#and all the artists were really just off the top of my head
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glass--beach · 3 hours ago
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what do you think sixth wave emo will sound like?
gonna be honest i feel like even the definition of fifth wave emo is a little flimsy. it includes a mix of artists that are just continuing emo revival (4th wave) without rly changing it as well as artists who are so far removed from emo that putting them under the umbrella is a little reductive. but emo is just such a polarizing genre that if there is 1% emo in a band's sound they immediately become for emo fans only.
just real quick for any followers who don't know the waves (this is off the top of my head so might not be perfect):
1st wave (late 80s): Washington DC emotive hardcore, not very far removed from post-hardcore at all, just more focused on emotions whereas post hardcore tended (at the time) to be more political. ie rites of spring, moss icon
2nd wave (90s - early 00s): the start of "midwest emo" - develops the sound further through the influence of post-rock among other things, tends to use less distortion & gentler singing. some bands became minor successes through the post-nirvana alternative rock gold rush but many were not appreciated til way after they were active. american football, capn jazz, sunny day real estate, the promise ring, mineral, etc etc etc
3rd wave (00s): what the average person knows emo to be. often known as mall emo. crosses over with pop punk frequently. this wave saw the greatest commercial success due to strong pop songwriting and slick production. spoke to a general malaise among teenagers post 9/11. my chemical romance, AFI, the used, brand new, also includes the whole "scenecore" wave towards the end of the 00s
4th wave (late 00s - mid 10s): the "emo revival". largely a reaction against the commercialization of the genre that occurred in the 3rd wave, and a revival of a more 2nd wave sound. bands in this wave tended to put out one album on a tiny label before fizzling out, and largely found success online. they also all REALLY hated 3rd wave. the world is a beautiful place and i am no longer afraid to die, snowing, the hotelier, algernon cadwallader, modern baseball (honestly i could list 4th wave bands forever it's the wave i'm most familiar with lol)
5th wave (late 10s - 20s): online, postmodern/post-postmodern, lots of influence from genres far removed from the first four waves of emo (jazz, hyperpop, folk, noise), bedroom production, digital sounds, synthesizers, odd instrument choices, autotune, pitch shifted vocals. two of the biggest influences here are Heccra and The Brave Little Abacus (i will go to my deathbed insisting TBLA is NOT an emo band though lmao). the thing is, there are bands lumped into this wave like Home is Where or awakebutstillinbed who generally have a much more 4th wave kinda sound & very few of the traits associated with 5th wave. or Origami Angel & Mom Jeans who remind me more of later 4th wave "weed emo" bands like Jank (fuck that band tho). AND THEN there's also bands here who sound more 3rd wave, like Jhariah. i'd say the bands most emblematic of a uniquely 5th wave sound (aside from the aforementioned TBLA and Heccra) are MEEEEEEEEEEEEE (glass beach), stomach book, lobsterfight, your arms are my cocoon, nouns, weatherday.
tbh the only real common thread with 5th wave is that all of these bands are friends lmao. there are very few bands I listed there that I do not know personally, some are very close friends, and the rest are like, one degree of separation from me. i believe Bea from Home is Where was the one to codify it but critics really latched onto the term because it's every critics dream to be the first to write about a new genre right as it emerges. 5th wave's variety is largely indicative of the breakup of monoculture that's been going on since the dawn of the internet, with this sort of postmodern genre collage aesthetic that has been facilitated by the increased ease of access to ALL styles of music for everyone in the world & micro-categorization of genre on sites like rym for example. i think it's going to take putting this all into historical context to really know what comes next. any new development in emo will inevitably fit under 5th wave's very broad umbrella, and as a result MANY bands in the genre reject the term. hell, the dividing lines between all of the existing waves are extremely arbitrary and there are countless exceptions to this generally accepted categorization going all the way back to the start of emo.
at this point it is genuinely impossible for there to be a 6th wave. i'm sure we'll see some new developments, some albums that shake things up, but it will take literally redefining the genre for there to be a Next Era of Emo.
if i can try to be a little deleuzian on main i predict we will see bands push the genre forward by using the components of the more uniquely 5th wave sound while not overtly referring to fifth wave (or ANY wave) at all. it'll probably take a different setting too, possibly less bedroomy, more live, maybe a more longform classical kind of approach rather than pop structure. small ensemble orchestra + autotuned screaming? tapping guitar over endlessly looping 190BPM 909 beats? otherwise by-the-numbers midwest emo bands with vocaloid singers? rapid oscillation between all of the waves, Naked City style? emo vocals with no instrumental accompaniment whatsoever? screamo jazz? 5th Wave: The Musical? Rites Of Spring meets The Rite Of Spring? fags in skinny jeans burning american flags while Courtesy of The Red White and Blue plays on a boombox? a band that's actually a tech startup that's actually a huge ponzi scheme? Talking Heads reunites but Jerry Harrison only plays in FACGCE now? drum stems from The Black Parade echoing through an abandoned parking garage? another 9/11? Emo bands that don't play music at all and just make out with each other on stage? who fucking knows. all i know is whatever comes next, online music nerds will be crying out "this isn't emo"
sorry for the essay LMAO
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plasmid-paladin · 10 months ago
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6, 23, 45 for the ‘be nosy’ ask game
6. Describe your dream home
One of those old victorian style houses thats been painted a fun color, like purple. The only real specifics I would have for the inside would be a japanese style unit bath, one of the nice ones where i can run a bath by pressing a button in the kitchen, a double decker oven in the kitchen, and a walk in closet. but other than that idk I just want a place thats cozy and with plenty of space to invite friends and family over.
23. Who are five of your favorite musical bands/artists?
in no particular order off the top of my head:
Hozier
Stromae
Ado (surprised me as my 2023 most listed to artist)
My chemical romance
Barenaked ladies (just for the nostalgia)
45. What's the worst date you've been on?
Ive been lucky that i havent really had any, but it was probably the second date i had with my now boyfriend and it wasnt even all that bad. We were in college and both didnt have cars at the time and were just looking for something to do on campus so we ended up just going to the game room in the student center and trying to play pool (neither of us had played it before and also had a handful of people around watching us fail and waiting to play). Eventually we just ended up sitting on a bench on the green talking about i dont even remember what. Yea it wasnt that bad we were both just awkward as fuck and still trying to like figure each other out
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basketobread · 8 months ago
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What is the inspiration behind your art style?
OOOHHH THIS IS A FUN QUESTION... honestly it's really hard to say but i'd say some of my greatest art inspo's would be...
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Adventure Time! (weird line up of characters i know but the style here is so cute)
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The Venture Bros! (for when i draw non-chibi characters tbh)
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The Devilman manga specifcally!! (I just really like the style and use of linework in it lol)
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And then finally... Osomatsu San. For my more chibi-ish style... I'm not even big on this anymore but I feel like my chibi style was totally influenced by this show specifically LOL
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seilon · 7 months ago
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please don’t by k.will did more for the gays back in 2012 than any boy group can possibly do with fan service and crop tops in 2024
#do young kpoppies know about please don’t by k.will. im serious do they know#I think about it a lot#it’s impossible to replicate the feeling of being gay and watching that mv in the 2010s and just getting bodyslammed by the ending.#like he really just dropped that shit in TWENTY TWELVE#kibumblabs#to this day I think that’s the most explicitly gay mv ive seen in kpop by an established artist#(ie not holland. no shade to him but he kinda built his platform on being an openly gay artist and he’s not a big industry name or anything#which makes the impact significantly different. if that makes sense. anyway.)#like think about any other example. almost all of them can be brushed off as fan service or are at least vague enough to be#up for interpretation#please don’t’s ending is nearly fucking impossible to write off as anything but explicitly gay#no fanservice involved. no vague staring in each other’s eyes. just straight up Oh He’s Not Jealous Of His Friend He’s Jealous Of His#Friend’s Fiancé. oh#like that’s the whole point. interpreting it any other way doesn’t make sense with the impact it’s purposefully supposed to make#like seriously try to say ‘he’s just sad he’s losing his friend to marriage :(‘ or something. you have to be REAL fucking stupid or#deeply in denial to make that argument let alone believe it#anyway. I appreciate this mv a lot#k.will the OG of doomed yaoi in kpop#kill me#closest contender off the top of my head is one more day by sistar#also note I am talking about mvs here not songs in general#cause if I were talking about songs in general. key’s out there pretty much writing about gay sex at this point so I mean#k.will#kpop#only adding actual tags because I want you to watch this mv if you haven’t already
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2kiran · 8 months ago
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FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.
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the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.
it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.
realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.
francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.
when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.
“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”
if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.
these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.
“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”
a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.
the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”
francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?
silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”
he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.
“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”
“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”
you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.
francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.
when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.
beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.
“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.
his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.
how could you deny him?
your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.
sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.
he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”
he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”
yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.
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masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx
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sweetteainthesummerx · 5 months ago
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⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, my, my, my ⋆·˚ ༘ *
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nhl masterlist !
pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader
warnings: angst and comfort, fluff
summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3
song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift
word count: 4.4 k
notes: I love lake quinn sm :)
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes
"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."
your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.
it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.
"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.
"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.
quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.
"look, quinny."
quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.
"oh." your father whispers.
"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.
"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."
your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."
..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..
i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine
"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."
"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"
"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."
"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.
the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.
you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.
and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...
he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.
it never occurred to her that he might be the one.
"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.
"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.
"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.
"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"
"birdie, it's just a joke!"
he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.
ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.
..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..
take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried
when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.
you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.
now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.
you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.
everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.
quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.
he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.
somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.
your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.
you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.
it lands on quinn.
your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.
this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.
quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.
he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.
"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.
you shook your head, "i want to."
he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.
his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.
as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.
you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.
you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.
..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..
take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me
the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.
when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.
"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.
the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.
it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,
"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.
"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.
"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.
"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.
"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.
you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.
it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.
he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.
he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.
that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.
so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.
and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.
it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.
he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.
so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.
so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.
"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.
he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.
you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.
your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.
you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.
tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"
"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.
his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.
the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.
quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.
and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.
his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.
"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.
"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."
the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.
he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?
you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.
he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.
you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.
"gas station run?" he asks.
you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."
"please? I really want chips."
you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.
the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.
you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."
"god, this is embarrassing-"
"quintin, i swear-"
"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.
there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.
the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.
"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.
"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"
"are you jealous?"
"what?"
"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"
"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.
you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.
"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"
you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.
he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.
..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..
well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see
"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.
"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.
there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.
you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.
he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.
your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.
you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.
he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.
you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.
or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.
and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.
his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.
the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.
"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.
you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.
you're mad.
you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.
you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.
you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.
"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"
it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.
he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.
you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.
that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.
quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.
you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.
"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.
you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"
quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.
the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.
he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.
"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."
suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.
you frown, realizing that you're in the air.
"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.
"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"
"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.
"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"
he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.
"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"
"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"
"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.
he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.
"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."
"quinn-"
"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.
now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.
but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.
"i love you!" you blurt out.
he turns slowly, "what?"
"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"
the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.
you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.
he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.
he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.
"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.
"say it again," he demands, just because he can.
"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.
"i love you too, chickie."
..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..
oh, my, my, my
"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.
the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.
well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.
he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.
you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.
you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.
they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.
"i can't wait for their wedding."
"hold on, now!"
..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..
a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee
you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.
it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.
the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.
this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.
quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.
and more importantly, the two of you are always together.
"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"
you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.
he leads you there, like he always does.
"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.
"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.
but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.
"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.
one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.
the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.
quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.
"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.
"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.
"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.
it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.
it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.
"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.
when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.
you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.
and then he drops down on one knee.
you start crying, immediately.
that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.
he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.
you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.
you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.
you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.
your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.
jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.
Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.
jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.
..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..
take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too
the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.
this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.
your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.
he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.
you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.
your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.
sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.
quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.
he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.
quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.
you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.
but the last dance is saved for the two of you.
"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.
"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.
you laugh, and so does he.
forever sounds real good to you.
★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★
© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.
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cxrrodedcoffin · 4 months ago
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Crimson & Clover - Aaron Hotchner
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Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: After laying in bed with cramps all day, Aaron offers to help ease them in a way you’ve never tried before.
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: my cramps are so bad right now and i just really wanted some fluffy hotch smut so i decided to write it myself lol, enjoy! <3
TW: period sex, fingering, mentions of blood, cramps, etc, afab + fem reader, pet names (sweetheart, honey), slight aftercare at the end
Rating: R, 18+
——
After a full day laid up in bed, you were starting to believe your body was your worst enemy. Every cramp and ache of your tired muscles pulled you further into an emotional fog, wishing the plush bedding surrounding you would just swallow you whole. You were a mess in every way, not to mention needy beyond words. You knew you were lucky to have such an understanding partner, willing to do anything to make you feel better.
“I’m back, honey.”
You pulled the covers off of your face, watching Aaron set a freshly brewed cup of tea on your nightstand before climbing into bed beside you. He sat with his back against the headboard and helped you sit up, leaning your head against his shoulder.
You reached for the mug, his large hand wrapping around it before bringing it to your lips. You placed your hands on top of his, tilting the cup slowly and taking small sips, warmth spreading through your chest with every gulp.
“Feel any better?” He asked after you took your last sip, now a little less light-headed, but cramps going strong as ever.
“A little, I just wanna lay down again.”
You tried to smile to reassure him you were okay, but he could see the way your brow furrowed ever so slightly from the pain you were in. As much as he loved taking care of you, he hated that he couldn’t take your pain away.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, is there anything else I can do?”
“Hold me, please?”
“I think I can do that.” He smiled down, sliding down under the covers with you. You rolled onto your side to face him, allowing his strong arms to snake around your waist as he pulled you partially on top of him. You laid your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as you tried to relax, his thigh settling between your legs. His fingers got to work rubbing small circular motions against your lower back, releasing some long-building tension from your sore muscles.
You relaxed into his touch, feeling the first bit of relief you’d had all day, an involuntary moan slipping from your lips.
���Does that feel good?” He mused, slightly increasing his pressure. You hummed a yes, nodding against his chest. Your neediness was starting to take over, the feeling of his skin against yours, how his stubble brushed against your cheek when you looked up at him, the smell of his cologne, it was all too much, the heat growing in your core almost unbearable.
You couldn’t help yourself as you slowly started to roll your hips, pressing your core down against his muscular thigh, craving every bit of stimulation you could possibly get without making a mess. His free hand found your chin, lifting it to look up at him.
“Do you want me to help?” He laughed, a gentle smile spread across his face. The way the outer corners of his eyes crinkled almost made you forget what you were doing, always so taken by how handsome he is.
“I don’t want to make a mess.” You frowned, trying to bury your face against his shirt.
“Look at me.” He redirected your gaze to his, his tone becoming more serious.
“I can put a towel down, besides, do you really think I’m afraid of a little blood?”
He had a good point, Aaron had seen more than his fair share of blood on the job, but this still felt different to you for some reason you weren’t sure of. He could see the continued hesitation in your eyes, and he didn’t want to say he knew what was best for you, but he absolutely did not want you denying yourself pleasure, and more importantly pain relief, just because you were afraid of getting a little messy.
“How about we start out slow, if you don’t like it we can stop, I promise.” He gave you that look that always made you melt, abusing his big brown eyes privileges to convince you. You nodded in agreement, rolling off of him so he could go grab a towel. When he returned, you lifted your hips so he could lay the towel out beneath you, helping remove your period underwear.
You felt exposed, more so than ever before due to your heightened sensitivity. You were almost shivering as you waited for him to get back into bed with you, the anticipation adding to your nerves.
“Are you ready?” He asked, pulling you flush against his side. You nodded, and the tap of his fingers on your inner thigh had you spreading your legs wider, adrenaline kicking in.
The moment he touched your clit, very ounce of hesitation within you melted away, leaving only moans and whimpers in its wake. Why you had never thought of this before, you didn’t know, but you were happy to understand it now. His fingers gently studied your folds, tracing intricate peaks and valleys until he had the topography memorized, determined to make every centimeter of your pussy feel loved and cared for.
It was deliciously torturous, your heightened sensitivity making each stroke incredibly pleasurable, but not quite enough to give you the relief you truly craved. You began to squirm, twisting the upper half of your body to bury your face in his chest, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt in your palms. You whimpered almost pathetically, trying to rut up into his hand in desperate need of more contact.
He shifted against you, causing you to shift away just slightly, momentarily making you worry that you were accidentally hurting him.
“M’Sorry” You mumbled, letting go of his shirt.
“It’s alright sweetheart, hold onto me as tight as you need.” He soothed, his free hand smoothing your hair away from your face. He had actually been adjusting to gain a better angle, gently pushing his middle and ring fingers into your entrance, pumping slowly in and out of your wet heat. You gasped at the intrusion, the intensity taking a moment to get used to until you were crying out in pleasure, completely uninhibited.
He increased the pressure of his movements, fingertips rubbing the soft spot inside of you as the heel of his palm rubbed firmly against your clit, bringing you incredibly close to the release you’d been craving.
“Go on honey, let go.” His permission was all you needed, your lips chanting his name as you pulsed around him, your milky white cum mixing with the deep crimson dripping down onto the towel.
Your whole body felt like jello, too weak to move but more relaxed than you’d been all week.
“Thank you.” You whispered, too fucked out to speak any louder for the time being.
“I’ll do that and more whenever you need me to, all you need to do is ask.”
You nodded in understanding, eyes fluttering shut momentarily from exhaustion. The next thing you knew he was gently nudging you awake, and you realized you must’ve dozed off. As much as he wanted to let you sleep, he was not the type to ever skip aftercare, and this was no different.
“I’m going to clean you up, okay?” He asked, gently parting your legs further to properly wipe your cunt clean with the warm washcloth he’s brought back. You hummed, enjoying the tenderness of the moment, feeling well and truly loved.
——
tag list: @lover-of-books-and-tea @ssa-aaronhotchner @pleasantwitchgarden
dm me or send me an ask to be added to my aaron hotchner or general taglist :)
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wifeyoozi · 5 months ago
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Lee jihoon - Popsicles for dessert
w.c : 1.5 k ┊ synopsis : jihoon's tired of all the pink underwear teasing and shows you he doesn't wear one┊ content warning : smut , bestfriends to lovers kinda , blowjobs , big dick jihoon , really big dick jihoon
a/n : aka the prompt ask y'all had been waiting for is finally here. Crack and smut.
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 It's all because Soonyoung.
He started it.
The whole pink underwear drama. Jihoon, for the fact, does NOT wear pink underwear. Maybe he wore them once for the sake of one of his ex’s kinks. But he doesn't own pink underwear. There's black and there's dark grey and there's dark blue. A red one for when he's feeling extra freaky. Nothing pink.
And yet all of this fuss and teasing. And it was still bearable when it was just the boys teasing him.
But then you caught on that inner joke. Well, more specifically, soonyoung told you. On purpose. Knowing how big of a crush Jihoon had on you, his best friend. And you found that funny too. And then you started teasing him about it. And he's so embarrassed. 
And today it happened again. You two were just discussing your lives lately, and you told Jihoon about all the new make up you bought recently and how much you love that pink lipstick you got from your favourite brand. A sudden shit-eating grin spread across your face and Jihoon instantly knew where this was headed to. 
“You know, Jihoon, what else is pink”
Jihoon groaned, “oh my god, not you too! Not again!"
You giggled at his reaction, “your underwear Jihoon! You wear pink underwear, don't you? Little pink panties?”
Jihoon groaned, burying his face in the throw pillow on the couch. As you continued teasing him, he snapped. 
“God, y/n, I don't wear pink underwear,” he whined loudly, suddenly standing up, “should I show you or something?”
Your eyebrows quirked. “Why not, show me the proof.” There was a glint of mischief in your eyes. Jihoon should have known this was a bad idea. But he was tired of all the teasing already. He hastily untied the knots of his grey sweatpants and pulled them down to his thighs, revealing his slick black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. 
Your eyes widened. And the colour of his underwear wasn't the reason. It was the big bulge at his crotch which you couldn't take your eyes off. Your mouth watered at the sight. “God, Jihoon,” you were speechless. 
Suddenly shy again, Jihoon attempts to pull his pants back up, but you stop him, your hand on top of his as you move closer. He definitely has a really big dick hidden in there for the bulge to be that big.. And he wasn't even hard. Well, yet.
Your free hand moves and cups his crotch. Jihoon flinches but doesn't push you away. Instead, a soft moan leaves his throat before he could think. “Y/n what are you-”
“What fucking monster kind of dick you have in store here, Hoonie,” you can feel his dick come alive under your hand, the bulge growing as if it wasn't massive already. You palm him through his boxers. His hands fly to hold your wrist, stopping you. He really will just cum already if you keep doing that. You look up at him with a pout. 
“I want it,” you demanded, as if you were a little girl asking for candy or ice cream. Not able to hold himself back, his hand briefly looses over yours and you take the opportunity to instantly pull down his boxers, freeing his cock as it springs up, hard under your attention. 
“Oh my god, hoonie, it's so pretty,” you say, taking Jihoon's cock in your hand, examining it as though it was your first time seeing one. It was a pretty thing indeed, thick and long and only slightly darker than his fair face. It was a pretty shade of pink at the top and the purple veins prodded throughout the length. Its shape was just perfect, not too wonky or long and drippy or ugly. It was the kind of dick every girl sees in her dreams and every artist draws for their characters.
Jihoon, on the other hand, was trembling. Two minutes ago, you two were bickering. Now you had his dick in your hand. A shudder passed through his spine and he let out a whine as your tongue suddenly lapped over his head. “Y/n, you-”
“Shh, baby, sit down on the couch. I cannot stop myself from tasting this cock.” It was like you were hypnotised by his cock and he by you. He sat on the couch, his underwear and sweatpants pooled at his ankles. He opened his legs wide, giving you space to kneel in between as you take hold of his cock again. 
You lick over the length again, dragging your tongue along the veins, making Jihoon moan and groan and grab a fist of your hair. You loved when he pulled, the sting making your panties damp. You take the tip in your mouth whole sucking on it slowly. 
You try to take his dick deeper in your mouth, holding your breath as you do, before his cockhead touches the back of your throat, and it's just half way there. You forced your gag reflex to soften as you took him as deep as you can, wrapping your hand around the rest of it. You suck on it, hollowing your cheeks, feeling encouraged by all of the filthiest noises you head jihoon make. 
His hands grab your head, not pushing or pulling, but just holding it as a support as you commit yourself to giving the best blowjob you might have ever given. Your pussy feels so wet at the thought of taking this monstrosity in it. You can't take him today. You're gonna need training for it. But jihoon will help you stretch out for him. And then he'll fuck you till you can't think about anything other than his dick and how well it's fucking you. Your clit throbs. God, you're so cockdrunk over him.
Your other hands come to play with jihoon's balls, who seem big and heavy from his cum. He's close already, you can tell. So you suck on it till he's cumming down your throat with a whiny shudder, his hips tutting up in your mouth reflexively. You drink in all of his cum, the bitter-sweet malty taste making you only want more. 
Jihoon's panting. He just recieved what would be the best blowjob of his life. God, you should be put in a porn film with skill like that. His head falls back, catching a breath, as you climb on his lap, giggling as you lean in to kiss him. It's messy and wet and filthy, but he loves it. He could still taste himself on you. He wraps his arms around your waist.
It's all because of Soonyoung. 
He started the pink underwear rumours, spread it to you, had you tease him and it led to this. He's thankful to his best friend for it, but he wouldn't say it. He might write a nice song for him though as a thank you.
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ventismacchiato · 4 months ago
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O8 stuck with you — im on top (of you) !
scaramouche x gender neutral reader
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The day you had been dreading was finally upon you.
“Stop looking so sad,” Yoimiya sighs as she looks over to where you were slumped on the floor of the recording studio you guys were in.
“My beautiful voice…mixed in with his,” you shuddered at the mere thought of his vocals sullying the album.
“Quit being so dramatic,” Lumine chastised, reaching over to get you off the floor. 
You look over to where Scara was similarly slumped on the floor, staring into the wall as his group members conversed around him. Looks like he wasn’t too into the idea of recording with you either.
“You guys ready?” Albedo asks, walking in carrying a stack of papers as he walks past you guys to the soundbooth. The young blonde had been one of the company’s producers since you’d debuted. He reminded you a mix between Kazuha and Xiao, quiet but managed to get his artistic vision across.
“You two,” Albedo gestures to you and Scara, “I was instructed to get you both done quickly before working on the group song.”
“Jean really slotted all this time and took into consideration how much Scaramouche and Yn bicker,” Fischl muses.
“What are we singing?” Scaramouche asks, flipping through the page of lyrics Albedo handed you both.
“A love song,” Albedo answers, hooking a pair of headphones onto his head, “Let’s just try it out and see what needs to be added, go on then.”
He gently pushes you into the recording booth as you both tug on your own pair of headphones.
You eye the lyrics as you tug the microphone closer to you, wincing at the implications behind the words.
The first few attempts were disastrous to say the least. Scaramouche kept criticizing your timing and you kept pointing out how he was overpowering the track. Albedo’s patience, which was unbelievably high if he worked with the likes of you, was wearing thin as you both argued over every line.
After a take that finally sounded decent Albedo gestures for you two to come out of the booth.
“Are we finally done?” Scara asks.
“That sounded pretty good to me,” Childe pipes up.
“If you guys had collaborated earlier we would be drowning in so much money right now,” Venti sighs dejectedly. 
“Almost,” Albedo answers, fingers flying over his keyboard, "I just need you both to moan,” Albedo deadpanned.
“What?” Scara slowly says, like he’s on the verge of strangling Albedo by the neck.
“Before you say anything just listen to this clip.”
You couldn’t even process anything before Albedo was hitting play and your gentle voice mixed with Scara’s came out of the speakers, followed by some harmonies by Aether and then Xiao that he’d added in later. It all sounded good as they all harmonized together, but even you could feel that something was missing.
“So, you need us to do what ?”
“Moan, so I can use it as backup vocals,” Albedo hummed, twirling a pen with his fingers, seeming nonchalant about what he was asking of them.
“Fuck no,” Scara says, jutting a finger at you, “Why do I have to moan on the same song as them.”
“I don’t want to either,” you huff as your members erupt into a fit of laughter behind you. The traitors.
“It’s just my suggestion,” Albedo says, putting his hands up, “Just try it out.”
“I don’t get paid enough for this, how am I supposed to moan with Yn next to me?”
“I get dried up just looking at you.”
“The world gets dry from looking at you.”  
“You should have no trouble faking a moan, since it’s probably what everyone you’ve ever slept with has done.”
Albedo snaps his fingers in front of you both.
“I don’t care how you do it, just harmonize a moan or two for me,” Albedo says, pushing you both back into the booth, “I would like to go home early for once.”
“We won’t be able to see you,” Albedo adds, “So feel free to do whatever helps you get out the best moans.”
“Gross,” Scara called out as Albedo shut the door behind him.
“I’m going to kill myself,” you mumble as you tug the microphone towards you once again.
Scara glares at you as you both stand in the booth, the microphone between you two a symbol of your forced cooperation. You can feel the tension radiating off him, and it's not helping your own nerves. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
"Let's just get this over with," you mutter, avoiding Scara's eyes.
"Fine," he snaps, crossing his arms. "But don't think for a second that I'm happy about this."
You roll your eyes. "Yeah, well, neither am I."
There's a long, uncomfortable silence as you both stare at the microphone. Outside the booth, Albedo is watching, his expression expectant. You glance at Scara, trying to gauge his mood. He's scowling, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something like hesitation.
"Look," you say, trying to sound reasonable in an attempt to get this over with. "Let's just do one take and see how it goes. If it sounds terrible, we can convince Albedo to scrap the idea."
Scara raises an eyebrow, but after a moment, he nods. "Fine. One take."
You both lean towards the microphone, your faces inches apart. You can feel Scara's breath on your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You close your eyes, trying to block out the awkwardness, and focus on the task at hand.
Taking a deep breath, you let out a soft, hesitant moan. It feels strange and embarrassing, but you push through, hoping it will be over soon. Beside you, Scara does the same, his moan blending with yours. 
Scaramouche’s moans would usually sound like a sexually-transmitted disease: gross and something that you’d never touch with a fifteen-foot pole, but for a moment, it created an unexpected harmony.
Albedo's voice crackles through the intercom. "That was... actually not bad. Let's try it one more time, but with a bit more feeling. Scara, go a bit lower.”
You both go through the motions again, and you try to ignore how Scara’s moans sound so resonant through your headphones and the heat on your cheeks from making such an intimate sound beside him. 
Albedo’s voice comes through the intercom again. “Perfect. That’s exactly what we needed.”
You sigh with relief, tugging off the headphones as fast as you could and slipping out the booth.
As you and Scara step out of the booth, you're immediately met with the smirking faces of the other members. They're lounging on the studio couch, looking far too amused for your liking.
Childe is the first to speak, a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Well, well, look at you two. Didn't know you two were that freaky."
Lumine snickers, giving you both a mock round of applause. "That was hot. It felt like I was interrupting.”
“I hope you all die,” Scara says from beside you before turning to Albedo, “And you’re a freak for suggesting that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Albedo hums, already tuning them out as he has his headphones back on.
"Alright, alright," you say, trying to change the subject. "Can we please focus on something else now?"
Venti stands up, stretching. "Fine, fine. But you know we’re never going to let you live this down, right?"
“I’m personally going to buy several copies of this album,” Yoimiya giggles.
“I hope Albedo makes you guys do something embarrassing,” you huff.
"No wonder you're still a virgin if you sound like that when moaning,” Scaramouche says, smirking as he slips past you to sit on the couch. 
“Shut up,” you grumble.
“Can’t even defend yourself,” Scara taunts.
“Lot of talk for someone who also hasn’t gotten laid in a while,” Aether whistles.
“Whose side are you on, Aether?!”
//
Later that day
“Let’s just get this over with,” you sigh as you follow your members towards the studio.
“I’m excited,” Venti hums, skipping ahead of you.
“I’m surprised at how quickly they pulled this together,” Xiao comments, opening the door for you, “It’s like they’ve been waiting for you two to fuck up.”
“Which you have, several times,” Lumine unhelpfully pipes up from behind you.
“I’m so sick of you guys,” you grumble, accepting your fate.
As you walked into the studio, you could only stare in disbelief at the high ceiling, the windows that took the length of the walls letting in the evening light, poppy color mottled across the sky as the sun quietly set behind you. Wealth practically drips from the room as you look around. You never even used this space for your album photoshoots, since you guys never needed such a big space for just you six.
In one of the corners you spotted a large camera standing tall in front of a white backdrop, the ground adorned with roses and petals. The white-pink petals fluttered in the wind as the fans in the corner caused them to float throughout the studio. The reds and pinks jump out against the white. It was sickeningly romantic. You wanted to throw up at the implication.
You spotted Jean talking to Scaramouche, who looked like she was giving the other a pep talk before she spotted you and waved you over.
“Yn! We were just discussing the photoshoot, Lisa will instruct you two after she’s done talking to the crew. I need to go chat with them, you two stay here and get ready,” Jean rushed out, calling over some stylists to fix you guys up, already out of breath as she dashed over to Lisa. 
“You’re late,” Scara says as his greeting as a group of women start fussing over your guys’ hair and outfits.
“You’re early, tryhard.”
“Not your best comeback,” Yoimiya whistles from a few feet away.
“Alright you guys,” Lisa calls out, walking over to where your groups were gathered getting touched up, “We’re going to get the group shots over with, then some solo ones, and we’ll separate to do some pairing shots.”
//
They all stood together awkwardly as they waited for the staff to finish setting up the cameras, once they finally did they led the group and positioned them. For group pictures they had all the girls stand to one side and the guys on the other, so you guys were in a crescent moon shape. Right after you all separate, the girls in another set and the males in a different one. 
The cameraman moved and adjusted everyone for what felt like a hundred dozen times before he finally clapped and positioned you guys to take the picture. He had you hold a pose where you were sitting on a bench and leaning on your side for what felt like forever, you would surely gain some sort of back pain from this. 
The most awkward part was the solo photoshoots. Even after becoming an idol you still felt awfully awkward when doing them, but when it was just your members you could manage. But being in front of Scara made you feel extra self conscious. 
People like Aether and Childe had a blast, and all the girls seemed to be enjoying it. But you felt quite embarrassed as you were told to pose seductively and show more skin. You weren't alone in this predicament, since Xiao and Kazuha seemed to be having a tough time as well when they were forced to manspread on some seats. Scaramouche became complacent and let the cameraman adjust him accordingly, he even went along with the whorish poses Lisa was having too much fun making them all do.
“Doesn’t Scara look good manspreading half naked like that?” Venti whispers in your ear.
You jump, startled as you stare back at him in disdain.
“No,” you scoff, “Stop ogling him.”
You’re still still stuck on the fact that Scaramouche is shirtless and actually has a decent build. Yes, it's objectively hot—something that you’d admit under the pain of getting an arm hacked off—but it's also quite insane.
With the group photoshoot finished, they all bid farewell as they separated off into their own corners to do their paired shots. 
“Alright, Scara and Yn you guys are going to be in Set B,” Jean stated, gently pushing the two of them in that direction. You look and spot the dreaded set where it looked like cupid himself threw up.
You both trailed behind the cameramen over to it, trying your best to not step and wilt any of the flowers artistically placed on the ground. 
“Okay, I’m in charge of you guys!” Lisa grinned as you guys approached her, “I’m going to have so much fun with you two.”
“Not too much fun,” Scaramouche grumbles as you both go to stand before the camera.
“Scara, don’t be a prude and unbutton your shirt. Yn, I need you to lay down,” Lisa instructs, walking over and pushing you down until you’re laying down on the petals. You were still reluctant at the fact you would have to do a paired photoshoot with Scara, so your reaction time was still quite slow. Lisa eventually just adjusted your body as needed and bent down next to you, spreading out your hair and laid some petals on it, standing up to admire her work. 
“Scaramouche, you’re gonna hover over them and hold that position for a while, and when I say next you lean in as if you’re going to kiss them. Is that alright?” Lisa asked, already heading back to the camera and having the cameramen adjust it lower to capture them in the frame. 
“If I say no, does that do anything?” Scara asks.
“No! Now get to it!”
Scara mutters a curse under his breath as he begins to unbutton his button up. You catch a glimpse of his bare skin before he’s kneeling down to knees and crawling over you, placing both palms on either side of your head and leaning forward. Since he couldn’t just hold a plank over you forever, Scara placed one knee in between your legs and another one beside your left leg for stability. 
Your breath was hitched in your throat at the proximity, you could see every detail of Scara’s stupid face and makeup from underneath him. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to how intimate you both were being right now, you’d never been underneath someone like this before. Unless you were being pinned down by Lumine during a fistfight of some sort when you accidentally ate her food. 
“Yn! Put your arms around his neck!”
You flinched at Lisa’s yell but did as you were told and wrapped your arms around Scara’s neck, bringing him closer as you did so. There wasn't anywhere to look but at Scara’s eyes, which felt awkward and weird in itself, so you opted for your eyes to wander. But they landed on his lips instead, which wasn’t any better.
Scara’s dark eyes bore into yours, his gaze not wavering as you looked everywhere but at him. That was before you realized this was a literal photoshoot and adjusted your eyes back to him. 
“Both of you, stop glaring!”
Scaramouche sighed above you, before forcing himself to soften his gaze towards you. It felt odd to be looked at like an equal by him.
You study Scaramouche closely, now that you’re forced to. He has these lips that are plush pink and they meet just barely like the slightest touch would coax them open. His eyelashes are long and there’s a beauty mark just shy of his eye coated over with concealer. His ears are small and there’s an assortment of earrings hanging off of them, ones he never wears during practice. He’s stupidly pretty. It makes you want to punch him.
“Alright, hold for ten then move to the next position.” 
Ten seconds? That felt like hours due to the way Scara was looking down at you, a fabricated gentle gaze in his eyes as he eyed you up and down. 
“Next!” 
“The faster we comply the faster I can get out of this stupid position with you,” Scara huffs, his voice barely above a whisper before he leans forwards and hovers his lips right above your jaw. Your body instinctively moves its hands to run through his hair, as if you both were actually going to kiss. God forbid.
“Cut!” 
The lights dimmed and Scara immediately pushed himself off of you. You slowly sat up, dizzy from the stress of being that close to someone you disliked.
“I’m the one who had to hover over you and you’re tired? Pathetic,” Scara huffs, reaching down to roughly tug your arm so you’re standing and almost immediately letting go of you after.
“Don’t you think this is a little too much?” Scara asks, walking ahead of you towards where Lisa was looking through the photos
“We made everyone do paired shoots, see!” Lisa says, turning the screen to show you. 
You and Scara scroll through to see all your members in pairs like you both, but none of them are quite like yours. 
“So Venti and Aether got to pose in a car and we had to fake a kiss?” Scara scoffs, “Where’s the delete button–?"
Lisa yanks the camera from him before he has the chance and shoos them off.
“I’ve got enough from you guys, go get your makeup undone.”
“This is so dumb,” you grumble as you follow behind Scara. All of this work because you both couldn’t keep your mouth shut during an awards show and now you had to fake being in love with the idiot.
You pray to Buddha, God, and whatever other deity out there that was most certainly laughing at you, that you can manage to get along with Scaramouche before anyone does notice it’s all fake.
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stuck with you!
masterlist — prev | next
when i say moans i mean like the song Mmmh by KAI like do u see the vision
also the album cover can be you or one of the other members depending on what ur comf with 😇
pls ignore how is it fake is listed twice 😔 also the lyrics are from taylor i can see you
yk the drill comment on the masterlist if i can use ur user and make u a fan
synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!
notes sorry guys for the long wait i was lowk goin thru it but im back 🗣️
taglist closed — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @kazuhasbabe
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some-bunniii · 9 months ago
Text
Lucifer in love with an artist reader
・❥ There’s only one good way to start the day… pancakes and ice cream.
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
warning: mild swearing
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You were awoken by something shifting against your chest. You stirred, adjusting slightly as you lay on your side. 
You let the covers slide around you, the cool touch of the pillow beneath your face made you smile sleepily. That’s right, you were in your bed snuggled warmly beneath your sheets. Which is not where you remembered falling asleep last night. 
Does that mean everything that happened yesterday was just a really weird dream? 
If it was, it was the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. And, it seemed a little too crazy to be real. Being thrown off a balcony and being seconds away from shooting a man, all in the same night, was not a usual day for you. 
Your brain was still foggy with sleep, and all you wanted to do was burrow your face farther into the pillow and drift off. Except, that pressure on your chest was making it hard to.
“KeeKee.. please, not right now..” You mumbled into the fabric, your voice laced with drowsiness. There was no response from the feline, but the form shifted slightly besides you, as if to nuzzle closer to you. 
Sometimes you’d find her sleeping beside you, but that was pretty rare. Even so, you weren’t going to let her ruin your beauty sleep. With gentle movements, you slowly slid your arm forward, and your fingers brushed against soft hair.
Your palms hit a firm surface beneath the silky strands. Did KeeKee always have this long of fur? Did she gain weight too? You only ignored your suspicions, and slowly pushed her off your chest, farther across the bed. Sighing happily, you pulled the covers closer to you, embracing its warmth. 
You felt something stir beside you, and the warm figure snuggled back into your chest. You groaned softly, you were too tired to take this attitude from the cat.
Lifting your arm again, your fingers quickly reached up and grasped the warm silhouette. This time, however, you let your hand travel down the form. Until you halted suddenly, your fingers grazing against something smooth and hairless. You didn’t remember KeeKee having any bald spots.
Slowly, you felt farther along. You could feel curves in the surface, cracks even. 
What in the worl-
“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?” a voice grumbled sleepily through your fingers. 
Wait a second. There was a person in your bed?!
Your eyes shot open, the curtains thankfully covering the morning light from blinding you as you jumped out of the covers. Instinctively, your leg shot forward, kicking the stranger right in the side. He was sent tumbling off the bed with an audible “oomph,” and a heavy thump reverberated around the room. Followed by silence. 
You kneeled on top of the bed, heart pounding as your nerves settled. You blinked, you had recognized that voice. Had that been Lucifer?! 
You hurriedly crawled across the bed, your head peeking from off the side of it as you peered below you. Laying face down, was the familiar naked back of the fallen angel. His blonde hair messily spread across the wooden floor as he lay there motionless.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!” You yelled down to him. He stirred, his head nodding slowly under the hair. 
“You know, not too bad actually. Believe it or not, i’ve taken harder falls.” He mumbled against the wood. 
Lucifer shifted, rolling onto his back. He looked up at you, before blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked totally fine, if not tired from the sudden awakening. A few rays of the morning light beamed through the window, casting some of his features in a red glow as he watched you. God, he was gorgeous. 
“I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed, what happened?” You asked him, slowly sitting up from your position. He mirrored you, lifting his torso from the ground. 
“You didn’t expect us to sleep in a chair all night, did you? I’d be cracking my back for days if that was the case. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so I couldn’t bother to wake you. But yes, I moved us to the bed.”
“So yesterday was real..” You whispered, 
“Uh, yeah. I killed a bunch of scumbags and saved you from becoming a splat on the pavement. Yesterday was definitely real.” 
Lucifer sat up fully, before getting to his feet. He stretched, raising his arms above his head before opening his mouth up in a yawn. He was already dressed in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants as he strolled to the bathroom. Did he put those on using magic?
You stood from the edge of the bed, quickly walking to your dresser and pulling out a casual outfit. You began slipping it on, before turning towards the open bathroom door.
You watched Lucifer’s back flex slightly as he bent over to wash his face in the sink, your eyes drinking in his figure. Lucifer looked nothing like the ancient paintings visualized him to be. Your brain immediately recalled the image of Alexandre Cabanel’s famous painting, ‘The Fallen Angel’.
It depicted Lucifer as wide-shouldered, toned from head to toe with thick muscles. Nice calves too. Yet, standing here before you, he embodied an angel much more than he did in that painting. Elegant, serene, otherworldly. 
Like how the candlelight perfectly illuminated his pearly-white skin, as if he was being basked in moonlight. Or how his touch was like velvet sheets against your skin, soft and delicate as he ran his fingers down your waist. 
He exuded a certain feminine grace, that enraptured you when those pretty eyes of his sent you looks of adoration as you rambled about your current fixations, or gave him more lessons in art history. You smiled warmly at the thought, he was precious to you, no doubt. 
“You know what, I’m thinking.. pancakes! We’ll finally put that big kitchen downstairs to use and make some breakfast.” Lucifer broke you out of your thoughts, as he walked up to you, pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Damn, did he change without you even noticing again? 
You smiled as he approached, the thought of food making your stomach growl. You were unbelievably hungry, seeing as there wasn’t exactly time last night to stop for a meal. 
“That sounds like a good idea, we’ll get everyone else in on it too and eat together, a big hazbin-family breakfast.” 
Lucifer nodded as he turned away from you, his eyes scanning the room. “Which reminds me, that means I can give Charlie the tuxedo…” He trailed off, turning to you slowly, a look of panic on his features.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, growling at himself. “I must have left the bag with her suit back at the club! Ugh, I'm such an idiot.” 
“It’s still early, it won’t take you more than a minute to get across the city. Go get her a new one.” You commanded, pointing towards the balcony doors in your room. 
Lucifer followed your finger, and then nodded quickly. “You’re right, I’ll go do that.” Quickly, he adjudged his bow-tie, before heading for the doors. 
It wasn’t until his hand was just inches from the handle, did you see the rather large reddish-purple mark sticking out from the crook of his neck. Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as you realized what exactly caused the bruise. How did you not notice that before?! 
Quickly, you ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face you. “Wait! You.. well-you, um… got something on your neck?” 
He regarded you for a moment, confusion written across his face. “Something.. on my neck?” 
Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly reached up to grab the top of his shirt. On even further inspection, and a slight adjustment of his collar, you could make out the fainted curved indents of teeth marks along his collar bone.
Did you bite him that hard last night? You shouldn’t have done that. What if Charlie saw it? That would be so awkward. 
“From.. last night,” you finally uttered, “when I got a little carried away.” 
Lucifer’s gaze narrowed, and then they widened slightly as he understood. A smirk tugged on his lips as he backed away from your grasp. “So?” 
“What do you mean ‘so’? It’s not normal for people to be walking around with hickeys all over them for everyone to gawk at!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.
“Why, so they won’t know I had you screaming my name, drenched on top of that table?” He asked, motioning towards the very same dining table that you had been laid over in pure bliss the night before.
You quickly averted your gaze to stop a mental picture forming, and instead met his eyes. Sending him a glare for his bluntness. Walking across the room, you bent down and pulled his overcoat from the side of your bed. Brushing off any dirt, you made your way back to Lucifer.
Silently, you wrestled him into the white garment. He stood there and watched as you adjusted his tall collar, trying your best to hide any love marks. After a little more fussing, you felt satisfied with your work and stepped back. 
“There, you’re ready to go! Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go remind everyone that I am alive.” You spoke. Last night, Lucifer had told you Angel Dust had been dropped in the lobby. It was late enough where everyone should have been asleep, and since nobody came to look for you after that, you assumed Angel had passed out and was probably working through a nasty hangover somewhere in the hotel.
You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, before nudging him towards the balcony doors. He turned, pulling them open and crossing the threshold. You stood in the entryway, watching him stroll to the black, metal railing. He glanced over the side, contemplating for a moment.
“Now, watch how the pro does it.” Lucifer teased as he turned to face you, his back leaning against the railing. With a little boost, he flipped himself backwards and vaulted over the metal bars. Your eyes widened in shock as he began to fall.
Right as his feet left the balcony, you ran to the railing peering over the side as you watched him plummet to the ground. Beneath him, a large, golden portal swirled alive waiting for him. 
He waved up to you just as he crossed it, the portal swallowing him up and vanishing without a trace. You smiled, shaking your head at his little performance before turning back towards the doors. 
For a few more minutes, you were busy tidying yourself up and trying to look presentable. You quickly squeezed some soap out of the little yellow ducky on the sink counter, and washed your hands and face. Soon, you noticed you were also adorned with a few love marks from Lucifer, and you sat in front of the mirror trying to hide them the best you could. 
Feeling satisfied with your work, you turned away and headed for the doorway that led into the rest of the hotel. Grasping the handle, you slowly cracked the door open, peeking your head out slightly as you listed.
You could hear loud voices down the halls, in the direction of the lobby. There were multiple of them as if everyone was gathered in the same room, you exhaled a breath before straightening. Time to face the music. 
Heading down the stairs, you strolled through the hallways. The voices became more and more audible as you closed in on the large, open room.
“-and then, I looked behind them and there was this guy all bloody and shit, pointing a gun right at Lucifer! I barely saw anything else happen b’for I was sucked into this.. golden portal or something.” Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the lobby, as he retold the events of last night. He was standing in front of the T.V, the residents of the hotel listening from the couches circled around him. They leaned in, engrossed in his story. 
“Next thing I knew, my ass hit the floor right here. God.. I was just so out of it I practically passed out where I was. I don’t remember seeing either of them after that.. hey! you!” Angel’s eyes widened as he noticed you walking towards them. Suddenly, the entire hotel’s gaze was locked onto you.
Charlie quickly shot up from the couch, hurrying over to you. She scanned your figure, searching for any injuries as you stopped before her. After noting nothing serious was wrong with you, she took your hand, gripping it tightly. “Where have you been? Angel just told us everything that happened! Are you okay?” 
“Don’t worry, I'm fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.” You assured the princess, smiling at her. Turning to the spider-demon, you scanned him for any injuries as well. “How about you, Angel. Are you okay?”
“Pfft, yeah. I’m okay. Just a lil shaken up, especially after watching you almost get shot. It seemed you got a good sleep, though.” 
“Wait, you’ve been here this whole fucking time. Did anyone else know that?” Vaggie called from the couch, crossing her arms as she stood up. 
“I did. They’ve been here all night.” Nifty spoke from the floor, her single eye staring into you. 
How did she know that? Did Nifty.. hear anything?
“Uhm.. yes, that’s right. Yesterday was just rough. So, I went to sleep right away.” You answered, lying through your teeth.
“And my dad?” Charlie questioned.
You shrugged, “I have no clue.”
“Well, at least our dear friend is back safe and sound!” A familiar voice exclaimed from next to you. You jumped slightly, turning to see Alastor and his award-winning smile as he looked at you. “Charlie insisted that I come find you, but I assured her you are capable of handling your own affairs. Especially, with our lovely king to protect you.”
You smiled slightly at him, “Yes, indeed. I’m sorry for not coming to see you guys sooner. I just got.. distracted.” 
“With what?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. You paused, before opening your mouth to speak.
You weren’t able to get a word out before you heard a thumping coming from the front doors of the hotel. Everyone turned towards the noise, and through the stained glass, you could make out the silhouette of a rather tall hat peeking from the bottom of the glass.
“Well, ain’t that a little too good of timing.” Husk grumbled from the bar, as he leaned over the counter to get a look at the doorway. You silently agreed, that was fast. 
Charlie recognized the familiar figure as well, and quickly ran to the door. She yanked it open, and there he was. Lucifer stood, adorned in his full outfit, a pink bag in his hand as he strode into the room. Next to you, you swore Alastor’s grip on his cane tightened. 
“Charlie, good morning! How are you doing, sweetheart?” Lucifer beamed as he embraced her, who accepted the hug gratefully.
“I’m good, dad. But, what about you? I heard what happened! Did you kill people?” She eyed him with a firm stare, as if in disapproval of his actions.
Lucifer shrugged, “Only bad people, I had to protect your spider-friend over there. You should keep a better eye on him.”
“Apparently,” Charlie sighed, glancing at Angel behind them before turning back to her father, “and where have you been?”
Lucifer’s gaze momentarily landed on you, and you shook your head slightly. ‘Don’t say anything about it,’ you commanded him through your eyes. Especially not with everyone in the room, hungry for more information. 
“Oh, wellllll, I was just in town and snagged this for you!” Lucifer lifted up the pink bag, a nervous smile on his lips as he held it out for Charlie to take.
Eyeing it curiously, Charlie gently took it from his hands. She peered into it, her eyes widening as she reached in and lifted the garment from its wrapping. 
It was that same red suit that you had eyed through the glass display the day before, gold lapels shimmered in the light above. It was very beautiful, and you thought it would look good against Charlie’s ivory skin. 
Charlie didn’t say anything, instead, she just stood there. The tuxedo in her grip, opened fully to reveal the entire garment. Her fingers lightly trailed down the front of it, grazing across the buttons and textured sleeves. Her eyes were unreadable, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite place.
“Did you.. buy this for me?” She asked after a moment, looking up at Lucifer. He met her gaze, seemingly a little nervous from her reaction. 
“Well, you said the one you had was getting a bunch of wear and tear, so I thought that would look perfect on you. Do.. you like it?” 
“I love it!” Charlie exclaimed with glee, she set the suit aside and pulled her father into another bear hug. “Thank you so much! It's wonderful, especially since it’s from you!” 
Lucifer exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, he tightened his arms around her, trying to capture every second of her loving gesture in his hold. He smiled warmly, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tear up. 
He didn’t, instead he pulled away, straightening his back. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before looking back at Charlie. The adoration in his eyes was on full display, and if anyone ever doubted that the mighty king didn’t love his daughter, you’d slap them.
Adjusting his collar, Lucifer turned towards the group of onlookers. “Now, who wants some pancakes?” 
Everyone seemed to perk at that, and Nifty hopped from her spot next to Alastor, raising her hand in excitement. 
“As long as they are sssstrawberry pancakesss!” Sir. Pentious declared as he rose from his seat, slithering towards the swinging doors, where the large kitchen lay behind. His little eggs waddling after him, a chorus of ‘oh boy!’s rose from the shells.
“Cmon,” Husk beckoned Angel Dust as he left the bar, “Let's get something in your stomach to fight that hangover of yours.”
“Oh, yes please” Angel smiled, joining the bartender. Even Alastor seemed interested in joining them in the other room, as he slowly followed behind the group. 
“I’m kinda feeling waffles today.” Vaggie spoke up, her hand entwined with Charlie’s as they walked. 
“We can make whatever you wish,” you responded, smiling at her, “except, maybe not eggs. At least with the company we’re keeping.” 
Pushing open the red doors, the flooring shifted into large, white marble tiles. The room was stuffed with cabinets and pantries, multiple fridges also dotted its perimeter. Long, creamy-white stone countertops lined the walls, as well as a large kitchen island in the center of the space. 
There was an empty space on the other side of the room, big enough to hold a large dining table and chairs. It was actually a great place to do something like that, but where could 
Behind you, Lucifer was pulling different ingredients out of the fridge. The shelves were surprisingly well stocked, even the pantries above as he continued to pull out items of importance.
“Dad, shouldn’t you take off your coat?” Charlie asked beside him, as she tied an apron around her waist. You tensed, slowly pivoting to their direction.
Lucifer halted, a box of baking powder hanging in mid-air between his fingers. His gaze snapped to you, then back to Charlie. You were desperately hoping no one could see the sweat beading down your forehead.  
“You’re right,” Lucifer started, as he placed the baking powder on the counter, “I can’t cook with such loose sleeves.” 
He snapped his fingers, and it seemed like the coat began to melt against his skin, shifting into a white turtleneck. The long neck sleeve covered the hickeys that peppered the sides of his throat, continuing to hide your previous entanglement. And, damn, he looked really nice in that outfit too. 
Tying on a red apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. After pulling up his sleeves, Lucifer began to pull out mixing bowls and other utensils. 
“Just you wait, Charlie, after today you’ll never want anyone else’s pancakes again. My recipe is the best there is.” He spoke, puffing out his chest slightly as he addressed his daughter. 
Charlie only laughed softly, pulling out a box containing waffle mix as she sidled up next to her dad. “I don’t doubt that one bit!” 
As the two continued prepping to cook, you turned to grab an apron of your own. As you walked to the wooden hooks hanging on the wall, you took note of the others around you. 
Angel, Husk, and Sir. Pentious huddled together over another counter, a carton of milk and a jar of strawberry jam laid in front of them.
“How ‘bout we make ya some strawberry milk while we wait, snake boy?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips. Sir. Pentious nodded quickly, his hood raised in happiness. 
Using a tablespoon to take a few scoops out of the jar, he plopped them into an empty cocktail mixer that he borrowed from the bar. Pouring in the milk, he placed the lid on the mixer, before handing it to Husk. 
With a few shakes—and a couple of party tricks consisting of him catching the mixer behind his back, and spinning it across his forearm—the lid was popped off, and Husk poured the bright pink liquid into the glass cup in front of Sir. Pentious. 
Both demons clapped for the bartender, who smiled proudly at the reaction. Sir. Pentious gingerly lifted the glass to his lips, before taking a small sip. After a moment, eyes lit up, a large smile on his face.
He took another large gulp, before thanking Angel Dust and Husk for the drink. 
“Oh, and don’t forget about my egg boisss.” Sir. Pentious turned to Angel Dust, pointing at the small group of eggs looking enviously up at the drink in his claws. 
Angel looked down, his eyes darting to the ingredients in front of him, before he simply shrugged. “Alright, who’s thirsty?” 
“I would like some, please!” Frank yelled excitedly, the eggs behind him jumping in place with large smiles on their faces. 
Angel Dust chuckled, turning away to grab more glasses. Husk was already preparing the scoops of jam, licking a small mess of the red foodstuff from his claws. 
Grabbing the apron from the hook, you adjusted it to your figure, tying it tight behind your back. Next to you, Vaggie was holding a knife in her hand. She was looking down, a firm gaze aimed at Nifty.
“No, Niff. This is not a place to run around with a knife. You can get it back after breakfast.” 
Nifty’s shoulders drooped, a frown on her face as she walked away. She passed by Alastor, who stood silently, watching the bustling group of demons. Wasn’t he going to join in? He was technically part of the Hazbin family. 
Slowly, you approached him, and his gaze snapped to you. His smile widened as he turned to you, the cane at his side rolling between his fingers. 
“Ah, hello there, my friend! Good to see you alive and well, ha-ha,” His eyes squinted as he tilted his head at you, “what can I do for you today?” 
“Don’t you want some food? We’ll be cooking soon. It doesn’t have to be breakfast, I think we have enough here to make whatever you want.” 
Alastor actually contemplated your question for a moment, his eyes staring off in thought. “Hm, well, there was something I had in mind, but the seasoning it needs is not in my possession anymore.” 
“What happened to it?” You asked curiously.
“I simply gave it to someone more in need of it than I. Hopefully, she’ll be putting good use to it.”
A lady friend? You wanted to ask about this ‘someone’, but felt prying wouldn’t get you anywhere with the mysterious overlord. Instead, you beckoned him to follow as you walked towards the counter space Lucifer and Charlie were situated at. 
You both stopped at the creamy-white marbled island. On its surface, was a large recipe book and different ingredients spread across. Alastor had to like something here, even if it wasn’t a decaying deer.
“Let’s see.. we could do french toast, yogurt parfaits, breakfast burritos, oh! We even could make hash browns! What do you think?”
Alastor bent down to look besides you, his eyes scanning the pages. He opened his mouth to speak, before his gaze snapped to another demon coming into view.
“Darling, i’ve finished the pancake mix. I was thinking you could…” Lucifer stopped, locking eyes with the Radio Demon. A frown formed on his lips, and his brow furrowed. “Oh. It’s you.” 
That smile Alastor held widened, as he straightened himself and turned towards the fallen angel. You grimaced, not again.
“Your majesty! What a pleasure to see you this hellish morning, I apologize for not being able to greet you when you arrived earlier.”
“A tragedy.” Lucifer responded mildly, before his eyes settled on you. 
“Well isn’t this nice! The four of us, all working together to make this breakfast special.” Charlie appeared besides her father, a smile on her lips as she tried to lighten the situation.
“Yes, I was just asking Alastor what else he thinks we should make.” You nodded along, before turning to the demon for his input.
“It appears your menu contains a less-than-ideal amount of meat, my friend. Perhaps, some bacon roll-ups? They were a staple for meals back in my days on earth. Very simple as well, just cream cheese, bread, and bacon!”
You were aware of what he was talking about. They were made by putting cream cheese on a slice of bread, before using a strip of bacon to roll it into a ball. You’d spear it with a toothpick and bake it for about twenty minutes, and wala, an odd delicacy.
“That is a great idea! Isn’t it, dad?” Charlie asked, nudging her father with her elbow, prodding for a response.
“It sounds kind of gross.” 
“Dad!” Charlie turned, a slight growl in her voice. “Say something nice!” 
“Bacon is much better than venison, though!” Lucifer quickly responded, following his daughter’s demand. You place a hand to your face, sighing at his antics. A hint of smile played on your lips as you walked forward, pulling Lucifer away by the arm.
Charlie turned back to Alastor, their conversation inaudible as you walked away. You went to the opposite side of the kitchen, where the bowl full of pancake batter lay. Flour messily covered the countertop, 
“You two need to learn to get along, you bicker like an old married couple.” You said after a few moments.
Lucifer shot you a look, visibly distraught by your comment. “That guy gets on my nerves! If it weren’t for Charlie liking him so much, I'd smite him.” 
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you teased, leaning against him. You both sat there for a few moments, silently indulging in each other's presence. Later, you’d ask to seek his company in the privacy of your room. For now, you pulled away, grabbing the mixing bowl.
“So, what did you need my help with?” 
“I thought you’d like to give the pancakes a little.. shape,” he started, turning towards the stove and spinning the dial, “use that artistic talent of yours and make a delicious masterpiece, hm?” 
You perked, he wants you to make pancake art? What a wonderful idea! This was something you have never done before, but you’ve seen enough videos to imitate it. “I’ll go get some dark food coloring, and another mixing bowl.”
Lucifer began placing pans onto the stove burners, placing small amounts of butter in each. They sizzled as the pan began to heat. You stood besides him, slowly stirring the batter as you hummed to the tune of ‘innsbruck, I must leave thee’ 
Soon, Lucifer was humming the notes as well, and you smiled warmly as the two of you stood-by-side, drowning out the other’s chatter with your little tune. 
Nearby, Vaggie and Charlie were giggling to each other as they placed the waffle mix into its designated maker. Small bowls of different fruit and syrup spread around, as they prepared the toppings. 
Alastor stood beside them, a large cooking fork floating mid-air in front of him. Small tendrils snaked around the utensil as it occasionally lowered to the pan in front of him to adjust the bacon. 
“Hey, Al! Why don’cha give us a table over here so we can have somewhere to eat?” Angel Dust called, a stack of plates in his hand. The egg bois stood patiently around him, each holding a set of silverware and napkins. 
Alastor turned to the spider-demon before humming a confirmation. Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers. A large oak table materialized from a cloud of green smoke, a long, red table-runner rolled free as it hung slightly off the edges.
Chairs seemingly rose from the floor like the undead, rocking slightly as they settled around the table. The egg bois rushed forward, clumsily climbing up the chairs as they began placing the silverware. Using his extra arms, Angel quickly placed the plates down, before doing the same with the glass cups. 
Husk raised Nifty by the waist, allowing her to reach over the table and pour the different liquid contents into their respectable glasses. 
Strawberry milk for Sir. Pentious and his bois, water for Alastor, and chocolate milk for Vaggie and Charlie. Apple juice filled Lucifer’s cup, and your favorite drink was topped to the brim right next to his.
In front of you, two bowls of batter laid beside the stove you stood at. One was a dark brown, the other a much lighter shade. 
You had cleaned two ketchup bottles, before slowly pouring in the different batters and filling them full. Using the bottles, you’d make batter shapes on the pan, and use the lighter shade to fill in the lineart.  
Right now, you were attempting to make the outline of a duck—who would have thought?—for Lucifer. It was coming out surprisingly well, in your opinion. The lines were rather smooth, and the beak looked like a beak so all seemed good. 
You switched bottles, ready to begin filling in the pancake. Before you felt someone sidle up behind you, fingers grazed softly down your back with familiar warmth.
“What are you doing now?” Lucifer peeked from behind you, getting a glimpse of your work. You moved over slightly, inviting him in front of your cooking easel. 
“Take a guess,” you smiled next to him, “I figured you’d want something cute to start off your day.”
“Well, it seems you made it too cute to eat.” Lucifer pouted, as he stared at the little pancake. You laughed, reaching for a spatula and gripping the pan handle with the other hand. 
“And it’s too cute to let it get cold and then throw it away.” You spoke, lowering the spatula into the pan. You shimmied it underneath the pancake, before flipping it quickly. As it landed, the image of the duck became much clearer, the lines flat and smooth. 
“I’m just glad you love me enough to combine my two favorite things.” Lucifer smiled, before he nuzzled his cheek softly against yours. You moved your head slightly, letting your lips graze against his cheekbone. 
Looking down at the pancake, you lifted it slightly to check whether it was done. Seeing the golden-brown hue, you lifted the ban from the burner. Slowly, you slid the duck-cake onto the finished pile. 
There were two plates of hot, delicious pancakes. One was simply everyday pancakes, which Lucifer had made. Yours on the other hand were handcrafted  Each one was a unique shape. There was a smiley face, an octopus, a butterfly, a fish, and now, a duck. You smiled proudly at your creations. 
Picking up the plates of pancakes, the two of you walked towards the dining table. The egg bois were already seated, and the others were finishing up their tasks.
“Finally, let’s eat!” Vaggie called towards the group of demons slowly gathering around the table. Charlie picked up a few waffles from the stack, and placed them on a few plates. 
Vaggie appeared next to her, a small plate of french toast in her grip as she too began moving around the table. 
Alastor set a large, flat dish in the middle of the table. Small toothpicks stuck out of the bacon wraps, steam wafting slowly from the interior. Nifty reached out and grabbed one, placing it on her plate.
You turned towards the pile of pancakes, grabbing a spatula to begin setting them on a separate plate before Lucifer slid beside you, watching your movements.
“I’ve got this, Darling. You go sit down.” He nudged you away from the plates, towards the table. You sent him a warm smile, before turning and taking a seat next to Sir. Pentious and Husk. 
“Saved a seat for me, did’ya?” Angel Dust smiled at Husk, before plopping down into the seat next to him. He had a large fruit bowl, a multitude of sliced colorful produce nestled together.
“Only because you’d bitch if I didn’t,” Husk replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drank from his glass. To be honest, this was the first time you saw Husk take a sip of something that wasn’t alcohol. 
Charlie lowered the large plate of remaining waffles onto the table, before brushing her hands against her apron and walking to her own seat.
“Dig in, everyone!” she exclaimed, her smile infectious as she served herself a stack of french toast.
Nifty’s eyes widened in delight as she took a bite of the bacon wrap, while Sir Pentious marveled at the designs of your handcrafted pancakes.
“Here you go, little lady.” Lucifer bowed slightly to Nifty, setting down the steaming tower of pancakes in front of her. She clapped her hands with giddy, before turning to Lucifer and giving him a pat on the cheek.
“Good boy.” She teased, before bursting into giggles.
Lucifer’s smile faltered, and he leaned back. He chuckled nervously, backing away to grab more food. He quickly walked around the table, before setting waffles onto each of the eggs boi’s plates. They licked their lips hungrily, as they stared down at the delicacy in front of them. Lucifer stood up, a hand slowly reaching behind his back.
“A good friend of mine told me you boys fancy ice cream, is that right?” He looked at Frank, who nodded his shell rapidly. Lucifer grinned cheekily, as he pulled forth a large tub of vanilla ice cream.
“Well, good thing for you, nobody said you can’t mix a little dessert with breakfast once in a while.” 
The egg bois practically went berserk seeing the holy grail of yummy deliciousness. They vibrated happily in their seats as Lucifer scooped a large glob on top of each egg’s waffles. It began to slowly melt, running across the waffles surface like syrup. 
He stepped back, as the eggs began to devour the food on their plates. Mumbling a thanks through their full mouths as Lucifer strode away, grabbing pancakes for himself.
He sat down across from you, his eyes moving from the scene around him and then on to you. He stared at you for a moment, while you were busy stuffing your face with the food on your plate. After a moment, you met his gaze. 
“Food too hot, or something? You keep staring at me.” You teased, tilting your head at him.
“It’s just hard to tear my gaze away,” he spoke, “when there is something much more delicious in front of me than the pancakes on my plate.” 
Your cheeks heated, and you averted your gaze, reaching out to grab a bacon wrap. You twisted the toothpick between your fingers, and inhaled the scent as it wafted from the small bundle.
It wasn’t too bad, and you were about to take a nibble before you saw Lucifer’s watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he only sniffled in response.
“You’re going to eat his wraps before you eat my pancakes?” He pouted, lowering his head in mock-defeat. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took a fork and cut a small piece of pancake from the rest. Taking the bacon wrap, you stabbed the other end of the toothpick through the small square. 
Lifting the bacon-pancake duo to your lips, you pulled them from the toothpick with your teeth. You swirled it in your mouth, your eyes rolling back as the flavors burst on your tongue. 
When you looked back at Lucifer, he was staring intensely at you. A smirk playing on his lips, before he sighed dramatically. 
“Now what is it?”
“Nothing.. just thinking about how that could be me.” 
You burst out laughing when those words left his lips, shocked at his sudden bluntness. Sir Pentious turned to you, giving you a look of worry as you almost choked on your food. 
After a moment, you cleared your throat. You sent Lucifer a glare for almost killing you, and he only chuckled before turning his attention from you.
Charlie, who had been sitting a few chairs away, turned to you. She smiled warmly as she spoke, “thank you for helping us with this. I really liked your butterfly pancake!”
You returned the smile, nodding your head. “It was no problem at all, I think we all deserve to have a good meal surrounded by friends. It’s you who brought us all together, so thank you.”
Charlie blushed at your words, before turning her attention back to Vaggie. Who was talking to her about an idea regarding the hotel. 
You looked around the table, taking note of the smiling faces and cheerful conversation. Alastor was helping Nifty cut some of her pancakes, his precise strikes with the knife seemed familiar to that of cutting steaks.
Sir Pentious was handing his eggs each a piece of french toast, helping them drown it in syrup as they sat there happily. Slight traces of ice cream still around their mouths.
Angel Dust and Husk were busy picking fruit from the bowl, with Angel making some kind of lude comment as he watched fruit juice dribble down Husk’s chin. Who only growled and playfully swatted at the spider-demon.
Your gaze stopped in front of you, resting on Lucifer. He had finished almost his entire plate, and now was resting his chin against his knuckles. His elbow rested against the table, and he shifted slightly to tilt his head at you. 
“Well, what do you think? Would you have preferred breakfast in bed?” He asked, taking another sip of his apple juice.
You shook your head, smiling at him. Contentedness spreads across your features as you let the food settle in your stomach. 
“No, I could get used to mornings like this,” you spoke softly. 
Lucifer nodded, his fingers reaching out to graze yours. You laced your index finger with his, and tapped his knuckles softly. 
“Yeah, me too.” 
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who doesn’t enjoy some fluff about cooking with your lover? just pure fluff today, but i hope you guys enjoyed this! :)
sorry about that long wait, forgive me 🙏
taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @kottenox
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imagines4thefandoms · 3 months ago
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In Love with the Tats
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(This has been in my drafts for a long time)
Warning: Lots of smut
summary: Henry comes home still wearing fake tattoos from his latest movie.
Henry Cavill is a kind and loving man. He is the real-life Superman. And he’s British so he’s automatically very polite and nice to everyone. He looks like an actual bear with all those muscles but he’s really just a giant teddy bear who requires cuddles to function. He usually plays good guys in the movies cause it's who he is. 
Which is why the world lost its mind when Mission Impossible: Fallout came out. Henry “king of nerds” Cavill was a bad guy. Seeing him betray, hurt, and kill was out of pocket and extremely hot. And you were not expecting it. When you started dating you told him not to give you any spoilers from his movies. You wanted to get the whole experience when you saw it at the premiere. Sometimes it backfired like in Dawn of Justice when Superman died, and you were caught off guard but he brought you tissues cause he knew you needed them. And when you got married that promise was in your vows. Maybe cause you told him you would divorce him if he spoiled anything for you. 
So when you watched your husband who can’t hurt a fly try and destroy the world and kill millions, you got turned on. Seeing a darker side of him was very attractive. And every girl can tell you how villains are a lot more attractive than heroes. So when you got home from the premiere you jumped his bones. And for the next 24 hours, you two rarely left the bed for longer than 5 minutes. The phrase fucking like rabbits could have legally changed to fucking like Cavill’s. 
After that when he would look over scripts his agent sent him, you would help him and pick out the role you liked (spoiler if he played the bad guy you liked it). He auditioned for the roles you liked cause he could never say no to you and you would never steer him wrong. And he got the role. You did your civic duty to the world and Henry Cavill was going to be a bad guy again on the silver screen. 
And now while he’s filming you spend all day with your favorite Cavill, Kal. You had gotten a text from your husband saying filming was running late and he wouldn’t be home in time for dinner which didn’t bother you at all. You made a simple pasta dinner and left it on the table cause you didn’t want to eat without him. Usually, when he runs late he gets home around 10 or 11 instead of 6 and you had a big lunch with friends so you didn’t mind waiting. While you waited for him to come home you and Kal sat on the couch watching The Office (American edition). It was the episode with Asian Jim so you were dying laughing over Dwight's reaction. Suddenly the front door opened and you felt a kiss on the top of your head, cause you were too busy to look over at who walked in the house. Though you knew it was Henry. 
“I could have been a robber,” he lightly scorned seeing as the front door was unlocked.
“Well then the robber could finish the episode with me and then take our things,” you teased still not looking at him. 
“You are a pain, love,” he said taking off his jacket and locking the front door. 
Kal, your nice warm cuddle buddy, jumped off the couch and ran to Henry excited that he was home. You turned to scorn your husband for causing your furnace to leave when you took in his appearance. 
“What is that,” you asked him noticing how he was covered in tattoos. Like COVERED. His neck, both arms and his knuckles had ink. 
“I didn’t want to keep the makeup artist there any longer and I told them to leave them til tomorrow,” he explained rubbing behind Kal’s ear. 
When he was met with silence he looked over at you and noticed you were staring. He immediately thought you were turned off. 
“I’ll try to get us to wrap earlier tomorrow so they have time to take it off,” he says grabbing Kal’s leash to take him on a walk. 
“You don’t have to,” you said staring at the tattoo on his neck and biting your lip. 
It suddenly clicked in his mind that you were very much turned on. He smirked at your reaction and bent over to whisper in your ear. 
“I'm going to walk Kal and when I get back I'll show you the rest of them.”
“There’s more,” you gasped finally bringing yourself to look him in the eye. 
He simply replied with a nod and walked back out of the house to walk the dog. Henry might have been gone for only 10 minutes but seeing how you were suddenly very hot and bothered it felt like hours. You were too antsy to move from your spot on the couch and could not for the life of you pay attention to the antics of Jim and Dwight. When Henry finally came back, he sent Kal to lie down in his bed in the living room and threw you over his shoulders to bring you to the bedroom. 
“You are not helping my situation,” you cried out as he threw you on the bed. 
“I'm not in a helping mood,” he replied taking off his shirt. 
His chest was covered in tattoos and scars. There was no bare centimeter of skin. You got on your knees and slowly ran your hand over the art. When you reached his navel he turned around and showed you the back. There was a cross with a rose intertwined with it and blood dripping from the stem. You turned him back around and placed one hand over the skill on his chest and your other hand covered the flames on his neck and brought him down to you for a very firm kiss. His hands went to your waist and he laid you down hovering over you. As soon as you got your legs out from under you they went around his waist to bring him closer to you. The kiss got very heated and sloppy. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck. Your hands alternated between gripping his hair and scratching his back. 
He pulled himself from you and removed the shirt you were wearing leaving your chest bare. He kissed your nose then your lips then your neck and kept traveling til he was right above your shorts. You whined as he slowly took off your shorts and peppered your hips with kisses. When he finally took your shorts off he kissed the inside of your ankle and slowly went up til his nose brushed against your very wet cunt. 
“Hen, please,” you cried as he just kept kissing your inner thigh and letting his mouth hover so close but so far from when you needed him. 
“Where do you need me,” he asked bringing his face back up to yours and staring into your eyes. “Here,” he asked placing a kiss on your neck. You shook your head no. “here,” he asked kissing between your breasts. 
“No,” you cried wiggling beneath him. 
His hands gripped your hips causing your movements to cease and his lips brushed over your right nipple. “Here?” You again shook your head no. and he did the same to your left nipple. He asked the same question and got the same answer. He continued to kiss down your body, your stomach, hips, knee, and ankle but still wouldn’t touch you where you needed him. 
“If you don’t hurry up or I’m going to do it myself,” you cried out. 
“No, you’re not. You are mine, your kisses are mine. Your tears are mine. Your whimpers, moans, and pleas are mine. And for damn sure your orgasms are mine. No one, no toy, not even these beautiful fingers can bring you the pleasure I can,” he said kissing the tip of all ten of your fingers. “They can’t fill you or stretch you the way I can. You will forever be unsatisfied, empty, and cold without my fingers, mouth, and cock to fill you and keep you warm.”
His mouth finally hovered over where you needed him. He could see and smell how turned on you were but still hesitated to do anything about it. “Say it. Say no one can fuck you like I can. Tell me you are mine,” he said staring at you. 
You wiggled and cried and gasped at the feeling of his hot breath on your cunt. You tried to close your leg to get a little morsel of relief but his hands gripped your thighs and forced them open. 
“Say it,” he said again this time deliberately blowing directly on your clit. 
“Fuck. I’m yours only yours. No one can ever fuck me as good as you do,” you cried trying to close your legs again but not moving them an inch. “Please Hen I can’t take it.”
“Good girl. I’ve got you just relax,” he said before attaching his mouth to your aching cunt and eating you out like a starved man. 
His tongue traveled from your clit to your vagina and back again. He started sucking on your clit but his eyes never left your face. He watched as your eyes closed and face contorted with pleasure. Your hands gripped his hair and you were either trying to pull him away or pushing him in more you didn’t know but a groan left his throat causing you to fall over the edge and cum in his mouth. 
He lapped up the juices and sat back and just admired the mess between your legs. He used his fingers to spread you open so he could get a closer look. He spits in your very exposed cunt and then goes back to eating you like you were a whole meal at a 5-star restaurant. You cried and screamed his name when his teeth gently grazed over your clit. Before you could even come down from your first orgasm the second one hit like a ton of bricks. Your hips lifted off the bed and you screamed his name but he still wasn’t done. When your legs stopped shaking he finally removed his mouth and bruised your lips with a kiss. You let out a moan when you tasted yourself on his lips. 
You opened your eyes and noticed his were filled with a lustful/predatory look. He gently pressed kisses on your nose and lips causing you to laugh. His hand traveled from your neck to your left breast then down til his fingers stopped between your legs. 
“I'm not done with you princess, that was just my mouth. We still have my fingers,” he said pressing two into you without warning causing you to gasp. “And my cock,” he said placing a small kiss on your neck. 
“Fuck Hen,” you cried turning your head away from him. 
“On no princess, I said those are mine. You are going to look in my eyes as you come undone on just my fingers,” he said turning your head towards him.
You couldn’t say a word so you just nodded as your response. He thrust his finger in and out of you so slowly that it was almost painful. “Faster please,” you whined running your hands through his hair and bringing his lips against you. 
“Too impatient, you that much of a whore you can’t wait to drench my finger,” he asked picking up his speed. 
“Oh yes,” you said both at the new pace and his words.
“Yes, what,” he asked pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. “Fuck you taste exquisite.”
You whined at the now empty feeling seeing as you were so close to cumming again. “Yes, I'm your whore please.”
Satisfied with your answer he plunged his fingers into your agains and was fucking you with such a brutal pace that tears fell from your eyes. “That’s my good girl. You're doing so well for me. You're taking my fingers so well, should we add another,” he asked rubbing your clit with his fingers. 
“Yes, Daddy please.”
He inserted another finger and stretched you out. Henry stroked your face when he saw you wince in pain. 
“It's okay baby, Your pussy was made for me. I can feel you gripping my fingers. Do you wanna cum,” he asked kissing your ear. 
“Please,” you whined. 
“Let go, Daddy’s got you,” he whispered. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”
The knot in your stomach broke and a wave of ecstasy filled every atom of your body. His finger still fucked you through through your intense orgasm. When you came down he once again removed his fingers. He brought them to your lips and gave them a little tap. 
“Clean my fingers, taste how sweet you taste,” he said looking at you. 
You sucked your cum off his fingers like there was no tomorrow while your eyes never left his. Once you were done he removed his fingers from your mouth and got off the bed to remove his jeans. Out of instinct, you got on your knees in front of him. He unbuckled his pants and pulled both his jeans and boxers down. You were about to take him in your mouth when you noticed more tattoos on his hips and all over his legs. 
Your fingers traced the dragon that covered his entire right leg. From his ankle to his hip. On his left thigh was a wolf’s head with trees around it like it was a forest. Henry let out a growl seeing as were were quite literally leaving him hanging. 
“It's not fun is it,” you retorted letting him think your were punished him for leaving you high and dry earlier. 
“Either you take my cock in your mouth now or I shove it down your throat and fuck you so hard you can’t speak,” he threatened gripping your throat and forcing you to look up. 
You pressed your legs at the thought of him fucking your mouth with such force. He noticed you squirm and he laughed. “You want that, don’t you. You want to wake up tomorrow with a sore throat and remember how I used you for the slut you are.”
You nodded your head and his hands gripped your head and he just stared into your eyes. “Then open up,” he said before he shoved his dick down your throat causing you to gag. Once the shock was over you tried to suck the soul out of him. 
“Fuck,” he moaned as your nails dug into his thighs.
He kept fucking your mouth and made sure that every inch was in. He brought your face to the base of his cock then pulled out completely to give you a breath. His thump traced your lips and pushed the drool from your chin back into your mouth. “My beautiful wife.” Your mouth fell open waiting for him to shove his cock back down your throat. Henry let out a laugh before giving you what you wanted. The pace he was going was brutal but beautiful at the same time. 
You watched as his face scrunched in pleasure at the feeling of your mouth. The sound of his balls slapping your chin filled your ears making your legs squeeze together. Henry’s hands cradled your face as he forced his cock as far down your throat as he could reach and he just held you there. When your tongue ran over the vein on the underside of him he quickly pulled himself out. 
“If I’m going to cum anywhere,” he said pulling you to him, “it’s going to be in this pussy.”
Henry’s hand stroked you clit one more time before he gently pushed you down on the bed. You tried to scoot up to the pillows but, Henry grabbed your ankles and dragged you back down til your ass was almost off the bed. He brushed your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your nose before plunging deep into your aching cunt. 
“Fuck,” you yelled dragging your nails down his back. 
Henry pounded into you at an alarming pace causing you to slowly move up the bed. “I'm gonna,” you yelled before his lips attacked yours. The orgasm ripped through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably and your bones felt like mush. But Henry didn’t stop. His pace was speeding up like he was chasing his own pleasure. 
“I can’t,” you cried moving your head side to side. 
“Yes, you can baby. Just one more,” he said kissing your shoulder. “I'm almost there, you’re doing such a good job.”
Your head is still shaking from the overstimulation. His hands went from your waist to your painfully throbbing clit. “Please,” you cried when he roughly pinched it. He ignored your cries and just focused on your clit. You tried moving away but his other hand moved to your throat. “I know baby. But I know you have one more. Please I need you,” he pleaded as his strokes slowed down. You slowly nodded your head and he forcefully kissed you again. He removed his hand from your throat and went back to your thigh. Henry gave you a little squeeze before moving your legs over his shoulders. 
At this angle, you could swear you felt more of him. He slammed into you over and over again. “Cum with me baby,” he said bending you practically if half so he could kiss you. His movements stopped and his head fell to your shoulder as he came. “Fuck,” he yelled once he emptied his entire load. He stayed in you for a minute to catch his breath. 
“I love you,” he said whipping the sweat off your brow. 
You winced when he slowly removed himself. “I love you too,” you said when he walked into the bathroom to get a washcloth. When he ran the warm cloth over your abused cunt you flenched in pain. “Fuck, did I hurt you,” he asked kissing your knee. You shook your head and pulled him up to you. “Just very sore. Can you just hold me,” you asked.
He rolled off you and laid on his back with his arm extended waiting for you to move at your own pace. While your head rested on his chest, he rubbed small circles on your lower back. 
“So you want me to keep these tomorrow too,” he asked mumbling into your hair. You let out a laugh and slapped his stomach. “God no, I can’t survive another night like this tomorrow,” you said moving to look up at him. “But definitely next week,” you said with a smile.
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zombholic · 1 year ago
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MILF ABBY WITH READER WHO HATES KIDS HC — abby anderson
description — milf!abby, reader who isnt that great with kids, age gap, reader is around mid twenties and abby is late thirties going on forty, smut, mdi !!,
authors note — literally all my creds and inspo goes to @elliespassagerprincess i literally love their milf abby series pls go read it !!
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— You and your friends know that you do not have a single motherly instinct in your bones, you and kids do not mix well together.
— This one time you were just strolling while shopping and a toddler came up to say hi to you and you just stared at it wondering what to do.
— If there’s a child screaming at the top of their little lungs you literally give it a death glare.
— You also call children “it” and make everyone laugh every time you talk about a kid.
— But if it wasn’t for Abby’s six-year-old daughter Melanie who came up to you one day at a your local grocery store crying like snot bubbling at her nose and she looked sticky trying to hold your hand you wouldn’t have met your future milf wife.
“Oh, uh hi— why are you crying?” You let the little child grab your pointer finger as you tried to hard to fight your inner demons from the stickiness of her little hand.
“I— I can’t find my mommy.” She used her other hand to wipe the snot off her face, you could feel every nerve in your body cringe. You felt bad for the thing but jesus why are kids so fucking sticky.
You and the kid sat on one of the benches inside the store, you bought her some candy to make it stop crying and it worked. You did inform an employee that there was a lost kid, they spoke on the intercom after telling you that if the parent isn’t here in a certain amount of time they would call law enforcement.
“So, what’s your name?” You pinched your eyebrows together looking at the small being next to you devouring the ring pop like her life depended on it.
“Melanie but all my friends call me Melly.” She gave you a toothy smile well … she was missing majority of her teeth so half toothy smile?
“That’s … nice? You have friends?” She shook her head, her two little braids looked like she got into a street fight.
“Yeah, a lot like a lot of friends, what’s your na—“ She was cut off by a woman’s voice calling out for her.
“Melanie!” Both of your eyes shot up at the… holy fucking fuck she was breath taking.
— You found out that her name is Abby and she has a little escape artist for a child, she hugged you tightly with those giant arms thanking you for keeping her baby safe.
— Abby was truly taken back by how beautiful you are, she was quick to tell you she’ll repay you and managed to get your number while doing so.
— You guys ended up bonding really fast, even though you two were almost complete opposites she was so fascinated by you.
— She invited you over to dinner at her house and fuck was she loaded, not like you were in it for the money but damn must be nice.
— She genuinely found it so amusing how you would interact with Melanie, treating her like a little adult. You weren’t the type to use baby words towards kids you just spoke to them.
— Melanie really resembled Abby to the T, she had her mom’s blue eyes, freckles, the cutest nose but she had blonder hair, you just assumed it was from the dad.
— After months of basically hanging out with them you guys felt so inseparable, you still would give concerning expressions whenever Melanie would do something weird.
— Abby was falling in love you, whenever all three of you would watch a movie that Melanie always picked out and yes you did argue with a six year old about picking movies she would just have the urge to grab your face and kiss you.
— For halloween you bought Melanie an inflatable dinosaur costume with a pink tutu, you literally were crying from how silly she looked holding Abby’s hand.
— Abby was so reluctant to make the first move, scared that she was too old for you but little did she know how much it turned you on that she was older.
— You decided to ask Abby out on a date, you called her up while you were at home, heart beating out of your chest when she said yes.
— The date was at the arcade, cheesy but Abby always won you prizes every time you guys went with Melly. She beat at you literally every single game and being competitive you just glared at her.
— Melanie was at a sleepover at her friend’s home so you and Abby had the place to yourselves, after the date you guys were chilling in her kitchen Abby finally had the courage to kiss you.
“Can I please kiss you?” She looked at you with those pleading eyes, a slight whine to her words.
NSFW mdi NSFW mdi NSFW
— She pinned your back against the counter, her hand cupping the side of your face, the kiss felt so warm but soon became greedy.
— She carried you to her room, your legs wrapped around her waist, arms around her neck as you drove her fucking crazy kissing on her neck like that.
— Abby has a Daddy kink, she had her strap settled deep in your drooling cunt, legs on her shoulder, thrusting so fucking deliciously making you claw at her arms.
“Mmmgh— oh fuck Abby..” Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, knuckles white from the grip you had on her arms.
“Daddy, call me fucking Abby again and I wont let you cum.” She slapped your face, grabbing it with her hands squeezing your cheeks together.
God this wasn’t the sweet, motherly Abby you knew but some sex god who would fuck you so stupid it left you an incoherent mess.
— She had crazy stamina, had you in every position, face down with your ass up, riding her cock, your back pressed against her front as she spread your legs open drilling your bruised and aching pussy.
— She was so mean, she mocked your moans, bit your skin, slapped your tearful face every time you stopped looking at her. You couldn’t get enough of this side of her.
— She over stimulated you so much you were sobbing, trembling every time she would touch you, your legs shook violently.
Abby had her arms wrapped securely around your thighs, spreading them open so wide. Her tongue lapping you up, sucking on your puffing clit, sliding her tongue inside your sore cunt.
“Daddy please! Too much, s’too much, too much” You squealed, crying out trying to push her head off of you.
— After long hours of her using you, she was so quick to turn her motherly instincts back on. Kissing your face so sweetly, her eyes filled with worry that she pushed you over the edge.
— You reassured her that it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. She started a bath for you, sitting right behind you as she massaged your aching body, running her fingers over the love bites she left scattered on your body.
— She held you so tightly as you both had fallen asleep on her amazing bed.
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miraculouslbcnreactions · 6 months ago
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If you were to write Lila would you keep her being a con artist criminal with multiple identities but hinted at/revealed it earlier than S5 or would you cut that part down of her character entirely ?
It would really depend on how much space I had to fill. Gabriel is not the kind of villain that you can draw out forever. His story needs to have a clearly planned ending right from the start. In fact, I think they drew him out at least a season too long. So, if I also had to fill eight seasons, I could see myself going the Lila route. I'd just make a few changes. Off the top off my head, here's how I'd handle serious villain Lila as opposed to what canon wrote, which is petty school bully Lila who is entirely unbelievable as a serious villain.
First of all, Lila wouldn't be introduced at the end of season one. While her and Gabriel probably need to have some overlap, that's way too soon. In my version, she shows up at the start of season four and she'd be heavily toned down. We'd know that something was off about her, we may even keep the liar thing, but it would be a lot more subtle. Lies like, "Ladybug rescued me" and "I got to go backstage at a Jagged Stone concert" instead of "Ladybug is my bff" and "Jagged Stone wrote a song about me." Her goal would no longer be gaining peons, but instead gaining true close friends who like and trust her. The reason for this is that Lila is replacing Optigami as Mayura's last sentimonster.
See, season three ended with all those identity reveals and most of the revealed identities are in the same class. That's curious, so it makes perfect sense for Nathalie and Gabriel to want someone undercover in Adrien's class, but they can't do it. So Nathalie makes a sentikid of her own, gives her the power of manipulation, and sends her off to try to find Ladybug and/or Chat Noir by whatever means necessary.
This would give a clear reason for Gabriel to trust Lila, a clear reason for Lila to know all about the miraculous, and a clear reason for Lila to hate Ladybug. In this version, I wouldn't do Nathalie's lackluster redemption. Instead, Nathalie stays bad right up to her death. Perhaps her last act is getting the butterfly to her daughter and ordering her to get revenge on Ladybug and Chat Noir should Gabriel fail. After all, Gabriel can't wield more than six miraculous at once, so it makes sense for him to send Nathalie off with at least one of them while he enacts his master plan just in case it fails.
That's just one potential path to take. I also like the idea of having Lila be someone who came to Paris in order to find the miraculous, but who has no ties to the Agrestes. That would require some pretty big changes to her character, though, as I can't see that type of character caring about things like dating Adrien or being a model or all the other crap that has nothing to do with gaining a miraculous and everything to do with popularity and social clout. Lila canonically doesn't know that Gabriel even has a miraculous until the final of season four, so she basically just lucked into finding one instead of doing anything logical to find it because this show has no clue how to actually write smart, clever characters.
In summary, I'm totally fine with complex, master-manipulator Lila, it's just hard to figure out the best way to make her work when we don't know anything about her backstory or motivation. The version proposed above is just the best I can do to fit her into the role canon placed her in. A role I could easily see later seasons flat out ignoring.
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cindol · 6 months ago
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hi!! idk if your reqs r open but can I req the jjk men’s fav kinks?
JJK MEN AND THEIR FAVORITE KINKSᯓ★ !
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tw — smut,consent is given before hand in all scenarios, choso’s part is really rushed,
cw ꒱ ! — sub choso, choso is blindfolded, spanking, gojo is a little mean, gojo ties reader’s hands, pussy eating, sukuna is a clan leader, sukuna fucks reader in front of people, nanami’s hands and legs are tied,
synopsis — jujutsu kaisen men and their favorite kinks .
a / n : my inbox is very much open ! I guess I ain’t make it seem like it is but it’s very much open for request and any questions y’all ! but I hope u enjoy annonie
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CHOSO KAMO + PRAISE KINK + MOMMY KINK AND SENSATION PLAY !
At first he’ll whine at the confinements on his hands and eyes till he hears your soft voice in his ear.“shh.. relax baby, I’m right here.” while rubbing his thigh.
“mommy’s right here baby.” Hearing that makes the tips of his ears slightly flushed with a pink tint. He can’t even respond, just focused on your hands touching him from his thigh to his neck, placing gentle kisses on his neck down back to his chest.
Only moans and whimpers come from choso, when he’s in this state that’s all he can do instead of words. The only words coming from his mouth are.“mmph! Mommy please!” for the entirety of this. With how your wet lips touched and teased the tip of his dick he couldn’t be blamed for barely making coherent noises and words.
GOJO SATORU + IMPACT PLAY AND FOODPLAY!
Gojo loves impact play with you. Unlike some men who just like to spank their girl for punishment he does it for the fun of it. Seeing your ass turn a different slight shade from his spanking paddle as you were laid out on his lap satisfied him.
Hearing every gasp and moan come from you from each spank on your ass gets his familiar cocky laugh out of him. To give you a fake sense of comfort he rubs your ass in a smooth circle till he catches you off guard with a sharp spank again.“cmon babe you know me, I think you can take some more spanks.”
Food play is also a liking of his also. If he isn’t causing terror on your poor ass he’s treating you like his own dessert. His cherries, whipped cream and chocolate syrup never goes to waste.
On his bed you laid pretty on your back with your hands tied behind your back while gojo stood in front of you all he did was admire you with a whistle.”you look Mm.. how do they say in Spanish? Delicioso!”
His corny joke makes your cringe even in your restraints but he was right. On your body all drizzled on you was chocolate syrup from top to bottom, your tits having whipped cream topped with two blood cherry’s, even your private area having whip cream sprayed on top of it.
“You’re so childish satoru.. you’re lucky I actually love you enough to get this sticky ass sweet stuff on my body.”
Your words aren’t even being put into consideration for him, his eyes just on your body while he licked his lips like he found you delicious.“mhm mhm.. just let me eat you yeah?”
Before you respond he’s parting your legs,“artist gotta eat his art doesn’t he? Or however the hell it goes.” You just roll your eyes in a playful way at his corny joke.
The snarky expression on your face disappears once gojo licks a stripe of whipped creamed off your cunt making you gasp and squeeze at the bed sheets for some leverage for the mean time.
In big licks he licked stripes of the whipped cream off your pussy until he started to eat you out, making small kisses in between almost sloppy kissing your pussy.
Through your soft moans you tried speaking coherently but he made that difficult like he wanted to on purpose.“s-satoru slow down! or I might cum too early!”
satoru lifts his head only once to laugh.“exactly what the plan is.”
SUKUNA RYOMEN + EXHIBITIONISM !
a exhibitionism kink is a dangerous combo but it makes complete sense for a man like sukuna ryomen.
Ever since he saw how two of his clans men had a flustered face at one of the meetings at a visible rip in your kimono showing your thigh while you sat. It made him look more into kinks and he eventually discovered those kinks
He used the excuse of showing dominance to his clans men on what’s his but really he gets off on fucking the beloved woman of the clan knowing no other man could ever have this privilege.
In a spacious room usually used for clan meetings it’s instead used for erotic display of you. On the large stage as he fucked you with you arched on a soft cushion and one of your legs draped over his hip as support for his deep fucking of your wet cunt.
When he turned his head to see his men with flushed faces sitting on their knees and staring at the sight of each part of his wife’s body and breathy moans. a grin stretches on his handsome face at it.
“Watch men as I fuck what’s mine, and don’t dare to take your eyes off.” He treats this as a lesson for them just to show them what’s really his and his alone.
NANAMI KENTO + BONDAGE PLAY !
On rare occasions, nanami gives you the wheel to try and dominate. Of course you always fail even with him in bonds but still being the sweet man he is, it’s never not worth a try.
Nanami isn’t big on bondage, he’s not a big bdsm daddy, his arms and legs are tied to his own bed so he’s on display for you and the third leg he had was there for you too.
In front of him you were standing over him biting your nail with a smile slowly moving towards his body.“Mm.. Better hope you can hold out baby, this time I ain’t folding for you.” purring your words out as you got towards his body.
nanami had a feeling that was never true and just chuckled along.“I can handle whatever you throw at me I promise dear.”
It turns out he’s really right when you can barely take his dick even with him tied down. Hiccups and moans are pouring from your mouth as you ride him. It was always intriguing for nanami to see how the smile you originally had on your face thinking you really were gonna get him this time turned into a moaning one with your pouty lips all wobbly and your eyes rolled back.
For nanami, only his hair was a bit damp with some sweat running down from his forehead. He didn’t have some shit eating grin but a ‘I told you so’ smile while he watched as you struggled to dominate.
“P-please can’t anymore!” you moaned out your plea with your legs soon giving up with slower movements.
Nanami was a slight tease like he always was in this.“oh? Can’t anymore? Even with my hands tied baby.” a false disappointed sigh came from his lips.“need me to take the lead again hm?”
Your movements stopped completely with you nodding.“mhm…” your head laid against his chest for a moment.“But how are you gonna take the lead if you’re all tied up?”
a soft chuckle came from nanami and a head shake.“I think you misunderstand just how much power I can have darling.” using his hips he thrusted up into you getting a yelp and whimper to erupt from your mouth.
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hp-hcs · 7 months ago
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• smut • aurora boy-realis (stop talking) — soft! tom riddle x gn! artist! reader
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warnings: SMUT MDNI, no assigned sex-specific identifiers or anatomical terms, short and not really detailed smut but wtv, hella ooc tom for my delulu readers, like i cannot stress this enough he is ooc, i took canon and just chucked it into the garbage okay
i have had this sitting in my drafts, finished and ready to publish, for the last week now bc the imposter syndrome lowkey convinced me that i’m a terrible writer so anywhore enjoy this train wreck
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“Don’t move.”
Tom froze.
Your charcoal stick moved in broad strokes against the page, your eyes darting between Tom and your sketchbook.
“…Can I move yet?”
“No. Stop talking.”
You were probably the only person who could actually get away with telling Tom Riddle to shut up.
(He’d never admit it, but that boy knew damn well that he was whipped.)
~~~
Your charcoal-stained hands left dusty black marks on Tom’s skin.
His chest heaved under you. “Damn tease.”
“Stop talking.” Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, a spare pencil held between your teeth as you used his torso as a makeshift table for your sketchbook.
He wiggled impatiently as his fingers tightened on your hips. “Baby, please–”
You grunted, taking in a shaky breath as you tried to collect yourself from his sudden movement.
He grinned slyly at your reaction, jerking his hips up experimentally. His cock pressed in deeper.
You bit your bottom lip hard enough to bleed as you desperately tried to stifle your moans and keep yourself steady. “You’re an ass.”
“Maybe.” Tom gently pulled your sketchbook and pencil from your fingers, leaning over to carefully set them on the nightstand. “But you don’t really mind, do you, love?”
You grumble at the loss of your art supplies, pouting down at him. “Sometimes.”
He cupped the back of your head, gently rolling the pair of you over so that he was on top. “I’ll make it up to you.”
~~~
“Tom!”
“That’s it, there you go, honey. So good for me,” the boy in question murmured against the skin of your neck as his fingers slipped down to help you out.
His thrusts were slow and deep, driving you absolutely crazy. You couldn’t help but cup his face in your hands, stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs in utter devotion.
“Oh, Tom—”
“I’m here, darling. Let go.”
You came with another cry of his name.
~~~
Your paintbrush ran over the thin, raised pink lines that traveled across Tom’s back and shoulders—caused by your own fingernails just last night—and covered them with a thick coat of purple.
You were in your element here, circling around your boyfriend and chewing on your bottom lip as you worked on your masterpiece. You paused in front of him to survey your chef-d’oeuvre, smudging the lines of green and white that ran along his ribs and up between his pecs with your thumb a bit more until you were satisfied.
Tom stood shirtless in front of you, his entire torso—from the top of his neck all the way down to the waistband of his trousers—covered in a beautiful artistic rendition of the Aurora Borealis flickering across a starry sky.
You picked up your enchanted camera, lining up the shot before snapping a magical moving photograph of your boyfriend patiently allowing himself to be used as a canvas.
You set the camera back down, screwing on the lids of your paint jars and humming cheerily.
“Right. Well, you can go wash up now. Thank you, love.” You kissed his cheek, unperturbed.
Tom was baffled. Wash off this masterpiece? Destroy it like it was nothing?
“At least join me?” he asked with that damn pout of his that could make you melt on the spot.
Tom could always do that. He was your sun, your moon, and your stars; you’d gladly move the heavens just to see him smile.
(Plus, showers with Tom always ended in sex. Win-win.)
~~~
Blues and purples swirled in the water that pooled at your feet.
Pinks and greens stained your hips, your thighs, your throat.
Tom’s lips were pressed firmly against yours, moving slowly as the steady flow of water pouring down on the pair of you slowly grew cold. Tom pulled back solely so that he could look at you, taking you in.
Tom looked at you as if you were his sun, the very thing his entire world revolved around.
Like a deity, deserving of the entire galaxy’s devotion.
So, without another thought, Tom did what any sane mortal man would. He dropped down to his knees and began to pray.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
comments are always appreciated!!
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cxrrodedcoffin · 4 months ago
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Rock Me - Spencer Reid
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Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: Spencer decides to surprise Rockstar!Reader on the road after one of her tour stops, so they fuck each other’s brains out.
Word Count: 3.8k
A/N: I made my first custom fic header! I really wanted to capture the vibe I was picturing for this so I hope y’all like it! Decided to combine my love of music with my love for Spencer Reid, I was def picturing the vibes of The Pretty Reckless and In This Moment for the kind of band reader is the frontwoman of, reader plays the bass guitar because I always wanted to play bass when I was younger lol. Very short outro cuz I felt like it was getting a little too long lol, p.s. yes the title is a one direction song, fight me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
TW: sub!spencer, mommy kink, established relationship, lots of teasing, playfully mean dom!reader, degradation, pet names, unprotected sex, penetration, afab + fem reader, slight alcohol mention, cum eating, oral sex (reader receiving), handjob, typical criminal minds level violence at the beginning.
Rating: R, 18+
——
You were a force of nature. Spencer knew that from the moment the team walked into that concert venue in search of a serial killer targeting high profile rock musicians. Your voice captivated him, strong melodies reverberating inside his mind, snaking around his every thought, he was hypnotized like a sailor drawn to your siren song.
When the unsub ran on stage and held a knife to your throat, Spencer’s heart stopped, until you used the headstock of your bass to uppercut the criminal, forcing him to drop the knife and stumble back into your bandmate’s drum set. You weren’t going to wait for someone to rescue you no matter what you were ordered to do, your fate was in no one’s hands but your own.
That was the moment Spencer knew he had to have you, and he’d do whatever it took to see you as often as possible. He spent the next six months bouncing back and forth across the country, from whatever state the latest case was in to wherever your next tour stop was. He couldn’t get enough of you.
Now, as he waited anxiously on your tour bus with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand ready to surprise you, he found his mind wandering back to every dirty encounter the two of you had leading up to this. He catered to your every whim, falling to his knees to eat you out whenever you asked, in your dressing room before a show, in the bathroom on the moving tour bus, even side stage right after you’d just finished performing, smelling like smoke and sweat, ripping your fishnets so he could devour your cunt on top of an amp.
What the two of you had was utterly filthy, and he loved every second of it. You hadn’t given him the pleasure of properly fucking you yet, but that’s not to say you disregarded his pleasure all together, far from it. You loved to let him put on a show for you, sitting on the bench across from him on the bus as you watched his brow furrow, his large hand fisting his cock impossibly slowly as you talked him through masturbation, reveling in the way he whimpered when you finally gave him permission to cum, shooting a massive load all over his lightly toned stomach.
He felt free with you, like he could lull the constant noise in his head for a short while and just be whatever you wanted in the moment, whether that be a loving boyfriend who’d hold you and let you bitch to your heart's content about your in-ears malfunctioning during the show, or a mere tool for your pleasure, he was content.
But right now, he was really, really hoping you’d use him like your own personal sex toy.
-
You raised your bass in the air, screaming an enthusiastic ‘goodnight!’ into your mic before running off stage, desperate to rip your clothes off and cool down after sweating your ass off under the stage lights for the last hour and a half.
You handed off your gear to the sound techs before saying congratulatory goodbyes to your band mates, making as close to an irish exit as you could, shaking off any fleeting guilt you had about it knowing you’d do the whole thing over again together in a couple days when you arrived in the next city.
You grabbed your bag from your dressing room, taking a couple snacks for the road from the basket the venue provided in accordance with your rider before heading out to the bus, ready to take a cold shower as soon as possible. You yanked open the bus door handle, climbing the short steps into the central seating area, nearly dropping your bag when you finally saw him.
“Spence!” You cheered, a little too giddy to see your boy wonder. You quickly tossed your bag aside and straddled his lap, taking his face in your hands and crashing your lips to his in an open-mouthed kiss. Your tongue danced with his, desperate to taste him after two weeks of no physical content. Spencer had sent you as many tribute videos as you’d asked for while you were apart, but it just wasn’t the same as getting to feel him.
When you pulled away, the deep red of your lipstick was smeared across his plush lips, and you would’ve giggled if the sight hadn’t turned you on so much. He really was so pretty, you absolutely understood why his teammates nicknamed him pretty boy. You kissed him one more time on the cheek, placing a perfect kiss print on his soft skin before reaching for the flowers he’d brought you. You took in the fresh floral scent, admiring the flora for a moment before thanking him and getting up to put the stems in the neck of an empty liquor bottle in lieu of a vase.
“I’ve missed you.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around your waist as he watched your handiwork over your shoulder.
“Not more than I missed you.” You challenged, setting the makeshift floral arrangement on the small countertop. You turned to face him, your platform boots putting you right at his eyeline. He may have been taller than you but that didn’t stop the hold you had over him.
“It doesn’t have to be a competition.” He laughed, pulling you closer.
“But it does Spence, do you know how many times I got off stage and wished you were there to see the killer show we put on?” You were earnest, something only he seemed to be able to pull out of your usually headstrong facade.
“Ah, every show you put on is extraordinary, watching you is transcendent, you’re otherworldly up there, even on what you consider your bad days.” He praised, showering you with his famously flowery language. You felt a special appreciation for it, because despite the messy rocker chick stereotype, you held a life-long love of literature close to your heart.
“God, you are so whipped!” You teased, lightly pushing at his chest. Despite your deflection, the blush creeping across your cheeks showed him just how much his words meant to you.
“Maybe, but I know you love it.” He called your bluff and the back and forth was starting to stir something in you that needed attention, now.
“You know what I missed the most?” You asked, unable to keep your eyes off of his mouth.
“What?” He knew where you were going with this but needed to hear the words from your perfect lips.
“Seeing you cum all over your stomach live and in person.” Your sultry tone sent blood rushing straight to his cock, eidetic memory pulling clips of your mutual masturbation to the front of his mind.
“W-what if I came somewhere else tonight?” He stumbled over his words, having a hard time maintaining eye contact as he asked the awkwardly worded question.
“Like where?” You played dumb, exaggeratingly tilting your head and twirling your hair around your finger.
“Inside you.” He whispered, gaze locked on the wall behind you.
“Hmm I didn’t quite hear that, can you repeat it for me?”
“Inside you, I want to fuck you.” He blurted out, lipstick-stained cheeks burning bright red in embarrassment. You took his chin between your fingers, forcing him to look at you as you pondered your next move.
“I have a mountain of fan mail full of guys begging for the opportunity to fuck me, what makes you think you deserve it more than any of them?” You prompted, watching the way his features contorted in reaction to your somewhat harsh question.
“You’re being mean.” Tears started to well up in his eyes, brown irises glazing over as a lump formed in his throat. Despite how sad the thought made him, it also had his bulge straining even harder against his pants than it already had been.
“I know baby, but you’ve gotta prove how badly you want this, I’m not just going to give you the privilege without earning it.”
You could see the wheels turning in his head, no doubt debating what he could do to demonstrate his worth to you. His demeanor started to shift, holding eye contact as his shoulders straightened, practically puffing out his chest.
“I think I’ve already proven myself to you, given that you’ve cum on my tongue more times than you could count.” This sudden surge of confidence from Spencer was unexpected, but something about it had you hungrier for him than ever.
“Fair, although I do think that eidetic memory of yours gives you an unjust advantage.” You teased, a small smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. You took a step forward, closing what small gap was left between the two of you before bringing your hand to graze over his bulge. He let out a breathy whimper, pupils dilating as you applied slight pressure to his almost painfully hard member.
“I’ll do whatever you want, I just need you to touch me.” He breathed, bucking into your hand. You began to undo his belt, pushing him back until he fell back onto the leather bench. You loomed over him, low cut top giving him a face full of cleavage as you worked to slide his pants down just enough to free his aching cock. You moved to straddle his lap, sitting back on his thighs to leave ample space to toy with his member.
“Can you be a good boy for me?” You purred, starting to pump your spit-covered hand up and down his shaft.
“God yes.”
“Yes, what?” You stared him down, watching his lips part with a gentle moan.
“Yes Mommy.” The groan ripped from his throat, prominent veins framing his adam's apple.
“That’s right baby, let mommy take care of you.” You kissed his cheekbone, then his jawline, admiring the way your crimson lipstick contrasted against his pale complexion as you worked your hand over his cock, feeling every curve and contour of his thick veins against your palm.
“Take off your shirt.” You ordered, your free hand skirting under his layered vest and button-up to feel his abdominal muscles flex with every shallow breath he took. He did his best to quickly undress, lifting the vest over his head before shaky hands began unbuttoning each adornment, finally shaking off the garment and exposing his bare chest.
You trailed your kisses down his neck, peppering lip prints across his chest, stopping periodically to suck and nip until dark red and purple bruises bloomed over his skin. You could tell he was holding back, front teeth biting into his bottom lip to stifle his sighs.
“Spencer, I need to hear you.” You bring your hand to a stop, waiting for him to release his lip from the bite before starting up your movements again. You brought your other hand down to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you increased your speed, rotating your wrist to maximize the stimulation against his increasingly sensitive shaft.
The moans and whimpers falling from his lips grew louder, his mind abandoning all inhibitions as his approaching orgasm clouded his judgment.
“You’re so loud, the rest of the band is in the bus right next to ours, do you want them to hear how big of a whore you’re being right now?” You teased, snapping him out of his love-drunk stupor.
“I-I thought you wanted me to-“ He stuttered out, brows furrowed in confusion.
“You’re right sweet boy, I want them to hear exactly how good I make you feel.” You cut him off, a wicked grin spread across your face as you focused your movements on the tip of his cock, your thumb smearing the pre-cum dripping from his slit all over the swollen head. His moan caught in his throat, breathing becoming increasingly labored until one final twist of your hand had him falling over the edge.
“Mommy!” He cried out, his thighs flexing as thick ropes of cum painted his stomach. You slowed your movements just slightly, milking him for all he has. You took your free hand and picked up some of his spend on your fingers before bringing them to his parted lips, prompting him to suck them clean. He does as he’s told, utterly shameless about everything he does for you.
“You’re such an obedient slut Spencer, I love it.” You praised, pulling him into another heated kiss. You pulled away, watching him catch his breath and look at you like you hung the stars in the night sky.
“I think you’re ready for me, if you’re up for it.” His eyes went wide at your proposal, his heart feeling as though it could beat right out of his chest.
“Yes, yes, I just need a minute.” He panted, his cock already semi-hard again.
“Take your time sugar, I’m gonna take a quick shower.” You patted his cheek before rising off of his lap and walking to the small bus bathroom, stripping out of your black latex mini dress and shredded fishnets to wash off the sweat and body shimmer from your time on stage tonight. You didn’t bother removing your makeup, too excited to finally have Spencer’s perfect cock inside of you to waste any time.
He didn’t need to know how badly you wanted him, the cat and mouse game the two of you played was unlike anything you’d ever had before and it beyond satisfied you to know how much power you willingly held over him, and how much pleasure you mutually received from it.
When you finished scrubbing down you made your way to your small bedroom at the back of the bus, finding Spencer ready and waiting for you on your bed. He was laying nude on top of the comforter, messy strands of hair resting against his forehead, pillow sitting in his lap as he propped himself up on his elbows to watch for you.
“You’re so beautiful.” He greeted you, watching as you rubbed body lotion over your skin. When you reached your chest, you spent a little extra time kneading the lotion into your breasts, putting on a bit of a show for him. He loved all of you, that much you were sure of, but he always had a special appreciation for your breasts.
He’d find any opportunity to lay his head on your chest while you laid in bed together on your off days, watching Doctor Who and nerding out over through lines and plot holes alike. It was days like those that had you really falling for him, your souls finding ways to both mesh with and contradict each other in a perfect harmony.
“You’re too sweet to me.” You smiled at him, rubbing the last bit of lotion into your skin before walking to the end of the bed. You reached forward, observing as his eyes went straight to your chest when you bent over to pull the pillow away from his lap. His cock stood straight up, bobbing slightly. A deep blush creeped over his cheeks, his shyness endearing, especially given that you had just had your hand wrapped around him twenty minutes ago.
“Do you want to be on top, sweetheart?” The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind, he just figured you’d be the one in control of the whole thing, but the thought of hovering over you, getting to have a perfect view of your hair all splayed out over the pillows, your face contorted in pleasure, had goosebumps rising over his skin.
“If that’s what you want.” He surrendered, always looking to please you. You nodded, climbing onto the bed to lay down, waiting for him to reposition himself between your legs. He knelt there, reaching to grab the pillow from the end of the bed, bringing it behind your thighs. You understood what he was silently requesting, lifting your hips to allow him to slide the pillow underneath.
“Where’d you learn that, wonder boy?” You giggled, propping yourself up by your elbows to watch him.
“I read that it can ease the tension on the lower back created by repeated movement during intercourse, I want you to be comfortable.” He explained, bleeding heart showing once again. You nodded, smiling at him. His fingers slid up your thigh, pausing at the apex before dipping into your folds, his digits welcomed by your warm arousal.
“Y-you’re so wet already.” The look of amazement on his face amused you, as if he was somehow completely unaware that you were, in fact, truly attracted to him.
“Spencer, believe it or not, I actually do enjoy our time together.” You teased, raising your knees to your chest to give him a better view of your cunt. His features softened, your joking easing his nerves as he prepared himself for what he was about to do.
“Can I start?” He asked, positioning his hips just above yours.
“Yes baby, go slow.” You locked eyes with him, pushing a strand of hair away from his face. He brought his cock to your cunt, rubbing the head through your folds before tapping it against your clit a few times, making absolutely positive that you were relaxed enough. He positioned his head at your entrance, slowly pushing forward until his head popped into your welcoming hole.
“Stop.” You commanded, voice firm. His eyes widened in panic, freezing his movements.
“W-what’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He rambled, fear in his tone.
“I’m okay Spencer, I just want you to stay like that until I say otherwise.” He could hear the amusement in your tone and although he was no longer concerned, confusion quickly replaced it.
“Why?” He questioned, apprehensively obeying your request.
“I’m just doing whatever I want, just like you asked me to. I want to see if you can resist your urges.” He was almost annoyed, knowing that this was another one of your power plays, but the shiver that ran up his spine told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were.
So he stayed there, wincing every time you clenched your pelvic muscles around his tip, trying to break him. You knew it wouldn’t work, he was the definition of obedient, but it was oh so fun to watch him squirm in anticipation. After a good five minutes you decided you’d had enough, ready to let him fill you.
“You are so deliciously pathetic.” You laughed lightly, pulling him down into a kiss. You felt him smile against your lips, his hand snaking up your stomach to grope your breast. Your nipple hardened against his palm, drawing a low moan from your throat.
“Move, Spencer.” You finally gave him permission, your hand tangling in his messy locks. He pushed further into you, his thick girth stretching your walls in a way that had you begging for more.
“So tight.” He moaned, pausing to just feel the way your pussy hugged him before pulling out and thrusting quickly back into you, his eyes shut tight in concentration.
“Look at me.” You moaned, needing to see the pleasure in his beautiful eyes. His eyelids fluttered open, catching your gaze as he found a steady rhythm inside of you. Each thrust of his hips made the filthiest sound, wet slapping skin mixing with both of your moans, his whines and whimpering music to your ears.
The pillow beneath you made for the perfect angle, allowing the veins on this cock to rub deliciously against your sweet spot. He grabbed the side of your face, his mouth practically devouring you as he swallowed your moans. When we pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lips fell to your chest, and without hesitation he dipped his head down to lick it up, repeating your earlier actions as me marked your chest, working his way to your breasts.
He increased his speed, pumping in and out of you at an animalistic pace, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking hungrily. You threw your head back into the pillows, your hands finding his back and your acrylics digging into his delicate skin. You scratched up his back, surely drawing blood and for a split second you worried you’d taken it too far, until he moaned loudly against your chest.
“I’m gonna cum.” He panted, shifting so his face was above yours again. He looked to you for permission, but you weren’t going to let him off that easily.
“No, not until you beg for it.” You told him, digging your nails into his back again. He slowed his pace just slightly, his free hand finding your clit and rubbing quickly over it, hoping it would soften your conviction just a little.
“Please let me cum, I need it.” He weakly pleaded, his actions growing increasingly desperate.
“Come on baby, I know you can do better than that.” You encouraged him, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts. He whimpered, hanging his head for a moment to center himself.
“Please Mommy!” He groaned, watching your tits bounce with every thrust.
“Do it, fill up Mommy’s cunt Spencer.” You finally allowed him to let go, getting in a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered, his cock twitching and coating your walls with his warm cum. The feeling of his warmth deep inside coupled with his hand on your clit sent you over the edge, every nerve in your body on fire as the tension in your core dispersed through your body, the pleasure washing over you in waves.
When you both came down from your highs, Spencer collapsed face down on the bed next to you, his head turned to face you.
“I love you.” He whispered, half hoping he’d said it low enough that you hadn’t heard.
“I love you too, Spence.” You returned the favor, any fear he had immediately dissipating with the mutual confession.
——
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