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answer2jeff · 5 months

Text

' treat me tonight '

a/n: this is (debatably) some of the best smut i've ever written but i'm still new to the field ! give ya girl some suggestions if desired.

song : i know we could be so happy baby.

warnings : fluffy smut, fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), piv sex (unprotected), both reader and carmen have a bit of a praise kink, brief hairpulling, the "L-word," established relationship, gets a little rough towards the end, back scratching, porn with no real plot. not proofread

word count: 2.6k+

MDNI : i am not responsible for your media consumption.

NSFW under the cut — last warning!

"Try it," Carmen cupped your jaw as he lifted the wooden spoonful of creamy, tomato soup to your mouth, thumbing your bottom lip gently so you could carefully swallow every last bit. He enjoyed feeding you, if he was being totally honest. Even if this had been upon your request. Making his girl happy with what he did best was nothing short of a blessing to him.

"Mmm," you hummed in amusement, swallowing before smiling contently and nodding your head. "'S great, Carmy. Fuckin' delicious."

Long days at work dealing with insensitive clientele and immature coworkers seemed to be so easily remedied by Carmen's cooking. You weren't sure if it was because it was him catering to you and loving you the one way he always knew how, or if the food was just that fucking amazing. Maybe a little bit if both.

"Yeah? Alright," he chuckled a bit, grabbing the ladle beside the pot and scooping the simple, yet beautifully crafted tomato soup into a ceramic bowl. He seemed to know exactly how you liked it, despite him asking you if you enjoyed it every. single. time.

You accepted the bowl with a sickly sweet smile on your face, giving Carmen a kiss on his clean shaven cheek to thank him for his gesture before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen counter. Carmen just stood with his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned against the dining table, candidly watching you enjoy the warm bowl of soup

"So," you slurped some of the soup as you paused, "I'm thinkin' of giving Syd that top we found the other day."

Thrifting had become of recent liking to you anD Carmen. Just shopping and mooching around Chicago in search of vintage pieces. Mostly to actually wear, but partly to collect or regift to fellow friends. Last time you two had a day off, you found a beautiful vintage button down. A white base with downward blue stripes with a finely stitched breast pocket containing a 'V' pattern. The cuffs were cinched perfectly. It was a little baggy, too, which you knew Sydney would love.

"Ooh, yeah. I, uh, I really liked that. I think she'd really love it," Carmen nodded, "You gonna get 'er somethin' else with it? Like, to pair with it? Or just the shirt?"

"I was gonna ask you to help me with that, actually," you pointed a finger to Carmen, turning away for just a moment to gently place the empty bowl and spoon into the kitchen sink.

Carmen always thought you had a good eye for other people's tastes. Not just in fashion. The world seemed unpredictable to Carmy. But you made it look so easy, so loving to just know what people wanted. He always wished he had that kind of understanding for people. But for now, he'd admire such a trait you had.

"Hm?"

"I remember she mentioned something about having all these cool tops n' jackets and such, but, like—hardly any nice pants other than those fuckin' jeans she loves."

"Mhm," he stepped closer to you and planted his hands on your shoulders. But you soon reached for them and planted them on your hips, earning a little upward curl of his lip.

"I know you loved those nice jeans like they were your babies 'till you had to sell them," you frowned, entangling your fingers in his messy, blonde curls while your other hand rested on the back of his neck.

"Fuck, I know. Really wish I didn't have to," he tried to let out a breathy laugh to compensate for the genuine disappointment.

Fuck, did he love those pants. Pants were the one piece of fashion Carmen didn't have to second guess himself on. From jeans to slacks, he knew how to pair every possible fabric. And he never knew how to flatter the upper half of his body, so he always wore those dammed white t-shirts.

Not that you were complaining.

Especially right now, the t-shirt highlighting his broad shoulders and exposing his thick arms plastered with sentimental tattoos you always loved. You began to run your hands up and down the exposed skin. He glanced down at your patterned touch, flattered.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, anyway, I need you to help me look for a nice pair of jeans for Sydney. Can y'do that for me, hun?"

Carmen nodded rapidly, his eyes drifting from your lips and back into your eyes. His thumbs rubbed intricate little circles of adoration into your thighs.

"Yeah, baby," he smiled. "This weekend, maybe? I can take a couple hours," tilting his head, he held your chin to pull your face just inches away from his own. Something about your tendencies to make the ones you loved happy with little surprises just warmed him.

"Mhm. That works," you sighed, planting a soft kiss on his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Carmens immediate suggestion just struck something in you. Months ago, he would've thrown excuse after excuse (although valid) as to when he couldn't be available, but never when he could. You felt proud of him.

"You're so good to me, Carmen."

"Yeah?"

He was learning. He was loving.

"Mhm," you barred your bottom lip behind your teeth, giving Carmen's arms a squeeze. He exhaled sharply and wondered where this could've been going.

You drove him a little crazier than he ever liked to admit. A delicate hand reached away from your hip and up to your face. He thumbed your bottom lip, the reflection of the kitchen light shining against your mouth that was glossy with a mix of both of your salivas. Carmen gazed at you in awe, a little embarrassed when he realized how long he'd been staring.

"I—" he shrugged, struggling to find the words, "I'd do it all for you, baby."

Whispering back as he began to cave in, he leaned into your neck and placing an opened mouth kiss on the skin. The smell of your perfume and the natural scent of your body was so familiar to him. It distracted him enough to let his hands roam up and down your torso before repeating that same motion on your thighs.

"Want you t.." you swallowed, your eyes shutting harshly when when he sucked a bruising hickey onto your skin.

"Want me to what, sweet girl?" Carmen mumbled, the butterflies in your stomach raging when his teeth grazed against the spot. You gently anchored your hand into his hair and pulled him away from your neck so you could see him again.

"Want you to treat me tonight," you whispered as your hands travled up to his shoulders.

He wished you could be more specific. But with your pretty eyes, your kiss-swollen lips, your thighs spread against the cold marble counter as they spilled out of your cotton shorts, how could he tease you any longer?

"That I can do."

—

Carmens body seemed to loosen up and relax as his rough hand slid down lower on your back to grab at the waistband of your shorts. You practically melted to his touch. He kissed you again, smiling against your lips as you giggled into the kiss once he slid your shorts down to your ankles. You nodded when he pulled away, ensuring him that he was on the right track.

"Need you t'spread, baby," his hand pried between your soft thighs.

"O—okay," You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly spread your legs apart. The wet spot of arousal in the middle of your panties was completely in view now. Feeling Carmen's eyes drifting downward, you accidentally drew your knees closer together again.

"Hey," Carmen whispered while he looked into your eyes for an answer, despite your gaze being glued to the floor.

"You okay? We don't have to do thi—"

"No, no," you shook your head, "I want to. Just..not used to it. That's all."

It was true. You'd only tried oral about twice. And it went great, you couldn't deny. But you still struggled to literally open yourself up to him. You just needed a little encouragement.

"You don't have to hide, baby. You look—you are beautiful," he kissed your forehead, "so, so beautiful. Okay?"

Finally feeling some reassurance, you tried again. You spread your legs once again and let Carmen peel your soaked panties down your legs to where your shorts had been. He gave you one last look to see if you were ready, to which you happily nodded.

In the sweetest gesture, Carmen removed his own t-shirt so you wouldn't be alone. He unbuttoned his jeans and tossed them somewhere near the dining table, being left in just his boxers that outlined his slowly hardening cock.

"Thank you," you chuckled.

"Of course."

Carmen began trailing kisses from your neck down to your shoulder blade. His hands gently lifted your tank top over your head before cupping one of your breasts, his fingertips playing with your hard nipple as he kissed you one last time. He sank down to his knees, hooking your calves over his shoulders. You scooted a little closer to the edge of the counter to give him the best access to your throbbing cunt.

"Yep. Right here, baby."

He had you exactly where he wanted you.

You finally looked down at him after avoiding direct eye contact for the past few minutes. His blue eyes fully encapsulated you. He looked gorgeous between your thighs. Especially when he sucked little hickeys that wouldn't actually last against your inner thighs that made you squirm.

"You look pretty like this, bear," your hand reached to brush a loose curl out of his face. The flush that colored his pale cheeks was cute.

"You think so?" Carmen grinned. He relished in the feeling of having such gentle yet everlasting control. In his own kitchen, his beautiful girl in his hands, her thighs around his head, fully willing and wanting to let him take every part of her he could ever imagine.

You were nothing short of perfect to him.

Not wanting to waste any more time, and without preamble, he licked a bold stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat when his grip on your thighs tightened. He started to create a sense of rhythm, roughly sucking on the sensitive mound of nerve endings before soothing it with kitten licks and flat-tongued strides.

Your hand tugged at a handful of his curls. He groaned at the sensation, swirling his tongue around you to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.

"Fuck, Carmy..."

"You got the prettiest pussy, baby. So good and wet for me," he mumbled against you, his eyes still remaining closed. He needed to focus, or else he might fall apart at the sight of pure, filthy pleasure on your pretty face.

"Shut up—" you protested.

Your thighs began to shake as your head reeled back. Carmen hesitated for a moment, wiggling his fingers around anxiously before pulling his mouth away from your vulva and ever so carefully slipping in 2 large fingers.

A long, drawn out moan escaped your mouth the moment he curled his fingers upward into your g-spot. The idea of staying quiet was out of the fucking question. Oh, and now that Carmen's tongue was back on you? Forget it.

"Oh my fucking g—fuck!" you smacked your hand over your mouth, your other hand still entangled in your lovers hair. Pulling and tugging and earning the sexiest groans you'd ever heard in your life.

The sound of your voice slowly raising in pitch was enough for Carmen to change his pace. He inched himself even closer, and at an otherworldly speed flicked his tongue repeatedly against your clit. Over. And over. And over again. But his fingers slowed down to avoid overstimulating you. He needed this to last. Blissfully.

The knot in your stomach that indicated your teeter against your orgasm taunted you.

"Carm, I'm—" you took a short breath moaning incohereant babbles along the lines of 'so fuckin' good, just like that, baby' until you blurted, "I'm probably not gonna last any longer..'S too much."

You'd grown so desperate to cum that your hips ground back and forth, the tip of Carmens tongue perfectly brushing against your sensitive clit while he used the hand that was once fucking you to squeeze the fat of your breast. With his other hand, he reached down to palm his throbbing cock through the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled his erection out from the cloth and stroked himself slowly, the final moan of "fuck," shortly followed by your name before he harshly sucked on your clit once more, was enough to throw you over the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Carmy!"

After the last couple minutes of him practically making out with your pussy, your body finally allowed itself to release, your legs shaking vigourisly as you tried desparately to catch your breath. You could literally feel a pulse-like sensation on your clit from the orgasm.

It was dirty, filthy; cumming on Carmen's pretty face right on top of his kitchen counter.

But fuck, was it hot.

—

"You think you got another one left in there for me, baby?" Carmen cooed, wrapping your legs around his hips and drawing you in so close that your breasts were pressed against his bare chest. He peppered kisses along your jaw until he resided on your lips, his tongue slipping in to create a sloppy, passionate mess of a kiss.

His clothed hard-on pressed against your clit, which was nearly fully recovered, lacking the overwhelming sensitivity it had just a couple minutes ago.

"Maybe you should find out," you teased against his ear, nipping at the skin of his neck right underneath. You gently pressed your hand against his chest, backing him up just the slightest bit so you could slip his pre-cum soaked boxers with ease.

Without another thought, Carmen carefully lined himself up with your pussy. The head of his dick passed between your folds to build anticipation. Your hands gripped his shoulders, slippery with sweat, once he finally began to push his raw cock into your hole, your arousal serving as a perfect lubricant.

"Fuck," he rasped as he watched his cock disappear into your pussy in awe "so fuckin' tight for me. So pretty n' perfect."

The two of you hardly waited to allow every thrust and slap of skin against skin get messy and rough. With Carmen desperately needing to cum and you anxiously needing to feel him inside of you, there wasn't much consideration for a slow fuck.

"Fuck me, Carmen."

With that, Carmen dug his hands into your hips and pulled several inches out of you before slamming back in. You somehow moaned louder every time. His face contorted to pure, ravenous pleasure and lust as moan and groan after groan writhed from his throat. Your nails clawed at his back, earning a "shit," and his teeth sinking into your shoulder as you ground back and forth against him to achieve the perfect thrusting angle.

"I love you," he whimpered, fucking whimpered his adoration for you. He was completely pussy drunk, his thrusts turning fast and short unlike they were when they started out.

Those words made your heart pound in your head. Sure, you'd exchanged 'I love you's' during the last year or so of your relationship, but you couldn't recall a time it was said during rough-kitchen-counter-sex.

"I love you so fuckin' much, Carm," you sobbed in a fit of utter horniness and overwhelming sense of pleasure, feeling Carmen's thick cock and squeezing your warm, gummy walls around him.

"I'm gonna cum, angel, I—"

"I know, baby. Go ahead. W-want you to fill me up."

Almost as if the universe had been working specifically in your favor, you managed to reach your orgasm just seconds before he did. Every drop of your arousal went down his thigh, while his cum perfectly filled up your cunt. He pulled out slowly watching the white and sticky semen drip down your hole.

"Was that your idea of me 'treating you' tonight?"

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #the bear smut #jeremy allen white #ugh i love him #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader smut #the bear x reader #i actually love how this turned out

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shu-porang-porang · 4 months

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Told You So

Another fluff rant inspired by Minho’s photos but there are no names mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want.

Pairs: (your bias name) / reader (gender not specified)

Theme: Tooth rotting fluff

Warnings: I don't think there's any, but let me know if I should include sth

Word count: 0.9 k

You warned him that it was really cold outside, but your cocky boyfriend believed too much in his invincibility that he shrugged it off with a “I’ll be fine babe” as he closed the door behind him.

Not long after the consequences of his action caught up with him and now he’s mewling in fever. You really wanna tease him with a “told you so” but he already knew he deserves that phrase and it was evident as he obediently accepted to visit a doctor, of course as long as you accompanied him.

You come back from the doctor’s office with medicine and groceries you picked up on the way home. He sits down on the edge of your shared bed, reluctant to change his clothes. You can’t see his lips behind the mask but the rest of his face tells you he’s pouting. He’s such a baby when he gets sick, so you offer to help him change. You take his hat off and unwrap the scarf from around his neck, then unzip his jacket and pull the sleeves off his arms. You bring him a warm comfy set of pajamas and help him into it. You reach to take his mask off too but he stops you.

“No, leave it be. Don’t wanna get you sick.”

“Oh it’s fine, you had the germs before the symptoms showed up. I either already got them or am immune to them.”

You tell him half-jokingly, trying to make him feel less guilty but he wouldn’t budge. You shrug and turn to go cook him some soup. He tugs at your sleeve, preventing you to leave.

“Don’t leave me, please.” He whines.

“Honey, I’m not going anywhere, just wanna cook you some soup so you’ll get healthy faster!”

You internally laugh at how you’re talking to him as if he’s a child, and how he is acting like a child.

“Then I’ll come with you.”

“Okay? Suit yourself.”

He follows you to the kitchen. All the while you’re cooking, he’s lifelessly sitting on a chair, with his head on the table, following your actions silently with his eyes. You occasionally ask him how he’s feeling, or if he wants some juice to which he replies with barely audible hums. His throat is sore so he’s trying to use it as little as possible. When you’re done with preparing the ingredients and now you just gotta wait till it's ready, you sit beside him, holding his hand in yours. He seems so fragile and feeble in this state.

“Jagya, why won’t you take a lil’ nap till the soup is ready? I can see your eyes are pretty tired.” You say as you place soft kisses on his knuckles. You reach with your free hand to brush through his locks, he closes his eyes as it soothes him.

“Only if you come with me to bed.” His voice already sounds sleepy.

“Okay baby, let’s go.” you can't help but comply with your needy boyfriend.

He gets up and immediately holds onto you for balance, his head is so fuzzy with fever his movements are uncoordinated. You’re starting to worry about his condition. At first you thought he was acting too sick to get pampered by you, but now you’re realizing he is indeed fatigued and helpless. You help him to the bed and tuck him in, then lie beside him on your side, your eyes fixed on his face in search of any sign of discomfort.

“Why you staring like that? I’m just sick, not dying.”

And that’s the first time in your relationship with him that you think of losing him to death. Your eyes are quickly welled up by stinging tears. You don’t want to stress him so you slide down and press your forehead to the side of his arm, so he can’t see your eyes, while trying to blink the tears away.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just thought you might fall asleep easier if I get closer to you…” you say as you entangle your fingers with his.

“I’d love that, but you get sick, move.”

“I’d love that, but I’m only moving closer.”

You lift your head up, catching his baffled expression. He watches you as you plant kisses on his clothed chest, going up to his collar bone and then neck. He tries to push you away but you easily overcome his weak resistance. He holds his hand up before his face, but that doesn’t stop you either. You kiss his palm, then the soft pads of his fingers and he finally gives up. You kiss his forehead and you sense his fever has lowered compared to a few hours ago.

“Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I wanna kiss them too.”

“Don’t be weird!” he chuckles lightly.

“I’m not being weird; it’s called showing affection silly! Has no one ever loved you before?”

“Not like this…”

He closes his eyes as requested and you can eventually kiss them. You move on to kiss his cheeks next and when the annoying mask gets in your way, you don’t hesitate to finally remove it. He knows he can’t win with you, so he just lets you do as you wish. You kiss his soft cheeks; his skin feels more tender and you treat it like it’s made of glass. You can’t resist to kiss his lips, why would you, whatever he has, you have, you can’t care. Worst case scenario, he’ll later tell you “told you so”.

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nyoomiin · 2 months

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roommates: part one.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

masterlist. next.

Needle and thread in your hands, a hum dancing under your breath. A bell chimes as a door swings open, and two hushed, urgent voices can be heard. You look up from your sewing.

One, a brunet with a charming grin, and the other, partially hidden behind him. It catches your eye — those violet eyes brimming with curiosity, meekly peeking through long hair, blue as the wine-dark sea. You’re struck with a faint surprise, then a surging sense of excitement.

“Archons, you’re perfect,” someone breathes.

It’s you.

You awaken, mood tinged with a secondhand embarrassment you can't quite place. Stretching as you clamber out of bed, you try to recall the dream you just had.

It's futile. It drifts away.

You're excited to meet your new roommate.

Your previous one had left after he got his own house, so you've had the place all to yourself for the past few months. Frankly it was getting lonely, as peaceful as it was. The "rooms” your landlord rented out were more like apartments, really, with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen.

You hope you get along with them, whoever they are. They'd be arriving today, you think. You wonder if they like soup.

Just then, you hear clinking keys, and the front door swinging open. Standing eagerly, you rush to greet your housemate, nervous and delighted all the same. You turn the corner to look, and —

— “Archons, you’re gorgeous,” you breathe.

Sharp-eyed and porcelain skin, a slender build and hair a royal blue — not to mention the way his outfit brought out everything good in him to a tee — white, and blue and utterly angelic. You only realise you’ve said something completely out of pocket when you notice the expression on his face.

You blink.

He doesn’t.

… Whoops?

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you,” you say cheerily, introducing yourself. You decide never to think about how absolutely horrendous your first impression must be ever again. “Do you need help moving your things? I made soup for dinner — do you want some?”

He shoots you the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen. “Where is my room?”

“Oh! Ehm, it’s the door furthest down the hall, and the bathroom’s the one closest to the living room.”

Saying nothing more, he brushes past you brusquely. Seconds later, a door slams shut with a resounding thud.

You frown, huffing. What a cold guy. Still, did he have to react like that…? Maybe he was shy, or something. Your… blunt comment would’ve caught anyone off guard. Anyway, pretty people are always difficult at the start, you think, reminded of how unapproachable you believed Alhaitham to be before you had befriended him.

Well, you’d just have to try again another time.

Knocking on his door, you call, “I left you some soup in case you get hungry later. Remember to heat it up before you eat.”

You don’t get a response, but you can hear his shuffling footsteps, and you decide that was enough for now.

( Inside, the wanderer curses everyone and the gods above.

To ‘rehabilitate him into society’, Nahida had basically forced him into… whatever this arrangement was. Now, he had to deal with you too?

You knock on the door then, and he stiffens.

“I left you some soup in case you get hungry later,” you say. “Remember to heat it up before you eat.”

He scoffs. Truly, what a fate worse than death. He’d find a new place to stay as soon as possible. The past was no more, and thus there was no longer a reason for your life to be entangled with his.

His heart thuds a slow, steady beat. It's a sensation he has yet to get used to.

Unwilling as he may be, he wonders if your soup still tastes the same as it did all those years ago. )

#—stellaronhvnters.#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #decided to split the oneshot into chapters bec yes

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m1d-45 · 1 year

Text

a soft place to land

summary: life can be hard. when the day is long and your body is weary, your lover is there. features zhongli, diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, and tighnari, in that order.

word count: ~800

-> warnings: none.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist >

zhongli.

his arms are sturdy around your shoulders, pressing you into him. one hand rests on your head, letting you hide in his shoulder. hes frowning, upset at seeing you upset, but carefully keeps it from his words.

“you’re alright, beloved. this will pass.”

you squeeze him tighter in response, a fresh set of tears sinking into his suit, but he doesn’t mind. you could ruin all of his clothes, and he only asks that you would be okay on the other end.

he promises you that, now. his hand slides down to the other, his embrace nearly crushing as he turns to whisper into your hair.

“it will be okay.”

you sink further into his arms.

maybe it will be.

diluc.

diluc holds you close within his office, leaning against the closed door. he’s not sure what brought this on, but it’s clear now is not the time for questions.

he presses a soft kiss to the side of your head, gently wrapping his arms around you. soft coos and sweet words fall from his lips as easy as air, slipping into your ear and slowly driving the dark, thick muck of helplessness from your mind. his words are slow, his voice quiet, but you hear him clearly.

“im right here, beautiful. it’ll be alright.”

you take a shuddering breath, pressing your face further into his jacket and breathing in his cologne. when you exhale, some of the weight lifts off your shoulders.

kaeya.

his hands are almost kneading where they’re holding your sides, keeping you sat firmly in his lap. yes, he was technically on shift, but his paperwork could wait until you weren’t crying into his shoulder.

he’s hoping the repetitive motions of his hands will help ground you, his silver tongue failing when he needs it most. he wants nothing more than to reassure you, to say exactly what you need to hear and banish your tears to a far off corner of teyvat where they’ll never harm you again, but all that escapes his mouth is the soft, gentle sound of your name. it’s careful, filled with empathy, every shake of your shoulders reflected in the harsh twist of his lips.

he lets his head rest on your shoulder, taking deep breaths in an attempt to encourage you to do the same. in, and out, in, and out, every breath measured, an inaccurate picture of his mind. he wants to hyperventilate with you, to fret and worry over his love, to ask what’s wrong and how to fix it, but that’s not what you need right now. so he counts his breaths, in (one, two, three, four) and out (one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight).

slowly, surely, you fall back to earth, right into kaeya’s open arms.

alhaitham.

alhaitham’s eyes were fixed on his book, on the theorized etymology of some of the runes in king deshret’s ruins. he kept his voice low, calm and clear, reading slowly. one hand propped the pages apart, and the other was entangled in your hair, gently sweeping arcs with his thumb.

you were lying with him on the couch, head in his lap and face buried in his side. your hand occasionally flexed and tugged at his shirt, but you didn’t speak up when he paused.

he was fine with that.

he’d sit here with you for as long as you needed, picking another book up off the end table if he needed to. whether you wanted to vent off whatever was bothering you, or simply lie in his company, he would be happy either way.

alhaitham turned the page and continued to read.

tighnari.

tighnari’s tail flicked behind him, thankfully outside of your view. you hadn’t given much explanation before you’d pulled him into a crushing hug, but his jitters weren’t from irritation. no, he could never be upset at you; he was worried.

your arms were tight around him, a sharp contrast to the gentle circles he rubbed into your back. he wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear his comfort, so he settled for non-verbal signs of it instead, leaning the side of his head to yours.

for however long you wanted to stand there, he’d be there. when the moon sank below the horizon and stars glittered in the window, he’d smooth his ungloved hands over your shirt, only speaking to offer a cool cup of water.

when you inevitably collapsed into bed, he’d lie at your side, holding you close until morning.

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s1ut4evan · 3 months

Text

—————————————

good girl - kai anderson x fem reader

*smut*

Kai demands you suck his cock.

wattpad: s1ut4evan

—————————————

•

I blow on the hot soup that's held by my spoon before shoving it in my mouth. The sound of a car door slamming outside startles me. Kai's home. Butterflies formed in my stomach as I heard his heavy foot steps on our porch.

•

The energy instantly changes as Kai enters our home. "Hi babe." I say to him as he sulks to the dinner table. Kai slams his hands down, causing the soup to splash everywhere. "You couldn't fucking wait for me?!" he exclaimed. "Kai I- I was just so hungry and I knew you'd be out late working on the campaign. I'm sorry I just.."

•

My honesty made Kai's face turn red with anger. He pushes his blue locks back with both hands. "The least you could do was make me some fucking Manwich. Not this shit." he pointed to my soup bowl. I decided staying quiet would be best as Kai was more irritated than usual so I continued eating my soup.

•

I felt his dark eyes staring right through me. "Aren't you gonna clean that shit up?" he looked at the splashed out soup that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't slammed down on our table. I nod before standing up to grab paper towels from the kitchen. I had to scoot past Kai to get there.

•

Kai had me by the arm before I could walk past him. I turn to him with tears in my eyes, "I'm sorry Kai- I'm going to clean it up." His rough hand tilted my head up to face his eyes. They were darker than ever. "Clean it up later. I'm in need of something else at the moment." he pushed his pelvis up against me.

•

His hard member, already tenting in his jeans, pressed hard against my stomach. I nod before his slender thumb sneaks its way into my mouth. Kai uses his other hand to undo his pants. "Get on your knees." he demanded. His thumb slipped through my lips as I knelt down. I felt his wet thumb press against my forehead, "Good girl."

•

I pull his jeans down slightly, taking his boxers along with them. The force from his thick cock taps against my chin. I reach up to grab hold of his member but was stopped by Kai. "No." he said pushing my hand aside, "No hands."

I place my hands behind my back as a way of reminding me that they're off limits. Kai was testing my self control.

•

My mouth opens so his cock could gain access. I lean forward before wrapping my warm lips around his swollen tip. The taste of precum lathered my tongue as I swirled it gently. I felt the pressure from Kai's hand pushing the back of my head. "Take it like the good girl you are."

•

I bobbed my head forward, allowing his cock deeper into my mouth. My tongue formed to his shaft as if it were muscle memory. Kai hummed through his closed mouth before pushing my head further into him. I look up to see his devilish smile peaking down at me. "Just like that kitten." he whispered.

•

My jaw became sore as I picked up the pace. The thought of making Kai cum distracted me from gagging as his dick pounded the back of my throat. I loved making him proud. Tears welled in my eyes as I held back my whimpers. I squeezed my hands together behind my back, reminding myself I must not use them.

•

His breathes became heavier. My hair entangled his large hands as they both wrapped around the sides of my head. Now Kai wanted control. He held my head still as he began thrusting into my mouth. I almost moved my hands to find a way to support myself but I had to obey Kai. Air hissed through his teeth as his pumps became sloppy.

•

I prepared for his load as I felt the first twitch from his pulsating member. His warm seed paints the inside of my mouth as he slowed his thrusts down. Kai pressed firmly on my head, making sure I would stay there as he finished. "Fuck." he leaned back and let my head free.

•

I remained on my knees staring up at Kai, with a mouthful of his sweet cumshots. He looked down biting his lip and gave me a nod, letting me know I could swallow. I do so before Kai gave me a hand to help me up. His hands caressed my face as his fingers swept away tears from my cheeks.

•

Kai smirked, "Now how about some Manwich?"

#kai anderson #kai anderson smut #american horror story #evan peters #evan peters supremacy #evan peters smut #daddy's good girl

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rosyjn · 7 months

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giving dilf! jake a blowie, nsfw warning mdni.

for @pandoraslxna's kinktober prompt 07!

warnings: roughness, implied aftercare, jake lowk kinda mean, explicit semen description, PENNNIISSS

he kisses you roughly, pushing you up against a tree as you grasp his broad shoulders desperately.

"knees. now." he growls against your lips, forcing you down. you drop down, your knees pressing the forest floor. "wanna have ya gaggin', chokin' on it," he teases, stroking your hair as you attentively untie his loincloth. when the skimpy fabric drops to the lush ground, his erection suddenly springs up at your face and you flinch for a second. jake finds this amusing. you part your lips, bringing them to his eager cock. he shudders when your soft tongue makes contact with his tip.

"like it?" you ask, innocently looking up at him while your tongue rhythmically flicks up and down, stimulating him. he tugs on your hair, bucks his hips up, and exhales in an attempt to calm his lust. he mutters little curses under his breath while your tongue slowly licks up his shaft. at this point, he's speaking gibberish while you slobber all over him.

you pull away for a second, taking a deep inhale. jake's cock looks fucking magnificent. throbbing, hard, standing up, and shiny with a coat of your spit. your pupils dilate at the sight and you notice his strong chest- rising and falling with heavy breaths. he stares down at you, waiting for your next move. you open your mouth wide and engulf his dick in your mouth. you move slowly, trying to train yourself to take it all. one day, you hope you'll be able to get your throat all nice and wide so that you can suck jake's cock anytime.

he can't stand how you take your time. he gets so desperate. he needs to just hold your head in place and fuck the shit out of your throat, while your eyes well up with tears and you choke and gag. he can't take it anymore. he roughly entangles his hand in your hair, close to your scalp. he quickly thrusts his hips in and out, destroying the slow pace that you had going. your spit drips down your face and you make little gulping noises. you struggle, feeling like you're unable to breathe as he ruthlessly punishes your mouth.

"gonna give you a sore throat, gonna just- fuck your pretty face 'till you're all covered in my cum," he grunts, watching as your mouth is forced open and saliva drips onto your tits. he watches the way your body moves as he mercilessly thrusts in and out of your tired throat. you can barely think. your mind is cloudy. you simply just wait for him to finish, so that he'll kiss you all over and praise you.

you shouldn't be here. you shouldn't be in the middle of the forest, on your knees while he fucks your face into oblivion. you should've just been hunting with him, that's all. it was supposed to be an innocent hunt with him. so why are you on the ground, tears streaming down your face while he uses you? you don't know, but you're not mad.

"mmm!" muffled, desperate whines leave your mouth as you try your best to breathe through your nose.

"i know, i know babe, i'm almost done," he growls, leaving the taste of warm, bitter precum on your tongue. he ceases his thrusts, the milky liquid spurting out faster and practically suffocating you in the process. short, erratic bursts of pleasure leave jake's load all over your lips and mouth. you make sure to show him before swallowing it. his fingers caress your face and he admires the mess he's made of you. he thinks of how you'll be drinking soup and tea for the next couple days, to alleviate the soreness of your throat. one day, mo'at will figure out why you always need hot drinks after being alone with jake.

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gaysindistress · 16 days

Text

The question that I think never leaves Astarion alone; Will I ever love?

misc masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image gif. found on google/Pinterest

Will I ever love?

It is a question that sits heavy on his mind constantly. It weighs like a meal of stale bread and rotten soup on his heart. It makes him nauseous to think about but still the question is always lurking just beyond his thoughts of blood and revenge. Sometimes it can penetrate the sanguine veil that blocks his inner most thoughts from his bestial urges.

When that question starts to haunt him, he finds peace in you; whether that be your arms, your bed, or simply your presence, he finds peace. It’s usually short lived because the moment you’re gone it comes right back and he’s seeking you out once more.

A part of him thinks that he will find love when you willingly let him slip his fangs deep inside of you. The other part, the one that reminds him far too much of his abuser, tells him that he’s foolish for ever thinking such a thing. No one could look upon this pathetic excuse of a vampire spawn and find love in the cold sarcastic shell of a man that stares back. No one could look into his criminal crimson eyes and find safety in them. No one could allow him to touch them and delight in the biting freeze that comes with. No one could ever love Astarion so why would he ever find it himself?

You know his battles far too well having fought similar ones yourself. You know the torment that he faces when he thinks no one can see. You know the agony that he feels when he comes to you like a whipped dog and meekly asks for your affection. You know the warmth that spreads into his unmoving heart when you smile at him. You know it all because Astarion is a terrible liar and an awful actor. The rogue is good at being convincing, undoubtedly so but it only lasts so long. Maintaining the facade of arrogant noble born elf fails when you show him kindness and respect. When he does slink over to you and attempts to play it off as a promise of a passionate night with your lover, you can only smile at him. Agreeing to see him later, you allow him to maintain his dignity and let the others think that you’re ravenous for each other. You are, make no mistake about that but it is the gentle touches and soft intimacy that fill your nights together. The nights that he feeds from you rarely end in sex anymore but instead with him lying on your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you, and your fingers softly twirling his tousled curls. His eyes are closed, the long lashes tickling your bare skin and his breath comes out in small warm puffs. His nimble fingers flex against your skin, kneading at your back and sides like a content cat. His body is curled around yours, causing your legs to be tangled together and impossible to move. The complete entanglement of you two proves to be what the question desires to cease its grip on his mind.

Will I ever love?

Astarion thinks that he will. With your fingers gently brushing against the edges of his ears and smoothing down his curls, he thinks he might have already found his answer. With your assuring words and sweet whispers of adoration, he thinks he knows the answer if you were to ask him.

“I love you, astarion. Full heartedly and without hesitation, I love you,” you murmur into his silver strands when you think he’s finally fallen asleep. The only give away that he’s not is the way a small smile pulls on his lips when he nuzzles into you.

#astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion imagine #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion fic #astarion #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav

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ravengards-rogue · 3 months

Text

✧ barbarian + gender neutral tav, bottom/sub gale, top + dom!tav, gutting a fish, horny to horny tadpole communication lol 18+

gale daydreams too long about the rough callouses on your hands on his skin.

you answer him in short sentences when he mentions them but he's come to realize this isn't disinterest. you just aren't one for talking much, and you listen to him intently. occasionally you'll remember something entirely arbitrary he's told you - and he'll feel his heart stammer like a boy in love and not a man of middle age.

he notices your hands first when he tries teaching you the weave. the times after, you're healing him because he's been battered relentlessly in battle. calloused hands - the kind of hands that wield weapons and massacre. gale has seen you rage so often, though he's never thought anything of it. you're polar opposites in all aspects but especially that kind of raw power.

(the story of them goes that you used to tussle with bears as a child. when asked to elaborate, you shrug passively. apparently all that matters is that you won more often than you lost.)

he likes your hands. your hands are calloused and scarred. all of you is scarred, but your hands especially. split knuckles and thick, coarse skin that's been split and healed with nothing but time. strong, capable hands that carry fresh hunt into the camp and butcher them close to the water so the blood can be washed away. his are soft and smooth, a calm life in the vibrant and advanced city of waterdeep has made them so. the most violence he's ever received until recently, a paper cut from an especially feisty tome.

gale spends too long looking at them. you notice his gaze, naturally perceptive. and gale - well gale flushes. he's leering, and his thoughts are all but appropriate.

he's not prone to shyness. but you're a little different from those he kept in his past. constructed with that sort of unfamiliar grit makes his stomach churn with desire that burns white hot. gods.

it's inappropriate - entirely. together at camp with a makeshift table and cutting board (a slab of wood, really). you're cooking together, and gale is watching you gut a fish. your fingers are soaked in blood as you carefully scale and clean skin. there's also a fresh body you've so morbidly carried for astarion to eat.

you glance at him, head tilted - brow taut with interest.

"something on your mind, wizard?"

"not particularly," he replies, trying to avert his gaze. you go back to your task, the barest amusement on your face.

"you're a shit liar." and then, as if you sense that you can't pull more out of him - he feels something electric brush against his spine. the tadpole, your tadpole. you reach out to him through it. the voice in your mind is entangles with his as he allows you to touch his thoughts. you never do so without being careful.

it's...oddly euphoric, makes his stomach feel honeyed with lust. a harsh way of speech coupled by a soft whisper. stop being lewd or you'll cook yourself on a flame.

it's an instant protest, though between you is only silence.

"lewd?" he says in a whisper yell. you don't reply to his exclaiming. nor do you mask your amusement. you're enjoying this. your hands make quick work of flaying the dead sea creature. the head goes into the soup. you dunk the bloodied carcass in water leaving delicate white fish behind, then you use a dagger to carve the bones from it.

the blood stains your fingers. even with the savagery you're always committing, your delicate with the flesh.

you press into his mind, a knowing glance at the way his eyes lock onto the gesture.

gale is hesitant to let you in again. you shrug.

"even if you don't want to tell me what ways you want me to fuck you," you say, low enough so that only gale hears it. "well. you're a bit of a lost cause on hiding it."

gale is so momentarily scandalized he just stops. a smile tugs at your lips as you look at him more directly this time. heat licks at his his calves, a little ashamed as he lets you in.

(the images conjured in his mind are imperfect but vivid. all of them terribly rough. his mind desires it more than his body, to feel the roguish warmth of your palms handle his limbs in ways so untender some gods would consider it against them. a harsh first around his cock or around his throat, thumbs pressing into pulsing heart. hardened touches rounded with tender praise.

fingers inside of him. gale laid out over your lap - tucked into you in some completely vulnerable way.

there's a single undercurrent desire, one for you make a mess of him and it's louder and more attention seeking than all the rest. the need to be under your thumb makes his cock twitch so hard it's painful.

he imagines himself spent in your arms, cumming helplessly. limp against the strength of your chest and arms. the thought makes his physical body shiver.

the idea lingers so deep in the recesses of his mind he wonders if they're being projected right.)

he severs the connection when the embarrassment catches up to him, waiting anxiously for whatever thing you might end up saying. there's a smirk on your face, a salacious little chuckle as you discard bones into a metal bowl fashioned on the slab you cut on. for an elongated moment, you're unreactive. it's so strange gale wonders if he might've conjured up the entire interaction.

you walk yourself around him to put something in the pot - fresh cuts of white meat, before you blow warm air against the back of his neck. he nearly jumps out of his skin.

your words are assured.

"didn't take you for a masochist," you hum, calloused palm underneath the velvet of his nightwear. he looks at you over his shoulder. you make it clear you mean every word of what you'll say. "but i'll fuck you however you wish, lewd wizard. try to focus on dinner for now instead of ogling."

with your task now finished, you place a single long kiss on the nape of gales neck before disappearing completely - slinking off into the night to wash your hands. gale feels blood rush between his legs as he clears his throat.

he grumbles as he waddles over to stir the pot, skin painted with pink and feeling no less horny than before. "easier said then done."

#zero.thoughts #d.rogues love letters #sharess' whisper #gale x reader #bg3 x reader #he deserves to be topped and bullied but i say this about all men i like #but especially especially gale #i spent way too fucking long on this lmaoo #i have an important test in 5 hours i havent studied for at all dfkjfdkj

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art-of-mathematics · 1 year

Text

I brewed Torus soup.

I would advice to eat the torus soup only with your eyes and to enjoy the delicious meal solely in your mind, so its full flavour spectrum of mental bullshittery can unfold itself and entangle your brain further (instead of fucking up your digestive tract by eating it orally/literally).

//joking

[ID: a bowl filled with colorful hair ties with an attached sign, reading: "yummy TORUS SOUP - liquid ingredient not included - (cursive) add liquid ingredient with your imagination."]

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astroels · 1 year

Text

Ellie's love language

headcannons

A/n: These are just little thoughts, since Ellie seems to consume the entirety of my mind nowadays :))

Physical Touch

While watching any movie, Ellie will always make sure to be touching you. It'll come in forms of playing with your hair, grazing her hands or fingers against your skin endlessly, which leaves a nice tingly feeling of your lover's presence, and kisses every so often. You're right there, but she'll hold you like it's the first time, always appreciating you, making sure you know with her touches.

When you're sleeping, it'll usually begin with cuddling of some sort, with her always moving towards you if you move. Not holding you while sleeping makes her feel nervous, as she's scared to lose you. If she feels like you'll wake up from her movements, she'll make do with the slightest touch of draping her arm on you or entangling her legs with yours.

Even if she's not too touchy in public, she'll always hold your hands while walking through crowds or at diners. Knowing you're right there, and she's right there, comforts both of your anxietys about being around many people.

Ellie would be so impatient if you're right there, and she knew she shouldn't be too clingy. The temptation always gives in while you cook, she'd grab you from behind, whispering sweet nothings and leaving you kisses. This applies to any chores you do around the house, leaving you with just giggles and forms of reassurance to give back.

Whenever she knows you've had a hard day, she'd offer massages or soothing movements, knowing it helps you and brings her the joy of touching you. She likes the fact you'll be relaxed due to her own pleasure.

Quality time

If you decide to shower alone, you know you'll be greeted with Ellie sitting on the toilet seat telling you all about her day. She cannot stand to be apart from you, so this is obviously the best option for her. She'd go on about people at her work, the things she speculates, her rants about her interests and any sort of silly thought that crosses her mind.

Even if she dislikes going to parties, She knows that atleast she'll be with you. Just seated right next to you while you talk to everyone is enough for her. Ellie just adores you and would look at each of your features, wondering how you ever chose to love her.

If week schedules were to ever get hectic where you haven't had time to spend together, she'd plan little at-home dates for the both of you. A movie that you've been dieing to watch or baking together (even if you're doing all the baking.)

Knowing that you'd always be down to hear about her stories from the comics she read, she goes to the bookstore weekly to get the latest volume just to have a talk with you afterwards. The talks can last hours, and thats the best part of finishing each volume to her.

Ellie likes to know you rest well, so sometimes she'll sing you to sleep. There with you, she'd hold you and stay till you're sound asleep. She likes when you look at peace and that you're there with her.

Acts of service

Since Ellie tends to be more of an early riser compared to you, she always has your coffee or tea prepared in the morning. She'd wake you and have your drink at ready to give you. This always makes your morning with such a thoughtful girlfriend.

Whenever you catch a cold or feel ill, Ellie sticks beside you, offering soups, medicine, sueros, anything you might need. She takes on the household chores, so you dont have to worry and get up.

Ellie would spend months saving up just to take you to that concert or show you've been talking about for ages. In a box with flowers, she'd surprise you with the tickets, just to see how happy you are with them.

With you always asking Ellie about music, She'd spend days burning songs into a CD to decorate and give to you. It'd be personalized to your interests, with maybe a few songs that'd you two would dance to together.

Any time you mention aches that sound like your period is coming, Ellie would stock up on your favorite snacks and have relaxers in hand. She makes sure to be extra gentle and caring to lessen the stress following your period.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #tlou part ii #the last of us 2 #elliesstar #tlou 2 #ellie x you #tlou ellie

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echobx · 7 hours

Note

Rafe and reader, she has bad cramps and he tries to help by running her a bath and massaging her uterus. Major Fluff please

author's note: I'm so hoping this is fluffy enough even though I added some tiny tiny smutty bits •~• it's a really short blurb but I hope you like it anyway

warnings: cockwarming (unprotected), other than that it's pure fluff

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“Rafe?” you ask, your body soaking in the hot water as you look up at him through teary eyes.

“Yes?” he turns back around, a concerned look on his face.

“Please stay. Don't leave,” you whisper and he steps from one foot onto the other, thinking before coming back over to the tub. Kneeling down he traces your nose and smiles softly.

“Where do you need me, love?” His voice is deep and almost seductive, but you know he just does it to sooth you, to calm you down.

“Here,” you claw at your stomach. The steaming hot water was helping with the cramps, but it wasn't doing enough.

He undresses before you, taking his time and watching you bite your lip and a faint smile playing on your lips. You still can't believe that he's with you, that he chose you of all the girls he could have.

“In front or behind?” he asks and you point at the space in front of you. “Fuck,” he hisses as he places his left foot in the water. “You’re boiling in there, babe, like, chicken soup.”

“I'm not a chicken in soup,” you pout and he steps in fully.

“This will impact future generations of Camerons,” he sighs and sits down, hissing quietly until he's fully emerged and has grown accustomed to the heat.

“Those future generations will be fine,” you giggle and move closer to him, sitting down on his thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You think so?” he smiles and rubs his hands over your hips.

“M-hmm,” you humm and lean your head against his.

“Does this feel better?” Rafe asks with a soft voice. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on your lower stomach.

“Yes, thank you,” you sigh into him, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“I heard sex helps with cramps,” he whispers in your ear and you pull away to look into his blue eyes.

“Not happening, Cameron,” you shake your head no.

“So you rather have bad cramps than use me? By all means,” he feigned innocence.

“You're unbelievable,” you laugh and he kisses your lips again and again.

“I'm your impossible, baby,” Rafe whispers against your lips, bringing you in closer and kissing you deeply. His long, breathtaking, toe curling kisses cloud your mind, and suddenly you can't even remember why you are in the tub. He has successfully rewired your brain yet again and this time he needed nothing more than to kiss you for it.

“Maybe,” you mumble, kissing him again and slipping your hand down to grasp his hard dick. You lift your hips just enough to let him slip into you and let yourself sink down again. The feeling of his hard cock filling you out is numbing the pain even more than the kisses and hot water, and it makes no sense to you, but you like it.

“Told you,” Rafe smiles and kisses you again. It's a long bath, full of kisses and gentle rolls of your hips.

The water went cold long ago when you're still in the tub, completely entangled and Rafe is whispering sweet nothings to you, holding onto you and making sure you're the most comfortable you've ever been. He makes you cum with soft touches and loving kisses to your lips, neck and temple.

It's the most intimate he's ever been with you, slow and gentle and only caring what you need. He makes you feel a million times better than you have ever felt, even when you don't have to deal with your debilitating cramps.

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#obx #~prompt #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #fluff #my writing #~blurb #~ask

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nyoomfruits · 8 months

Note

Ooh, 'Don't tell the others, but I love your cooking the most.' for Max/Charles/Lando/Oscar? (This is of course fiction, but I also find it amusing in real life, Oscar seems like the only one of the four who can actually cook unaided, in case you want to do anything with that 😄)

HIVE MIND HIVE MIND HIVE MIND (pt. 2)

“Don't tell the others, but I love your cooking the most.”

It’s taking some getting used to, this new dynamic between them, which is why when Max asks, “What do we want to do for dinner?” Oscar gladly raises his hand and says, “I’ll go cook,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

It’s not that he’s hiding, per se, but it was just him and Lando for so long, and now its him and Lando and Charles and Max, and sometimes it just feels a bit overwhelming, is all. The other three are well them, and they’ve have known each other for forever, have been racing against each other even longer. Oscar just struggles with his place in all of it, sometimes.

But cooking, cooking he can do. He manages to gather some ingredients together, enough for a simple pasta, and starts prepping them, cutting onions and garlic and bell peppers. From the kitchen, the sounds of Lando and Max yelling filter in, no doubt entangled in a game of FIFA.

He’s just put a pan on the heat and put some oil in, when Charles appears in the doorway, smiling softly. “Smells good.”

“Thanks,” Oscar says. “Though remind me to do some groceries tomorrow. The fridge is woefully understocked.”

Charles snorts, makes his way further into the kitchen. “Well, that’s Max for you. I’m surprised you managed to find what you did,” he says, and suddenly he’s behind Oscar, wrapping his arms around Oscar’s waist and hooking his chin over Oscar’s shoulder. “Thanks, for sacrificing yourself to make us food, by the way. Don’t tell the others, but I love your cooking the most.”

Oscar laughs a little, turns his head to press a soft kiss against Charles’s temple. “Thanks. Although I’m not sure how high that praise really is when I’m up against a guy who only knows how to heat up prepackaged soup and a guy who could burn water.”

It’s Charles’s turn to laugh, and he presses a kiss to Oscar’s shoulder before he steps back. “That’s fair. But you know. Just so you know your efforts are appreciated.”

“Thank you,” Oscar says, smiling genuinely, as he puts the pasta in the pot of boiling water.

He expects Charles to leave, then, but instead Charles hoists himself up onto one of the empty counters, and leans back against the overhead cabinets. “How did the new training regime go, by the way? Your trainer put you on a new plan, right?” He asks, as he watches Oscar move around the kitchen.

So they make small talk while Oscar cooks, the sounds of Lando and Max destroying each other in FIFA filtering in through the open door. And it’s nice, having a little moment with just Charles, when it so often is all four of them together.

Eventually they do get broken out of their little bubble by Max and Lando, who follow the smell of onions frying into the pan and then stay in the kitchen as well, all four of them hanging out together while Oscar finishes up their food.

They eat on the couch, tangled together in a heap of limbs. Lando proposes marriage to Oscar a total of five times, Max wonders if he can hire him as his personal chef, and Charles gives him this small, almost knowing smile over the tops of their heads.

So yeah, it’s hard, navigating this new relationship where it’s three other people instead of one. But Oscar’s pretty sure they can work it out. Together.

#tried to include as much of the requests as possible #the established lestappen and landoscar is v background but i hope this is what y'all were looking for!!!#drabble #norverstapstri

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daisychainsandbowties · 10 months

Text

thinking a normal amount about a treasure planet au. Beatrice on her solar kiteboard, doing the daredevil flip sequence framed against the setting sun and then getting hauled kicking and screaming back to her parents’ house in manacles with a defiant expression on her perpetually dirt-smudged face.

climbing out the window at the first opportunity to go down to the dockside inn, making nebulous plans to steal her kiteboard back but ending up down at the edge of the dock staring past her boots and into the mists. gripping tight to the wood beneath her as she looks up at the sky and dreams of anywhere but here, of stealing a skiff to get off this planet. a reluctant twinge at the thought of going alone.

Bea with all her star maps and her intricate knowledge of spaceships and their solar sails and how to navigate out there where the artigrav net is all that stands between you and floating through nothing, forever.

startling when she hears the familiar sound of someone booking it down the pier on wooden crutches. night has already started to speckle the sky above, and as she listens to the thunk of the crutches on the pier, Bea thinks of the complicated metallic lattice she has on her desk at home, partly disassembled because she’s still trying to work out parts of the engineering. Ava’s birthday is in a month.

she has to stay that long, and then she’ll leave. she will.

turning to watch as Ava races towards her with soup stains on her shirt and messy hair jammed flat beneath a ‘pirate’ hat she bought off of a traveling salesman last year. the tricorn wobbles precariously on her head as she moves. Beatrice just waits, a slight smile on her face.

there are bruises high on each of her arms, from the pincer-like grip of the police bots, manhandling her away from her kiteboard to snap manacles around each wrist.

she rubs at the skin there, but ignores the bruises.

when Ava arrives, a little out of breath, Beatrice holds up a hand so she can help herself down onto the pier. there’s no water beneath them, only a few hundred meters of empty air and curling mist.

Ava keeps one hand on Bea’s and the other on her shoulder, letting the crutches clatter down between them as she sits.

“Mom says you got arrested again,” Ava says cheerfully. “She says they’re threatening to send you to prison.”

Beatrice shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind it, so long as my parents did not visit.”

Ava’s fingers are covered in bright red band-aids, from chopping vegetables all day with her poor hand dexterity. Beatrice watches the colours blur as Ava punches her in the arm, right on the bruises. “Liar, I know you’d miss me.”

her arm throbs painfully, but Beatrice’s expression is carefully neutral as she responds.

“I might.”

she stays with Ava that night, both of them reading her old book with its floating images of ships and canons and pirates leaping from vessel to vessel. Captain Flint, materialising out of empty space to steal away gems and gold, “the loot of a thousand worlds.” Ava traces the projected lines of the solar sails with her fingers as they flicker into being.

Beatrice has repaired the book over and over, making the colours brighter and sharper. the tiny shapes of pirates all made up of light. Ava has the book open on Bea’s chest as she lies next to her, legs all entangled in the sheets they’ve kicked off because the night is so warm.

she seems oblivious to how Beatrice’s breath hitches at almost every touch.

they’re almost asleep when they hear the explosion, a ship crashing into the cliff-side, tumbling over and over before they hear the pop and hiss of heated metal. a bloom of smoke outside the window.

Beatrice gives Ava a piggyback ride down the stairs just before Ava’s ‘mom’, Suzanne, emerges with her pulse-rifle primed, hair loose around her shoulders.

they stumble into the yard and discover a pirate, a robot, still bleeding from a wound in his abdomen, crawling from the wreck of his ship. Beatrice heaves a shard of twisted metal away from him and finds the surface slippery with blood.

behind her, Ava sways a little, shivers in the cold air, but she’s still standing when Beatrice turns back to her.

the dying pirate tells them almost nothing useful. he’s half-mad, cluching at Beatrice’s shirt until the seams tear at the collar, then turning to Ava. he fetches out a lockbox from his ship, blood spilling onto the ground at the movement. unlocks it and takes odd sphere from inside.

it drops into Ava’s palm as he rasps, “Whatever you do, don’t let them find it.”

then he wheezes, shudders, stills.

they stare at him, Ava’s free hand finding Bea’s, holding tight.

“Is he… dead?” Ava’s voice in the silence and the dark.

“I think so.”

then, in a burst of light and sound, in a shockwave of displaced air, a ship plummets down out of the clouds, pulling up an instant from the ground.

this second ship looms down out of the sky, pirates dropping from it and suddenly Suzanne is screaming at them to “GET INSIDE” from an upstairs window as she takes potshots at the misshapen shapes swarming down lines of hempen rope.

the air lights up with orange and yellow as explosions ripple down towards the crashed ship, towards the inn. Bea flings one of Ava’s arms around her neck and sprints for the door, Ava holding the sphere (or map?) tightly against her chest.

she sets Ava down gently onto one of the bar stools, runs back to barricade the door. her face is flushed, streaked somehow with engine grease and robot blood, which is black and slightly acidic.

they exchange a wide-eyed look, too much meaning in it to parse as explosions rock the floor. Ava has both hands clutched around the sphere.

they both almost scream as Suzanne runs down the stairs in a blur of dressing gown and gun. she has Ava’s crutches in one hand and her rifle in the other. she kisses Ava quickly on the forehead, “Thank the tides you’re safe.” leaves her with the crutches and then goes to fetch an ancient-looking blaster pistol out from behind the bar, presses it into Beatrice’s hands. “You know how to use this?”

“No!”

“Aim it away from your own face.”

and then there are pirates all around the house, glass breaking and fire crackling. Beatrice takes up the rear, pistol pointed at the front door as it bulges under the pressure of pirates flinging their bulk into it again and again.

they climb out of a window, Suzanne producing a kitchen knife and jamming it into the neck of a pirate loitering uncertainly outside the bolted shutters. there, covered by a tarp, is Suzanne’s old motorcycle with a sidecar attached. lantern-bugs scatter out from under it as Suzanne throws the old tarp away, gestures for Beatrice and Ava to climb in as she covers them with her rifle.

there’s a roar from somewhere in the dark and Suzanne fires a shot, hops onto the motorcycle and revs the engine. then they’re moving, pirates parting before them like the ocean neither of them have ever seen, the vast bodies of water that don’t even exist on this planet.

they seek refuge with Jillian, an archaeologist who frequents the old inn, claiming that she can’t make her coffee taste of anything but soap. she examines the orb, reluctantly passed into her hands by Ava, her and Bea wrapped in an old blanket, sitting by the fire in Jillian’s immense study.

Jillian fiddles with it for an age before sighing, looking almost angry with herself.

“I can’t… seem to make this work.”

Ava holds out her hand, silent. “let me try,” and Beatrice makes a face at Jillian when she hesitates.

the pirate gave the sphere to Ava; it’s hers.

it seems much larger in Ava’s small grip. she looks down at it for a while before her fingers start to move, slow but gathering momentum as she presses the little grooves and switches and indents on the sphere.

until it lights up, showing a map of the known universe, and parts of it that are unknown.

“Is that-” Beatrice feels her words drop away, like the ground beneath the pier where she has passed so many hours sitting with Ava’s hand in hers.

Ava turns to Beatrice, eyes bright as a pair of stars, “It’s treasure planet.”

#treasure planet au #warrior nun #avatrice #and yeah what about cyborg shannon & mary her first mate and their (pirate) spaceship/ literally just an 18th century frigate #thinking of shannon growing increasingly fond of beatrice who helps her with her star charts and the calculations for navigating space #both of them of course planning their betrayal but looking at these two girls slowly realising they're in love #furious conversations in the captain's cabin and lilith up in the crows nest half the time. cam pestering her with tea #🥹🥹 ava with morph the little pink blob who sure yeah belongs to shannon but hangs out 'spying' on mary in the kitchen #i just think ava and bea should run away and accidentally join a pirate crew together #it'll be fun (i say remembering the Black Hole Incident)#anyway maybe i will write this idk

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pasdasin · 3 months

Text

Entanglement ch 4

levi x reader

summary: Levi is so downbad for y/n!

cw: low key angst at the end, cussing, bad grammar lol, etc

a/n: sorry for the late update, midterm season is rough! I hope y’all enjoy

read below the cut

previous — next

“You’re still working for him?” Levi questioned you as more of his companions filed back into the living room.

“He pays good, I don’t have a choice.” You removed yourself from his grip and then headed towards the front door. “I have to buy more food since I didn’t expect you all to be here. I’ll be back later,” With that you walked out the front door. A moment passed before Levi turned to head to the kitchen table. The rest of the squad continued to set up camp and get comfortable. “Captain who is she?” Eren asked cirquously. “I mean we are in her house and these pictures-”

“Shut it Eren.” Levi growled before moving into the kitchen, surprised to find his favorite tea in your cabinet. As he brewed the tea, he could hear his squad theorize about you and your relationship to Levi. He rolled his eyes before the door opened and you walked in. The “groceries” in your hands seemed like much more than he could remember ever being brought in by you in the past. You placed them on the counter top and wordlessly put them away. Levi looked at your bags and instantly recognized the soup you planned to make.

“How can you afford bacon?”He asked quietly.

“I’m a valuable asset to Conrad.” You muttered back to him. Soon the both of you cooked the dinner just as you had in the past. Closing your eyes for a second, you could almost feel the presence of Isabel and Farlan. You could almost feel the ghost of Levi’s arms around you…

Soon you set out everyone’s food and called them to dinner. Levi’s squad hesitantly took the food but only ate after seeing Levi start his own plate. The soup was probably the best food they ever had. After a silent dinner, the squad took it upon themselves to clean up and start watch shifts. You and Levi had decided to return to your old room.

Levi shut the door behind you as you sat at your makeshift vanity. Grabbing a brush, you began your process to get ready for bed. Wordlessly Levi sat on the bed watching you, a flood of memories hit him like a bag of bricks

---

Levi sat on the bed in only his sleep pants, you in his sleep shirt. The room was only lit by a singular oil lamp near your vanity. He got up and grabbed the brush out of your hands. He began to brush your hair out as you started to remove the little makeup you could afford. Humming a soft melody in the process.

“When we live above around, I’ll be able to wear more than just this lipstick and this mascara. Won’t I?” Levi hummed in agreement before placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I don’t like that you work in that horrible place.”

“I know, but at this rate I’ll afford citizenship for all of us! Soon it’ll all be over.” You turned to face him and held his hand tenderly.

---

“Why didn’t you get your citizenship?” Levi asked after a while.

“After I was told you all had died, I didn’t find a reason for it anymore. I was wanted here, not up there.” You said softly, turning to face him again. “Why did you leave me here?”

Levi was silent for a second. “When I heard you died, I lost all hope. I couldn’t even force myself to look… it was better to be ignorant than face to truth.” He turned his head to face you when there was a knock at your door. Levi got up to open it and saw Armin followed by Hange and Erwin.

“We might have gotten a lead”

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi aot #levi x reader

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