his accusation is based on a few things he’s noticed as the days passed.

“well, yeah.” you sound like he’s the one pretending to be dumb, getting so worked up because you’re appreciative of his kindness. “of course i do . . .? what’s your point?”

hobie shakes his head. his own night cap glints with the occasional red glow. by now, he’s got his hands on your waist making temporary indents into your skin. “no. no, not like that. i’m talking about you like it. like, real bad. like, i bet i could get your panties wet from it, alone.”

your mouth falls open in a shocked o shape. it catches you completely off guard that he’s so suddenly brought up your infatuation with his sweet talk in such a suggestive manner. “huh?” is all you can manage because worst of all, you know he’s right because you have been hoping you’ve been discrete about it this entire time. “shut up?!”

“you didn’t say no.” he looks arrogant now, thumbing the elastic band of your cheeky-cut underwear, made from a gray cotton material and hemmed with a cream lace trim. the little bow on the front is sewn in and perfected with perma-stitches. hobie pulls it back and retracts his thumb. every time it snaps back into place, his grin widens. “i mean, if you wanna experiment, we can. y’know i never mind it, gorgeous.”

it’s suffocating. this whole thing is suffocating and you feel like you’re going to die in the best way possible. this so called “experiment” was not supposed to go this far. it was only supposed to be for a little bit, a half hour max and then you’d both go to sleep with the new knowledge to expand upon at another time. this was particularly important because you had to wake up early tomorrow and hobie knows this. it’s your fault; you shouldn’t have believed him. he looked too excited to worship you in praises and got so carried away that you’ve gotten your chest pushed into the bed. the arch of your back is so deep, you’re pushing your ass so high in the air and against hobie’s thighs.

hobie’s experiment is going so well for him. he’s gotten his chest against your back and his lips right next to your ear. his goal, done successfully, is to make his words as clear as possible so they process in your brain and send another wave of desire racking through every nerve of your body. a hand of his swipes along your clit, curling around the front of your body. his arm is getting somewhat squished underneath you but he couldn’t give fuck all about it. he’s too busy focusing on your wanton moans as you lose yourself, throwing your ass back fervently.

you got your head planted firmly into the bed and hobie hates it. he despises the muffled tone he’s given no choice but to hear; he puts up with it only because he’s having so much fun, too much fun. leaned down so close the the shell of your ear, he’s able to speak so alluringly, never mind the gravely tone his voice had taken on under the strain of casting his pleasure to the back of his mind. “my good — shit, god you’re so perfect — good fuckin’ girl.”

your response is nothing but open-mouthed whines into the sheets, leaving behind a damp trace of the shape of your lips in your wake. your legs quiver and would have otherwise been plopped onto the bed but you’re held up, what little strength you can muster through your forearms and hobie’s snacked around your waist working together keeping you where he’s got you.

you roll your head in his direction and cup his cheek. you look needy, basking in the warm lighting and drowning out the croaking frogs hidden in the shrubbery surrounding the lake. your fingers dig into his cheek to pull him closer and attach your lips to his, rewarding him with wet and sloppy kiss. both of your saliva mix as your tongues swirl against each other.

each particularly deep thrust paired with the smooth words of encouragement constantly flowing from hobie sends another watery gush of arousal from your cunt. it leaks down the sides of your thighs and becomes slathered on hobie’s.

he can’t help but laugh when your attempts to kiss him fall weak and you’re moaning against him. “hobie,” you whisper with a flutter of your eyelashes. they brush across his cheek and hide the burning desire in the brown rim of your eyes behind your eyelids.

a shudder runs down your back, all in preparation for your ultimate undoing. your head droops back into the bed and you clutch the sheets between your fingers. it’s all balled up and pulled into wrinkles.

he wants to reassure you but he can’t; hobie isn’t any better. he’s just as needy as you are, just as dizzy and on the brink of ascending. it’s just something that comes with being buried in your fluttering cunt. “perfect fuckin’ pussy. soo wet f’me, huh.” he says it more like a statement than a question. he doesn’t have to ask because he knows. it’s not like there’s anyone else that can get you to unravel like this, get you so soft beneath them, get your cunt dripping in slick.

there’s a moment when all movement stills and the feeling, the orgasm ebbing away brings a certain discontent that makes you mewl in hopes that the sound would active some carnal sense in his brain. it doesn’t. the only thing that happens is hobie shifting behind you, lifting his torso until he’s looking down at you. his hands grip at your waist, thumbs pressed into the curved dimples in your back. he likes to think they’ve gotten deeper from the amount of times he’s planted them here. “you want it?”

if you were in your right mind, perhaps the eagerness at which your head rise and falls with a nod. “yes, yes please. please, hobie. i want it.” by now, your bonnet had slipped off and tumbled onto the floor, leaving your hair exposed to the elements. you’re fortune to have twisted it a few days ago because even with the hairs beginning to frizz and coil into knots, most of it remains maintainable.

you can feel his rather large palms massaging your skin. it jiggles in waves whenever his hand cracks down hot and heavy. with enough time, you’re sure he could leave behind a dull shade of red. “do it yourself then, treacle. go ahead. take your dick.” he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, brushing your hair off your shoulders until he’s able to get a good, firm grip. he’s able to lift your head this way, pulling you out of your trance so you’d really and truly hear him.

you can feel your breath hitch and is stolen away. your limbs move for you, reaching out and taking a hold of the headboard. the other hand is firm on the bed, as firm as you can get it. you’re panting by the time you’ve gotten yourself here but you know it’s the right decision because hobie’s fingers trail down the column of your spine.

your tongue goes to spread across your now chapped lips. you can feel each ridge created from your once hydrated lips, stolen from the kisses and rubbing against the sheets. with your newfound hold, you sniff, grit your teeth, and throw yourself back against him.

hobie does nothing else but lightly hold your waist and eye each ripple of your round cheeks when they slam against his groan. he wants to throw his head back but then he’d miss his front row seat to your show, in all your glory. “l - look at you. mmm, fuck! looks so — . . . so good.”

you’re so mouthy, now but it’s all warbling and blabber, nonstop and nonsensical in tandem with every stroke you subject yourself to. it’s unexpected that this is what the night ultimately led to. after watching tv, eating dinner, and bickering with the love of your life, he finishes it off by filling your pretty little head with praises.

“look at how you fit around me. y’so good.” hobie peels apart the round globes of your ass. he’s able to get a clear view of his cock, long and skinny, sinking in between the folds of your cunt. it all glistens with arousal, coating the base of his shaft in a thin, milky liquid. he can’t help but lower his head towards your body and stick out his tongue. a droplet of his spit rolls down his tongue. it adds to the wet mixture of your sex and gets lost in all the precum.

he’s going to kill you, you’re certain. his cock is going to crawl its way up your esophagus and murder you. there’s no way it won’t with how full you feel, your cunt and your brain. still, even with how overwhelmed you feel, there’s no chance you will ever stop. if anything, it’s reinforcement to keep going, to hold the headboard harder, to launch your body back farther. the praise is going straight to your head and he knows it. hell, you know it. to die like this would be an honor and somewhere, in the deep, depths of your brain, you’re hoping it never ends.

#⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻 . . . 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 . . . ☄️ 𝜗𝜚⋆#hobie x black!reader #hobie smut #hobie brown #x black fem reader #x black reader #astv hobie #x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x y/n

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marsbutterfly · 2 months

Text

When My Heart First Called Your Name

Summary: In the middle of the night, your daughter has a nightmare and asks for a bedtime story. Little did you know, Hanji had already promised her something far better than your imagination.

a/n: hey everyone, it's been a while! this is purely self-indulgent, like honestly. This was written for myself atp. but I do hope some of you enjoy 🤍

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: non-canon au, fem!Reader, non-binary! Hanji Zoe, not beta read at al, they get hot and heavy at the beginning but it doesn't last, I didn't put a specific name for your daughter but I have one in mind hehehe.

ao3 | wattpad | wc: 2.6k

Your eyes go through the same words in the book over and over again, the understanding or even the meaning of the sentences they form not truly entering your mind. You grow more annoyed with every re-read of the page and eventually, you place the book down on your lap, letting out a frustrated sigh.

The water sound that comes from the shower finally stops and the bathroom door swings open, filling the room with steam as the naked image of your partner emerges from it. Their body is wrapped in a black towel while a white one goes through their hair, scrunching up all the water out of their brown curls. They aren’t quite able to see without their glasses, but they don’t need them to realize you seem aggravated.

“Same problem as last night,” Hanji asks, walking around the bed so they stand by your side. You nod, using both of your hands to rub your face, a defeated sigh leaving your lips as the sound of their giggles fills the air. “It’s ok, maybe tomorrow you’ll finally be able to finish this chapter?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.” and as you attempt to push them, Hanji grabs hold of your arm, gently pulling you towards them. You can feel the warm sensation taking over your cheeks as you blush, their lips ghosting above yours before your bodies lace together in a delicate kiss.

Your hands go through their face, appreciating the softness that now comes in contact with your fingers, the smell of their clean body enters your nose and it sends your heart ablaze. You can’t help but hum against their lips, the taste of the mouthwash dominating your taste buds as you allow them to take complete control of the situation.

Slowly, Hanji sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you on top of their body. You wrap your arms around their neck and your legs around their waist, your lips never ceasing to touch as your tongues continue to dance in perfect synchrony. Their right hand begins to carefully make its way under your shirt, gliding through your abdomen like it has known this path all along.

Your hips buck against theirs and you notice the goosebumps that rise throughout their body. An amused giggle leaves your throat and they can’t help but grunt in response, knowing you are only doing so to get any sort of reaction you can, they silently claim not to be happy, but you know otherwise.

Before the situation can go any further, you hear small footsteps approaching the room, the faintest knock on the door as a quiet voice whispers from the other side, “Mommy?” In a split second, you hop off Hanji’s lap and begin making your way to the door as they rummage through the closet to find a new shirt to wear.

“Yes, my love?” You ask, making eye contact with the sleepy three-year-old that stands on the other side, her eyes barely open as she holds her teddy bear close to her body, except she nearly drops it when she raises her arms, hoping to be picked up. You oblige, bringing her inside the room, “you should be in bed.”

Her eyes are trying to adjust to the brightness of the TV and you finally notice the mark of the tears that recently streamed down her face. She nuzzles her head against your chest, pouting ever so lightly as she whispers, “I had a bad dream.”

You begin to touch her hair gently, laying her down in the space between your side of the bed and Hanji’s, her little eyes following your spouse’s every move as she eagerly awaits for them to join the both of you under the sheets. Once they’re properly dressed, Hanji nearly comes running towards their family, eager to nuzzle themselves against the two of you.

“I hear you had a bad dream,” they say, whispering as they adjust the covers above your bodies. The little girl nods, hugging her stuffed animal tightly closer to her body. In response, both you and Hanji wrap your arms around her small body, leaving just the perfect amount of space for her to perfectly settle herself in, “would you like to talk about it?”

She shakes her little head in response, snuggling herself in between the two of you. “Would you tell me a story?” Her little voice is barely audible and it cracks in between a few words, a clear sign of how tired she is and how much she wants to go to bed, but is unable to.

“Sure, my love,” you respond, using your index finger to brush a strand of hair off of her face, “what kind of story would you like to hear tonight? Maybe Mama and I can keep the story about the little princess going and maybe tonight we’ll find out if she made friends with the dragon that guards her tower or not.”

You can hear a faint little giggle, closely followed by a yawn. She shakes her head, “No, I want Mama to tell me the special story I was promised.”

Even in the dark, you can tell that Hanji’s face is blushing. A puzzled expression takes over your face, not truly understanding what this mystery story is all about until your partner decides to break the silence, “Why not another time? Maybe when… mommy is at work?”

You look at them with a curious expression. You were always under the impression that Hanji was completely honest with you about things that go around at home while you are gone but, for some reason, you have a feeling that that hasn’t been the case lately, especially in this scenario. The young girl shakes her head once more.

“Mama, you promised,” she whines.

“Yeah, mama,” you join in, poking out your bottom lip as you wrap your arms around your daughter’s shoulders, “you promised!”

A defeated sigh escapes Hanji’s lips, their eye roll not going by unnoticed, but nevertheless, they settle under the covers, making sure their hand is touching your hair gently so they can play with the strands while telling their secret story. You make sure to adjust yourself, one arm supporting your head on the pillow while the other wraps around your daughter and Hanji, pulling both of them as close as possible.

With a deep breath, they turn off the lights, “you have to close your eyes for this one,” they say quietly, their voice barely louder than a whisper. You aren’t quite sure who they are talking to, so you make sure your daughter’s eyes are closed before shutting your own, the last thing you see is Hanji’s silhouette shifting on the bed.

“It was the middle of winter, one of the worst snowstorms I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” their voice is soothing and filled with a warm sensation, it is enough to awaken the butterflies that had finally settled down in your stomach from your interaction from earlier that night, “you weren’t even in your mommy’s belly yet, in fact, I don’t even think I had plucked you up yet, you were still flying around in a cloud, just waiting for the perfect moment where I would come get you.”

You can hear the faint sound of your child’s giggle as Hanji’s hand pokes her little belly. She’s still wiggling around, partially trying to escape your spouse’s tickle attacks and partially trying her best to find the most comfortable position but with no success.

“Anyway, the power was out and we decided to sleep next to the fireplace, under a massive pile of blankets. It was nice, we roasted some marshmallows for dinner and -”

“But you said I’m not allowed to have candy for dinner!” The sleepy voice comes from between the two of you. You can’t help but giggle in response, your eyes still closed as you place a gentle kiss on top of her little head. Hanji’s fingers still dangle in your hair, a smile stamped on your face the entire time.

“And you aren’t,” they responded with a smile of their own, “we ended up throwing up because we also drank hot chocolate!”

“Don’t tell her that!” You gently slap their arm playfully and they laugh, from the sounds they are making, you can tell they are pretending to be offended. Instead of continuing your fake argument, they continue their story, though you aren’t quite sure why this is the story they are telling.

“We ended up falling fast asleep as soon as we started feeling a little better. In the middle of the night, a really loud and scary sound came crashing down around the house and I remember waking up crying. I wasn’t sure where I was or what was happening. It was dark and…” their voice grew a bit quieter and a bit shaky, just ever so slightly that you would not notice if you hadn’t been together for this long, “it brought back some bad memories about some bad times.”

You reach one hand out to touch their arm, stroking the skin with your nails with just enough pressure not to tickle but not enough that it would hurt them. They let out a small sigh, their eyes closed shut in an attempt to shield their mind from the horrible memories that try to pry into their head. In response, your daughter nuzzles herself against Hanji’s chest, her little eyes closed as she silently comforts her parent.

“It’s ok,” you whisper, your fingers brushing against the skin of their cheek gently, noticing how they seem to be fighting off a few tears. Your voice is quiet and soothing as you look for any words that might come in handy in this situation but when nothing comes to mind, you simply offer them a way out, “you don’t have to keep going, she’s already half asleep.”

“I want to,” they say, placing a kiss on your fingertips and you nod, squeezing their arm softly to let them know that you are not going anywhere. With a deep breath, Hanji continues to tell their story. “My heart was beating so fast I felt like it was about to try and run away from my chest, the power was still out and the cold somehow got worse throughout the night, all I could feel was this horrible feeling in my stomach.”

They fall silent for a tiny bit, checking if your daughter is still awake or not, and, in response, they receive a little nudge from the young girl, her voice faltering as it comes out, “more,” that is all she can say. The two of you can’t help but laugh quietly, knowing that there was no denying your little princess anything her heart desired.

“I was crying for a few seconds until your mother woke up. I remember that she asked me what was wrong and when I couldn’t even talk, she just wrapped her arms around me. She hugged me so tightly that it felt like air wasn’t getting in my lungs but, in that moment, that was all I needed.”

You can feel your face burning up with embarrassment, the memory of that night makes your heart skip a beat as the details are coming back to your mind. It was just an ordinary night for you, one where you helped the person you love as they went through something that wasn’t their fault, so why is this the bedtime story your child wanted to hear?

“Even without knowing what was going on or why I was crying so hard in the middle of the night, she made sure to whisper in my ear that she would be with me no matter what time of day it was, she kept touching my arm in some way throughout the night and, if I’m not wrong, she even sang me to sleep,” they giggle and your face feels like it is heating up from embarrassment.

You want to say something in return, to maybe give some extra details into the memory but their voice is so gentle that the words immediately die in your throat. They continue to speak after a few seconds.

“She never asked me what I needed, she just… knew,” you can feel their eyes on you, even in the dark and you can’t help but look away for a second before feeling their fingers brushing against your face, a silent request to get you to look back at them. You comply with a sigh. “I’ve never had anyone just know what I needed like she did that night, and still does.”

By the time they finish speaking, you can hear the faint breathing of your child in between the two of you and you offer Hanji a smile, placing a strand of your daughter’s hair behind her ear. As you are about to tell your partner that you want to take her to bed, they already beat you to it.

Slowly, you watch as they wrap their arms around her small body, lifting her off the bed as gently as they possibly can. The path to her room was not very long so you found yourself walking in front of Hanji while opening the doors for them, it’s a small gesture but it does not go unnoticed.

Finally, the three of you walk past the door with the pink flower print, making your way into the comforting shade of yellow walls. For some reason, the night light that was once connected to the wall now finds itself on the floor and the two of you suspect that maybe your daughter accidentally unplugged it when moving around her bed, maybe that is the reason why she woke up crying this night and wasn’t able to go back to sleep by herself.

Carefully, they make sure to lay the little girl down on her bed, placing her stuffed animal right next to her on her pillow before tucking the two of them in, placing a small kiss on her forehead and one on the stuffed animal’s just for good luck. You can’t help but giggle in response, it was a ritual that you had developed since the day she was born.

“What was that all about? What even was her request?” You ask quietly as you stand against the doorframe, watching Hanji as they make sure the nightlight is completely plugged into the wall. As they walk past you, they wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“Well,” the blush on their face is clear as day, even in the darkness that engulfs the hallway, in response to their motion, you wrap your arms around their neck, “she asked me when I knew.” When you offer them a confused look in return, they continue, “That I loved you.”

Their response catches you by surprise and you can’t help but laugh quietly in response, your hands going through their hair before messing up their locks, well, at least making them look even messier than before. Your heart beats quickly in your chest and the butterflies who visited your stomach earlier return once more.

“Oh?” You ask teasingly, a smile stamped on your face like a child on Christmas morning, “That’s when you knew that you loved me?”

In response, with a smile of their own, Hanji nods, their fingers digging into the skin of your hips while their lips meet yours for a quick kiss. “You were always meant to be mine.”

“Always and forever?” You ask, placing your forehead against theirs.

In a hushed voice, barely louder than a whisper, they respond with the same intensity as if they had just screamed it at the top of their longs,

“Always and forever.”

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euphemiaamillais · 3 months

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as your beautiful and amazing friend i think you should do me the honors of writing getting high with sejanus and eating his Ma’s cookies while laughing at stupid shit. feel free to add coryo into the mix ;)

- @coryosmin

mdni | getting high with sej (ft. coryo)

cw: 18+//smoking weed//mentions of sex (innuendo really)—this is the most vanilla shit i’ve written on here

while you weren’t one to partake in smoking often, your roommate/boyfriend sejanus was a major stoner. he said it helped him relax, and after all, both of your roommates/boyfriends were highly strung—coryo would’ve benefited from smoking too, but he refused the stuff.

tonight, you and sej were lounging around on the couch—you’d forced him to watch the newest season of rupaul’s drag race with you. he claimed to hate it, but he always critiqued the outfits on the runway and you knew he secretly loved watching it.

sej smoked most nights, and tonight was no different. he rolled up a blunt skilfully, and you watched as he licked the paper shut. he reached into his pocket for a lighter, flicking it twice before the flame sparked and he was able to light up the blunt.

he took a long puff, letting out a sigh as the smoke exhales from his lungs. he glanced over at you, and proffered the blunt. at first, you shook your head, but after a few seconds of consideration you decided what the hell, it wasn’t like there was anything else to do on this friday night in.

the stuff he smoked was strong, but in a good way. never the stuff to make you freak out, more just create a calm high where all you wanted to do was stuff your face and spend hours making out with him. it made you feel like a giddy schoolgirl, really.

you took a quick hit, attempting to blow it out of your lips prettily, but the smoke came out in an ugly cloud. sejanus laughed a little, and took the blunt out of your fingers so he could take another hit.

after passing it around a few times, you felt a pleasant high throughout your body. but one thing you realised was how hungry you were. your stomach was grumbling. you realised you hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, and so you got up, rummaging through the cupboards for some sort of snack.

you had a craving for something sweet, and when you turned your gaze to the counter, you saw the shiny tin of the cookies. sejanus’ ma’s cookies—the best things you’d ever put past your mouth (well, aside from two other things, but they weren’t exactly edible). you grabbed the tin greedily and rushed back to sejanus, who was laying his head against the fluffy cushion.

‘sej!’ you grinned excitedly, opening the tin to an array of chocolate chip cookies—your favourite.

‘mhm?’ he inquired, a little spaced out from the weed.

‘look what i found,’ you shoved one cookie into your mouth and practically swallowed it whole. it just tasted that good.

sejanus greedily took two cookies and you settled into the couch, nestling up against him as you two shared the tin. you must’ve had three or four cookies before you turned back to watch the tv, eyes fixated on rupaul.

all of a sudden, you burst out laughing. you didn’t even know why. it wasn’t even that funny, perhaps something in the show had happened, but you turned to glance at sejanus, who’s lips were contorting around giggles of his own.

‘baby…’ sejanus murmured, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

you rested your head against the crook of his neck, relishing in the musky, warm scent of him. you loved how he smelled of home to you, how his warmth always radiated you and made you all giddy inside.

‘i think these are my ma’s special cookies,’ he giggled again.

you cocked a brow, not understanding exactly what he meant by special.

‘what do you mean, sej? they’re just her chocolate chip cookies!’ you exclaimed, lips pursed in thought.

‘you know, special?’ he said, shoving a cookie in front of your face. you could make out a faint green tinge to the usually brown cookie.

‘oh!’ you clapped a hand against your cheek, feeling the warmth of your own skin against your palm.

you didn’t say anymore, and burst into another fit of giggles, which caused sejanus to laugh in return. your chest was beginning to ache when you heard the front door open to a rather exasperated looking coryo. when he saw the scene before him—you two splayed out upon the couch, peals of laughter spilling from your lips, his features were painted with a perplexed look.

he made his way over to the couch, and seeing ma’s cookies, he grabbed two and shoved them hungrily in his mouth. you and sejanus exchanged glances and began to laugh even more rigorously.

coryo furrowed his blonde brows, swallowing down the second cookie before wiping his face with the sleeve of his perfectly pressed white shirt.

‘what the hell is so funny?’ he asked, glaring down at you two.

you had to stifle your laughter to begin an answer, but sejanus’ snickering set you off again. tears began to form in your eyes. it was just so funny—poor coryo, unsuspecting. he wouldn’t have taken it as lightly as you and sej.

‘nothing,’ you giggled, watching as coryo’s eyes flickered from the blunt to you two giggling. his icy gaze widened with horror.

‘sejanus—please don’t tell me your ma put weed in these cookies!’

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vypridae · 3 months

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I can’t believe you got me into brokerdoll smh another ridiculously obscure hazbin hotel sapphic ship …….. I never considered them as a ship but they’re really cute 😔 dya have any headcanons for them? I imagine the other vees would tear vel a new one if they found out

BAHAHAAH UR WELCOME :3 its so cute actually . i thought of them late at night one day and went IM A GENIUS and scoured the internet but twas NOTHING

anyway !! do i have hcs? kind of ?? (half of these i came up with on the spot sorry if my phrasing sucks or if The Hcs suck)

i like to imagine brokerdoll started as velvette having an obsession with carmilla like vox has with alastor or val has with angel

(val and vox saw the signs immediately)

it eventually just delved into velvette asking vox to show her cameras on where carmilla is because she just "needed to know"

probably started shittalking her 10x more online after that

i dont have much for carmilla's side of the initial enemies-to-lovers but i can imagine her daughters see it very fucking clearly

they know their mother

anyway!! actual ship stuff

they keep this secret from EVERYBODY (including carmilla's daughters, including voxval) because it'd just be so fucking shocking if it got out

(as much as velvette wants to post about carmilla online she will refrain as best she can)

vox getting into the vees penthouse(?) super late at night and seeing velvette laying on carmilla on the couch passed tf out with some stupid tv show playing that they were probably shittalking

(he did get screenshots for blackmail)

also ill be so fr val probably knew the day they started dating BAHAHAH

hes not smart but like, i can imagine he saw the signs. he works with people in porn and there have probably been points his actors have (tried to) start dating so he probably knows that sort of stuff at least a little bit

velvette steals carmilla's hair bands i rest my case

she probably steals her shirts too honestly

carmilla loves styling velvette's hair, especially when velvette is going out somewhere

she'll have some idea for the style she wants and carmilla will execute it perfectly

carmilla won't admit how good it feels seeing velvette post 50 times in one night and, even though she's getting progressively fucked up, her hair still manages to stay perfect

(velvette doesn't wanna mess up her gf's hard work)

I'M SET ON THE IDEA BTW THAT CARMILLA IS A ROMANTIC

brings velvette flowers, maybe chocolates, just because she can

(velvette always yells at her and freaks out when she does because she's just not used to that kind of affection. she knows attention well, but not when it's this loving)

velvette having like, a voxblr blog set specifically to ramble about carmilla and no one has discovered her because it's completely anonymous and she changes up her typing patterns for it and everything

also they can both cook i think. really well

once voxval find out about them, velvette manages somehow to convince carmilla to come over and cook with her

(voxval are pure amazement that they work so well. both as a relationship and in their ability to make the best tasting food fucking EVER)

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petersbaby · 1 year

Text

Fuck it, I’m pressing post and you can’t stop me

Green - Gareth & Eddie x Reader

Warnings: high sex, reader is high but they are too (EVERYTHING’S CONSENSUAL), oral (m receiving), smut, male masturbation, threesome

Gareth is aged up to 18

“He’s still mad that I got you and not him.” Gareth says, leaned back and nonchalant in your computer chair.

“I’ve told you guys this, I’m not an item to be ‘got’. I get I’m the only girl in the group, but seriously.”

“Hey, I know that. It’s just like- it’s gotten worse, I think. He’s got it bad for you.”

“I’m yours, though. Wanna be yours.”

You look at him from the bed with eyes so sweet he has to come squish you and lay on top of you, hugging you tight. You giggled as you only struggled to breathe just a little bit, it wasn’t a problem. Worth it.

In the car on the way to Eddie’s to smoke, a couple of days later, you use the flip-down mirror to apply a fresh coat of lipgloss and Gareth takes his eyes off the road briefly to look at you.

“You’re so pretty. You know that?”

You blush. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious.” He laughs.

When you get to the trailer, you and Gareth both find a place on Eddie’s old and well loved sofa while he retrieves his supplies. You hear him rummaging around in his room, but he finally comes out with everything: the weed, the tray, the grinder, the rolling papers.

He sits and starts working his magic, grinding up the green substance and rolling it up, soon producing a pretty big joint that he lights in his mouth. You pass it back and forth to each other, 3 doesn’t really qualify as a “rotation”. You watch as the boys immerse in their creative process; sometimes they get like this.

They’ll go into song-writing mode and come up with their best ideas when they’re stoned. Eddie strums random cords on his guitar and your boyfriend jots down words in a beat up notebook.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, be right back.” Gareth announces, weirdly loud and formal, very high. You look over at Eddie and he’s stifling a laugh, trying to hard not to crack up. Very high too.

You couldn’t deny that you weren’t on the same level as them, but you were better at composing yourself. You just smile at him and shake your head, going back to watching tv.

Gareth gets up and goes down the hall to the bathroom, and as soon as the door clicks shut, Eddie puts down his guitar and scoots close to you. Like, right next to you, the spot Gareth was just in a minute ago.

“Uh�� whatcha doing there, eds?” You laugh nervously.

“Listen, I just gotta say sorry in advance. I have to do this, I’m sorry.”

“What the-“

He leans in quickly, and in less than the amount of time it takes to blink, his lips press hard against yours. You felt like you were floating, felt like maybe you were in a dream. You were somewhere far away and on cloud nine, and all you could consciously do was let him kiss you. His lips tasted good. Weed, tobacco, cherry chapstick maybe?

You take in a deep, sharp breath once you realize what’s going on. It felt like forever to you, but Gareth was still in the bathroom, it must’ve only been a mere few seconds.

Yeah, for whatever reason, you decide to kiss him back. There would be major consequences for this, this was cheating. The more you thought about it, the guiltier you grew, you finally pulled away from him.

His face was flushed and red, eyes pink tinged and glassy. Standing unexpectedly right beside the couch was Gareth, and you immediately just wanna run. You have no explanation for why you did that. You didn’t do it, you tell yourself, he did it. You just let him. And then also sort of encouraged him. Just as bad? Maybe. Either way, both of you were frozen.

“Gare, I’m so sorry, I-“ you start to tear up.

“No, man, it was me. I kissed her, I fucked up and I kissed her. Don’t be mad at her, be mad at me, if anything.” Eddie interrupts, and starts to ramble.

Gareth ignores him and looks straight to you, for some reason, worry on his face. Concern?

“It’s okay. I told you he liked you, I tried to warn you. Are you okay? Did he go too far, you know, anything you didn’t consent to?”

“N-no.”

“Good. Did you… did you like it?” He asks, noticing your heavy breathing and frazzled expression. The room fell silent. Terribly silent. You weren’t gonna answer that.

“I asked you a question.” He reminds you firmly, as though you forgot. Really, the cogs in your brain were just desperately attempting to turn.

“I- I uh, I dunno, I’m just really high. I don’t know, I’m sorry.” You were overwhelmed, feeling like your body was overheating.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Eddie tries to comfort you. “It was all me, I’m serious. Don’t be mad at her.” He tries to defend himself to Gareth.

“I’m not mad. If she likes it, I’ll let it slide. Just this once, though, Munson. Never again.” He points at the boy.

“Really?” You ask, a little dumb and confused.

“Yeah, god, if you could see yourself right now. You look desperate. You want me to share some of you?”

“Mhm. Please.” You nod.

“Alright. Remember to speak up if you change your mind or don’t feel comfortable anymore.”

You nod again. He comes to sit on the couch beside you, on the other side of you this time, patting his lap. You happily climb into it, straddling him and attaching your lips to his right away.

To be honest, it didn’t matter who’s lips they were, kissing felt really really good right now. You have little perception on just what you’re doing subconsciously, just going with what felt right. You didn’t mind it at all, just happily soaking in every sensation you feel while on top of the world.

The boys didn’t mind either. They could tell you weren’t thinking, just going with the flow. You share a deep and filthy kiss with your boyfriend and you moan softly and repeatedly while your tongue invades his mouth.

You also soon started grinding down on him while doing this, truly a desperate little mess. Eddie sits on the other side of the couch just watching you, palming his achingly hard dick in his jeans.

“Mmh. ‘M hot.” You whine and Gareth pulls your top off over your head for you without hesitation. He wanted you to feel comfortable and if you were hot, he’d help you with that. There was nothing underneath the top he took off for you.

“Jesus christ.” Eddie mutters out loud, causing you to remember he’s there. You both look over at him, he’s already sweating.

“You wanna give our friend some sugar, baby?”

“Mhm.” You nod quickly, and crawl over to him. You do the same, climbing into his lap except this time only straddling one of his thighs, and he leans in to kiss you again.

You make out now, harder than the earlier kiss, more lust in it. You find yourself rutting against his jean-clad thigh, you feel the need to look over at your boyfriend. He gives you an approving expression, as if to silently say ‘yes, that’s fine.’

Eddie surprisingly kept his hands to himself, reluctant to possibly fuck this up. All he did was look, and he looked a lot.

“Fuck, want somethin’ inside of me.” You huff, pulling off.

“That’s gonna be me, I’m not letting Eddie fuck you, baby.”

“Okay.”

“Here, scoot toward me and bend over.”

You do as he says, arching your back while he checks out the view of your ass from behind.

“You wanna suck him off?”

“Should I?”

“I think it’d be the nice thing to do.”

“Okay. Yes.” You nod.

You look up at Eddie from below your lashes and he quickly turns to face you, undoing his best buckle hastily and pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs.

You hear the same belt and zipper noises from behind you, then feel your jeans and panties being pulled off of you and you help in their removal. Gareth presses his cock against your soaking wet hole and groans to himself, you take Eddie’s cock in your hand and stroke it a few times.

“Shit.” He comments at the feeling. Your hand felt so much better than his own. You spit on the tip and it runs down his length, warm saliva glistening, and you keep jerking his cock.

You grow desperate, achingly aware of the emptiness in your cunt and wiggle your ass slightly to try to tell him you want it now. Gareth grabs your hips to still you, and sinks in not-so-gradually. A loud moan erupted from you.

“Ohhh, fuck. Oh, fuck.” You moan as he slides in and out of your wet heat with ease.

Now that you had something filling up that part of you, you decided to fill your mouth up next. You take the tip of Eddie’s leaking cock past your lips, tongue running up and down the slit to collect the precum.

“Ah, god damn it. Holy shit.” Eddie grips the couch cushions closest to his reach, not prepared for your level of skill with this.

“Her mouth is good, isn’t it? It’s all mine, too.” Gareth says smugly, smacking your ass with a little sting.

“Yes, mmmh, fuck.”

You sink down deeper, taking more and more of him into your mouth until your lips reach the neat curls at the base of his cock. Gareth pounds into you harder from behind, making you moan around it. Eddie feels the vibration to his core, almost shuddering. He’s a moaning, groaning mess.

You pull off of his dick, a string of saliva connecting it to your mouth, to speak.

“You can pull my hair. Please.”

Eddie finds his dominant hand in your hair, collecting a fistful of it and tugging at it roughly, which makes you moan.

He uses the leverage to guide your head up and down, at the perfect pace that had him quickly stumbling to the edge, hitting the back of your throat each time without a problem. You didn’t seem to have a gag reflex, so he took advantage of that. You truly were something.

But soon, you feel your release coming, just needing a little bit more. You take your hand off Eddie, pulling off of him, and reach between your thighs, beneath your body.

You start to rub circles over your clit while Gareth fucks you from behind, selfishly chasing what you want and now neglecting Eddie.

He watches you desperately and feverishly touch yourself like an animal in heat and starts fucking his fist. You whine and cry into the cushions, beginning to chant “please, please, please.”

“I’ve got you, shh. You’ll get it.” Gareth soothes, gently rubbing your ass.

“Please, daddy, oh fuck.”

Both boys groan. Eddie is so fucking jealous of Gareth.

“Please, please, I’m-“ you let out a loud, pornographic moan, one that’s familiar to Eddie only because he watches a lot of porn. You sounded just like the girls in them, heavenly.

You tighten up around Gareth’s cock and feel yourself gush a little, orgasming hard. He doesn’t let up, continuing his pace, while you whine and come down. You look at Eddie again, and see that he’s fiercely stroking his cock while just looking at you, watching you enjoy yourself.

You take over again, swatting his hand away and replacing it with your mouth. It takes a very small amount of time after this before his cock is twitching in your mouth, and that’s the only warning you get that he’s cumming.

He cums with a groan and a string of curses, letting you suck the soul out of him til he has nothing left. You feel it all run down the back of your throat and swallow it down.

When you’re done, you look up at his face to see his eyes blown out, huge and wide. He was panting, almost like a dog who got too excited, looking down at you with wonder.

“You make eds feel good? You make him happy?” Gareth asks.

“Mhm. I did.” You answer, feeling proud of yourself.

“Good girl.” He breathes heavily, fucking into your cunt hard. “My- god damn it, my turn.”

You feel his thrusts get sloppier and you know he’s close, you wait patiently to be filled up and you soon are.

“You okay?”

“I’m good.” You sigh, nodding your head.

You lay there, still in a daze, still a bit high. Still very naked. Both the boys were all clothed again, and look quite normal and casual besides their hair being a little messier than it usually is.

They seem to have come down, or are in the process of coming down, which you were still not yet.

“Okay, well put your clothes back on, ‘kay? Here.” Gareth hands you your shirt, panties, and pants, telling Eddie to go get you a cup of water. Once you have everything back on, you chug the water very fast, and they both chuckle.

Gareth lets you lay your head in his lap, playing with your hair. You’re sleepy, but you can hear them talking above you.

Something about “a one time thing,” and “don’t go telling anyone about this.” and Eddie agreeing. Too sleepy.

#eddie munson #gareth x reader #gareth emerson imagine #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson #gareth emerson smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #gareth x eddie #gareth smut #gareth stranger things

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k-marzolf · 5 months

Text

The Soldier

Angst, mentions of Billy’s mother, mentions of Alzheimer’s, friends to lovers, implied oral (f and m receiving), kissing, fluff, alcohol consumption, fem!reader.

My Christmas story for the year, I think. I worked pretty hard on it. It’s a lot longer than I usually write.

Imagine Being Loved By Me

2,201 words.

You meandered around the mall quietly, heart heavy. It was loud, kids running to and fro excited to meet Santa, Christmas music playing through the speakers, and it was beautifully decorated with sparkling Christmas trees and garland.

But you didn’t feel the joy, feeling stressed and anxious. Billy was hard to shop for, he always avoided the subject so you didn’t know what to get him.

You looked around through the different shops. Frank got him a kit for his gun last year. He already had a knife, and he wasn’t a big fan of watching movies and TV. And he had so many copies of Dorian Gray already.

It was your first Christmas with him since moving your mother into one of the care facilities for her Alzheimer’s.

The apartments were tiny in New York unless you had money and you had to move to a cheaper apartment since paying for her medical bills (and you were too prideful to ask Billy for help), but you didn’t need much.

That had been in the spring. It was December now, winter. Nearly a year since you put your mother in a facility. And it had been the best year despite that, having enjoyed your free time with Billy. He was busy a lot, but when he could make time for you, he made it count.

Earlier this morning, he had woken you up in your small studio apartment, head buried between your thighs, tasting you. You’d buried your fingers in his hair, whining and trembling, your thighs squeezing his ears.

And goddamn, he loved the sounds you made. It went straight to his cock. The way you undulated your hips and rode his face, your taste. You were better than the sweetest candy.

He’d flopped on his back, wiping his mouth and grinning, looking cheekily at you. “That sorts breakfast.” He laughed, as you looked at him dazed.

“Wanna taste you.” You said softly, scooting down his hips, kissing them, before biting his hip bone.

Billy had groaned, he could get used to waking up with you every morning, he thought hissing as your warm mouth wrapped around him. He could have almost gone off then, but he wanted to enjoy you.

It had been a good morning. But now, you were filled with anxiety, too caught up on it having to be perfect.

“You okay?” It was Maria.

“Can’t find anything for Billy.” You said, watching him walk ahead with Frank, admiring him. You ached for him, never having felt this way about anyone before. But he wasn’t just your lover. He was your best friend. The person you’d written to when things got tough at home as your mother became ill and you got lonely while he was in the Marines.

“He’d love whatever you got him, as long as you put thought into it. Don’t get caught up in the perfect gift nonsense. Just get a thoughtful gift.” Maria said encouragingly. Everyone had said that, and Frank had gruffly told you; “Bill just wants you, doesn’t care about much else.”

You sighed. “I want him to know I can love enough for both his mother and I.” You said, gripping your purse tightly.

Maria touched your arm. “He already knows that, sweetheart.”

Kids ran ahead shouting loudly, and running into Billy, and he steadied the young boy who looked up at him. “I like your hair.” The kid said, admiring his haircut.

You couldn’t see his facial expression, nor hear what he said to the kid, but the boy’s eyes brightened, before he ran off to catch up with his mother.

Billy looked behind him, smiling at you. God, you sure hoped Maria was right.

&&&&

You ended up at their house, Billy and Frank playing battleship and heckling each other, while you and Maria watched, drinking wine. “I’m comin’ for ya, Russo.”

Billy laughed, “Put up your dukes, then.” He said, cocky.

You were drunk on wine, amusing Billy as you gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “My Marine is gonna kick your ass, Frankie.”

Billy smiled inwardly at your claim on him, surprised it didn’t have him running for the hills. But you were his best friend, he felt safe with you. Frank rolled his eyes. “You’re just sayin’ that because he’s good in bed.”

Your cheeks burned. “Nuh uh. I’m saying it ‘cause he regularly beats me at it, devastates me.” You giggled, “A tactician, and…” you paused, “my bestest friend.” You slurped your wine. “I would kill for him. Kinda. Maybe just maim. I wouldn’t do good in jail.” You rambled.

By now, Billy was laughing. “God, you’re sweet when you’re drunk.”

Maria pulled you down into the chair, “Sit down, sweetheart. I don’t want wine on my clean floor.” She said, noticing how you’d been swaying on your feet.

“Can’t tolerate your alcohol?” Frank smirked, as he got a hit on one of Billy’s ships, smirking at his friend. “Lost your touch, Bill?”

“I can tolerate just fine, thank you.” You said, taking another large gulp, hand shaking as you put it up to your lips.

Billy scoffed, “You’re comin’ home with me tonight, not letting you smother yourself trying to get into bed.” He teased you. He turned to Frank, “Don't get cocky, Frankie. It’s one hit.” He said, sipping his beer.

Frank scoffed this time, but slapped the table in victory, when he hit Billy’s ship. “One hit, huh, Bill?!” He grinned.

“It ain’t a sinkin’, Frankie, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Billy laughed.

Frank flipped him off, and Billy hit one of Frank’s ships. And then another. And another. Almost sinking one.

Maria laughed at Frank’s exasperation when Billy finally sunk his first ship, making him swear under his breath. “It’s just not your night, dear.” She smiled over her glass, more sober than you. “But you were never good at this game. Lisa beat you recently.” She said slyly.

“Babe, who’s side are you on?” Frank asked, looking appalled by her candor, mouth open. “Are you a turncoat?”

Everyone but Frank laughed, as Billy sunk another ship. “All of you are gettin’ coal.”

&&&&

You both sat on the floor, feet facing the electric fireplace after leaving the Castles. Billy had brought you home, and you’d sobered a little with a bit of coffee. His cat that you’d convinced him to adopt, Lucy, was sitting on your lap purring away as you gave her scratches behind her ears.

“That cat is gettin’ more attention than me,” complained Billy, fingers digging into your hips.

You giggled, “Does Billy want head scratches?” You teased him lightly.

Billy’s breath tickled your neck as he sat behind you, arms around you as the snow picked up outside. He pinched your side at your comment making you squeal, and jump.

Lucy jumped out of your lap, looking like you’d offended her. She swished her tail, walking away with her nose in the air.

You pushed Billy down, kissing him and he smiled into it.

Finally some attention.

Your cold fingers slipped under his sweater, making him shiver, as you wiggled your hips against his. He groaned, as you pulled back admiring his flushed cheeks. “What?” He asked.

“You know you’re hard to shop for.” You said, softly.

Billy froze. It had surprised him that you intended to get him something. The only person who did was Maria.

He was quiet for a moment, looking faraway, before his eyes snapped to yours. “There was this toy soldier I wanted, growin’ up. It was one of those green ones, had a gun and everything. It wasn’t very expensive, and I’d seen it on the way to the bathroom with my mother in a department store.” He said, eyes faraway, remembering painful memories, you stroked his hair, enjoying the way he groaned softly.

You listened quietly.

“I asked her for it. She smacked my hands off her skirt, and pulled me into the bathroom. She was there to buy drugs. But she couldn’t buy me a toy soldier worth mere cents.” His thumbs stroked your hips, he sounded bitter. You wanted to ease the pain in his heart, to exorcise the demons from his past.

You kissed his mouth, the mood turning somber. You swore you’d love him enough for his mother and yourself. You wanted to give him everything. It was hard when you only made so much at the bookstore. You struggled during the holidays.

But you’d do what you could for him this year.

&&&&

You were disappointed. Billy would be busy over Christmas, so you wouldn’t be spending it together. Him and Frank were on a protection detail, and would be working over Christmas.

He’d come by to tell you, shaking snow off his coat, and looking apologetically at you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He said, voice deep, as your face fell, making his chest ache painfully. He’d fully planned on spending it with you.

His cold fingers touched yours, “I’ll make it up to you, we can celebrate later. Just you and me.” He kissed your mouth, and then he was gone.

&&&&

Christmas was a lonely affair, it was snowing out, and your tiny tree sparkled, but you wanted your best friend.

You sipped your coffee quietly, hoping he was safe. Frank, too. You’d brought Lucy over so you could care for her while Billy was away.

A piece of him.

She purred in your lap while you watched old Christmas movies, holding onto the promise he’d spend it with you at a later date

The gift you’d gotten him sat on your dining room table.

The snow picked up outside.

&&&&

Billy shivered. He was freezing his ass off protecting some young rich boy, who had gotten in trouble with a goddamn crime syndicate by flapping his gums, taunting the son of said syndicate. “My father could take on your father.”

Stupid, thought Billy in irritation. He was old enough to know better, but had been too sheltered making the young man ignorant.

Billy thought of you, probably warm in bed right now, while he froze his balls off outside during a storm. He wanted to be there, to taste the wine on your tongue, and feel your body slotted against his, with your fingers in his hair.

He could almost feel your warmth and soft touch, and it made him feel almost… colder, now aware of the cold around him. He pulled his coat closer, looking at Frank who looked just as miserable waiting for this leader of the syndicate to show up. He loved his job, but goddamn, sometimes he wondered what a 9 to 5 job would be like, where he could be with you more often.

If all went according to plan though, another day and he’d be yours.

&&&&

He kept his promise, and on the week after Christmas, you both curled up in front of his tree, drinking mulled wine, warm inside. “How was your job?” You asked.

Billy groaned. “It led to nothin’. All this build up for a fight, and all that happened was the leader wanted money instead of a fight. The father had no balls, so he gave him the money.” Billy said, rolling his eyes and drinking his wine.

You laughed, “You’re always eager for a fight.”

He grinned. “Damn straight.” He paused. “I got you somethin’, sweetheart.” He said, grabbing a package behind the tree.

Your heart fluttered as he came and sat back down next to you, leaning into you. You could smell the wine on his breath, along with his cologne. It was comforting.

You opened it, hands shaking. You hadn’t received a gift in a while, due to your mother’s Alzheimer’s. She barely remembered you some days. It was a Chromebook like you’d asked for. You bit your lip, heart full of gratitude. “So you can write like we talked about.” He hummed, sipping his wine.

“You’re so good to me, Bill.” You pressed a warm kiss to his mouth, and he groaned.

You shakily set down the gift. “I got something for you, too.” You stood up, moving to your coat, and pulling it out, shaky on your legs as you returned. It wasn’t nearly as expensive as what he got you.

Billy set his glass down, as you sat down next to him, and took the small package. He ripped through the paper, curious, and his heart stopped when he saw it. It was a green toy soldier with a gun.

“I wanted to find you what you had never had. Your mother didn’t love you, Billy, but I do. I can love enough for both—“

He cut you off with a hard kiss, tasting the chocolate you’d been snitching from his pantry, like a little kid dipping their hands in the sweets. You whined into his mouth, as he pushed you down, fingers climbing up your sweater.

He pulled back, leaning on his elbows over you. “This is why you’re mine.” He said, voice soft, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

You smiled relieved he was happy. “Merry Christmas, Billy.”

And then Lucy jumped on his back, purring.

You both laughed, and he kissed you again.

Merry Christmas, indeed.

Tags: @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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my-own-walker · 11 months

Text

Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t’ve?)

note: this special request was sent to me by @the-goblin1. thank you, my dear. you have the mind of a mastermind.

summary: evan gets the hots for his co-star during a scene

warnings: sm*t, fem!reader, p in v, evan being horny lol

+++

Evan’s POV

The success of the show was unexpected. When the second season was announced, I wasn't told anything about it. Just that I wouldn't be playing Tate again.

The new season brought many changes. Doing an anthological series came with its challenges. I would be playing an entirely different character, in a different story, set in a different place.

Kit came pretty easily to me, minus his accent. That kind of challenge is what you look for as an actor, though.

It was announced that my love interest would be played by a relatively new actress named Y/N Y/L/N. In the spirit of changing things up, Taissa wouldn't be returning this season. She wouldn't be my scene partner anymore. It was like going to school after summer break and finding out your best friend wasn't in your class.

It was a total gut punch, for sure. Until I actually met Y/N.

She and I clicked really well. We had a mutual understanding of the motives of these characters and our scenes went off without a hitch. She was quick as a whip. She knew exactly how to make me laugh. We bonded over our love of acting and our tastes in music.

She got her start only a year prior to shooting Asylum. Some Disney Channel show, she said. I nearly cackled when I found out. I sort of didn't want to relive my time as Seth in 'Phil of the Future,' but she gave me no choice. We talked about our experiences with Disney sets. She had some sort of bit part, kind of like mine. She said she played the bully in the episode.

It helped her get cast in other more serious roles. She must have really sold that bully part. A couple episodes on some medical dramas and crime shows led her to the part of Grace in American Horror Story, and I couldn't complain.

It's worth mentioning that she was absolutely stunning. Just visually a marvel. I tried not to let it affect my work, but god, was she beautiful.

It was impossible to ignore my feelings for her. It physically hurt to keep myself away. I didn't want to compromise the work we were trying to do, but man I was starving for her. Ah, the genius of pain. It was like a knife in my stomach, poking and prodding at me each time she walked into the room. A constant feeling of disquiet and adrenaline.

The tension I felt worked for the story, thankfully. I found that our scenes were more believable because of how enamored I was.

It was like I had a schoolyard crush. I found myself frightened by the bite of rejection, entirely unsure of her feelings toward me. The aforementioned knife twisted every time I thought I might fall short of the mark. That she would be repulsed by me, or disinterested in the most soul-crushing way.

I didn't want to compromise our friendship. We had grown so close. The season's filming was going so well. I didn't want to risk it all and lose her due to the shame of rejection and uncomfortable feelings between us. And I for sure didn't want her or me to lose the job because our scenes got awkward.

But then came the sex scene.

Written into the plot was a love story blossoming between our two characters. It would come to a boiling point in an intense scene in the bakery.

It was as if a softly spoken magic spell granted my ultimate wish. Being that close to her, all over her, was all I could think about since meeting her. Now it was coming true. And in a way that made it so that I didn't have to actually put myself out there and get rejected.

The shoot started without a hitch. We were briefed by the intimacy coach ahead of filming in order to make the scene as comfortable as possible for the both of us. We were fitted with the necessary modesty undergarments that kept things sanitary, but convincing for TV.

After running through some things a couple of times, both of us felt ready to start. I began the scene, Y/N walked in and we exchanged dialogue. The lines flowed naturally, growing in intensity until I had to hoist her onto the table, hungrily gripping at her clothes.

I thought I could stop myself. I thought that being in character would prevent it from happening. But my true feelings made themselves known as soon as I had to act out thrusting inside of her. My mind wandered. I pictured her and I doing this, but for real, just the two of us. No cameras. No lights. Just real and raw. Before I knew it, I felt a tightness in my pants grow. My groin began to throb. Y/N looked down at my erection and blushed, breaking character and giggling a bit.

'Cut!'

'I'm so sorry," Y/N laughed, straightening herself up. 'We can take it again, I got distracted.' She looked down at me from atop the table and smiled. My face flushed.

Was she grossed out? Fuck. I thought.

'U-uh-' I stuttered. 'Can I actually take five? I think my uh- costume malfunctioned.'

The crew obliged and I quickly made my way to a back room, hidden from everyone on set. I was so embarrassed. My cheeks burned so hot, I thought they might burst into flames. I began to adjust myself, making sure I didn't have to clean anything up before returning to work.

'Boo,' a voice said behind me. My heart nearly stopped.

'Fuck!' I yelped, shoving my dick in my pants and turning on my heel to see a very coy Y/N standing before me.

'I thought I might find you here,' she smirked. She turned around and closed the door behind her, quietly locking it.

'Hey listen, uh-' I began. 'I'm so sorry about earlier I just-' She cut me off by putting her lips on mine. I tensed at the touch but didn't pull away. I just couldn't believe it was real life. My arms wrapped around her frame, just as they did in the scene, cradling her closely. We made out feverishly, every bottled-up desire I had bubbled to the surface.

I felt for the hem of her dress, beginning to lift it up before stopping dead and separating myself from her.

'What's wrong?' she panted, looking up at me with her big sparkly eyes. My stomach lurched.

'I just, I don't want to do this if you don't,' I muttered, sheepishly. I'm not even sure if that's what I actually wanted to say, but it came out nonetheless.

'I want this, Evan,' she whispered. 'I'll confess, I think I really like you.'

'I-'

'And I think you feel the same, based on what happened a few minutes ago,' she continued.

'Y/N, I want to be professional, but fuck, do I have feelings for you,' I replied. 'But I think, I think for work's sake, we should hold off.'

'We're playing two people in love, why would it compromise our job? If anything, it would help us,' she argued.

'If we do this, I’ll run the risk of losing you, and that’s worse,' I breathed.

She didn't reply. Instead, she grabbed me by my face and pulled me in, resuming our make-out session. I couldn't hold it in any longer. I grabbed her shoulders and led her backward, pressing her up against the wall. She moaned softly. The pressure in my pants returned. Or had it ever even left?

Her hands fumbled around at my waistband, looking to unhook my belt. I helped her out, removing it in one swift motion. She took the button of my pants in her fingers, unlatching it hastily, then at last, she unzipped my fly. I tugged the trousers off and my cock sprang out, throbbing immensely. I couldn't wait to feel it inside her warm, wet pussy.

She removed her panties and reconnected with my lips, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hoisted her up the wall hurriedly, my dick finding and sliding inside her dripping cunt almost instantly. We both let out loud moans as I thrust further into her, feeling her warmth encompassing my member. Her walls tightened almost too deliciously around me, making it tremendously hard for me to stop myself from coming. I groaned.

'Oh my god,' she cried, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Her face was so contorted by ecstasy, it made me fuck her harder.

'I'm gonna come,' I moaned, thrusting just a few more times before blowing my load unceremoniously inside of her. Months of tension released. She threw her head back and cried out, signaling that she had as well.

I removed myself from inside of her and guided her back down to her feet, holding my hands on her shoulders to keep her steady. My knees were weak, too. Pure adrenaline was keeping me upright.

'Holy shit,' she panted. 'Holy shit.'

'You're so fucking hot,' I growled, punctuating it by peppering kisses up and down her neck and chest. Finally having caught her breath, she laughed.

'I think we may have to, you know, do our job now?' she snarked.

'The job where I get to pretend to fuck you? Don't mind if I do,' I replied, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her in close.

'We can go for round two after we nail this next take, okay?' she smirked. My chest tightened in the best way. She took my breath away.

+++

LOL I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY!!! writer's block had me in a chokehold. i have so many requests to get through i was like 'damn where do i even start???' clearly it was with this one. thanks for breaking the curse. more to come very very soon...

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters oneshot #kit walker

369 notes · View notes

thebearer · 9 months

Note

This isn’t a request or anything but I wanted to know if you agree with a headcannon of mine. Okay, I feel like Carmey watches tv with you when he can and it’s a bonding thing to watch reality tv. It’s quality time that decompresses and no one needs to speak, that is so Carmey coded.

So, I think that Carmen would watching cooking competition shows for inspiration, but I think his gulity pleasure is the junior British bake off because it’s very calm and no one is mean at all. I think that might be a dad Carmen thing to actively do things that make him calm, like that after a long rough shift at the bear. And hands massaging his hair as he is trying to stay up.

omg yes or just imagining one night at the bear, you decide to do a "team bonding" type exercise, maybe in the style sorta like chopped. one vs one, with different people as judges.

carmen vs sydney. three courses: apps, main, dessert. first mystery item they have to use is those shitty mandarin oranges that come in a plastic cup.

carmen makes a scallop and carrot puree spoon app blends the oranges in with the carrot for sweetness. syd makes a summer kale salad with fresh fruit and fresh oranges, but uses the juice to make a vinaigrette.

second round you use cotton candy grapes as your mystery item, the whole team cheering and egging them on while they try to cook something in the short amount of time. carmen makes a chuteny out of the grapes and serves it with rice and naan. sydney goes with a chicken salad sandwich on sourdough, a sweet and spicy sort of recipe.

last round is dessert and you choose asparagus, mainly because you hate it and you want to see what they come up with. sydney pulls out a sort of asparagus flan that disguises the taste. carmen attempted to do an asparagus tart that you gagged when you ate lol.

sydney was the winner, easily, the whole kitchen hyping her up before it was tina and marcus' turn.

even you and richie (notoriously the worst cooks in the kitchen lol) when head and head at one round. the ingredient being black garlic, which you used to make fancy butter noodles and richie used to make garlic bread... both weren't great but the staff got a kick out of watching the two of you scream and run around the kitchen.

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redheadspark · 2 months

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February prompt 7 for Barry please! Your writings are a dream !!

A/N - Awww I love this! Thanks for requesting this!

Safe

Summary - Barry's favorite place for you is right next to him.

Warnings - Just some fluff :)

“Here you are, Mr. Keoghan. Please let us know if you need anything else for this trip,”

“Thank you.”

You were looking in shock as the head flight attendant left you and Barry, going to tend the other guests as Barry was shrugging off his jacket nonchalantly and then ruffling his hair. He paused, seeing that you were frozen like a statue as he raised a brow.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, though you finally found your voice and gestured a bit wildly with your arms.

“You….got us a suite? On a plane?” You asked, trying to keep your voice down though you were in shock from the sight. Barry merely smiled, walking over to you to kiss your cheek to give you some ease.

“I did, It’s part of my anniversary gift to ya,” he reminded you as you were giving him a sweet smile now.

Barry wanted to take you on a getaway for your 2nd anniversary, thinking that you two needed some time together and to take a break from your job and his acting career. He had the stardom now to be more than comfortable in his finances for him not to need to go from project to project, thinking it was the right time for a minor break of sorts since Award Season was here and he wasn’t nominated in anything major. Although it stung, Barry never showed it, nor did he mind it too much. In fact, he thought it would be a good idea to go on a vacation with you to somewhat take his mind off of work. You both wanted to go explore someplace warmer, Barry's excuse for you to get a tan on your skin and simply watch you glow. And with Barry pressuring you that he would make all the accommodations without your help, all you had to do was pack your bags.

But you had no clue Barry was going to also plan on a first-class suite for your flight.

“Barry, this is too much for a flight,” you tried to reason as he took your carry-on bag from your hand and then gently tugged you along to the posh and luxurious plane seat. He chuckled while he tucked your bag away and sat next to you in his own chair, giving you his signature smile. The suite alone was almost the size of your bedroom in your flat: two airplane seats, a small TV opposite, a control console against the massive window, and a small mini-bar with both soda and water at the ready.

“I don’t think so,” he replied, “I’ve never used one of these suites before anyways, so it’s a treat for me as it’s for you too. Plus, you’ve been workin’ way too hard and ya need to kick your feet up officially to start your vacation,”

You were about to say something else to him when another flight attendant tapped the small door into your suite with her knuckles. Both you and Barry look to see her come in with two tall glasses of champagne on her tray.

“Complimentary Champagne?” She asked, Barry nodding his head as he took the two glasses with ease. He thanked her as she ducked out of your suite, Barry handing you the glass as he clinked it playfully with you.

“This is….great, Barry. Thank you,” You finally said, knowing that Barry would always talk his way around you trying to be reasonable with something like this. You didn’t want to come off as too frugal, but you were expecting just a business class seat with Barry for the several-hour flight to Sydney, Australia. This side of Barry was always surprising to you, how he wished to take care of you and buy you things. Of course, he was affectionate and loved spending time with you, but his other love language was gift-giving. From roses on your first date to a gorgeous necklace on your first anniversary, Barry never minded treating you and made you feel like a queen.

“You never have to thank me for lovin’ ya,” Barry reasoned as you took a sip from your drink, the crisp bubbles hitting the back of your throat and you could taste the expensiveness of it too, “Plus, I owe you more for puttin’ up with me and what I do for a livin’.”

“Not at all!” You were about to argue as he laughed and shook his head to kiss your cheek.

“You know what I mean, and I don’t mind one bit,” He explained as you laced your fingers together, “I don’t wanna think of work or anythin’ with it. When we get there, we’re gonna hit the beach and enjoy ourselves. Plus, I get to see you get a gorgeous tan,”

“And you need to stay under the umbrella to protect your skin,” you teased, Barry pocking your side as you giggled and tried to hide the laughter from behind your hand.

“You can be loud, we’re in first class!” Barry boasted as he took another sip from his glass. You were leaning your head on his shoulder for a long moment, looking at your small little suit as Barry wrapped an arm around you and kissed your hair. This was a great way to start your vacation, and you are merely starting out on the plane. Who knows what Barry had in store with you when it came to where you were staying and what you were going to do. It was all in his hands, which made you both excited and nervous at the same time.

Yet now, drinking champagne and enjoying the suite, you were less worried.

Barry woke up from his mini-nap, blinking a few times and rubbing his eyes with his fingers as the plan was still up in the air. The time on the small TV display in the suite indicated it was hour 3 of the flight, Barry yawned and was about to move when he felt your hum in your sleep.

He looked to see you asleep on his shoulder, your arm linked with his in the middle of your seats, and your feet tucked under you on the couch. You looked peaceful on your face as you slept, far too calm and relaxed as Barry grinned at the sight of you finally unwinding. The humming of the plane, both in sound and movement, was putting you and Barry in napping mode. However, right after takeoff, you both were treated to fruits and other snacks thanks to the suite perks on the plane. Then you two were chatting and catching up on your work gossip and some of the shenanigans Barry would get into on set. In the end, with you having a full belly and getting too far too comfortable in your chair with a complimentary blanket over your lap, you were falling asleep snuggled next to Barry, Barry being asleep not too long after.

He would never admit it, but he loved having you asleep on his shoulder and leaning on you. Ever since you two got together as a couple, he loved having you against him when you were sleeping. Whether it was you two holding each other in bed or tucked under his arm while reading a book, he loved it when you were asleep and comfortable in his arms. Although you could sleep anywhere, which was a rare gift according to Barry, he loved it the most when you were sleeping on him. To him, it was a sense of safety and familiarity, peaceful too since he would always wish to come home to you when he was set all day long.

He kissed the top of your head, you grumbling a bit in your sleep as he tucked the blanket against you a bit tighter before going back to sleep himself.

The End.

February Prompt Session

#fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #my love #barry keoghan x reader #barry keoghan x you

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