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the-record · 9 months

Text

lacy.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

synopsis: abby and angel through pictures

pairing: musician!abby x reader

warnings: none!

a/n: super simple no plot just cuties, will have smthn else soon!

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Lacy, oh, Lacy, skin like puff pastry Aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of Hell? Dear angel Lacy, eyes white as daisies Did I ever tell you that I'm not doin' well?

yourinstagram

yourinstagram soft launch lmao. 💌

tagged:

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elliewilliams WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

dina_nolastname ayo. now who tf r u cheating on me with

↳ yourinstagram ur mom.

jessesucks 🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀

↳ elliewilliams go away.

↳ dina_nolastname ………………………………

↳ yourinstagram 😸😸

Ooh, I care, I care, I care Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time Watching, hidden in plain sight And ooh, I try, I try, I try But it takes over my life, I see you everywhere The sweetest torture one could bear

a_anderson

a_anderson hmm….

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mannynotnanny Abigail. Where is that hand going.

↳ a_anderson NUH UH DONT U START

mrs.anderson NOOOOOOOOO

yourinstagram god dont u just love girls who can play guitar 🤭🤭

user19163897 WE LOST HER

abbyabbyabby 🤨

↳ a_anderson yall make me cray

mel.melon gag worthy

↳ a_anderson ur babys ugly

↳ mannynotnanny LMAOOO

↳ mel.melon bye 😭

elliewilliams IS GHAT ANGEL THQY FHE FIZO

absgirl this is fhe worst day of my life.

abigailsgf 🪟🏃‍♀️

Smart, sexy Lacy, I’m losin’ it lately I feel your compliments like bullets on skin Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist?

yourinstagram

yourinstagram my beautiful girl. i love u abs 🫶

tagged: a_anderson

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a_anderson my angel girl🤍🤍🤍

jessesucks if u look closely, you can see me sobbing in angels hood

↳ yourinstagram LMAOOO

elliewilliams i ahte i two sm liefearly gobawau

↳ yourinstagram @dina_nolastname come get ur gf.

dina_nolastname 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

a_anderson

a_anderson we r the people u hate.

tagged: yourusername

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mannynotnanny …Sigh…

user2089392 idk who i wanna be more

↳ a_anderson NEITHER. were BOTH. taken.

↳ yourusername shes so dreamy

yourusername 🫶🫶🫶

mel.melon yall r so cute tho

user8372983 bring angel on tour ⁉️⁉️

mrs.anderson can i get ur gfs number

↳ a_anderson Sure! It’s 222-SHES-TAKEN

absgirl SOBBING

Oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh, oh Oh, oh, oh

yourinstagram

yourinstagram 2 years = cat. love you baby 🐱

tagged: a_anderson

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a_anderson fur baby

elliewilliams AND U NAMED IT WHAT

↳ yourinstagram gracie 🤍

dina_nolastname mama y mama

mrs.anderson the cutest

↳ yourinstagram 🫶

jessesucks uncle jesse

Lacy, oh, Lacy, it's like you're out to get me You poison every little thing that I do Lacy, oh, Lacy, I just loathe you lately And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

a_anderson

a_anderson the things u do to me. i love you so much my angel. thank you for these past years, i cant wait to spend the rest of mine along side you. my girl 🫶

tagged: yourinstagram

comments have been limited…

yourinstagram 💍🥱

↳ a_anderson ONLY U LMAO

yourinstagram LESBIAN HANDS LESBIAN HANDS LESBIAN HANDS

↳ a_anderson she only wants my body 😔

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #abby x reader #🎵 smau 🎵

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callme-holly · 3 months

Note

hi i saw you were doing requests, can i request a dallas winston x an extremely musical reader? like plays all sorts of instruments, piano, guitar, you name it, reader can probably try their hand at it and play it.

thank you sm, and i love ur writing <3

𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 "𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - damn this took me so long to get to I am so sorry. I was meant to post some stuff yesterday but everything went kinda crazy bc I was coughing up blood and shit so yay!! Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy this and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 242 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none!!

He'd brag about you all the time like once he gets going, he nver shuts up.

If someone starts up a conversation about music, you best believe this man is bring you into it somehow.

"You can play piano? That's cool, man, but I bet you're not as good as my partner."

Please teach him everything you know.

I imagine once you tried to teach him how to play the guitar but after a few hours he got frustrated and quit (I've done this exact thing).

He thinks you're so much better than every other musician. Like Elvis Presley? The Beatles? They ain't got nothing on you, doll.

If you want to try your hand at something new, just let him know, he'll go to the nearest music store and get it for you. (Just don't expect it to be paid for)

When he first heard you play an instrument he was in awe.

He couldn't have fallen more in love with you if he tried.

The gang also use you as their personal jukebox. You've played their favourite songs at least 50 times each but, hey, at least they're happy.

You can talk to him for hours about music. Sure, he won't know what you're on about half the time, nor will he be 100% focused, but it's the thought that counts.

Needless to say, Dallas Winston is obsessed with you and thinks you are the coolest person to ever exist.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders headcanons #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dally winston #dallas winston headcanons

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dearharriet · 2 months

Note

could I request the tangled prompt for george, please? 😚

and congratulations on 150!!! 🎉

here u are lovely, thank you sm!! (wc: 870)

George is not used to this whole heart in his chest thing, and it’s really dragging down his name as an enemy of the crown.

I mean, sure, that’s not something he can just put away—and the palace guards certainly won’t—but he almost wishes he could. Which is stupid, obviously George loves being a criminal—who doesn’t?

But the thing is, you’re kind of more than he’d been expecting. George thought you were naive, and jumpier than a field mouse, and you are, but you’re also kind when you want to be, and similarly cutthroat when necessary. You’re not half bad.

Like now, in the square, you’re helping an older group of women with their knitting patterns. George had ordered you to lay low, but he realizes now how foolish that is. It doesn’t matter how low you lay, everyone would be looking at you anyways. You’re just magnetic that way.

Leaving the chittering group, you pass over the wide open square, eyes on a shady alcove at the other end. George ducks further into the overhang, skirting around columns to meet you there.

Even if you’re not seeking him out, he’s glad you’re getting some shade. The mid-year sun is penetrating every thick stone building in the kingdom, and turning the ground into a coal walk for your bare feet.

And anyways, when the sun and you meet head-on, it’s a spectacle that’s hard to look at.

Rounding the corner, George stops short, realizing you’re not as alone as he thought.

You’re crouched, hair fanning over your shoulders, speaking with a small boy who looks very unfortunate. There’s dirt covering his face, and his feet are similar to yours in that they’re unprotected. He can’t be more than ten, but instead of playing in the sun like most children, he’s slumped against the wall, looking tired.

George’s newfound heart thumps a little, shocking his system. He steps forward, but then you’re standing, pulling the boy up with you.

Weaving through carts and wagons, you lead the boy into the center of the square, and then skitter away to a quartet of musicians.

The little boy looks like he’s treading open water, spinning in the wake of your attention. When you come back, you take his shaking hands into yours as a song begins to play.

Then you’re dancing.

With the height difference it’s nothing more than a flailing spin, but with every rotation both your face and the boy’s light with joy.

Two couples join in, and George ventures out of his hiding spot to get a better view. As he passes vendors and shoppers, he notices them uprooting themselves, pushing toward you the way he is.

Many of them join, and when George is on the bank of the whirling circle of townspeople he can’t see you anymore. The dance has quickly evolved into a more complex braid of partners, one that everyone but him seems to understand.

A part of him worries that you were taken, but a flash of gold cuts through the mesh of feet, and his shoulders settle.

The partners change fast, so one second your elbows are linked with an older man, and the next you’re swinging into a young girl. It goes this way down the chain, changing all at once like a flower that blooms new every minute, and you keep your eyes on George the whole time.

When you reach him, you stick one hand out and yank him into the fray.

George stumbles and then catches himself on a stranger who kindly guides him into the proper spin. Luckily, he’d been watching long enough to know when to switch, pinging from one partner to the next as bystanders clap to the beat.

When he’s rounded the full circle, the music changes, and everyone finds a new direction.

Though he probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, George understands why you and the boy had looked so happy. As he swings through smithys and students and artists, touching each hand briefly in this hurdling dance, he’s undeniably alive.

He thought that stealing the crown was the fastest his heart would ever beat, but he might have been wrong. Running away was easy, but coming back? Near impossible.

Without him even realizing, George is finally dancing with you. It felt like every time he’d completed the circle and come to you, the music had changed and you’d miss each other.

But now, you’re under his hands, and when the music changes, you tighten yours around his. The chain breaks, and no one seems to mind. George suspects it was all your making anyways, so this time is no different.

Around and around you spin under the summer sun, and George tugs you closer, his feet doing the work for both of you. He doesn’t have to think, he just turns and turns and lifts you, revels in your delighted laugh. He shocks himself with his returning laugh—not snide nor attractive, but truly overjoyed.

When you land on your feet, the music comes to an end, and George and you are still laughing. Both of your chests meet with each huff, swelling with air and pride.

George knows it’s not about the crown anymore.

thank you for reading xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

#harriet’s 150 celebration #george weasley #george weasley x fem #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley drabble #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter #request

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praisethesuuun · 1 year

Note

Hello! First of all I hope you're having a great day! 🤍🤍✨️ and second of all: I was wondering if I could please request maybe Jack the Ripper slow dancing with his S/O? Like aaa that makes me soft, thank you sm sm, stay awesome! 🤍

Awww thank you, my dear😭❤️ I hope you like it, sorry if I'm a little late eheh

Jack The Ripper x fem!reader: the melody that unleashes me

Type: fluff

Warnings: none

Many say beauty is subjective, a mirror of what our emotions reflect in an endless sea of adjectives and tastes. But was it really like that? This question grips philosophers of all ages, the artists most devoted to the Muses and the most skilled musicians.

For you, true beauty sat right in the chair opposite yours. His bright eyes perused the crumpled newspaper in front of him, while a light breeze ruffled his hair. "You're staring" he spoke softly, distracting himself from his reading. Your face immediately turned red, so much that it could match the eye that was so scrupulously hidden with the buttonhole. "Sorry, my dear. I just couldn't help it"

You rested your face in the palm of your hand, watching the London streets and the masses of people pouring into the shops. Jack sipped his hot tea, a drink he had grown to love since he was a child: it relaxed him.

The peace you felt when you were with your husband was a state of mind you had come to appreciate. Given his second life, Jack thought you'd leave him on the spot in the blink of an eye, how could he imagine you'd stay by his side?

His heart burst with joy every time the thought came to mind. His soul stained with dark blood had found a welcome in the wings of a pure angel.

Because that's who you were, his angel: Jack saw you as his salvation, a sort of light at the end of that dark and narrow tunnel resembling his life; you had accepted him for who he was and his darkest and most intimate side, Jack loved you.

"You look thoughtful, my love" the man said, swallowing his last mouthful of apple pie. Your head lifted, your attention shifted back to him; your (e/c) eyes widened slightly, full of curiosity.

"Oh, I was listening to that street musician"

In fact, right next to the fountain in the square, sitting on some dirty steps, violin in hand and case lying on the ground. A few people had stopped to listen, yet that small audience was not at all up to the boy's abilities.

His fingers moved deftly between the strings, making them vibrate, while the bow caressed them softly and masterfully. His melody was not lively, like theater artists, but slow, sweet, as if his intent was to lull the souls of the listeners. "He looks poor..." said Jack, looking at the musician, a sad look on his eyes. "Let's go help him, then!"

Your husband didn't even have time to reply that you had already risen from your chair, marching towards your goal. "Wait for me, darling!"

....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

"Hello!"

The boy opened his eyes and stopped, observing the beauty that he had suddenly found himself in front of. Your figure radiated happiness, strong emotions, radiance; your smile was sweet, but energetic at the same time, illuminating his artist's heart. "Hi..." he stammered shyly and with the hint of a smile.

"Could you please play something romantic? Any tune will do" you said, tossing pounds into the violin case, jingling along with the other pennies. "I'm sorry for my wife, but when she hears good music she doesn't understand anything anymore!"

The violinist's attention was captured by the man behind the energetic damsel, he had a kind smile and had his shoulders covered by a long jacket.

"Come on Jack, the boy is nice enough to play us something" the other spoke again, extending a hand towards him and inviting him to join her. "Alright, my rose"

The young boy was about to start the piece again, closing his eyes softly and letting himself be carried away by the spirit of the music, but these reopened instantly when he heard the sound of more coins falling into what was his pot of gold. "But, sir! His wife..."

His words were cut short by a sly look from Jack, who gave him a wink. The violinist's heart was filled with joy: those people were kind enough to pay him twice - and even well enough - for just one song; with that money he would be able to buy food for a while. She blushed with happiness, her eyes filled with tears; he flashed a smile comparable to that of a thousand suns and, with the hand of the goddess Joy to guide him, he did what he knew you do best, play.

....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

Jack's right hand rested softly on your side, while the other took your hand, stroking it lovingly with his thumb. Your cheeks caught fire and your husband chuckled, then whispered, "No matter how many times we dance together, you will always get flustered, my lady"

"It's stronger than me" you replied, looking straight into his adoring eyes. And it was true, his touch as you danced was warm and welcoming, always reminding you of the immense love you felt for your husband and vice versa; when it happened you knew one thing for sure, that was home and no one was going to take it away from you.

Your feet moved in time, with the skirt of your dress fluttering with each pirouette. Jack felt like the happiest man in the universe, his steps precise and attentive to your movements. He was thankful for choosing a comfortable pair of shoes, how could he think of having to dance in front of an entire pitch?

You two danced as graceful as two doves, with some of your laughter accompanying the notes that hovered in the air, filling the hearts of those present. Jack left you a few kisses here and there when he could, showing passion and affection for that moment which, even if small, he was sure you would always remember.

Before long, the already present spectators were joined by new ones.

"Look at them, so sweet...let's join, dear!"

"You remember how to dance, right?"

"This could be fun"

In a few seconds, the whole square was filled with lively couples, noble and not, gathered under the melodies of that sweet and gentle music.

"We were good, don't you think?" Jack whispered in your ear as your head rested on his chest, listening to his heart beat and his slightly irregular breathing.

"Yes, my love" you answered relaxed, before doing another pirouette to return to the starting position.

The colors around you, the passion the violinist put into the melody, everything was perfect; you kissed Jack like you've never done it before, enjoying the moment in each other's arms, smiling at life.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror x you #snv x reader #snv x you #request #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #jack the ripper x reader #snv jack the ripper #snv jack #ror jack the ripper

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starlightingsss · 6 months

Text

do you have a muse?

patrick bateman x struggling musician! reader (but sad)

(u guys i wanna write a part 2 of years after she gets famous and moves to LA where shes being interviewed and asked if she has a muse and she still remembers him and lvoes him after all those years and patrick somehow sees the interview and realizes he lost the love of his life or sm.) (also i have no idea how to write his character 😞)

she loved him.

she knew he was crazy, she was almost a victim of his crazy. but still, she loved him. how he spoke, the wrinkles on his face when he smiled, she loved him.

and it was horrible. hugging him was like hugging barbed wire, his touch was rough - and greedy. it seemed as if he wanted one thing, and one thing only.

"i think you're the only woman i could ever truly love," was something she heard often. maybe she was the only woman he could ever truly love but did he even know how to love? he would swear he loved her but any interaction between the two seemed to be onesided.

her soft hands reaching for him, for the comfort he could provide. his hungry hands reaching for her, for the pleasure she could provide.

it seemed as if she was nothing to him other than a good fuck, but he was everything to her.

it was so weird, he hated affection but he didn't push her away when she snuggled up to him. still, he never held her in public, he was embarrassed.

as they lay together in her bed, silence heavy in the air. he knew she loved him, he knew her heart ached for him, and him only. how she would push anyone except him away, only to be pushed away by him. after all, he was engaged. her name was evelyn and she was one of this prim and proper girls, the kind patrick wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with.

so maybe, maybe she loved him, but he wasn't hers to love. in reality, she was a struggling starlet and he was a high society businessman / serial killer, how could it ever work?

her thoughts were interrupted with his hand running through her hair.

"you know.. i write about you." she mumbled, looking up at him.

his eyes were heavy with sleep, but he was still awake - pondering his own thoughts.

"it's like i can't stop it.. every song. you just make your way into every song i write, its horrible.. you're like my muse." she whispered.

he just chuckled in response, as he continued playing with her hair. he was never this calm, or even affectionate at all. usually just scoffing down at her.

as sleep engulfed both of them, she was left with this feeling - impending doom. something was going to happen, not to either of them, but to their relationship.

maybe they didn't stand a chance together, maybe they were a horrible pair, but still - she loved him.

a love so great but still, a love that wasn't made to last.

#patrick bateman #slashers #slashers x reader #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman x you #patrick bateman x female reader #american psycho #starlet

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my-own-walker · 8 months

Text

Jigsaw Falling Into Place

Anonymous asked: Can you do some smut ab evan himself?

note: i am getting back into writing more small stories because i don't wanna get bored of the series haha. trying something a lil different

summary: in 2011, indie musician/rockstar reader has had a thing going with evan peters for a while. neither of them can stop thinking about each other. it's high time they talked it out.

warnings: sm*t, being delulu with a celeb fantasy, f1ngering, p in v, rushed plot lol

I loved doing strange things in the name of art. Even if it meant stirring up a bit of controversy. I had my fair share of weird music videos and clothing choices that turned heads. It's what you need to do to get noticed.

My band and I received some negative press when I said some...choice words about men in an interview. Why people were shocked that the female lead singer in a band had strong feminist viewpoints was beyond me. In my time away from working, aka, hiding from the controversy, I spent time socializing.

Being in my early 20s, I felt my freedom was stifled by my schedule and record label obligations. Now that I was being forced to step away, I had time for a social life. I went to more parties and met cool people. One of which being this guy, Evan.

Although we never said it to each other, I think we both knew.

From the moment we locked eyes, I knew one thing; I wanted to know him. I'm not sure if it was him or I that moved toward the other first, but we met in the middle of the crowded room, like a fucking movie, and he said:

"You look...you look very nice. B-beautiful, I mean. Damn, why can't I speak?" He looked around bashfully, saying 'I hope no one heard that' with his eyes.

I returned the compliment with a lopsided grin and a simple, "I'm Y/N."

After a lengthy conversation off in a corner somewhere, I wrote my number down on the back of his hand and took off, fucking off back to my apartment to seem mysterious. I waited by my cellphone with bated breath, seeing if he'd follow the "three-day rule." He texted me within an hour of me leaving.

We saw each other regularly for weeks after, continuously finding reasons to hang out. I was a spellbound darling in the haze of a precious love story, fawning over a starry-eyed boy.

My desire to seem aloof and therein more appealing, though, made me act coy in his presence. I could see it in his eyes that he felt the same, but I wasn't about to make that my problem. My fear of rejection kept me from overstepping the line of friendship.

Another drunken night at a bar after seeing some indie band play left me with some bad press again. I got caught mouthing off to a photographer who was hounding me in the street. A classic story, right?

Due to that, though, I was seriously put in time-out by my label, them advising me to stay home for a while. To avoid nightlife, that is. Just until it all blew over. I sat bored in my apartment, trying to write songs when my cell phone buzzed.

E: hey!!! how are u?

you heard :/

E: yeah. bummer :^(

i'll be fine. more time to b productive!

E: what are u up to now?

about to make dinner :D

E: ooo whatcha makin?

salad!

E: make enough for 2?

I can ;)

E: what's ur address? i'm coming over

I threw my phone onto the couch and sprung into action. I had to make the space look as presentable as possible for his visit. We had known each other for about a month, but neither of us had been to each other's place.

It took him next to no time to arrive. The knock at the door announced his arrival. I physically dropped what I was doing to let him in, anxious to see him.

He stood outside my door, rosy cheeks and bleach-blonde hair making his appearance seem almost ethereal. His eyes sparkled when he saw me.

"Come in," I smiled, gesturing toward the open space of my living room.

"Wow, it's nice in here," he cooed. I parted from him to return to making dinner. I watched as he observed the space and meandered over to the sofa, flopping down a a large sigh.

"What's the matter?" I asked, laughing.

"It was an ordeal getting in, is all," he chuckled, leaning forward in his seat to peer in at me.

"Why? My doorman is rather nice..." I returned.

"No, I made sure I got in in a way that I couldn't be seen," he explained. "I know you probably don't want to get caught with a mysterious guy sneaking into your apartment,"

"And why's that, Evan?" I challenged, finishing up and heading into the living room to sit with him.

"Big news, and all," he said, bashfully. "All things considered."

"I'm not worried about it, honestly," I assured him, putting a hand on his arm. "I've found that once you've ruined your reputation, you can live quite freely."

He coughed lightly and pulled at the collar of his sweater before sitting back with his arms crossed, very obviously checking me out with a smirk on his face. I ran my hand through my hair and adjusted the way I was sitting. So many words to say, but neither of us had the courage to do so.

All at once, Evan's lips were on mine. At first, I tensed up and pulled back, then, I relaxed into it, putting a hand on his cheek. We kissed passionately, his arms eventually snaking around my waist and pulling me even closer.

"My god," he gasped, pulling away. "You're fun to kiss."

I could only reply with a bashful laugh, my cheeks burning red.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," he exhaled.

"I've been wanting you to do that for a while," I returned, resting my hand on his chest. He looked down at the touch and back up at me with a glint in his gaze. The moment lingered, and I was spellbound in the light of his undivided attention.

"I never pictured myself getting this far. I don't know what I'm doing, quite frankly," he admitted, his brows turned up in disbelief.

I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his, pausing for a moment before giving in to the need to kiss him again. We pressed our foreheads together in the tightest embrace, this being the result of weeks of restraint.

Although we never said it to each other, I think we both knew.

His left hand threaded in my hair, his right still firmly wrapped around me, I was lit on fire. The all-consuming moment made it hard to breathe. I wanted him all at once. I wanted his very essence to touch every part of me. Every cell and fiber and bone in my being.

It mattered not what was going on in the world. The problems and the hurt and the unrest. At that moment, it wasn't our fight. Not our war. No longer a worry.

Evan was the only thing that mattered. Him.

"I need you," I murmured against his lips, grabbing the fabric of his shirt in my hands and pulling him on top of me.

It was like diving into the ocean, too swept up in the current to realize I was drowning in him. His hands were all over me. Pulling at my clothes and feeling at the glimpses of bare skin underneath.

I wanted all of it.

Just as I tugged his sweater over his head. Just as he pulled at my t-shirt. Just as I undid his belt. Just as he slid my skirt down over my knees. Just as he threw his own jeans across the room. A warmth spilled into my chest and spread outward. His presence soaked through my skin.

His lips ran up my neck and stopped next to my ear. "Okay?" he whispered.

"Yes," I breathed.

He spread my legs apart softly before lining himself up with my entrance. I moaned in his mouth when he penetrated me. He kissed me until all I could breathe was him. I ran my hands up his naked back as he found his rhythm.

I lost track of time. I was intoxicated by the heat of the moment, the warmth of his body, the waves of intense pleasure. There was something there that was real and raw and rare. We fit together like a jigsaw falling into place.

Before long, I found myself ready to succumb to the waves of pleasure. Evan must have seen it, because he paused for a moment, to say: "Not yet, beautiful." He pulled out of me and kissed me all over my body, tauntingly slow.

Then, he slid his fingers into me, setting a lazy rhythm that made my back arch and my toes curl. I existed at his very will. And all at once, after clinging desperately, I let go with a light moan. The pressure boiled over. Shudders shook me as I rested my forehead on his.

Evan's hands tightened on my waist. "Alright?" he asked, making sure he had permission to enter me again. I nodded.

He slid in. My arms were wrapped around his shoulders, my uneven breaths fanning his throat. He came with a masculine groan. The moment soaked through my skin. I could have lived in it forever.

We lay together in momentary bliss, I stroking his sweaty hair, him tracing shapes onto my arm with his finger.

"I love you," he whispered, before pausing entirely and saying a bit louder, "god, I mean, I love, holding...you."

I chuckled softly and guided his chin up to kiss me again. "You do?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

"I didn't mean to say that but yeah, I think I love you," he replied bashfully.

"Well, I think I love you, too, Evan," I smiled. He hugged me tighter, inhaling deeply in the crook of my neck. "God, I forgot all about dinner," I spoke after a beat. "Are you hungry?"

"No, not for salad," he laughed. "If I'm being honest, I don’t even like it. I just lied to get to your apartment."

DID MY BEST TO "TEXT" LIKE IT WAS 2011 FORGIVE ME!!! CRINGE!!! This was a fun one to write hope u like it and pls lmk if you do!!! (but not if you don't)

#evan peters #evan peters fic #me talking #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #ahs #james patrick march #evan peters oneshot #kyle spencer #kit walker #tate langdon ahs #tate langdon

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rabbitenn · 8 months

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Hii I read your last momo x reader and loved it so if it’s alright, could I request a romantic scenario about momo and the reader who had been an aspiring musician trying their best to reconnect with each other after momo ghosted them when becoming an idol? Maybe they used to date in the past and grew apart after momo discovered Re:Vale. I’m sorry if this is too specific I’m just in need of an angst to fluff😭🤍

RE: CONNECT.

In the end, it was always you and him.

ft. Sunohara Momose x gn! reader.

cw/genre: angst to fluff, romance. alcohol consumption (kids, don’t drink; adults, drink responsibly !).

hey lovely ! thank you sm for requesting and reading my other momo fic, I’m very happy you enjoyed that one <3 and omg don’t apologize, I really like this idea, we all love some good old angst to fluff hehe ~ I hope I managed to write this according to your expectations, dear 🩷 I’m very sorry for the long wait :((

Momo can’t really believe his eyes right now.

Of all places, this night bar was certainly not where he would have expected to find you again.

Not many people fill the worn out tables of the small local, the dimly lit stage casting you in yellow light.

Why were you here of all places?

You belonged in huge arenas, colored lights moving and changing with the notes you strummed on your guitar.

And yet, no matter how small the venue, everyone went silent the moment you started to play, your voice accompanying the melody your fingers strummed.

For the minutes you’re up there, Momo’s mind goes back five years, when he was just a college student with his soccer dreams shattered, and you were there to pick up the pieces, gluing them back together with the notes of your guitar.

He remembers, how you wanted to pursue a career in music… were your dreams scattered to the wind too, the moment he suddenly disappeared on you?

The music stops.

Momo takes a sip of his beer, almost choking on it in the process.

In the half light, your eyes meet.

—

This can’t be happening.

This really cannot be real.

Why now and why here?

Why is Sunohara Momose, your ex, who you have only seen on stage for the last five years, suddenly in front of you?

Well, is he even your ex, seeing how you didn’t exactly properly break up?

He just disappeared one day. No new texts, no new calls, nothing.

You were heartbroken, and really thought something had happened to him. Until one day, you saw Re:vale perform again.

And Momo was there.

You can’t let yourself show vulnerability now, however, so you keep walking towards him.

Why? You don’t really know, you don’t really think, but next thing you know you’re standing in front of him.

“Hey, [Y/n]… long time no see…” Your ex-boyfriend greets, awkwardly.

He hasn’t changed much, and the little differences aren’t new to you either, you’ve been seeing him on tv, on magazines, ads.

Everywhere except by your side.

You still hate yourself a little for thinking how cute he looks with pink on his cheeks, his sharp canines showing through his shy smile.

You loved that about him.

How he could brighten any room with his cheerfulness, but he could also get so bashful.

Maybe you still do love that about him.

Because as much as resentment and bitterness at his ‘disappearance’ found their way into your heart like a poisonous seed, you find yourself shifting back into old ways.

“Too long, hasn’t it?” Is your answer.

Your lips curve up into a sad smile, as you order a drink from a passing waiter, perhaps just to break the awkward silence.

“Yeah…” Momo mumbles, fuchsia eyes looking to the side. His hands tighten around his own beer, knuckles going white. He glances in your direction, just to find you already staring at the floor, not quite knowing how to carry a conversation that’s been put on hold for half a decade.

Your drink arrives. You nurse it for some moments, it’s larger than you had expected… but oh well, you might need the liquid courage anyway if you’re really here, sitting with someone who… well it’s complicated, you don’t know what he is to you right now.

As your lips graze the rim of the glass, Momo can’t help but reminisce in the way he used to feel them on his own, your hands in his hair, his around your waist….

No, he cannot linger on it now.

That’s over.

And it’s his fault.

He notices your guitar case, propped by your side.

“So, you still play?” He ventures. ‘Stupid’, he chides himself afterwards, ‘you’ve heard them play just now.’

However, his statement of the obvious is met with a sweet smile on your part, then shifting into something more woeful.

“Yeah… I do… It’s just… I was never able to… well, succeed…” You hang your head, hair falling in front of your face.

Momo’s eyes widen, either at your confession or at your state, he’s not entirely sure.

Probably at both.

But this isn’t good. He remembers all too clearly what happened the last time you got drunk.

He doesn’t want to see you getting sick again…

So, with a temptative motion, the idol reaches for your glass.

“[Y/n]…” He winces when he utters your name now. Just your name, not the cute pet names he used to come up with for you. “I think you’ve had enough…” Your ex-lover’s hand brushes yours when he tries to retrieve your glass.

“No!” You pout, dragging the drink back towards you.

“Come on, [Y/n], you’ll feel sick afterwards if you keep this up.” Momo tries, brows knitting together in concern.

“Won’t…” You slur, pulling your glass closer towards you, throwing your head back as you down its remaining contents in one go.

This would be a long night.

—

Effectively, after a while, you feel nauseous.

All you can register is the grey concrete of a dim lit street and walls covered in shadow.

And the feel of someone holding your hair back.

Your legs are going to give out from under you… this is bad… wasn’t someone telling you not to drink this much moments ago?

You should have listened.

Where is he now?

“Momo…” You mumble weakly, as you feel your vision going dark and all strength leaving you.

You never hit the floor.

Arms that used to hold you every night support you, your face against a shoulder that feels warm and comforting…

Maybe you’re delirious, or maybe you’d been longing for this feeling for too many years.

“Missed you…” Are your last words before your consciousness abandons you.

“Rest now, baby…” Momo whispers, a tinge of sadness in his voice, in his smile, as he hooks one arm under your knees, the other, around your shoulders.

—

You come to on a bed that feels both familiar and unknown.

Daylight pricks painfully against your bleary eyes the moment you push your covers away.

This t-shirt… you don’t remember having worn it in so long… You just know it belongs to someone you used to love, the print on its front from a band you used to listen to.

“Good that you’re awake…” A familiar voice utters nearby, its tone soft and full of concern.

A gasp leaves your lips when your eyes meet vibrant pink irises.

You suddenly sit up straight, pulling the covers closer around you.

You bring a hand to your head, the abrupt move clearly not good for your hangover.

“M-Momo?” You ask, as you look around and realize that, yes, this is, in fact, not your house.

“Good morning.” He smiles awkwardly, those damned small fangs too cute. “You… uh… were pretty drunk last night…”

Heat rises to your cheeks as memories of the pub come back to you, the too-big-beer and the fact you didn’t drink often, a deadly combination.

“I’m sorry for imposing.” You say, going to get up, realizing you’re not wearing any pants, the oversized t-shirt stopping just where your thighs begin. “I… where are my clothes?”

“I washed them, they should be dry by now.” Your host explains.

Wow, he went and washed them and all, when you know how he isn’t the best at keeping up with laundry.

“Uh… could you… bring them… I’m going to get changed and leave.”

“Are you sure you feel okay?” Those puppy eyes and that tone. They almost make you reconsider.

“I shouldn’t be here to begin with.” You let out. Then you click your tongue at yourself, realizing how ungrateful your statement sounded. “I mean, thank you for having cared for me, but I’ve caused you enough trouble.”

Your ex’s expression darkens, as he turns on his heel, retrieving your clothes from the bathroom.

You get dressed in a rush, pick up your belongings, and are out of his doorstep before things can get more awkward.

Momo stays there, back leaning against the door you just closed between you, wondering, is there a second chance for you two?

What he doesn’t know yet is that you’ll come knocking on his door soon enough.

You find out as soon as you get to your apartment complex, though, the elevator mirror showing back an oversized t-shirt that’s definitely not yours.

—

Why are you wearing your best clothes, and why are you fussing over whether your hair looks good enough and your makeup is alright, you can’t fully understand.

This is not some date, and even if it was, or rather, back when it could have been, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you with no makeup, sweats and messy hair.

You take a deep breath, before ringing his doorbell, hands clinging to the bag that contains the reason for this visit.

“Yeah? Who is it?” His voice comes from the other side of the intercom, and the stupid thought of wondering if you look decent through its camera crosses your mind.

You clear your throat.

“It’s me. I… I forgot to return something to you the other day…”

A sound announcing the door’s opening accompanies his “Of course, come in.”

You can imagine his tender smile just by hearing his voice.

No, you have to focus. You’re here to return his t-shirt, thank him for the other night, and then, leave.

You can’t let your heart fool you again, five years of solitude should have been enough for the moral of this story.

You can’t help but smooth your hair as your heartbeat quickens while the elevator goes up, and up, and maybe you wish it’d never stop.

But finally, this limbo suspended in mid-air stops, the doors opening with a ‘ding’, the door to his apartment already open.

“Hey.” Momo greets you, white hoodie and black sweats on, as his hand fiddles with the door handle, the bright azalea petals contained in his stare slowly falling to the ground as his gaze casts downward.

This expression… you remember memories archived in now yellowing pages, when your lips used to graze his cheek; words of praise for him, the lyrics to the love song you composed with the compliments you showered him in.

“Hi.” You breathe out, biting your lower lip, eyes averted to the side.

A few seconds of heavy silence pass, too many things you wish you could say now; too many years you’d like to have had by his side; too many things he wishes he could do differently now.

You shake your head, mustering a smile.

You realize it’s genuine, that you’re truly happy to be standing in front of him right now, right here, even if things can’t really go back to the way they used to be.

“This is yours.” You offer him the bag. “I left with it by accident the other day… I wanted to thank you for taking care of me that night too…”

The idol takes the package from you, surprise palpable in the way his gaze widens.

“Well, I’ll be on my w-“

“Would you like to come in?”

You two question at the same time.

You give him a sad smile.

“Momo I shouldn’t…”

“Please…” He practically begs you, like he used to ask for ‘one more!’ whenever you played songs for him on your guitar, under starry summer skies. “I- I need to tell you something! We- I want to talk to you…”

“Momo.” You call him, a bit stern. “You had five whole years to reach out…” You inhale deeply. “If it could wait that long then it’s not important, is it?”

“It is!” He goes to reach for you, but stops himself.

You won’t look at him.

Weren’t you happy a minute ago to be here? With him?

So why? Why do you pull away now?

“Please, [Y/n]… I- I was stupid, okay? When I joined Yuki and formed the new Re:vale… I wanted to do my best for him, in five years… And in so, I ended up neglecting you. I don’t know why I acted that way, I can’t understand why I let us drift apart… So please, let me fix it?”

You don’t know if it’s his words, the desperation his tone carries, or his pleading eyes, but you really can’t hold half a decade of pent-up emotions anymore.

“You idiot…” You mumble, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? You just… might as well have vanished. Until I saw you on tv one day, and I knew you were okay…”

Arms that stopped your freefall just the other night wrap around you, rivers of lost time streaming down your cheeks, dewdrops of regret on his lashes.

“What are we, Momo?” You ask, voice a quivering crystal thread, holding on on sheer will power and a heart that never really stopped being his.

“Why don’t we find out again, baby?” Comes his reply, his term of endearment for you managing to curl your lips into a nostalgic smile. “[Y/n]? Go on a date with me?” Is the temptative question he utters in the privacy of just you and him.

With your face burrowed into his shoulder, and his fresh and musky scent surrounding you in new morning light, you know this is a one-answer question.

“I’d love that.” You say, as his hands cup your face, thumbing away your tears.

Your lips still won’t touch again.

But the night is young.

And many more will come after this one.

And for now, that is enough.

#idolish7 x reader #idolish7 imagines #idolish7 #idolish7 x you #idolish7 x y/n #ainana #ainana x reader #idolish7 scenarios #sunohara momose #momo x reader #sunohara momose x reader #idolish7 fluff #idolish seven #idolish7 hadcanons #anime x reader #anime imagines #anime angst #anime fluff

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edwardskhakipants · 7 months

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Ignoring canon that Edward dislikes 60s/70s music, I think after falling in love with Bella the songs "sugar sugar" by the archies and "hooked on a feeling" by blue suede definitely ended up on a playlist

That one, off-hand line always bothers so much. It's obvious why she wrote it in. SM doesn't like disco, so she made her character not like disco. Simple as that. Because the woman doesn't put more than five seconds of thought into her decision-making process, she forgot all the incredible musicians that came from that era and we all have to live with the knowledge that Edward doesn't like any of them.

Except for the fact that canon is fake and we don't have to listen to it at all.

You know Edward didn't hate Simon & Garfunkel. He absolutely jammed to Keep the Customer Satisfied with Emmett and scream-sang the lyrics to Sound of Silence. And he loved Billy Joel! Piano Man played in the Cullen house nonstop for at least a week. You already know my headcanon that he always played Don't Stop Me Now by Queen on the piano anytime he won a game against Emmett. He listened to Rocket Man, Candle in the Wind, and Goodbye Yellow Brick Road alone in his room.

But I digress.

Sugar, Sugar and Hooked on a Feeling both ended up on a Bella playlist. Absolutely they did!! So did You are the Sunshine of My Life, Can't Help Fallin' in Love, and Can't Take My Eyes Off of You.

Because Edward is a nerdy little dork and loves all music from all eras, actually.

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muzzleroars · 3 months

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Here are a couple notes i found! It is very unserious 😅 uhh the part i feel like you'll find the most interesting is separating the angels by generation like machinery, however its not only the angels since there are other various fantasy races who are also organized this way.

YAAAAAYEYEYEEYEAAAA LUCIFER FOOD!!!! i absolutely love him as a musician - i definitely think of lucifer as a master of any and all instruments, with music hardwired into his very core as a seraph. he's an intense artist in my eyes, the only angel to inherit the infinite creativity of god and so he often expresses himself in composition through whatever instruments he can get his hands on (creating both the ethereal and cacophonous lol) DRESSES LIKE A RACE CAR GOD BLESS.....love lucifer having a strong sense of his style, mostly for the aforementioned artist reasons, though it's not always. what makes sense to humans lol i absolutely won't question it bc i trust him!!!!! love to see angel gens too!!! lucifer is definitely an early model to me and his primordial nature makes him bigger than a lot of the others (definitely taller than the archangels) and omg poor man can't use a phone.....my lucifer is the kind of guy who is ENTIRELY tech incompetent bc he's billions of years old and refuses to keep up, so he couldn't even use a tablet ;o; thank you sm for sharing little tidbits on your lucifer.....i just love him....and please tell me more if you like!!! i wonder what other kind of races there are and what the world is like :O!!!

#HOPE IT'S OK IM PLAYING DEVIL SHOW AND TELL....he is so special....#i hope he has a best friend uwahhh #thank you for sharing i kiss him!!!!#cake answers

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bratzforchris · 11 months

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Hiiiii I saw your post on autistic Luke and I loved it. You made me feel seen. Can you do a part 2 or Luke with an autistic girlfriend headcanons? Thank you sm 💓

Loving Luke (Part 2)

thank you for the sweet request anon! i'll add a part 2 to the luke headcanons, but i'm going to do luke with an autistic s/o headcanons for my own writing too hehe :) you can read part 1 here

❊luke adores legos, but not the typical "builds a 16,000 piece lego set in a day because he's autistic" sets. he enjoys the lego flowers and paintings the most

❊has a very strong connection with animals. any time you go on a walk together, luke always finds a squirrel or a little bird to make friends with. sometimes, he'll even carry some bread crumbs or seeds for the animals with him

❊despises doing dishes. the feeling of wet food, the sounds of glasses hitting each other, and the water changing temperature overstimulates him

❊is extremely artistic. not just in music, but he loves to doodle on everything. oftentimes, he'll draw on his hands when he's bored and needs some stimulation

❊is a tippy toe walker because sometimes his whole foot on the floor is just too much. the only downside to this is that it makes him even more prone to hitting his head on doorways

❊like many autistic people, luke does not fall into traditional gender roles. he enjoys experimenting with clothing, makeup, and accessories that may not always be "masculine"

❊hates microfiber cloths so much

❊has a stuffed dog with thinning fabric on its ears because he rubs the fabric between his thumb and forefinger as he tries to sleep

❊likes to "parallel play" with you. it helps him work when you're sitting in the same room, but working on your own tasks

❊like many musicians, luke stims with his guitar. he'll pluck from the low e string to the high e string and back again

❊has a large vocabulary (have you HEARD wfttwtaf??) and enjoys learning new words

❊very obsessed with time keeping and routines. they help him function and think clearer

❊protective over his possessions. he softly tells you he has boundary when you first start dating and that boundary is please don't touch his guitars or piano without asking first

❊the first time luke ever spoke, it wasn't a word, it was a sentence. he was 4 and it was to correct someone on calling a ukulele a guitar

❊even as a grownup, he loves to swing. it gives him some good vestibular stimulation

❊making his coffee is one of luke's biggest coping mechanisms. it's not even consuming the drink, it's the act of picking a mug, pouring the perfect amount of coffee/sugar/cream, and stirring it that soothes him.

❊luke has an extremely strong moral compass. he is not good at lying and gets very sad when he experiences injustices against himself or others

❊prefers to listen, rather than talk. luke's favorite way to unwind at the end of a long day is to cuddle in bed with you and listen to you talk about your day

that's all for now<3 i'm so thankful for the positive feedback i've gotten on these little headcanons :)

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xocasper · 2 years

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hey!! i was wondering if u could mayb do a ray toro smut w fem!reader? so like the readers in the band and she kisses someone on stage (like how gee and frank used to) and basically ray gets jealous because he has a thing for her and after the show they are sharing a hotel room bc they have to (one bed trope oml). ray blurts out smth abt how he cant believe she kissed however shes like why and he kisses her and one thing leads to another... can u pls make ray the dom? like rough but still loving?

i love ur work sm <333

Wrecked and Jealous

Pairing: Ray Toro x Fem!Reader Summary: You share a heat-of-the-moment kiss with Frank on stage, and it sets Ray off. After the show, you have to share a bed with Ray, and he has little choice but to tell you the truth. Warnings: NSFW content Tags: mild angst, jealous sex, nipple play, rough sex Word Count: 2858 A/N: I have written so much within the past four days. It's been insane. After having awful writer's block, I'm abusing my passion for writing while I have it. Also, the reader is basically Matt Cortez in this. I love Matt.

For as long as you’d known the band, you never thought you’d be playing on stage with them for thousands of adoring fans, listening from a few feet away as they screamed lyrics back to Gerard as he pranced around the stage. You’d seen dozens of their shows, but playing one was a different story. When Mikey got married and decided to take a break, their choice for a substitute was unanimous, picking their very own guitar tech–you.

Of course, you were flattered, and with a bit of convincing, you decided to join them on stage, feeling more grateful than ever that you had bothered to learn bass. Even though they were told to pick a touring musician, or at least someone with “a little more experience,” the band stood firm, insisting that it had to be you. They felt more comfortable having a friend on stage, especially after knowing you for several years already, though one of them pushed harder than the others.

Ray had convinced not only their manager, but you, that you were a perfect substitute, swearing up and down that the fans would love you–and they did. Admittedly, you moved a bit more than Mikey did, and while you didn’t have Frank’s level of energy, you still put on a show like the rest of them. You didn’t have to do much to get them screaming, and if you didn’t have them at the start, you’d have them hooked with Give ‘Em Hell, Kid.

Playing aside, any interaction with Frank sent them into a frenzy. Not that either of you minded; working with Frank for so long had made you pretty close friends, and he had a blast messing around with you. When he wasn’t rolling around on stage, he was brushing up against you like a cat and resting his head on your shoulder, practically hanging off of you while you played.

People loved it, and it didn’t take long for them to start shipping you guys, much to Ray’s dismay. From across the stage, he’d watch as you fooled around with Frank, how he made you laugh any time he’d try to pick you up, and the way you’d kick your legs with a wide smile on your face as he dragged you around. Occasionally, your skirt would ride up, exposing your bare thighs and a little more curve than what’s appropriate, riling up the teenage crowd as they saw a nearly half-naked girl for the first time. Ray had to side with the crowd, getting flustered at the sight, though he felt a pang of jealousy that Frank was the cause of it.

It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, trying to keep in mind that you and Frank were just friends. This worked for a little while, until one particular show when Frank got one hell of an adrenaline rush and made a rash decision. Between two songs, he ran up to you at full speed, hands planted firmly on your waist as he pulled you in, his lips crashing against yours in a heat-of-the-moment kiss. This wasn’t a light peck either; your arms wrapped around his neck, almost immediately–as if it were a common occurrence, Ray noted–passionately tugging him closer.

As anyone could’ve guessed, the fans lost their minds, hooting and hollering as you pulled away, giving him a smile and a playful shove. Gerard was shocked, giving the two of you a look while the next song started up, one of surprise rather than annoyance. Ray, on the other hand, had an obvious look of distaste, trying to ignore the very steamy kiss he had to witness between the girl he liked and his bandmate.

He played the rest of the show in a bitter mood; you and Frank got along swell though, making his jealousy increase tenfold. Thankfully, the show ended soon after, and Ray wanted nothing more than to hide away in his hotel room and hopefully not think of you. Tonight was not in his favor though, because all he could do was think about you, watching you closely on the way there while you chatted with Gerard–and still, not him.

You weren’t intentionally ignoring him, he just seemed upset and distant, and you didn’t want to ask about it with the guys around. The trip back to the hotel wasn’t long, so you’d be able to sit him down sooner or later.

When you entered the lobby, Ray went up right away to get the keys, mentally drained and seeking solace in the form of a warm bed. This seemed fine at first, the rest of you standing around chatting about the show, only to be interrupted with some unfortunate news.

“They overbooked,” Ray announced, a bit frustrated at the situation. “They can give us three rooms, which means someone will be alone, and the rest of us have to share.”

Bob immediately piped up, “Dibs on the single.”

No one bothered to argue, save for a sigh from Ray. Frank was next to speak, “I’ll share with Gerard.”

That was fair, the two of them shrugging casually, leaving you and Ray to share as well. He gave you a tight-lipped smile, trying to hide his annoyance as he handed you a key, the rest of the guys already piling into the elevator.

“There are two beds, right?” you asked, trying to be conscious of his comfortability, but he took it to heart, giving a hostile shrug. Okay, weird. He was usually optimistic, and he never cared about having to share a bed with anyone else–maybe it was because of you.

He fumbled nervously with the key as you reached the door, and you offered to try, only seeming to annoy him more. He ignored you and pushed the door open a bit too hard, guilt flashing in his eyes as you jumped from the bang it made as it hit the wall. A soft apology was on the tip of his tongue, but so was an envious outburst, so he kept his mouth shut and walked inside.

Your eyes widened as you stepped in, “Oh shit.”

One bed. No futon, no couch, and not even a large bed at that–a double, with four stiff pillows and a slim chance that you wouldn’t be touching. He let out an exasperated sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if there would be another place to sleep when they opened. To make matters worse, it was freezing, which meant you’d have little choice but to huddle together.

You let Ray dwell on his misfortune for a moment, leaving him to check the closet for extra blankets while you changed in the bathroom. You could hear him curse through the wall, and you hustled to see what was wrong this time.

“The thermostat doesn’t work,” he told you, and sure enough, it wouldn’t budge. Of course, you had only packed shorts and t-shirts to sleep in, so you miserably accepted an icy death. You sighed in disappointment, climbing under the covers as he undressed in front of you. Flushing, you stared up at him, a bit shocked at his shamelessness. He only raised his eyebrows at you, shucking off his jeans and reaching into his bag for a pair of sweatpants. Your eyes flickered down to his waist, and then a little further, unabashedly tracing the prominent outline in his boxers.

Ray pretended not to notice, not after the stunt that Frank pulled earlier. Maybe he would have made a sly comment about it on another day, but he was still overcome with hurt and jealousy, getting into bed and staying as far away from you as possible. He managed to make the already chilly room colder, his pessimism starting to get to you as you turned around, your back to his.

The room was dark, and though you couldn’t see him, you could feel each of his movements. Ray wouldn’t stop shifting around, tugging the blanket off of you as he tried to get comfortable. After about five minutes of tug of war, you finally snapped. “What is your problem?”

Your tone surprised him, but he continued to ignore you, not in the mood to have a heart-to-heart–especially not with you. Annoyed, you sat up and flicked the table lamp on, receiving a huff from him.

“Ray.”

“What?” he answered flatly.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, trying to hide the impatience in your voice, although you were genuinely concerned about him.

He sighed, “Nothing.”

You tried again, voice more stern. “Ray.”

Finally, he sat up against the headboard, eyes darting down to where you had your arms crossed, incidentally pushing your chest up–you weren’t wearing a bra either, making him wonder if your shirt was that tight earlier or just now. This wasn’t the time to be checking you out though, and he gave another stubborn, “What?”

You didn’t give in, eyes narrowed as you waited for him to answer. One staring contest later, he heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face.

“I can’t believe you kissed him.”

Your expression softened, “What do you mean?”

“Frank,” he said. “You kissed him.”

Shaking your head in confusion, you tried to figure out what the issue was. “Why do you care?”

“Because I–”

The words got caught in his throat from there, shutting his eyes and sighing softly before cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a heated kiss. It didn’t last long, his common sense kicking in quick, and he broke away. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you worriedly.

You didn’t answer–not verbally, anyway–bringing him back in by the nape of his neck. His lips were soft, clashing perfectly with the way they moved, fierce and biting, his grip on your jaw unwavering. You gave a soft gasp when he pulled away, gently tugging on your bottom lip before swiping his tongue across it. He sighed against your lips as you slid your hands down his bare chest, delicately running your nails over his skin. Languidly, your tongue slipped past the seam of his lips, your light movements soon corrupted by his more fervent ones.

Ray’s fingers danced across the hem of your shirt, caressing the sliver of skin below it before gliding his hands under the thin fabric. His hands were warm, and slightly calloused, contrasting against your skin, smooth and cold from the frigid room.

“You’re cold,” he mumbled, pulling away.

You nodded, grinning like a minx. “Warm me up then.”

Eagerly, he complied, tugging you down against the pillows. His lips latched onto your neck, leaving wet kisses galore, with a periodic nip at your clear skin, soon to house faint marks that would remind you of Ray for days to come. His hands cupped your breasts beneath your shirt while his mouth trailed down your collarbones, thumbs sweeping across your nipples eliciting a quiet gasp from you.

The minute he pulled away, you tugged your shirt off, craving his touch once more. His lips landed back on yours, kissing you hot and messy before ducking back down to your chest, staring breathlessly at your bare skin, on display for him alone. He wasted no time kissing across the newly exposed skin, hands planted on your waist while his lips ghosted across one of your nipples, his warm breath making you shiver.

He wet his lips, holding your gaze as he swirled his tongue around it, missing the mark every time in a way that was almost impressive. In a single broad stroke, he ran his tongue flat against it, making you arch, pushing yourself further against him. His hands pushed you back down as he continued to work his tongue against you, unforgiving and just shy of overwhelming, closing his lips around the bud and coming off almost as quick.

He didn’t stop there, swapping sides and lapping at your nipple once more, each moan and sigh going straight to his dick as he worked his tongue against you. His hands dug into your sides, holding you against the mattress in an authoritative way, arousal seeping through your panties. With the way he used his mouth, you could only imagine how it’d feel between your legs, but that was a task for another time.

Slowly, he pulled off, your grip on his shoulders tightening and he stared down at you, eyes wide and lips slick with saliva. His expression alone had you wanting more, needing to see the look in his eyes as he fucked you, his grip tight and thrusts harsh as he pounded you into the mattress.

Ray tugged down your sleep shorts, watching your expression for uneasiness, but only finding desperation. You had seen him play a million times, eyes transfixed on his hands during shows, and just the thought of him using them on you sent arousal flooding through you. He ran the pads of his fingertips across your panties, damp from where you had soaked through, nearly moaning knowing you were this wet for him, not for Frank or Gerard, or anyone else–just for him.

Hastily, he pulled those down too, and you let out a hiss as you were fully exposed to the cool air. Ray had no problem warming you up as instructed earlier, one hand on your jaw to keep you from looking away, the other sweeping through your wet folds. He savored every sound you made, fueling his desires as he pushed his fingers inside of you. They were thicker than yours, filling you nicely as he worked them, stretching you out before you tried to take him. If his fingers were anything to go by, you were in for a long night.

His impatience got to him, and even though he had a lovely view watching you writhe and moan from just his fingers, he would kill to see you fall apart on his cock. You were in no way opposed to it, bucking your hips into his hand as his thumb rubbed your swollen clit, needing more with each passing second.

“Please,” you mumbled out, moaning against his lips as he kissed you.

He understood, not needing more than a small plea to take his fingers back, the whine you let out playing on repeat as he wriggled out of his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off as his cock stood proud before you. God, was he a sight for sore eyes, looking like he walked straight out of an erotica novel, dribbling precum as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him while he lined himself up between your legs.

Before he pushed in, he paused, knowing this was an inopportune moment to bring it up, but he craved reassurance. “You’re not… there’s no one else, right?”

You shook your head, shooting him a small grin, “Nope, just you.”

A sweet smile graced his face, kissing you once before thrusting in. He gave you a moment as he pushed in completely, waiting for a sign to keep going. A gentle nod and he kicked into gear, his hips snapping roughly against yours. His hands migrated to your hips, his grip firm as he pounded into you at a ruthless pace. Despite the powerful force he used, his eyes were gentle, making sure that you still wanted this.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, gaze lingering on your half-lidded eyes and kiss-bitten lips, slick and swollen as he kissed you.

Struggling to find words through your lust drunk haze, you pulled him closer, arms slung around his neck as you moaned against him, muscles winding tight from his relentless rhythm. Reluctantly, he pulled away, watching in awe as you came undone below him, breath stalling as he gave a few strong thrusts and slid out, coating your stomach in pure sin.

Exhaustion hung heavy in the room, the low temperature getting to you once more as you reached over to Ray, who laid flat on his back as he caught his breath.

“You okay?” he asked faintly, handing you a tissue from the nightstand to clean up the mess. You mumbled a small ‘thanks,’ unsure of how to answer.

You’d always been fond of him, typically talking to him more than the other guys, and spending as much time around him as you could. Your feelings hit you like a brick, realizing all the little things you did for him, unaware that it was because you were interested in him. Sure, you knew you felt differently about him compared to everyone else, but you never dwelled on it too much. You liked him, and he liked you too, which sounded pretty damn good in your opinion, smiling softly as you looked over at him.

“Is this a dream?” you asked, curling into his chest.

“If it is, I hope I never wake up,” he told you, pressing a sleepy goodnight kiss to the top of your head, holding you close just in case he woke up in the morning and you were gone. You didn’t mind, arms wrapped tightly around him as you slipped away into a peaceful slumber, happy to be held in the dark of the night.

taglist: @lubbockshusband @yachiiko @newgirlinhell @blackberryblossom @whothefuckisfranklero @griffinfinity @heaveaux @aliceblxck @ce-ci @halloweenbitch2764 @saywhaaaa

#ray toro x reader #ray toro smut #mcr x reader #mcr smut

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charcadett · 1 year

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i’m totallyyyyy not here to spread more cofagrigus propaganda. definitely not. trust me (lying) also ik this is like my third time requesting but i can’t help it!! i love ur work sm <3 ^_^

ok so for the request, reader has a cofagrigus (ofc) and they’re friends with ryme!! they talk about ghost types n all that fun stuff and ryme decides to show the reader her gholdengo. ik she doesn’t have one on her team but. whatevs she has one anyways and its just her Silly Buddy that likes to chill instead of battle. oh and extra detail! reader isn’t familiar with paldean ghost types bc they’re from unova :3

anyway, reader has their team meet ryme’s and ryme looks at their cofagrigus and goes “hey.. your cofagrigus is staring pretty hard at gholdengo isn’t it..” basically neither of them realize that cofagrigus is feelin a lil hungry for some gold hehe…

so pretty much, just some headcanons of reader and ryme’s friendship and reaction to cofagrigus trying to eat gholdengo ^_^

HIIIII! I am always always happy to help you spread your Cofagrigus propaganda, I adore that little guy. I got very happy when I saw your request! Not only was I like OOOH COFAGRIGUS ANON HI but yes yes Ryme!!! Her Gholdengo in this is a new evolution she’s been working on. Will she add it to her main team? Maybe! She’s leaving the final decision to Gholdengo.

Your Cofagrigus Wants To Eat Ryme’s Gholdengo (Friendship)

- You and Ryme have been friends for more than a decade, though a majority of that was spent long distance. Back when she was younger, she visited Unova on business, both for Pokemon and her music career. Who said she couldn’t get a few battles in between verses? Meeting a cool Ghost-type trainer while she was out and about was the icing on the cake. You kept in contact all these years, either through letters or email.

- Meeting back up in person for the first time in years is a treat. Especially with the delight of meeting a Unovan Ghost-type she hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting yet. Your little Yamask sure got big! Smiling at your old friend, you jerk your head to her Gholdengo. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your weird little friend?”

- You don’t have to ask Ryme twice. It’s no cakewalk to evolve a Gimmighoul, and she is more than happy to tell you about it. She’s bragging, but you let her. Ryme has the right to brag. Both a Gym Leader and an accomplished musician, she’s just as cool today as she was when you first met.

- The two of you shoot the shit in her living room. You’re giggling into your coffee as Ryme tells you how many towers she had to climb to get those Gimmighoul coins. She spares Gholdengo an affectionate pat before her attention is back on you. While you ask her if she’s thinking about adding it to her team, neither of you notice your Cofagrigus’ intense stare at the now sweating Steel/Ghost-type.

- Cofagrigus floats forward, and Gholdengo takes a step back. Cofagrigus’ shadowy hands inch closer, and Gholdengo raises its hands to prepare for a Shadow Ball. It doesn’t like that unmistakable hungry look in Cofagrigus’ eyes. Ryme hears her Gholdengo utter a frightened cry, and her eyebrows raise. “What’s up with Cofagrigus?”

- You cock your head to the side. Blinking at the two Pokemon, you run through all the information you can remember about Cofagrigus. Ryme has Gholdengo’s ball balanced in her palm, at the ready in case anything unsavory happens. Then you remmber Cofagrigus' diet. “Shit!”

- Despite Cofagrigus’ ball being on your belt, you choose to launch yourself at your Pokemon and hang off its back. Ryme laughs, one hand on her stomach, the other comforting her no longer frightened Gholdengo as Cofagrigus bucks you around. Its grin never wavers as you shout exclamations of “Bad! Don’t eat Gholdengo! That’s not cool, buddy!”

- After five minutes of Cofagrigus jerking you around, it settles and you recall it back into its ball. Through her snorts, Ryme tells you that you should visit more often. She hasn’t had this much fun in years. You sheepishly rub the back of your head. At least you didn’t break anything this time. That only serves to make Ryme laugh harder.

#pokemon x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon headcanons #gym leader ryme x reader #but like friends #platonic reader #honestly im imagining ryme climbing up all ghose towers in paldea to get gimmeghoul coins and everytime she gets up one #she takes a sec to catch her breath and shes like #youre lucky i like you so much little guy #now shadow ball his ass #implied that cofagrigus tries to eat your friends pokemon often #will it actually? probably not but it thinks your reactions are funny

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