#pretentious and stubborn yes

[kookslastbutton]

Lovin' You Right ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: Your new badass neighbor won't leave you alone. You know the type, the guy your mama wouldn't want you bringing home. He'd break your heart as quick as he'd take it.

Pairing: new neighbor!jungkook x fem!reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, e2l, neighbors, oneshot/drabble

Word Count: 2,031

Warnings: cussing, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, missionary, praising, rough s*x, d*rty talk, sp*nking overst*mulation, reader's first-time, sl*t calling once, oc a bit of an uptight b at first, little manhandling, jk rides a motorcylce, jk giving it to oc straight, a very wet date bc MV made me do it

Now Playing: seven by jjk

A/N: no explanation, this is just what i thought of when i listened to jungkook's song 'seven'. Hope you enjoy! 💞

He looked like a real hard ass with all the black leather he wore, arms covered in ink, and chains hanging from his neck. You know the type, the guy your mama wouldn't want you bringing home.

He was your next-door neighbor and he rode a mean motorcycle. It was loud as fuck and woke you up about ten times during the night. And every time he saw you in the hallway? He'd have this shit-eating grin on, like he wanted to devour you whole.

"Think our mail got switched up again," he said, handing you a pile of letters. "Gonna need to talk to the mail man or somethin'."

"Oh geez," you replied, doing your best to avoid eye contact of more than three seconds–his eyes were just a little too piercing. "Thanks." You shoved the letters under your arm and carried on your way. It was laundry day and you desperately needed to have clean clothes.

"Hey wait," he kept on your trail. "How's your day goin'?" He rushed ahead to open the laundry room door, allowing you to go first.

Look at him trying to be a gentleman, hmph. You held your head high and walked through the door. He'd break your heart as quick as he'd take it.

.

Like an itch that won't go away, Jungkook followed you as much as he could. No matter how much you scratched, he'd be right there, burning holes in the back of your neck. He'd watch you dump your clothes in the washer, walk you to your car whenever you needed to go anywhere, hell he even helped you carry in groceries when given the chance.

"What do you want Jeon?" You finally popped the question. He didn't look like he was simply "being generous" or "doing his part to make the world better". He was bumming around for something, he had to be.

"Go out with me," he simply quipped, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Excuse me?"

He rolled his eyes, he was too old for beating around the bush and he was fed up with you giving him the silent finger. Not once have you told him to beat it straight to his face so he's gonna shoot his shot. "Yes or no __? You know I like you, why else would I be bugging the crap out of you?"

"'Cause you want to fuck me then leave me for your other neighbor, the one who lives on the other side of your door." You crossed your arms against your chest. "Tell me I'm wrong."

He narrowed his eyes, tiniest of smirks on his overly gorgeous, no good, lying face. " No you're right. I do wanna fuck that pretentious attitude you got. It's been pissing me off for weeks."

He took a step towards you, caging you between himself and your kitchen island. "What gives you the right to be this bitchy huh? You act like you know everything there is to know about me, but you're too damn stubborn to open your eyes and see it's all a complete farce." He leaned his head forward to graze his lips along the edge of your ear. "I don't know what little girl fairytales you've been taught but I'm not the monster you need to watch out for....and prince charmings don't exist, princess."

You shoved your hands against his chest but he grips them tight in his own. "We don't have to go out anymore. I see what you really think of me."

He released your wrist and headed for the door. "It's really a shame," he hollered before leaving. "You're really beautiful."

God you hated him.

.

For the next week, Jungkook was no where in sight. He didn't come see you, he didn't bring you anything, he went completely M.I.A. It was a breath of fresh air but by the second week, you wondered where he was and if he was okay. He did drive a motocylce afterall, maybe he got in an accident and you didn't know.

You stared at his door, hesistant to knock in fear if him actually being in there. He'd likely laugh you off when he saw you, so you purposefully picked a time he'd most likely be out and about anyway. You hated that you kinda knew his schedule.

Jungkook quirked an amused brow at you when he finally cranked his door open. He was wearing light washed jeans and no under shirt, his pecs were on full display. "What can I do for you princess?"

"Nothing," you spat, definitely not looking below his thick neck. "Just wanted to make sure you didn't do anything stupid yet."

"Checking up on me huh?" He put an elbow on the door frame, eyes darkening. "That's sweet."

"Fuck off. You're healthy it seems so I'm gonna go check up on the other neighbors now. I think Mrs. Baker set the fire alrms off the other day so I need to make sure she's oka—"

You're arm was yanked back as soon as you moved to turn around. "Fuck you're bullshit __. You missed me didn't ya?"

"Not much to miss Jeon." You're such a liar, Jungkook muttered to himself. The whole world could see you were having a conversation with his pecs this whole time—too damn timid to look him in the eyes.

"Shut up and say you'll go out with me already. I'm tired of waiting for your ass to come around."

.

You swallowed your pride and there you were, watching Jungkook splash in every single puddle. He just had to propose going out the one day it was storming out.

"Wipe that sour look off your face!" He stomped in the water, drenching you entirely.

You shrieked at the sudden coldness. Big droplets of water soaked your face, clothes, shoes, everything. "You're such a child Jungkook!"

He ignored you and wrapped his muscular arms around you. The white tank he wore was drenched as well. "You're having fun, admit it."

You scoffed. The only reason you agreed to go out was to show him how ridiculous it would be for the two of you to go out. You and Jungkook were likely the most incompatible people for each other. While he was out riding his bike with heavy metal blasting, you were watching the latest law drama in you're pajamas. It was only a matter of time before this expirament of his would show him the true results of your intermingling.

"C'mon," he took you by the hand and dragged you through the rain. "Just be in the moment __. Let the rain shower over you and be free!" He grabbed your other hand and began spinning you both in circles.

"I'm going to get dizzy."

"Then only look at me. Look at me and don't worry about what's around us. Focus on a single subject and you won't get dizzy." He pulled you by the waist, forcing you to stare straight at him.

He was right. The dizziness went away but your knees feel like jelly.

"What's holding you back?" Jungkook smiled and it was the most genuine smile you'd ever seen. "Look at me __. Look at us. What do you see?"

As you stood there in the pouring rain, a pair of deep, boy-like eyes locked with yours. This was him, the thought dawned on you, a soft-hearted guy who wasn't afraid to open himself up.

You felt a pang of guilty settle in your gut–you weren't the better person like you so believed. You're closed off, comfortable in your space. Skeptical of anyone and everyone. You were wrong to see Jungkook as a careless, arrogant, motorcycle thug and it was a hard pill for you to swallow.

"I don't know." You replied softly, shivering at the faintest touch of his fingers supporting on your back. "I'm sorry, I don't know Jungkook."

"Well I see something worth sticking around for, rain or shine. I think I've become an idiot for you and I don't think that bothers you as much as you let on. You sought me out after I gave you space and I've literally been playing in the puddles this whole date and you haven't ditched me yet. So if you want some more of this, I'll give it to you with open hands, open heart, and I'll make sure to be loving you right." He winked before finishing. "As many days as you'd like."

Jungkook didn't give you much time to respond before he pressed his lips against your own. He made sure to go gentle, barely brushing them over your lips.

You understood immediately–if you wanted this, you were going to have to be the one to seal the deal.

And you did, kissing him with full force. You hoped you wouldn't regret this in the morning.

.

Ever since that night, you and Jungkook had started going out. It was slow at first but six months later, you and he finally made your relationship official.

"Shh," he cooed above you. He was a bit of a blur due to the pitch darkness of the room but you felt him everywhere. He was straddling your naked sides, praising your body like it was art. "Doing so good for me baby, making me so hard–fuck."

It was your first real-time being with a man and being your new boyfriend, Jungkook made sure to be extra attentive. "Kook," you moaned, back arching and pussy throbbing from where he had recently entered you.

He dragged his thick length out of you before slamming back in, a little rougher than the previous thrust. "That's it," he said through gritted teeth. "Let me hear those pretty moans. Been dying to hear them since I first saw you in those cute little sweat shorts you like walking to the laundry room in."

"Faster Kook, please." You gripped his muscular back, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. You needed him lodged so far in your gut that you'd literally see stars. "Plea–please."

"Shit baby, if you start begging this early I can't promise you I won't go completely feral and I don't want to hurt you."

"I want all of you Jungkook," you said. "You said you'd love me right, so do it." And that's all it took for your boyfriend to lock down on your waist with firm hands, pounding into you with all he had.

You tried looking up at him, wanting to look him dead in the eye as he fucked into you but you couldn't handle it. He was dripping with sweat, his muscles were tense, veins were protruding out of neck, and his teeth were clamped shut. He was focused and he knew what he was doing. You on the other hand were a complete opposite story.

"Jung-Jungkook, oh god, fuck!" You screamed incoherently. His big cock reached every inch inside you, stretching you out with every snap of his hips. Never in your life had you had so much pleasure in a short amount of time. And embarrasing it may be, you were definitely going to come far before the usual.

"Look at you fucking falling apart already. Too much for your tight little pussy to handle isn't it? Well you begged for this, and now you're gonna take this cock like a big girl aren't ya," he barked, landing a sharp slap to your ass.

"Shit!" You yelped, clenching around him automatically. "Gonna come Kook...please-please. It's my first time I-"

You came without finishing the plead, sticky white substance ran down your thighs and onto the sheets. Jungkook's wet length continues to move in you, pushing some of your cum back in. The erotic squelching makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Mhm yeah." He planted a trail of rough kisses up your neck, teeth nipping at the delicate skin. "And now you're gonna come again, and again, and again til you're dripping with my cum. I'm gonna then eat you out while my fingers play with your clit. But congrats on your first-time baby, because from here on out, you're gonna become my slut , and I'll be fucking you seven days a week."

A/N: written a little different than usual but yeah...haha idk. Tysm for reading and lmk your thoughts 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#bangtanbathhouse #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in Your Area

Chapter 1

“A cult?” Jason blew out a bubble and enjoyed the disgusted face that Bruce made.

“Yes.” His voice was tight. Jason could tell that he wanted to turn back to the Batcomputer. “They’re operating in Park Row-”

“Crime Alley.”

Batman sighed and accepted the correction. “I would like to propose a joint operation.” He sounded so tired and not very optimistic.

Jason eyed up his on-again-off-again Father figure and popped his gum, thinking it over. Bruce clearly expected him to say no, fuck off, and take the information himself.

He could. There was nothing wrong with that.

“Sure, old man.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and finished screwing together the tool he’d brought in for maintenance. He’d had to fabricate a new part and the Red Hood didn’t exactly have the equipment for that in his two room apartment. “Thursday night alright?”

“They’ve a planned meeting on Wednesday, actually,” Bruce said, frowning slightly at him but looking soft around the eyes with confused hope. “Would that be possible? They seem to gather mid-week.”

Jason let out a sigh. “I can make it work. Ta, old man.” He made sure to toss off an especially insouciant salute as he sauntered away. Sure, he was willing to put a little effort into maintaining their relationship, but he couldn’t be too compliant. If you gave Bruce an hour of your time, he wrote you down on the schedule for an hour every day until one of you fuckin’ died in a warehouse explosion. Something like that.

He wasn’t that trusting, though. Jason took the information that Bruce emailed him and did his own legwork. He wasn’t stubborn enough to bother redoing digital work that Bruce had done or gotten from Babs. That would be a waste of his time, and he valued his time. But he scoped out the cult’s meeting place.

Of all the undignified things, it was a rented room in the community center. Jason found himself sheepishly breaking into the office to check on the reservation and poking around the room itself.

There was nothing special about it. It was a shitty room with shitty paneled walls and cheap, well-trodden grey carpet. It boasted a few too many tables, arranged in a U shape, and a whiteboard pushed up against the wall that hadn’t been cleaned off well enough to erase what he was pretty sure was a reference to their lord and savior, destroyed of worlds.

So. That was a point for Bruce’s cult thing.

He hadn’t really doubted it, if he was honest, given that this had originated in a tip from Zatanna. She had told him as a courtesy that some creep had moved their base of recruiting and operations into Gotham.

Apparently, recruitment was going pretty well. The room could seat like, twenty? Jason counted chairs and left.

He came back on Wednesday at 8pm with the Batman and an attempt at a good attitude. He probably wasn’t going to need any of the weapons on his person. They were going to check in so that this guy knew they had an eye on him and that he would be suspect number one if there was any hint of people or cats being sacrificed.

Bruce fucked off to peer in the windows, like the giant caped creep he was. Jason took the front door, nodded congenially at the old man in the office, and knocked at the room the cultists had reserved.

He could hear Bruce internally curse through the comm. It was silent, of course, but the quality of the silence changed. “Knock knock,” he called, since a literal knock hadn’t done it. He opened the door without waiting. “Just checking in, heard you’re new to town and that you tried to feed Zatanna’s shitty little cousin to the god of Death?”

The room stared at him. A whiteboard marker squeaked to a stop. He idly followed the sound to the board. A …. Huh. that looked like some kind of mystical bullshit.

“You’ve been touched by death,” said the fraud himself, a man in his fifties with a wildly pretentious robe that was wrinkled from the paper bag he’d clearly used to carry it in. He outstretched the hand that didn’t have a blue whiteboard marker in it. “You would be a perfect sacrifice to our Lord.”

“So will it be,” said about half the people there, at the same time a young woman said, “No shit?” in an impressed tone.

Jason rolled his eyes through the helmet, unintimidated by the room of weirdos standing up. The kind of people who gathered at a community center on a Wednesday night were not going to summon the God of Death. Light glinted off the window where Batman was clearly weighing the possibility of breaking glass and swinging in. Jason silently waved him off with a headshake. They weren’t to the point of property damage yet. He took a couple of steps into the room with deliberate swagger. “What a lucky guess,” he drawled. “The Red Hood has had brushes with death? No one but a legitimate prophet could possibly make such a statement.”

“I’m not a prophet,” said the man, and turned back to his white board. “I’m a devote.” He rubbed out a line with the meat of his hand and then hurriedly wrote in ‘The Red Hood’ in a tilted cursive. “The sacrifice!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide and accidentally making a big blue line through his evil little sigil or whatever it was. The elderly lady to Jason’s right opened up her bag, thrust her hand in, and came up with a fistful of -

“Salt?” Jason asked, confused and unimpressed as the silly twit threw her handful of salt at him. “Thanks, I’m better seasoned now,” he snarked. He pulled out a gun easily. “Alright, let’s get serious. I-”

The whiteboard was glowing. The blue letters were glowing green.

“What the fuck?” Jason said. The windows exploded with broken glass as Batman decided now was the time to make his entrance. He barely got to see it before something hooked unpleasantly on his body and soul and twisted it sideways.

The world was green now. Holy shit. Jason spun a circle on uneven ground and gaped. “...Egg on my face,” he said. “I’ve been sacrificed. Consider me embarrassed.” A quick check showed that his comm was useless. It was giving off a steady little eeee of static that kinda sounded like screams. Whimsical. Jason turned it off.

He wasn’t panicking yet. The void wasn’t that freaky. It was weird, sure, but there weren’t any demons or enemies. He flicked the safety off his favorite gun just in case and frowned into the darkness.

It was like he was standing under a spotlight with no light source. There was ambient lighting in all directions, but the world faded into darkness only a few dozen feet away. He took some experimental steps to determine that, yeah, the field of visibility traveled with him.

Well. Time to get moving. Jason walked. There was nothing for the first - hour, he was gonna call it an hour. He got antsy and started jogging. The green stretched on, placid and infinite in a way that was really starting to piss him off. “Hey!” Jason barked into the void. “Anyone there?”

There was an answering electronic whirr. He stopped in his tracks. Jason looked in every direction, including up, and only saw the fucking thing when it was basically on top of him.

The vehicle was probably most equivalent to a spaceship, he decided, as what was probably a 3-man craft at most parked. The top clicked. It opened from the top and someone bounded out. “Hey!” came an annoyed male voice. “What’s the deal, bud?” The stranger landed in front of Jason with crossed arms and a pissy expression. His white hair floated above his head as if he was the little fucking mermaid in the ocean.

Jason scowled, the back of his mind cataloging the other guy’s outfit as pristine and undamaged and his musculature as athletic. “What’s it to you?” he asked, defensive. He didn’t know if it was safe to give information to this guy. “I might be a little lost,” Jason conceded.

“A little lost,” the guy repeated, and then- okay, he flew in a weird little flippy circle, scowling all the while as Jason gaped. “A little lost.” He scoffed. Then he let out a sigh that made his whole body look smaller. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a weird question,” he said, making it sound more defensive than apologetic. “Did you uh.” He scowled, like the words were distasteful. “Look,” he tried again. “Are you delulu, or did you get caught up as the sacrificial bride? I told Frank to knock that shit off.”

Sacrificial bride. Jason felt his brain go offline for a moment. Say what now.

“Helloooo,” the… was this rando a god of death? He was impatient. He flew way up into Jason’s personal space and snapped his fingers. “Someone just smashed metal trash bins together at my grave to get my attention, basically. No, it’s more like one of those spam pop ups that says there’s hot girls in your area?” He made a gesture at Jason. “Only it’s loud. It’s ringing in my ears, and I had to come track you down. Do you think this is funny?”

“...Sacrificial bride?” Jason finally managed to croak out.

Weirdly, this made the other guy relax immediately. “Just found out, huh,” he said, sounding much more sympathetic. “Yeah, okay, we need to sort out a spiritual divorce immediately. And then you can go home and there will be no more hot girls in my area and I can get back to my ess- my work.”

Jason took a few moments of grief and confusion to accept his apparent status. “We’re married?” he said weakly.

The white haired man looked a little sheepish. “Marriage is probably not quite accurate,” he said, and Jason felt a little bit of relief before the guy continued, “It’s more like you’re my concubine?” He sounded mortified by this. “I didn’t want this!”

“No, no,” Jason said, meaning both that he believed it and that he needed this conversation to change directions immediately. “I- who are you?” He gestured at his– what the fuck was the other side of a concubine relationship? King was the associated word that came up, but that…

“I’m nobody, really,” said the white haired man weakly. “But I may technically be King of ghosts or whatever. The Infinite Realms.” He scratched at his face. “So… yeah.”

They stood in utterly mortified silence for a long moment before he seemed to remember something. “You can call me Danny,” he offered.

“...Call me Jason,” he said.

“Thanks, Jason,” Danny said genially. “So, uh, this is a mess, right?” He started floating away backwards. “I’m going to hunt down my mentor and advisor and get some uh- advice, I guess. Do you wanna come with? Or should I come back and check in once I’ve heard from him?”

Jason weighed up his situation, the conventional wisdom about getting in vehicles with strange men, and wondered how useless his gun was going to be in this situation. Danny had never reacted to it being pointed at him, so his guess was ‘utterly unhelpful’. He put it away. “I’d like a ride, thanks,” he said dryly.

They made some stilted conversation on the ride. Danny was clearly trying to hold back and give him no identifying information. That was fascinating, because it implied that there was something Jason could do from the human world to track Danny down. It was also reassuring because there was no reason to withhold information if he’d planned to keep Jason prisoner, so, ya know, that was a good sign.

Anyway, Jason got a lot of information from Danny.

Danny was a terrible liar and he misspoke like, all the time. Jason was pretty sure he was in the ghost equivalent of school, like college or something. He talked like someone in Jason’s age group would, so he’d probably died very recently. Maybe he had been a college student when he’d died and he just hadn’t given up on that degree yet, honestly. Jason managed to drag the conversation around to education. He got nowhere with asking about literature but he hit the jackpot with science. Danny was still babbling about a telescope when he landed the …ship outside of a wonky clocktower.

Jason took off his safety belt and froze in his tracks when Danny absently stopped him with a cool hand. Jason looked down at that hand.

“You had better stay here,” Danny said. He shook his head slightly. “Clocky doesn’t like everyone.”

He melted into the chair as if he had never wanted to get up. “Alright,” Jason said.

Danny was out of the spaceship by the time that Jason realized something was very wrong with that interaction.

He hadn’t decided to sit down. He hadn’t wanted to sit back down. Did- did he actually think it was reasonable to stay behind, or would he have argued and gone in normally?

‘...I think Danny did something.’ Suspicion swirled in his gut. Jason tried to take the safety belt off and stand up. He couldn’t. It was like his muscles wouldn’t respond to it.

Well, that was pretty fuckin’ evil. His pulse picked up in his throat. It… It was some kind of compulsion? He had to do what Danny told him to do? That was really fucked up. He was starting to feel really unsafe now. He wished he’d hung back with Bruce. He wanted someone to bring him home. And weirdly, he felt betrayed. He hardly trusted Danny, didn’t know the fucker well enough to, but he hadn’t gotten that impression off the guy–

‘It wasn’t him,’ Jason realized. ‘It was the binding ritual. Danny said it wasn’t like a marriage, it’s not equal. That’s why I did what Danny wanted me to do.’

Well. Well then. If Danny didn’t know that Jason had to follow his orders, Jason was most fucking certainly not going to spell it out for him. It was a grim calculation to make, but it seemed the safest. As it was, Danny seemed to want to get rid of him as fast as possible.

So that was it. He’d play along and get Danny to spit him back out into Gotham, a young hot divorcé free on the streets.

#red hot ghouls #jason todd #dcdp #deadonmain #dp x dc

[sprout-fics]

König would absolutely adore it when you fuck yourself silly on his cock. Struggle to take all of him at start but just to stubborn to stop yes. There is foreplay and lube involved. Still the first stretch is always intense. His eyes are hungry and blown out, his hands on your ass and hibs, urging you forward. Will stuff your mouth with one or two fingers to keep.them nice and wet to play with your clit. I headcanon him from Vienna- which is in Austria-because they have this kind of slow, a bit pretentious dialect that I absolutely adore. Will not stop talking to you, praising you, will slip into german more and more the more worked up he gets. There is a lot of cursing.

(The things this gif is doing to me rn...)

Anon this thot has been living rent free in my head for days.

You’re shivering on top of him.

Palms planted on his stomach, your fingers tease the line of hair that extends down ast his belly button. Coarse, trimmed, an arrow guiding the way down, down to the base of him. König’s hands are smoothing down your hips, circling in a ceaseless pattern across your flesh. The gesture leaves ripples in its wake, like stones skipping across a pond. The reverberations echo down into your bones, into the place where you’re both connected. 

He’s stuffed you full.

Fuller than you’ve ever been. Your cunt is stretched obscenely around him, lips sealing around his cock with a snug, velvet embrace. The slick of you coats your thighs, his stomach. It seems to spill everywhere, evidence of your pooling desire that flickers low in your stomach, a bright burning thing hungry for fuel.

Hungry for him.

It’s on the brink of being too much. The length of him nudges inside you, a blunting, unrelenting pressure that makes your breath shudder free of your chest and your toes curl. Yet there’s a victory in your bones, a triumph that has a smile spread across your swollen, tender lips. He said it couldn’t be done but you’d persisted, ever the soldier. Now, with his massive cock seated deep inside you you realize the battle is only half beginning. 

“Schiesse.” König curses under you when you flex experimentally around him, and suddenly his thumbs dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. He doesn’t know his own strength, and its that exact reason he let you do as you please, sinking down and down and down on him until you thought every inch would be the last, only to be roved wrong yet and yet again. 

There’s a crack, a whimper to his voice as he restrains himself, sucking hard on his teeth and keeing the feral, untameable urge to buck into you tightly under control. The instinct is dulled by his ceaseless words, cooing endless praise and encouragement up at you from where he lays prone beneath you. 

“That’s it, liebling. You feel so good, so perfect. Are you ok? Hurting? You’re so warm. So pretty, like a little bird.”

When you raise yourself off him though, those words vanish into a strangled groan, and your hands have to fly down to his wrists to keep him from securing you to him with a white-knuckle grip. The slide of his length against the silky, slickened clench of your cunt is nothing less than ambroisal. You think you’re drinking nectar from the gods, the way you cling to him even as you pull away, and your whispered sacraments spill from your lips as a high, breathy moan.

König whimpers, a prayer for mercy. You’ve none to give, lost in the heady, lustrous sensation of him,  the monstrous stretch of him inside you, setting you on fire from the inside out until there’s nothing but ashes. 

“G-Gott.” He whispers, but the sound is choked. “Again, liebling, please? Please.”

When he asks like that, how can you refuse?

It takes a few tries at first, but eventually you set a slow, plunging ace that has you rocking your hips against him with every downthrust. It fractures at his restraint, words slurring together as the cracks inside him deepen, expand. Still, he promised to be good, to let you do things your way, the head of him nudging at just the right angle to make you toss your head back, let your shoulders shudder with a broken sigh. 

“K-König.” You manage, and even then the air is forced from your lungs when he groans, lets that control of his slip just long enough to buck into you-

The pleasure is so sharp and sudden it laces up your spine, across your hips and into your throat where it stifles into a choke.

“Tut mir leid.” He mutters instantly, fingers intertwining with yours as your chest rises with your next gasp of air, eyes staring down at him but not seeing, drunk on pleasure. “Schonne leib, tut mir leid.”

Your lips are open, drinking in air like it’s your life support, mindlessly rocking against him now, blindly chasing after the pleasure that he’s tempted you with. You see his eyes, see his pupils eclipsing his irises with that same drunken desire, absolved of sin when he’s ever present in your grace. 

His thumb raises, presses down on the plump, lush fullness of your bottom lip. It’s an impulsive gesture, one of many when it comes to him, but you reward it with one of your own. Leaning forward, you encircle the digit with your tongue, wetting it and then sucking.

König growls.

It’s the deep, rumbling, primal sound that echoes endlessly down into his chest, something with fangs that want to seize you, tear you open and devour you.

When he ventures another finger you accept it wordlessly, hips grinding down against his pelvis so the head of him bumps against the plug of your womb. One hand tangled with him, you give small, deep thrusts down onto him- having to gasp around his thick, calloused digits for the air he forces from your lungs with every thrust. 

“Ich möchte-” He starts, grunting as you reflexively flutter around him at the sound of his voice. “-Want to stay inside you forever. Just like this.”

When he asks like that, you think for sure you’ll let him.

#König #könig smut #könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig smut #smut #18+ #minors dni

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

ALPHABET BOY- S.G ROGERS

Pairing: Brothers Best Friend! Steve x Innocent! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: you despise steve and his constant teasing with you- the younger sister of his best friend bucky barnes. little do you know that teasing is flirting, and it comes in handy when you’re trapped at a costume party with no way home. 

Warnings: SMUT, fingering, daddy kink, petnames, slight breeding kink, praise kink, swearing, size kink (steve is like 6′5), dry humping, slight degradation kink, lots of teasing, alcohol and drugs mentioned 

“i'm not a little kid now, watch me get big now- spell my name on the fridge now with all your alphabet toys.... you won the spelling bee now, but are you smarter than me now? you're the prince of the playground little alphabet boy” - alphabet boy, melanie martinez 

You were sick of him. 

Sick, sick, sick. 

He plagued your brain, consuming you whole like some flesh-eating maggot. The thought of him was enough to send shivers down your back, make your stomach curl in on itself like rotten milk. 

Steve scared you. 

He scared you in a way you didn’t even know was possible, in a way that was rooted deep in your core. The embarrassment you got whenever he was around sent you spiraling. 

You were the shy, timid and innocent little sister to Bucky, though you weren't so little, he and his friends always thought of you that way. 

I’m not a little kid! You’d often whine to him as he teased you, times never changing. Steve was Bucky's best friend, a brother to him if you will. Always lurking around, always popping up in places you'd least expect him. 

He was the character that was always slouched on the couch when you got home, acting as if it were his house, and you were the guest. You might as well be, with the way he teased you. 

Always making your cheeks heat whenever he mocked you, called you names, picked on you for your cutesy, little pink outfits. It made your toes curl in their socks, your hands balling into little fists as if you were fighting the urge to swing at him. 

He’s being mean to me again Bucky! You’d often call from your bedroom as Steve towered over you, leaning against your bedroom door frame- eyeing you up like you were the star dish on the menu. 

Let him! He’d call back, making Steve’s smirk grow even wider. 

It was torture, being around him. Any comments you shot back to him ended up backfiring almost immediately. 

You were smaller, dumber, younger- didn’t you know better? 

No, you wanted to snap back. No, I don’t know any better. Because I’m stubborn and he’s being a tease. 

Steve would build you up like building blocks, just to bring you back down again. Yet you refused to be away from him for too long. Yes the thoughts made you feel sick, tummy starting to ache as you thought of his cool, stern gaze, that cocky smile and biceps as large as your head.

 It made your thighs clamp, palms turn clammy when you thought of the happy trail that lingered down his abs whenever he’d stretch and yawn while him and Bucky were watching the game, knowing you were watching from behind your little hiding spot. 

Damn him. Damn him and his mocking, pretentious ways. Damn him for always winning you back over, with little sweets and treats and the odd compliment, or attention he knew you so desperately craved.

 It was obvious, how drawn to him you were, like a lost puppy. Though you tried to fight it, you were always rewarded with a snarky comment. 

You’re so dumb. So dumb, such a baby. 

You could never win, when it came to Steve. He was the golden child in everyone’s eyes, always doing the right thing, always working so hard and succeeding! You were just trying your best, getting the soft, sad smile along with it. 

They didn’t see how Steve treated you. They didn’t notice the sly looks he gave you, knowing he had beat you at every hand he dealt. 

He was the prince of the playground. You were just a pawn for him, something to direct his mocking, sarcastic ways towards. Though you refused to cry in front of him, knowing that would irk his comments even more.

 I’m just teasing you rabbit. Don’t be so sensitive. Was his form of an apology. And you ate it up every single time, licking the plate and utensils before seconds.

 It was cat and mouse between the two of you, always pulling each other's leg. Or hair, in his case. The sexual attraction you felt towards him was undeniable, nonetheless. You were drawn to him and his charming ways, the facade he put on for others. 

How could no one see him? The real him? 

The Steve who always trailed his hand up your leg to pinch your thigh tightly when you were forced to sit next to him, the Steve who always looked at you as if you were his next meal. 

He was an angel to the world, but his halo was anything but bright. You thought of him now, in your own set of angel wings- costume party in full swing. It was late, the hour growing long and you wanted nothing more than to stumble home. 

Even if that meant taking yourself. 

The alcohol was buzzing in your system, the bottle drowning you way past your limit. You were such a sucker for peer pressure, wanting nothing more than to please others. 

So you drank, and drank, and drank until you were a babbling mess, the world seeming to bend over backwards, flipping each and every way as you adjusted your little wings and took another sip of some fruity cooler. 

It was so saccharine you swore your teeth started to tingle as it swished around your mouth. 

You needed to leave. 

It was too stuffy and hot, bodies all packed together as the wallpaper glistened from the low lights, and the smoke started to cover everything like a shield. Nobody listened to you, your friends long gone as you attempted to beg for an exit, an escape route for you to stumble down. 

Everyone had morphed into another being- you weren't sure who was who anymore, with all the masks and makeup. It was not your scene. Not at all. 

Somehow, after a few loud, floor-shaking songs later you had managed to stumble over to a hallway, slowly guiding yourself past the couples who were dry-humping eachother against the picture frames, kissing with so much teeth and tongues it was like they were having a battle on who would gasp for air first.

The red solo cup had slipped from your nibble fingers, clattering against the hardwood and splashing red up against the walls. 

It looked like blood. 

The cool air hit you like a train on a track as you stepped out into the dark abyss, large forest looming in front of you as the porch light flickered. The shadows of the trees looked like clawed fingers against the grass, the gust of wind causing goosebumps to spread up your arms. 

You needed to get home. 

There was a trail that connected this property to yours, though it was long and windy. The smart thing to do was to call Bucky, explain to him the situation. 

I’m drunk. Like really drunk. And I’m scared and I need someone to hold just for a few minutes while they take me home. It was a mistake and I’m so sorry, I really am. 

But he wouldn't hold you. He probably wouldn’t even pick you up, saying it was your fault for getting in this situation, so you should find a way out of it.

 No, no that was intrusive thoughts talking. You couldn't tell the difference anymore. Everything in your brain was swimming, the world stretching and warping like a fushigi ball. 

Bucky would pick you up. Of course he would. But you knew the consequences that would come with it. Which is exactly why you put another foot forward, pushing yourself off of the old, weathered siding. 

You would be treated like a child, mocked at for being so careless. Well, he could shove that mocking up his ass. You were tired of him and his friends always being so mean, always bullying you because you were seen as careless. 

You didn’t need any company, but it didn’t mean you were opposed to it. A shadow, one even more intimidating than the towering trees appeared, lingering behind you. It was stretched, shoulders wide as you peered down at it. 

“You shouldn't be out here all alone.” the voice murmured, low and deep as you turned. Your eyes met with a strangers, mask covering his face- deep looming pulled eyes staring at you. 

Ghostface. 

You had seen that movie with Steve and Bucky, though you had never been a fan of scary movies. “It’s not safe for little girls like you, you know.” he drawled on.

 It should've scared you, his sudden interest in you. He had appeared out of nowhere, quite literally from nowhere, keening to the likes of you. But it made you feel special, knowing this mystery man was talking to you.

 “I’m not alone, you’re out here.” you giggled, stumbling forward towards his 6’5 frame. You felt a weird desire to be in this mans arms- though there was no doubt about it that it was the booze that rushed to your head. 

“You should be scared angel. Not stumbling towards a stranger, all doe eyed like that.” 

“But you seem nice!” you chirped out, forgetting your original mission to make way back to your home. You liked this man. You liked Ghostface. 

“ Mhm you’re lucky I am. I take pity on little girls like you.” His arm extended, tight black henley sleeves rolled up to his bulging biceps. Mystery mans hand was warm to the touch, the brush of skin against your own sent heat licking down your spine. It was then you noted the tattoo that was all too familiar, the twist and curves of black ink that bent around his wrist like a snake. 

Steve. 

“Steve?” The hand that shrugged off the mask confirmed your suspicions, long blonde hair curling at the nape of his neck, blue eyes sparked with mischief. 

“You really shouldn't be so vulnerable, ya know. What if I actually was a stranger? It’s dangerous.”

 The scolding began. You were too dazed out to fight back, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. 

“I’m sorry, I really am. Just- just don’t tell B-bucky!” you hiccupped, praying he would help you. This was the first time you had needed Steve. Had wanted him to stay, and actually care. 

He clucked his tongue. “I won’t. But we need to get you home, yea? Silly girl. Silly, silly girl.”

 “I’m sorry.” was all you could mutter, stumbling as he squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance, fighting off the chill of the night air.

 “Don’t be stupid. You weren't thinking of going in the woods alone, were you? There really must not be a brain in there after all.” he mocked, taunting you as he guided you onwards, towards the creaking trees, their limbs dangling down like claws that would scratch your skin lean off, leave you bare and vulnerable. 

You took a deep breath, the fresh air heightening your senses as a twig snapped from under his weight, a soft tune leaving his lips as he whistled. You shuddered, leaning into him more, his larger hand in yours squeezing your digits a little tighter.

 “You scared angel?”

 “N-no. Never scared.” you lied, staring straight ahead, though you couldn't see much besides his flashlight beam aimed at the little path in front of you. 

“Not even when I spooked you that one time when you were with that pink bunny stuffie in your bedroom? What were you doing with it anyways?” 

Humping it to the thought of you, you wanted to confess but kept your lips shut. 

“Having a tea party.” you grumbled, to which he laughed. It brought you a sense of comfort in the moment- that laugh. It wasn't mean, or directed. It was just easy, carefree, and light as it bounced off an invisible sound barrier.

 He wasn't laughing at you. He was laughing with you.

 “Cute. You’re so cute bunny. You know that?” 

“No.” you giggled, cheeks heating as hot as the sun, whether it was from the booze or his affections, you didn’t know. It seemed like time was stretched and warped, the path ending as soon as it started when you were with Steve. 

You felt weirdly protected with him near, the warmth of his body drawing you closer, the scent of his cologne making your head spin as he murmured to you. It was hard to comprehend what he was saying, your mind in a different place as you stumbled into your backyard. 

The lights were off, the structure appearing empty and hollow as you stared up at it. “Looks like Bucko wouldn't of came anyways sweetheart.” he sighed, noting his car wasn't in the driveway, the doors appearing locked.

 “Does that mean I’m alone?” you asked, anxiety creeping into your voice. You didn’t think you could be alone tonight. You were too anxious and on edge to deal with the warped shadows, bending and following you like a contortionist. 

And if you puked, who said you’d be able to get off the bathroom tiles? 

“I’m staying with you angel. You’re too stupid to think for yourself right now.” 

You fought your urge to stick your tongue out at him, but you knew he was right. He teased you for having next to no thoughts in your brain all the time, but this time it was actually true.

 “Let’s go.” he tugged at your arm, causing u to stumble after him as he made his way towards the back door. His legs were so much longer than yours, stride extensive and full of authority. Steve knew exactly where to go, digging the key out of the hiding spot and unlocking the door. 

You didn’t even know how he knew where it was. You surely didn’t remember.

 The light flickered on, humming softly as it illuminated the little breakfast nook. “Steve why do you hate me?” you blurted out, hiccuping as you bent down to unbuckle your shoes, kicking them off by the door.

 His face contorted into a look of confusion as he peered down at you. “I don’t hate you bunny. Far from it.” 

You just nodded, taking his word for it. He was stumped by your level of compliance, as you normally would fight or bicker with him whenever he made a claim. But you were quiet, humming a little song as you trudged towards the stairs, hands out in front of you to guide you instead of turning on the rest of the lights.

 “Stev-” you gasped as suddenly your body was lifted from the ground, swung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Your head spun as you stared at the world from a much taller height, body squirming as he moved.

 A hand smacked your thigh that poked from under your little dress, making you yelp. “Stop squirmin girl. You're not walking up these stairs.” he grumbled, making the trudge up the rickety wooden stairs, hand rubbing your thigh as you felt your panties start to dampen. 

His hand was so warm, so nice as it stroked your skin, even when it stung. 

“I’m fully- fully able to walk up.” you slurred and he chuckled.

 “Mhm I don’t think you should think for yourself right now baby bunny.” he teased, and you giggled. Your bedroom door opened with a creak, and he walked you past the pink walls, past the frilly whites and endless stuffies as he plopped you down on your bed. 

You laid back with a sigh, tracing the soft sheets with your fingers, sinking into them as you closed your eyes. Steve felt himself getting harder and harder the longer he gazed at you, so soft and delicate- like a little doll. 

You were so in your element, basking in the comfort of the silk and cotton, just savoring how fuzzy you felt in the moment. 

“Can you help me with my costume Stevie?” you whispered, eyes fluttering open to smile at him. He thought he was dreaming. He needed to be pinched. 

But you needed his help, craved for his touch again as you lay there- almost helpless. You swung your leg up, toes curling against his abdomen in your socks, stretching your arms over your head.

 “You’re such a tease, you know that?” he murmured, tugging at each sock, peeing them away from your skin to reveal your bubblegum pink nail polish. 

“Mhmm so tired though Stevie. I can’t do anything.” 

“Oh I know.” he smirked, hands slowly inching their way up towards your thighs, fingers walking their way across your skin. 

“Just need your help, you gotta take care of me.” you giggled, back arching as he tugged at your dress, pulling off the rest of your costume. Your breasts were bared, shining in the pale moonlight as the air whooshed past his teeth. 

No bra.

 “Fuck. Fuck fuck.” he murmured as you giggled softly, batting your eyelashes at him as if you were a schoolgirl. “What’s the matter Stevie?” you asked, reaching for him, nails softly scraping against his biceps. 

“You’re so fucking adorable angel. Jesus Christ.” 

“Yeah?” you smiled, grabbing his hand, guiding it down towards your lacey underwear that was now soaked, letting his fingers circle your button through the fabric. 

You moaned, back arching against the sheets as he smiled, that wicked grin that drove you wild. You couldn't help yourself. You were on cloud nine, head in the heavens from the way he looked at you, the way he touched you. 

Hands slipped up to grope your breasts, massaging them, squeezing each nipple as your mouth parted into an O shape, moaning his name. His hands slipped under your undergarments, fingers coaxing you open as your legs fell limp- purely under his control. Submissive and willing for him. 

It drove him wild, the sweet, innocent little sister of his best friend- the person he had craved for years was now under him looking like a doll.

 “Gotta open you up first princess. Don’t wanna hurt your sweet, little hole hm?” he whispered, thumb circling your clit, so sensitive under his flesh, aching for him. 

You were just so needy, practically begging him- words slurring as you humped his hand, mindlessly reaching for one of your stuffies to cling to as your body rode him. 

“Mhmm so… daddy..” you gasped out, emitting a low growl from his lips. You moaned into the fur of the animal, to which he quickly ripped away. 

“Don’t hide your sweet little noises for daddy baby, don’t you know better? We’re all alone here, just the two of us. But even if we weren't, wouldn't you want everyone to know how good daddy's fingers feel stuffed in your cunnie?” 

You nodded viciously, gasping for breath as heat licked down your spine, burning bright in your core as he rocked into you deeper. It was taken away in an instant, a startled gasp leaving your lips in disappointment before you saw his hands fumbling with his belt, muttering under his breath. 

“Fuck I’m sorry angel but I can't take this anymore.I need- I need to be inside you I’m-” 

You whimpered as he tugged down his bottoms as quickly as the two of you had entered this tangled affair, barely having a second to process what was happening before he was in you, and he was in you deep. 

Plunging straight to the hilt, hands clawing at his biceps as you moaned, cried his name so sweetly he almost combusted right then and there.

 “I’m so sorry angel I just- been waiting too long, FUCK you’re so goddamn tight n wet..” he murmured, head drooping low as he breathed you in, watched the way your juices coated his cock as he slipped out just slightly, only to plunge in even harder. 

You clung to him so nicely, as if you were just made for him and only him, delicate and dainty. It was so easy to make you drool, so easy to watch you melt deeper into the mattress as he used you as his own personal fleshlight, muscles tensing and flexing as they adjusted you to the exact positions he wanted you in. 

“You’re so good to me Stevie. So, so good, filling me…” you sighed, eyes hazy and glazed over as you peered up at him, admiring the man you hated with a passion, but the one you also craved like a drug. 

He was so careful with you, guiding your tipsy body home, but so rough and eager with you now, as if he was feral.

 “Stevie?” you asked softly, face distorting slightly the longer he looked at you, confusion now smeared across your face like a kids finger painting. “Stevie?” 

You were muffled- trapped underwater. Murky. 

His eyes flew open with a start, meeting yours as he blinked the fuzz away. His hand was so close to your body, just mere inches away from the place he had been touching you in his dream. 

“Mhm?” he asked, noting he had somehow ended shirtless in your bed, the girly bedsheets wrapped around his low midriff, and you fought not to stare down at his happy trail. 

“You were dreaming I think. Mumbling something.” you slurred, head smacking down back onto the pillow as he stared at you, your eyes now closed once more. 

He didn’t fully remember what had happened. He had teased you, felt you up, and helped you home. But now he was in your bed, despite the fact the two of you bickered constantly, and nothing had happened. 

Your little skimpy pj’s were still on. His boxers were on. Though he wished more than anything they were off, that everything was off and he could feel you the way he had ten seconds earlier. 

He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest as you fell back into a drunken slumber, hand slipping over to cup your warm cheek before he could stop himself. 

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #captain america #captain america smut #captain america fanfiction #captain america fanfic #captain america fic #captian america #captian america smut #captain america x y/n #captain america x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x smut #steve rogers x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff #chris evans x smut

[jellyfishsthings]

warnings: smut ... feral bathroom sex, arguing in the beginning, practically hate sex... was in my feels and found this unfinished in my drafts .... so here you go

"Well, it's not my fault you are so unlikable that no one wants to spend time with you. That's why you have no friends. You are so pretentious, stubborn, and an annoying perfectionist that you open your mouth, and people instantly hate you -”

My hand flew and connected with his cheek way before my brain processed the slap that answered his harsh words. My eyes gave their own battle as they fought the urge to slip the tears that threatened all my integrity. I sharply turned to my heels and walked as fast as possible back to my apartment, hugging my bag to the front of my chest.

As the door closes behind me, I rest my back on it as tears roll down my cheeks. Maybe he is right. Maybe that's why nobody likes me because of my character. I close my eyes in frustration, in need to relax, and a shower sounds so tempting right now. I head towards the bathroom and run the facet. Thank God; at least warm water is available. I change out of my clothes and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I seem hollow, my eyes are puffy and red from crying, and dark circles hang beneath my eyes. My cheeks are flaming, and my nose feels stuffy. The doorbell startles me from my self-pity. Whoever it is, they will go away just wait it out. The bell rang a second time, then a third.

I cover myself with a towel. Walk towards the door, peek from the peephole, and every movement is made automatically. What is he doing here? Didn't he already make me feel like trash? As I open the door, I say, "Wasn't what you already said enough? What do you want now? A round two of insulting me?"

"I want to apolog-,”

"I don't need your apology; I want you gone. Gone from my doorstep and gone from my life. Forever."

"Can you just -"

"No.”

"Please, let me -”

"Leave now.”

"DO YOU EVER SHUT UP?" he yelled. His face was bright red. His brows furrowed, and his pupils were a dilated, dangerous black. A vein was jumping in his neck.

"You show up here. In my house, after belittling me to apologize and have the audacity to yell at me because I do not want to listen to any of your absurd lecturing. You shouldn't even be here."

He stares at me intensely, breathing hard.

His arms unexpectedly shot out. He grabs my face and smashes his lips to mine. Kissing me hard, pouring all emotion onto it. He stalks into the house, pushing me against the wall. My towel pulls lower, and he takes advantage of that, turning his head slightly downwards towards my neck, leaving hickeys and harsh bites.

"Interesting. What a fascinating way to shut you up. I should have thought of it sooner." he murmurs onto my skin.

"You cocky bastard. Get out now."

"Hush, you. We both know we wanted this for a really long time. Let me make you feel good." His movements now are slow and deliberate, downright teasing. Sucking at my collarbones, then the tops of my breasts.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Were you about to take a shower?"

A breathless "Yes" was the only answer he received. He wraps his lips around my nipple sucking at it, circling it with his tongue, lapping and kissing.

"I can't change your plans now, can I? Maybe I should join you. And make it up to you. Show how sorry I am. What do you think?" His words are muffled, his mouth full by my other breast.

"I think… that we should enter the second door to the right down the hall” I say, moaning.

And that we do. I jump and wrap my legs around him. The towel is long forgotten on the floor. We bumped into the threshold of the bathroom door, the shower was running, the window was fogged up, and we both entered under the soft drizzle of the showerhead. Remus cursed before claiming that it was “too bloody hot, almost scalding” and I glared at him. He simply fired a smirk at me before pressing me into the wall. My legs are hanging loosely around him as he presses into me. His shirt is soaked just like his pants, and I would be able to make out every hard ridge in his body, from his abs to his cock. He grabs my hands and pins them just above my head. He slowly grinds on me, and I try to rotate my hips or even move them, but to no avail. He is simply too strong, and the bastard chuckles at my torment.

“You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?” He mouths at my breast, and he continues his movements. If the darned fabric of his trousers was there, he would easily be inside me and rocking me the way he did now. But, they offered a terribly good friction to my clit. One that quickly made me see stars and stained his pants.

I pant as I come down from my high, and he positions me in front of the cold glass on trembling legs. He has a good grip on my waist as he pushes me flush to the glass. My nipples hurt from the pressure, and the cold temperature and my neck stained to the side. I feel at my backside, his bare skin and his cock rubbing at the arch of my back, and I move my ass backwards, trying to get closer to him. He bites at the lobe of my ear, pulling at it before delivering a hard smack on my ass. I jumped slightly at the contact before moaning. He smirks at my neck as he trails his hand on my clit and he gently thumbs it. My eyes roll back as he enters one finger into my tight hole. He is knuckle deep as he curls his long slender finger, and he tries to find my g-spot. He draws back, and a small whine escapes me before he presses back with two fingers. He scissors them and curls them in the rhythm of my movement as I try to ride them. With his other hand, he alternates between twiking my nipple, fondling my breasts, and spanking my ass. Soon enough, I am once again over the edge and coming down hard.

He enters me from behind before I can catch my breath, and he fists my hair into his hand and draws my back to his shoulder.

“Scream for me, love. Tell the world how good I make you feel.”

His pace is relentless, my skin slaps against his, and the glass and silent screams exit my mouth. I am long gone from this world, too far deep into the pleasure. If anyone was to enter into the bathroom, he would see two breasts stuck into the glass, the body attached to them appearing and disappearing in a crazy fast pace and two hands trying to grab the smooth surface. He would also hear moans, groans, and curses accompanying the soft music of their bodies.

Remus grabs the running shower head, and he selects the most powerful option before positioning it on my clit. My eyes fly open, and a long scream sounds; that could be his name strangled out. We both hit our pick as I tighten impossibly around him, and he draws the water away, trying to be gentle with my overstimulated and sensitive body. I stay in his embrace, unable to move and trying to understand what the hell just happened.

“We should fight more often. If this is how it's going to end.” He says, chuckling as he bites my shoulder and grabs handfuls of my flesh.

No … yes … I hate him … thoughts travel too fast into my head, and he is still inside me. I clench around him, and he hisses in pain. Maybe we should do it again to get my payback…

words: 1.347

#remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus x you #marauders x you #marauders x reader

[cevansbrat0007]

The Lonely Hearts Club: Part Two

Summary: Full Story! Breaking up with Andrew Barber is hard to do. You of all people should know, considering you just tried. Now what? Read Part One.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Discussions of Break-ups, Fun with Exes, Jealousy, Andy Being a Menace, Confident Reader, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Expect Additional Future Warnings, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @atkissoflife, @that-one-anxious-mango, and @piscesmermaidprincess. This multi-part fic features a combination of requests from the likes of @writer84, @lexivass, @moejdaw, and several others. It is also, part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

___

February 15th - 12:25am - Los Angeles, CA

Wow. Just...wow.

You stare down at your phone as you wait for the bartender to bring you your check. While you had initially been prepared for Andy to be upset over your note, as well as your pretty abrupt departure, you certainly hadn't expected this.

If anything, he seemed almost...unbothered. By all of it. Granted, it was sometimes hard to gauge a person's tone via text. But you'd also been in a relationship with the man for the better part of six freaking months! At this point, one could argue that you were practically fluent in Andrew Barber and all of his fucking moods.

The guy was up to something, without a doubt. Which meant that you were now officially on high alert. Because your man - your ex - had never been the type to play fair.

Especially where you were concerned. You should've known that it was gonna take a hell of a lot more than a handwritten letter and a box of artisanal muffins to knock some sense into his stubborn ass.

"Argh! You are such a fucking ogre, Andrew!" You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Why can't you ever make things easy?"

The next time you look up it's to see the bartender returning with your credit card. She goes to hand it over, only for you to interrupt her mid-sentence.

What was her name again? You could've sworn it started with a "D".

"Sorry, I know I said I was ready to close out. But since men are stupid, I think I'm gonna need another margarita. Quite possibly two."

Delta gives you a sympathetic nod before pocketing your card once more. "You got it, sweetie. Still want sugar instead of salt?"

"Yes, please." You mumble, reminding yourself that it was okay to feel annoyed. Because you were. This was supposed to be your time, damn it. You deserved to take some space for yourself!

Even if it meant sitting alone at a hotel bar, missing the one person you loved more than anything, the day after motherfucking Valentine's Day. Cheers, bitches.

___

Two Weeks Later – Somewhere in Downtown Boston

Andrew Barber stares blankly at his computer screen, mindlessly tapping his index finger against his temple as a fresh wave of anger courses through his veins. 

He’d been so good the last two weeks. So patient and understanding. He’d given you your space, just like you’d asked. Never intruding with the exception of the text he shot off that night.

Even when he’d come across your latest Instagram post from a few days ago showing off your apparent date with another man. Some pretentious looking fucker who went by Russell Cromwell. You two had looked real cozy while sharing a plate full of Birria tacos. And then you’d posed outside of the restaurant with your arms wrapped around his waist. 

But the real kicker had been the last photo in the carousel. The one where you’d kissed him on the cheek – when you’d done the “knee thing” that actresses used to do in those old black and white movies you loved to watch so much.

Oh yeah. The two of you would be having a discussion about that one real soon. His wayward Baby Girl could count on that shit. 

Honestly, you had no idea how hard falling back had been for him. It had been a real struggle. Because at his core, Andrew Barber was a man of action. He was well-known for his cunning and mental prowess. This was a man who had graduated at the top of his class, who had then gone on to become the youngest District Attorney in the city of Boston’s history. 

And in times of crisis, he was someone you could count on to remain calm and collected while you worked towards a solution. Nothing could shake him, save for the trial and media circus that had briefly surrounded his late son. 

After that particular tragedy, Andy had resigned himself to being alone. Forever. He often tried to convince himself that he preferred it that way. Andrew Barber didn’t do love. Not after what happened with his ex-wife, Laurie. He was better off living a life of no commitment. 

Even if it meant a lot of lonely nights filled with a seemingly endless revolving door of meaningless one-night stands. 

And then he’d met you. 

Yes, you.

The woman who had somehow, against all odds, brought magic back into his life. Your laugh, your smile, your very presence – it colored his whole goddamn world. He told you that all of the time, and yet it was almost as if you didn’t believe him.

At first, he was convinced that you were too good to be true. Although he’d been quickly dispelled of that notion when you’d had the balls to walk out on him during your very first date. It’s quite possible that he’d fallen for you right then – because you were the type of woman who knew her worth.

By then, Andy had become convinced that you were a gift from the universe. The way he saw it, after everything he’d been through, he was owed you. You were the woman of his dreams – his very salvation – all wrapped up in a curvy little package. And when you ran that night, it called to the primal part of him that felt compelled to give chase. 

Just like now.

But what you had yet to understand was that, once a man like Andrew Barber had deemed you his forever, there was no going back. There was no letting you go. No means of escape.

At most, he’d been granted you a temporary reprieve. You both needed time to assess the situation, survey the damage, and then calculate your next move. 

And sweetness, you’d already played your hand when you’d left that little note skipped town under the pretense of taking a fucking business trip.

Fine. Now it was on him. And while you still held most of the cards, that certainly didn’t mean that Andrew Barber was walking around without an ace or two in his back pocket. And you had better believe that he was more than ready to play his own. 

But first…he needed some fucking coffee. And lucky for him, he knew just where he could find the perfect cup – shot of chocolate, dash of cinnamon, hold the whip. 

___

Forty Minutes Later – Monarch Media Group (20 Minutes Outside Downtown Boston)

You lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. For the life of you, you simply couldn’t seem to focus today. Or any other day for the matter.

Even though it had been almost a week since you’d returned from your trip to L.A., you still felt just as conflicted about things with Andrew Barber as you did before you’d left. And not only that, but you also found yourself feeling on edge about the entire situation.

Because after your brief text exchange the morning of February 15th, he’d left you alone. The most impatient man you’d ever encountered this side of Boston had actually found it within himself to respect your wishes. 

No calls. No texts. No emails. Not even so much as a fucking smoke signal.

And while part of you was pleased with that particular development, there was no denying the fact that you missed your Big Man. 

You could be woman enough to admit it. You missed the hell out the handsome, grumpy-faced district attorney who, up until recently, had been a major mainstay in your life. But after some serious soul searching and a generous amount of tequila, you’d come to the conclusion that it was important for you to get your mind right before moving forward with anything.

You owed it to yourself to figure out who you were outside of your relationship with Andy – needed it even. Because that man was a force to be reckoned with. He could be so dominant sometimes, his personality so completely all-consuming that it was easy to lose yourself in him. 

To allow yourself to become so entirely eclipsed by his brilliant shadow. Which is something that could absolutely happen the moment you stopped paying attention to your own wants, and needs, and desires.

And if that ever were to happen, part of you wondered whether or not you would be able to find your way back. Honestly, you had no idea.

Because after all of this, if you chose to be with him…it would mean that you were all-in. There was no other option with him.

That beautifully stubborn man didn’t have a lower setting.   

However, the last thing you’d ever expected was for Mr. Andrew “My Way or the Highway” Barber to go quietly into that good night. Well, suppose you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Because if anything he could very well be planning–

Your inner musings are interrupted by Anya, your favorite receptionist at Monarch Media Group. Granted, she was also the only receptionist at the company you’d worked for over the last several years, but that was neither here nor there.

Anya gives you a knowing look before taking a seat on the edge of your desk. “Hi, friend.” She lightly pokes your shoulder. “How ya doin?”

“I’m okay.” You blow out a breath and then decide to exit out of your Outlook. “What’s up?”

“Oh…nothing much.” You watch as your friend and coworker helps herself to a piece of chocolate sitting in a nearby dish. 

“Okay.”

“I just stopped by to tell you that your coffee has arrived.” She dutifully unwraps it before popping it in her mouth.

“What?”

You hadn’t ordered any coffee. You didn’t usually even drink the stuff this late in the day. Unless…

“Yep. And just so happens, it was hand-delivered by the handsomest door-dasher I ever did see.” Anya pokes your shoulder again. “I would’ve accepted it on your behalf, but the guy insists on giving it to you himself. Probably angling for a tip if you ask me.” She throws you a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Andrew “Check Out My Shit Timing” Barber.

“Ugh.” You bury your head in your hands to muffle your cry of frustration. “Can you please just tell him I’m not here?”

“I’m afraid I already let that cat out of the bag. But by the look on your face and the way you’re rocking back and forth like a human pinball, I take it I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No!” 

“Did you and Andy like…break up…or something?” Anya pauses as she reaches for another piece of candy, her hand hovering in mid-air.

No, Anya. I always feel like jumping out the nearest window. I’m fucking squirrley like that.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You wail. “It’s just…it’s just really fucking complicated, okay?” 

“Gotcha. So…about the coffee…” 

“I’m going. I’m going.” You stand up in a huff, wishing you knew where you put the ponytail holder that had been on your wrist just this morning. “But if he pisses me off, I’m dumping that shit on his shoes. Hot or not. I do not care.”

“Okay, but if it comes to that can you please try to do it off company property? I’m all for you handling your business, but I’m also thinking about all the paperwork I’m gonna have to do if you accidentally injure one of the city’s hottest attorneys.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you stalk towards the front of the office to confront the annoying asshole who also happened to be the love of your life. 

“What can I say? I’m a selfish bitch.” She chirps, blowing you a kiss.

“Your words not mine. And stay the hell out of my chocolate, you mooch!” You call out as you turn the corner, fully intending to give the Boston D.A. a piece of your mind before you politely, and very firmly, shoved him out the door. 

Because if that man thought that he could just waltz right into your place of business and act like he owned everything and everyone, then he was sorely mistaken. You were going to prove to him, and whoever the hell’s job it was to oversee this whole godforsaken cosmos, that you knew how to stand your ground.  

The sight of him standing right there in the lobby is easily enough to temporarily rob you of all reasonable thought. His back is to you, giving you the brief opportunity to give him a thorough once-over. His tailored white dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his brawny forearms. But what really draws your attention are his slate gray slacks, which only serves to highlight his perfectly sculpted backside. 

He looked good. Nobody deserved to look that damned good, least of all your ex-boyfriend. 

Wait. Is that – is that what he was now? Is…is that how all of this worked? Fuck! 

You note the lack of tension in his broad shoulders. All things considered, he seemed pretty relaxed. But the real question was…how long could it be expected to last?

Andy picks that moment to turn around, his bright blue eyes locking with your own as an eager grin slowly spreads its way across his handsome features. You take a steadying breath and choose to ignore it. 

“Andrew.” You exhale, trying your best to appear unaffected by his presence. It was a lie, of course. But if you managed to keep this unexpected interaction short and sweet, you just might be able to pull it off. “Wh–what are you doing here?”

“Hi.” He cocks his head to the side as he drinks you in, almost as if he’s amused by your disgruntled demeanor.

“Hello.” You cross your arms over your chest, wishing that you had chosen to wear a different sweater today. Andy loved you in this color, especially because of how it paired with your particular skin tone. 

“Happy Wednesday, baby.” 

God, he really needed to lose that stupid smile. Otherwise, how on earth were you supposed to maintain your composure? 

“Sure.”

“Brought you something.” Andy holds out one of the cups of coffee he’s carrying. “Figured you might be able to use a little pick-me-up.” 

“Thanks, but I’m good.” You tell him with a shake of your head. 

“What? Since when?” He rears back before offering up a playful pout. “We always get coffee together on Wednesdays. It’s our thing…our little afternoon delight.” This time you’re treated to a wink.

“Shh!” You hiss, bridging the distance between your bodies to slap a hand across his mouth. “Don’t say that!” 

The last thing you needed was someone to overhear that and think you two used to sneak away sometimes in the afternoon to…to well…you know. Some of the people you worked with possessed very vivid imaginations.

And besides, that whole afternoon delight business had only happened once or twice. Okay, quite possibly four and a half times – and then one more after that. 

Amusement sparkles in his gaze as he stares you down. And then you feel the faint flick of his tongue brush across your palm. When you don’t react he does it again, this time following it up with an exaggerated groan. 

You immediately jerk your hand away as if you’ve just been burned. Knowing that things were only bound to get worse, you snatch one of the coffees before grabbing his arm and dragging him outside and into the unseasonably warm weather. 

Thank goodness for small favors.

The smell of spring was definitely in the air these days, but all you can focus on is the sound of Andy’s laughter trailing behind you. Frankly, it’s enough to set your teeth on edge. Even still, he allows you to lead him down the street. At some point there’s a slight shift that results in your relinquishing his arm so that he can lace his fingers through yours.   

But you'll allow it if it means that he’ll behave for as long as it takes to make it to your destination. Which just so happens to be an empty bench located at the edge of a nearby park.

To his credit, the attractive buttface at your side doesn’t say anything during your impromptu power walk, but he also doesn’t need to. Because after two long weeks without you, the man was probably venturing into serious touch-starved territory. 

You knew it. And so did he. So part of you didn’t see the harm in giving him this one, small thing.  

Relief fills you when you finally reach the bench. Of course Andy sits first before pulling you down with him – but thankfully not onto his lap. Although you’re positive that the thought was there.

Eventually he lets go of your hand. Unsure of what else to do, you finally take a sip of your coffee. The rich, slightly bitter flavor of chocolate and mocha bursts onto your tongue, followed immediately by a quick hint of cinnamon.

Mm. A perfect cup.

“I’ve missed you, baby girl.” Andy’s large, lightly calloused hand cups your face – the roughened pad of his thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “It hasn’t been a very fun couple of weeks.”

“I know.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed. Perhaps you were just as starved for affection as he was. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you miss me?” His tone is gruff, but there’s no mistaking the emotion behind his words. Or the pain in his eyes for that matter. 

“I did, Andy.” So much.

“But you still left. Tried to break up with me before hopping on a plane and running off all the way to L.A. to share some chips and queso with good ol’ Rusty.” Your eyes fly open as Andy’s hand drops away. “Or did I read that wrong?” 

How the fuck had he known where you where? You hadn’t included anything about your intended destination in your letter…

“I saw it on your Instagram, in case you were wondering. Was actually able to use that stupid account you set up for me after all.” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he narrows his gaze, trying to read your expression. “Couldn’t really get much else, although I enjoyed those pics of you at the beach.”

“It was a work trip.” You remind him, suddenly feeling defensive. “And Russell is an old friend, nothing more.”

“Hm.” Andy quirks an annoyed brow. “Are we talking about the kind of friend who also  accompanies you to the beach so you can show off your brand new bikini? Not that I’m complaining any about that gorgeous, sunkissed glow you’ve got going on, princess.” 

His big body is certainly tense, but there’s no ignoring the feral gleam in his eyes. Almost as if he’s dying to undress you and spend the next several hours checking you for tan lines. 

And he would, too. It’s not like it would be the first time. 

“I went alone. Russell stayed behind for that one.” You roll your eyes at the sight of his nostrils flaring. “Jesus Christ, dude! I know you may not believe that I’m a big girl, but I am. And if I wanna go hang out at the beach by myself, then that’s exactly what I’m gonna do!”

Which was exactly what the fuck you’d done. And it had been positively marvelous. 

“Fine.” He grunts, raising his palm towards the heavens. “God forgive me for having the sense to worry about my girl, especially since the last time I checked, she still couldn’t swim for shit.”

“Whatever, Andrew. This girl does whatever the hell she wants now, so you had better get used to it.” Your mouth is set in a thin, firm line while you silently dare him to disagree.

“I’m not quite sure how that’s different from any other day with you, but alright.” Andy tries to calm himself by playing with a stray curl that’s fallen free from your bun. “You’re still mine, sweetness. Even when you insist on being a brat. Or did you somehow forget that part?”

You swat at his hand instead of responding, hating that steady feeling of warmth that was currently pooling in your belly. 

“Did you?”

You make a show of ignoring him in favor of enjoying what was left of your coffee.

“You know, they say that sometimes silence speaks louder than words, baby girl.” You find yourself resisting the urge to clench your thighs together at the sound of the dark chuckle that rumbles through his chest. “It’s alright, though. Guess I’ll just have to remind you again once we get past this little wall you’re trying to put up between us.”

He gifts you with a flash of his pearly white teeth. Andrew Barber was the type of man who would only let you get away with so much before he put his foot down. And you would do well to remember that. 

“Pretty sure you meant to say “actions”, jackass.” Apparently he finds your acerbic wit funny as well.

“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways.” Andy shrugs before going back to toying with your curls. “But I think you should know that I’m not very happy with you, baby. And I’m trying to be patient here, but it’s kinda difficult when I can’t even get you to talk to me.”

“I was going to call you…” That wasn’t a lie. You had just been trying to drum up the mental fortitude you knew it would take to pick up the phone and actually dial his number. Sometimes, dealing with Andrew Barber could require some serious patience. 

“Were you now?” He doesn’t believe you. You can hear it in his voice.

“I was.”

“Okay, then have dinner with me tonight.” He releases your curl, watching the way it bounces as it springs free.

“Andy.” You let out an exhausted sigh.

“Meet me at my place. I’ll swing by Imperial Wok and pick up a few of your favorites so we can eat. And then we can talk in a quiet, private setting without any interruptions. How does that sound, princess?”

“Wonderful.” The word slips out before you can catch it. “But I–I can’t.”

Andrew Barber’s excited smile dies on his lips the moment that phrase reaches his ears and registers in his brain. As much as you hated to admit it, being alone with this man wasn’t a very good idea right now – especially behind closed doors.

Because while you’d never seen the man in court, you’d definitely heard plenty of stories about his ruthlessness. And you knew firsthand just how persistent he could be when he was determined to get his way. 

When Andy wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. Not only was he relentless, but he also wasn’t above using every tool at his disposal – including sex – if it meant having you back in his life. It wouldn’t matter all that much to him how it came about.

The same way he wouldn’t care if whether or not your desired reconciliation only happened because he’d lured you into his bed before fucking you back into submission. 

“The fu–why the hell not?” He growls, his hand grips the arm of the wooden bench so hard his knuckles go white.

“Because I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” The pronounced tick in his jaw makes it clear that he’s beyond frustrated by your refusal. 

Unfortunately, that was too damned bad! By the time this was all said and done, your handsome ogre was going to have mastered the art of having some goddamned patience. At least you hoped that would be the case…

“Both.” You offer your Big Man a small apologetic smile as you rise from your seat. “Let’s plan for sometime next week. Maybe we can shoot for Monday. I’ll, uh, send you a text or something and we can find a place to meet. But I really need to get back to work now.”

Andy stares at you for what feels like a full minute as his impressive brain works overtime to figure out his next move. And then he stands up before taking your empty cup and discarding them both in a nearby trash bin.

“Alright.” He mutters with a nod in your direction. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for your message then. Now, let’s get you back to your office.” A lump forms in your throat when he wraps a muscled arm around your shoulders as you two begin walking back the way you came. 

Fuck, you really hated this shit. But if this relationship was ever going to have a chance of working, you had to continue standing your ground. Even though it hurt like hell.

“I, um...I know you said that we probably won’t be able to sit down and talk until next week. And I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from with that, but while I have you now…” He lightly coughs into his elbow.

You glance up at your hotshot attorney, trying to figure out where he was going with this so that you could potentially cut him off at the pass.

“I at least wanted to say “thank you” in person for still agreeing to help Lydia with the charity gala this Saturday. I’m sure that it wasn’t an easy decision for you, especially given how things have been between us lately. But I really do appreciate it. And, frankly, I’m sure the kids at St. Augustine’s do too.” 

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reminder of this weekend’s event all-but smacks in the face. “Shit!” You hiss, pulling away from Andy as you reach your building. “It’s this Saturday? Are you sure?”

 “I am.” He confirms, his eyes filled with surprise. “I just spoke with Lydia yesterday when I–”

“Fuck!” You exclaim as your hands fly to your hips, uncaring that you just interrupted whatever it was he was about to say. 

In all of the chaos, you’d completely forgotten that you had agreed to help the wife of one of Andy’s colleagues with her annual charity ball. Starting by arriving at the hotel early Saturday morning to aid in the event setup, before heading up to your room to get ready for the evening's festivities.

A room that had been booked during a time when you and Andy were on much better terms.     

“She did mention that she sent all of the volunteers an email a couple days ago with a list of instructions. Maybe it got buried in your inbox, baby.” He rests his hands on your biceps, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “But she is definitely expecting you and I’m afraid it’s probably too late for you to back out at this point.”

Deep down you knew he was right. And quite honestly, you wouldn’t even dream of doing something like this close to the actual date of the gala. But there was still the issue of having to share a hotel room with your ex.

Closing your eyes, you force yourself to take a deep breath. “I–I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that big of an asshole. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to share a room…” You trail off, hoping that he would at least be somewhat understanding of your current plight.

“Ahh.” You can see the moment when realization finally dawns. “Right. Almost forgot about that.”

No, he actually hadn’t. But since Andy didn’t feel as though there was any real need for you to know that, he was going to keep that particular tidbit to himself. Even he was capable of showing some restraint every now and again.   

“Like I said…” You find yourself anxiously bouncing on your toes. “I don’t think –”

“I get it, sweetheart.” 

Wait. He did? Just like that?

“You do?”

“I do.” His words are accompanied by a lopsided grin. 

He didn’t. But then again, you didn’t need to know that either.

Andy’s hands leave your arms so that he can tenderly cup the sides of your face instead. “You just leave it all to me, baby girl. I’ll call the hotel and change the reservations.”

“You will?” You place your smaller hands overtop of his own. “You…you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Andy leans down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “And I promise to be on my best behavior Saturday night.” He gives you another kiss, which you allow. “If you want, I’ll even send over the updated confirmation info.” 

“Thank you.” You murmur, wishing that you could give-in just a little more and offer up your lips for a kiss. A real one this time. 

But you couldn’t afford to do that. Not even when Mr. Andrew “Give Me A Gold Star For Being Helpful” Barber was acting sweet. That would only throw everything off balance all over again. 

Andy’s heated gaze drops to your mouth before he slowly pulls away. “Don’t work too hard, okay?” His husky voice sends one last tiny flutter through your belly. 

“Same goes for you.” You tell him as you begin to head into the building.

“Goodbye, baby girl.” 

“Goodbye, Andrew. See you Saturday.” 

He waits until you’re safely inside and out of sight before turning on his heel and proceeding in the direction of his car. Oh, you’d be seeing him on Saturday alright. And he would be on his best behavior – depending on just how much patience he could muster. 

You two would be sorting this shit out then, whether you liked it or not. When it was over, you’d both spend the rest of the weekend making up for lost time. And Andrew was going to do everything in his power to ensure you enjoyed every fucking second of it. Just like he planned to enjoy getting reacquainted with that delicate sweetness between those luscious thighs. But first…

He needed to go make a call.

END

*Part Three Coming Soon...*

___

Unofficial tag list -

@blueraspberryreader

@openup-yourmind

#cevansbrat0007 fics #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x you #andy barber x you #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #chris evans x black!reader #andy barber x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #andy barber x woc!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #andy barber x poc!reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #andy barber x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x female!reader #andy barber x female!reader #cevansbrat0007growing pains series #chris evans x yn #andy barber x yn #chris evans x y/n #andy barber x y/n #chris evans x fem!reader #andy barber x fem!reader #chris evans angst #andy barber angst

[xthelastknownsurvivorx]

I know that we in the fandom like to joke about how alex is loud, hot-headed, stubborn, prideful, and honestly a little stupid at times. And don't get me wrong, he is all of those things. Even Alex himself acknowledges it. But I think it's important to acknowledge that (aside from the undiagnosed adhd) Alex is likely this way partially because he needs to be a lot of these things to get listened to as a half-Mexican man in the public eye who is visibly not white. If he didn't take up space, people aren't going to give it to him. Yes, Alex needs to own when he's being obnoxious, especially if it hurts someone, but also he doesn't do it out of pretentiousness or arrogance on the whole.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #rwarb #rwrb fic #rwarb spoilers

[findafight]

On Steve understanding those pretentious metaphorical films (I know, we'vepretty much moved on at this point, but) I do think it would get Jonathan questioning reality a little bit, but I think the person it would really mindfuck is Nancy

Because she's a very straightforward person but she also fancies herself the smartest person in the room at all times, which doesn't slot itself into this context very well. As does Jonathan, she has this perception that Steve is an idiot, but while Jonathan is having to contend with Steve being on level with him on this one, Nancy is having to grapple the idea that Steve intrinsically grasps something that she for the life of her can't figure out

-@fandsart

I sent this a few days ago, but I think tumblr has been eating my asks. You aren't the only person I've sent one to recently that hasn't been answered. Anyway, I know this has largely been moved past, but on the whole "Jonathan having a crisis over Steve understanding the metaphorical and complicated foreign films" thing. I think that Jonathan might have a hard time with that and start questioning his judgment of people, yes, but the person really questioning reality as a whole about it is Nancy. Because while both Jonathan and Nancy have this low perception of Steve's ability to comprehend thing, Nancy specifically fancies herself as the smartest person in the room at all times, but she can't understand these things for the life of her. She's angry and confused and trying to convince herself that she's neither of these things

I got it! I started writing a response and saved as a draft and didn't get back to it! Honestly I love going back to things talked about a while ago so don't feel weird about that!

I agree! I also think it'd be interesting to apply this to horror movies, which often serve as allegories for other things. Like I can see them watching Carrie and Steve commenting that it's kind of weird that a story about the trauma of adolescents for girls was written by a man. Which is maybe heavy handed but it's something that Nancy would feel like she should have picked up on and be frustrated that she didn't. No one is doing adolescent teenager girl trauma like Nancy!!

But it's just not how her brain works. She likes facts and figures, interviews and observations. Metaphors aren't really in real life, though we use them to understand things, they aren't always straight forward. While Nancy wants to research and discover things, she possibly isn't interested in more... obscured meanings of things. (we sort of see this when she dismisses the alien newspaper, when they were actively looking for clues about something that could break all of someones without touching them!) and this might also influence how she views steve and his intelligence and how he views and interpret things.

She does think she's correct and how she thinks and sees things. and that frustration and stubbornness about being right would make her more frustrated because now that it's been pointed out to her, she sees it, but she didn't figure it out herself. It's an interesting way for her to try to grapple with having her worldview challenged!

With jon I think he would feel kind of off-kilter and embarrassed that Steve of all people got it, that this wasn't something he could feel he was better at than Steve or any random person. So that would maybe shift his view of Steve more than himself, but still both?

#findaanswers #fandsart #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #stranger things #just. steve letting out random but insightful observations and surprising people! #he thinks in metaphors and tries to process in metaphors

[fictionalwhxre]

Shit yes, Billy would be such an asshole! Buuuut imagine when you finally get to yours and you go to ignore him and he’s like Um hold up, no kiss??

Fuuuuuck, the hold this man has on me.

Okay but like he would totally do this, deep down he loves you, he really does. But he’s also super stubborn and will always wait for you to speak first but when you don’t? Well this is when you’ve got him where you want him.

Billy stops at the end of your drive way and you don’t even take a beat as you head to your door. He finally realised you’re not gonna even stop and part of his resolve slips as he clears his throat to get your attention. You turn to face him waiting, neither one of you willing to be the first to give in.

He stares at you raking his eyes up and down, you can feel the flush creep up your neck but you refuse to look away, refuse to be the one to give in. You raise your eyebrow slightly taunting him into making the first move. The smirk on his face saying enough as he slowly makes his way towards you not saying a single word and not taking his eyes off you.

Billy stops barely a step in front of you, you can practically feel the heat from his body as you take in his silent stare. You know your resolve is crumbling but you push through it, not willing to give this to him. Lucky for you Billy is also internally crumbling, he keeps it better hidden but he can’t let you leave like this, he needs your comfort, your touch, your smile. Anything to keep him grounded that you’re real and you’re with him.

“You gonna leave without even saying goodnight sweetheart.” You try to stop the corner of your lips from raising, knowing you have him where you want him. “Goodnight,” you simply say while turning around to reach for your door handle. Opening the door slightly Billy pushes it shut from behind you, enclosing you in between his arms as you turn back to face hun. “Is there something else you need Billy?” You say slowly, watching the way he watches your lips move as you say his name.

“You’re killing me princess.” He places a soft kiss to your cheek, you feel yourself melt but you like seeing him struggle. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you spoke to me like that,” giving a soft push to his chest, you both know this little ruse you two are playing won’t last too much longer. Billy continues kissing your cheek, slowly trailing down to your neck, “come on, you know I didn’t mean it baby.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, I think you’re gonna have to do better than that.” You feel him smile against your neck when you try to hold back a giggle. “Yeah? What, you want me to get on my knees and beg or something?” You finally let out the laugh you were holding back, “ that would be a good start.” You expect him to continue on with his teasing tone, what you didn’t expect was him dropping to his knees in front of you pulling your hand down to press kisses to the pulse point of the inside of your wrist.

“Billy! What are you doing?” You try to hush your laughs as your smile matches the huge grin Billy is wearing. “I can’t let my best girl be mad at me, can I?” You roll your eyes as he carry’s on dramatically, you loved when he was like this. With no one around he didn’t have to put up a front. Didn’t have to pretend to be anyone other than himself. “What do you say baby girl? You gonna take me back? Forgive your extremely hot boyfriend for being, what was it you called me?” “A pretentious dick?” His smile grows as he presses another kiss to your hand, “a pretentious dick. Right now could I forget?” You let out another laugh as he continues, “so what do you say baby? Gonna forgive me?”

You pretend to think about it for a second before letting out a sigh, “well I suppose I can…” you don’t even get to finish before Billy has you in his arms and is spinning you around, you let out a squeal as you try to hold the bottom of your skirt to keep from flashing the neighbours, “Billy! Put me down!” You laugh as he slowly lowers you pulling you in for a passionate kiss as his tongue gently slides across your bottom lip. Eventually the two of you pull away slightly breathless. “Goodnight baby,” he goes to pull away but you pull him back, “hey not so fast, I don’t think you’re done making it up to me yet,” you smirk as you open your door and pull him in with you. His hands find your hips as he pulls you flush against him, “anything for you princess.”

#billy hargrove fluff #billy hargove x reader #billy stranger things #billy x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #stranger things aesthetic #stranger things

[repurposedmeatlocker]

Share some of your music-related hot takes?

MAN...real loaded question anon. Where do I even begin??

It is hard to answer specifically because music taste is subjective. Something I feel is a hot take might be considered a common opinion by others. Anyway, I'll just list some that come off the top of my head.

While I am a big fan of 70's progressive rock, I do think it leaned on obnoxious pretentiousness around the later iteration of the decade. Most clearly seen in albums like Tales from Topographic Oceans by Yes, and most of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer's discography. ELP especially suffered for it. I still enjoy a few of their tracks, but many others just come off as...too much. If that makes sense. I can see where criticism lies when people say it became too obtuse.

On that note about prog, I think many of these groups eras in the 80s were really GOOD and commendable! Yes and Genesis knew they had to change their approach, and went head-first in exploring soundscapes in a way that, in my opinion, helped to re-invent the standards of modern pop music. I mean, you look at things like the work done by Peter Gabriel, Phil Collins, Yes's "Owner of a Lonely Heart", Adrian Belew era King Crimson. The production is stellar in combining prog mentality to pop standards. People that look down on these eras as them "selling out" don't know what they are talking about, and maybe are just pretentious old-fart haters themselves.

People who claim that "all hip-hop sounds the same" haven't actually taken the time to explore the genre. Also these people have to come to terms with the fact that their "reasoning" against the hip hop/rap (let's be real and include disco as well) are explicitly racist.

Similar argument can be made to people that hate country music for "all sounding the same". Please just explore the genres and artists! You don't have to say it is your favorite, but idk it is frustrating how stubborn some people can be when it comes to branching out to other music. People should be more open to trying things. Rock music fans should explore pop. Pop fans should explore hard-core musicians. There is so much wonderful art in the world. Too much to just selectively choose a single platter to stick to for the rest of your life.

#thanks for the question anon! I hope these suffice #asks #I think I've answered a similar question on my blog before #if there are repeated hot takes sorry lol I do stand by them strongly

[mrsjavierp]

Where you belong?

Chapter 2 - Wasted Times

Javier Peña x latin!f!reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the whole fic): +18!, angst, smut, cheating, last relationships, drug dealing, bad spanish, english is my second language, use of Y/N and Y/LN. No physical description of the reader. The POVs are shifting between reader (first person and Javi's 3rd)

(If I forgot anything, tell me, pls!)

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: thanks so much for all your love and curiosity, I've got 4 chapters written by now, I don't know how many will be nor the ending yet.

To make it fun, lets add a song to it:

Y/N's POV - 1st Person

The weeks flew by without me even noticing: Between an apartment to find furniture, trying to catch up all that they did about Escobar before I arrived, a routine seemed impossible.

Rights and wrongs, new problems and struggling to find solutions.

And, of course, Javier Peña was fulfilling his bad fame towards bosses.

Sometimes, his name tasted like whiskey in my mouth: bitter.

Peña was, in fact, an intelligent agent... But oftentimes got blindsided by his arrogance or for being a pretentious jerk.

Sometimes, his own dick betrayed him.

"Oh, for fuck sakes, Peña! You still don't get it, do you? No, we're not sacrificing a squad like this! We need to be more reasonable! Enough with wasting DEA's resources!"

He made a noise, frustrated.

"Y/LN, things here were always like this. It's not..."

My mocking laugh interrupted him:

"¡Díos mio, Peña! (My God, Peña!) And it worked perfectly, right? And they brought me from hell just to see how beautiful Colombia is? 'Cause this stupid and dated strategy is working... No, we're doing it my way."

Murphy tried to interfere:

"Y/LN, with all due respect..."

My fist hit my table, really fucking angry. They were not expecting this kind of attitude from their "girl boss".

"¡Callarse las bocas! (Shut up!) ENOUGH!" - I screamed. - "If you want to get yourselves killed, be my guest, however, leave my office and this position! I'm not authorizing, not like that. I want to get Escobar as badly as you, but I'm not risking anything. Yes, he's a hijo de puta and would love to shoot his head, but if we do it right, we can make him pay... But with the extradition. I'm not arresting and leaving him here."

Peña left my office, probably seeing red. Murphy took a breath and went right behind.

It was Friday, for fuck's sake. I decided to dismiss all of them earlier. I needed to rest as well.

While everyone was talking their ways, Murphy knocked on the door again:

"Jefe, let's blow-off some of this and get a drink, we all could use." - pointing out Peña as well.

Peña rolled his brown eyes to Steve.

"Gracias, Steve. I'll join you. You better call Connie, she'll be the lightness that we need... No talk about work, dios mio."

Murphy smiled and called to her, to come meet us at the bar.

"You're coming, Peña?" - I invited him, as I got my belongings.

"No, jefe."

"Peña, don't take it personally. Doesn't have to be like this. Let's go get drunk, first one is on me."

He took a deep breath and came with me and Steve.

*

"Mi amor, cuatro tequilas, por favor." (My love, four tequilas, please) - I ordered to the barman, wearing my most charming smile available.

It worked out fine, actually, they came and kept coming as we wished.

Reggaeton with this sensual and smooth rhythm was being played at the sound box, yet, no one was dancing.

Not now, at least.

"Wow, nice, jefe. I think the barman is not leaving... Not without you!" - Murphy and Connie laughed and Javier turned his face, not looking at us.

"That boy is not my type anyway, mi amigo, thanks for the compliment... Well, got us drinks, so served its purpose." - I laughed, trying not to think about going home alone.

"The way you speak Spanish is so natural, so beautiful, Y/N... Are you also a latin, like Javi?" - Connie asked.

"Yes, I'm of Latin origin, but I was born in NYC... My family is pretty much a stereotype of big and latin..." - I looked at Javier, who seemed so far away. - "Javier, I assumed you were indeed, but I hate to be wrong. Nice to have a Latin fellow here."

"I'm Tex-Mex, jefe." - he said, without any emotion in his voice.

*

As the night passed by us, tequila took us far from problems at the DEA. Actually, tequila made us laugh, even made me dance with Connie.

Javier remained quiet and distant. Something felt off about him.

My body was sweating, my skin felt hot. I knew that feeling: I was reaching my alcohol consumption limit.

Truth be told, dancing was the red flag for me.

Whenever I wanted to escape something on my mind, I went out dancing and drinking. Ever since college, ever since I started my career at NYPD, I'd love to escape like this.

I excused myself and went to the restroom, to check the way I looked: not that bad, as a matter of fact, my black dress and heels were okay, my hair a little messy, my red lipstick were lighter than it should be, so I just made a retouch.

When I came back to your table, Murphy was gone, slow dancing with Connie in his arms, Javier was distracted, still very far from us.

I took my seat, across from him.

To crack up a conversation, I started:

"They're so much in love, aren't they? It's genuinely beautiful to see them, when we're used to so much violence..."

"I've got to agree, jefe... I wish I could have that kind of sentiment, to truly feel that..." - He added, appearing bitter.

Honestly, I was bitter myself and agreed:

"Me too, Peña... Me too."

At that moment, we shared this... Look, a bit longer than anything appropriate.

"Why do you hate me, Y/N?"

I laughed, I didn't hate him. He got all wrong, thank God. My cue to go, or else.

"Good night, Peña."

Drunk and horny, I drove back to my place and went to bed, alone.

*

Narrator's POV:

The last thing he heard from her was a lame "Good night, Peña."

He drank up until the last drop of his whiskey.

Javi closed his eyes, wishing her.

No, craving.

Javier paid his part of the check and left it to one of his... Girl who wasn't his friend.

"I'm not fucking my fist, not tonight." - it was a promise to himself.

*

About 9 A.M., Javier entered the hall of the apartment complex he lived in.

Not entirely sober, his movements were slow, as he made an effort to find his door, when light, calm steps walked towards the path he passed by just a moment ago.

His head was hurting, his last night clothes smelled like sweat, sex, cigarettes and alcohol.

Took a little while until Javier recognized the beautiful woman wearing a tight gray gym set...

"This can't be happening... You've got to be kidding me..." - Javier grumbled to himself.

She was even hotter wearing those shorts and crop top.

"Peña? What the fuck are you doing here?" - she asked.

"I live in here, Y/LN... Buenos días, vecina." - Javier pulled out his keys, shaking them, wishing to be wrong about Y/N being his neighbor.

"Holyfuck..." - she cursed. - "I thought I would have some peace at home..." - and as she came, she left quickly and slammed the door to the streets.

Peña, with all the strength on his whole body, entered his place and put his body under cold water, ignoring his hard dick.

Well, how could he ignore it?

The cold shower gave what felt like shocks to his skin. It almost hurts, but he couldn't leave like this, so he fucked his fist one more time, as if he haven't been fucking some chick for hours, until dawn.

His handjob was different this time, if so, even worse than any other, his fantasy was so much closer.

Because, now, he knows...

She lives right there.

Just a few steps...

He still felt hated, however, by someone he would and could make hard.

Her words made an eco into his mind:

"Good night, Peña."

"Mi amor, cuatro tequilas por favor."

"Peña..."

Javier Jesus Peña only prays for two things, now:

That he could see his son before he died.

That his fantasies towards Y/N passed as fast as it came. His guilt and inability to do some or anything were almost killing him.

His load blew on him, while he moaned Y/N.

"Death by hard on" - he made a joke, feeling as dirty as when he walked home.

Next

#fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #peña #smut #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javi p #javier pena narcos #javi pena #fanfiction #fic #Spotify #javier pena #javi peña #romance #female reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro boys #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro stories

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

Besides the implied one in your post, what svsss ships are you not into? /for legal reasons this is curiosity and a pls don't block me oh lovely goddess

Ahh lol, there are... a lot more than I have with any other MXTX work. Um, Any to do with Shen Jiu. I hate the romantic fanon reading regarding him and Yue Qingyuan. If you truly loved someone with all your heart (arguably yes, I do think Yue Qingyuan DID, platonically), you would not ever be that cruel to your supposed one and only, or, refuse to make amends to them. Which is the entire epiphany Shen Qingqui has regarding his entire relationship with Luo Binghe and how actions in the now matter more than anything for loving support.

Cum/plan... just... ew. No. Get him away physically from Shen Qingqui or anything with romantic leaning with them. Shen Qingqui doesn't like him and barely maybe finds him tolerable. He doesn't bother even hanging out with him anyways unless it's a PEAK CONFERENCE.

Liu//jiu Come on.... don't fucking do that to Liu Qingge. Despite whatever stubbornness he has, he is very much proto-Lan Wangi and does have standards without liking Shen Jiu for good reason for being a miserable lump of a human that's also pretentious. Despite being STUPID Liu Qingge isn't without honor and doesn't at all like those without it.

Luo Binghe, OUR Luo Binghe, in any polyships. Given he has a harem in the original PIDW because he was trying to find real love and care, it just rubs me the wrong way. Especially since the usual suspects of this force him to be with someone he doesn't like (for very good reason).

Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfan... where does this come from... please stop forcing Liu Qingge with anything that has legs and talks thanks.

Anything that insists that Shen Qingqui could falls for anyone in the story proper other than Luo Binghe. No.

#salt? salt #god the angry heart palpitations these give me #ahahahhahahaha block on sight UwU

[kalopsiawasteland]

“TELL MY FRIENDS I'M COMING DOWN - WE'LL KICK IT ONCE I HIT THE GROUND”

 getting lost in a museum on a sunday, morning runs in a foreign country before the rest of the world has awaken, and vintage cameras and historic leather bounds lining the bookshelves in your room...

INTRODUCING…

NAME: Drae "Rae" Breslyn-Gowda

GENDER & PREFERRED PRONOUNS: Cis Female {She/Her}

AGE: 27

BIRTHDAY: December 31, 1996

ZODIAC: Capricorn Sun, Virgo Rising, Leo Moon

SEXUALITY & ROMANCE: Bisexual

FACE CLAIM: Banita Sandhu

LABEL: The Polymath

OCCUPATION: Archaeologist/Anthropologist

HOMETOWN: Caerleon, South Wales

CURRENT RESIDENCY: Brisbane, AUS.

CHARACTER PLAYLIST: HERE.

UP NEXT: “HARD TIMES” BY PARAMORE

BIOGRAPHY: TW PARENTAL EXPECTATIONS

Drae was born 5 miles from the center of Newport, Wales. Having the perks of being in a small town right outside the city was awesome. Growing up in a traditionalist household, Rae would often sneak off with friends to the city of Newport just to get a new perspective. Most of her nights were spent either drinking on rooftops and looking at the constellations, or sneaking into a museum after hours. Though her parents never found out, Rae didn't let it affect her grades. Rae was always the top of her class. Her parents had huge dreams for her to become a doctor of medicine, but little did they know that the Indiana Jones movies that assisted her father in learning English was the very seed that planted the idea of archaeology. It didn't help that in her down time, she would read and watch mysteries; Her knack being solving puzzles but also being able to debate every outcome. She was able to attend NYU on a full ride scholarship, where she also learned that her heart held a special place for anthropology. Rae didn't know where her life was going, but being out from beneath her parents' expectations was enough air to satisfy her lungs. The space from her parents and the city life allowed Rae to learn who she really was at her core; She was ever-changing and always growing, and she was in love with that fact. Rae was able to travel the world and write various books in regard to her line of work. Currently, she'd been asked to come to Brisbane, AUS, to assist the museum. She excitedly said "yes."

EXTRA-EXTRA, READ ALL ABOUT HER!

Drae comes across as pretentious and a bit of a know it all, due to her intellect and how she carries herself. She's proud of her wit, and will use it in conversation how she sees fit. Though this may rub people the wrong way, her anxiousness fuels her social awkwardness and she tends to be unintentionally funny because of it. Like a two-sided coin, there's this air of hard work and ambition that keeps her head held high in any situation. She tends to be the one people go to about problems in order to get an answer; Though, she does come up with Plans A-Z - not just one solid solution. She loves to read and has piles of books around her room. Slasher movies are her guilty pleasure. She loves sushi and will eat it every day if someone would let her. She has a soft spot for animals. She will get on top of a table if she's had more than one margarita. At the end of the day, Rae is a warm and caring individual with a beautiful brain to match.

PERSONALITY:

+ Ingenious, Adventurous, and Loyal

- Dogmatic, Stubborn, and Confrontational

#bbsfmintro

[tessabennet]

So. *wiggles eyebrows* You're saying if I ask real nice, you'll give me ALL the spoilers? I'm SO VERY tempted right now to ask a million questions and have you spoil the shit out of your own fic. 👀

But where's the fun in that? So much of the excitement of reading the series is in finding out how you're going to deal with certain events/characters/canon fuck-ups and how you're ultimately going to turn this ship around.

So, I will refrain (so generous of me, I know!). Still, if you feel so inclined, can I ask 25 & 35 for the ask game?

Also, since I'm writing this in a sort of vegetative state from my sickbed (yes, please pity me, thank you!), can I ask for a line/snippet from one of the future parts, pretty please?

Thank you!🥰

Noo, J, sorry to hear you're sick. Hope it's nothing too serious 😧

Your restraint is greatly appreciated btw, I know how hard it must be 😜😁 So, here we go with the asks:

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

Bucky's favourite drink is a Mamie Taylor. He never much got to drink it, because the places they usually went to before the war didn't really do cocktails (more like beer and hard liquor, you know?) He rediscovered it in the 21st century, by which point it had also become Steve's favourite - because, well, nowadays the drink is called a Buck.

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

Write what you know is the obvious answer. Like... no? Sir, this is comic book logic. I'm no brain surgeon or neurologist, I'm going on pretentious name dropping and wikipedia alone. I've only been to a tiny fraction of all the places I name in the series; I only know Brooklyn by google maps street view. I never once ran an international intelligence agency or worked as a black ops agent. How the fuck would I ever write anything if it was just me and my life experience??

The other thing I've seen as ""advice"" before is to not use semicolons. Which, fuck that. You can pry those from my cold dead hands because I need them and we're bound for live, it's a love story, etc etc.

As for the snippet you asked for, of course you'll get one! A long one even, right under the cut. It's from the latest chapter I wrote, only just this morning.

I really hope you'll feel better very soon!! Gute Besserung ❤️‍🩹

Because Steve moved back to the Heights. Once he'd found the place, he knew there wouldn't be another choice. He's just a few streets away from the place where, before the war, he was the happiest. Just a few block away from his and Bucky's old place.

A few years ago he probably wouldn't have been willing to pay for his new place. Able, maybe, but too stubborn to give in to the insane prices that a place in Brooklyn will cost in this century.

Except the prices have gone way down since the Snap. Fewer people in the world means fewer people with the kind of money that can afford a condo like this. In fact, the apartment Steve got here is probably way below the kind of place he could afford. He started realising way back when he first moved to DC that there's a whole new world of apartments that he could afford, way more luxurious than this one. He never cared for that shit, and he's not starting now.

This condo's more than enough, really. It's a quiet street, relatively speaking. It's only a short way to work. He's close to Cadman Plaza, which opened in 1939, when he and Bucky were still living in Montague Street. It feels familiar. Steve sometimes goes by the War memorial on his way home. Somehow, that feels way more sincere than the showy statue of Captain America in Prospect Park. After all, Captain America never lived in Brooklyn; he never set foot in it, not really. In Brooklyn, Steve's ever only been some guy. A mouthy one, yes, but nothing special.

Bucky would disagree on this. But that's not the point.

#writing #fanfic #marvel

[liliallowed]

How was Crimsons time in the castle with the other first borns before they escaped

there were no "other's"

only their agents. an original vampire hadn't been born in a long time. the vampires that brought them there raised them as royalty. they all tried to get on crimson's good side.

crimson was spoiled and "grew up" with a diamond spoon... I say grew up in quotations because well... they really didn't mature or grow out of the desire to play games.

the loved playing with dolls, they loved board games. chess. anything that'd distract them from boring ass vampire history.

they had developed great stealth from barely being ten years old, sneaking away mid study to get cookies in the middle of a lecture.

they were EXTREMELY powerful but ended up quickly being humbled when another pureblood came to visit because the stubborn child wouldn't listen or fulfill their duty as a monorch.

they had to learn the hard way that with great power comes great weight and responsibility. as a pureblood there were SO MANY boring ass duties. so much face to uphold.

two-faced snakes. pretentious grinning fools.

they HATED living in that suffocating place. they couldn't breathe. they couldn't FEEL ANYTHING. it was so boring so damned boring. they felt so trapped.

so they ran away!

another pureblood managed to get in contact with them and made a deal with them. as long as they helped out in certain missions, they would convince the others to let their misbehavior slide.

so after they became independent, since their behavior was deemed a "disgrace" to the throne, their existence as a eighth pureblood was kept hidden. (yes there's seven).

I mean... who would expect some random hobo on the street laughing in the mud to be a vampire monorch?

#vampire au #crimson #lv triangle #they're a rich kid that ran away from home basically

[fategoflatass]

So, I've created some OCs for the fic I'm writing right now (I don't think I'll be finishing it anytime soon RIP).

The first one is Hazel Brierley.

Her name would mean something like "thorny hazel woods(?)" (IDK, I'm not very clever when it comes to names).

She's a 16-year-old student who aspires to be an author (she's obsessed with mystery novels).

Only daughter of two real estate agents.

Tall and slender (176cm), she's one of the beauties at her school (although some consider her personality to be pretentious and/or creepy).

She has a rather attractive aura, people often wonder what's going on inside her head (although she gives off "mysterious girl" vibes, Hazel's much of an airhead. This often leads to her being brutally honest since she doesn't give much thought to what she's about to say).

Hazel also gives off nerdy vibes to some, which confuses her and makes the people who know her laugh — she despises everything that has to do with school and, again, she's dumb as hell.

She only talks with people who catch her interest enough to get her out of the clouds (even if they haven't talked much, or at all. She's pretty good at reading people).

But since it's so rare for her to find someone like that, she's pretty quiet. There're some classmates who think she's mute, only for them to get scared shitless once they hear her talk.

She's a part-time model for Sadie, her girlfriend.

Big fan of long skirts, turtleneck sweaters and the autumn-esque color scheme (not like I tried hiding that).

Whenever she finds out someone that caught her interest is younger than her (even if it's for a couple of months), she'll begin acting like a big sister to them (often with no success).

Then we have Adelaine Goldstein.

Her name would mean something like "golden lady".

Mostly known as Addie, she's a 15-year-old student who will become an actress (a widely acclaimed one).

She's the youngest of two sisters. Her parents both work in the show business: her mother is an actress and her dad, her manager.

While she's not as tall as Hazel (163cm), she's considered one of the prettiest girl in the entire area (as she should).

She wakes up every day at 5 am to calmly do her skin care routine and makeup (even if it's the lighest makeup you'll ever see).

Although what takes her more time is deciding her outfit of the day (and ways to steal something from her sister's wardrobe without waking her up. And it's that she always has clothes that match her style. Wonder why...).

Speaking of which: she loves flower patterns and bright colors, especially orange.

You'll never catch her wearing high heels or skinny jeans. If she's not comfortable in it, doesn't matter if it's the best outfit idea ever, she won't wear it.

At first she may seem to be unaproachable and petty, but once you get to know her, you find out she's actually... vain, stubborn and spoiled as hell. She's pretty nice, though.

While people often think Hazel is the brains out of the three, that's actually Adelaine. For some reason, she's not often linked to cleverness.

She stole her favorite pair of hoop earrings from her big sister, althought she will never admit to it.

The last one is Sadie Petty.

Her name literally means "small lady".

And he is, indeed, small (153cm).

Oldest sister out of three siblings (a boy and a baby sister). Her parents are both bakers.

Is she also petty? Yes, she is. She's also a tsundere (main reason why she doesn't have many friends).

She's obsessed with sweets, fashion and eating sweets while thinking about fashion.

Speaking of, she aspires to be a fashion designer.

Her light red hair is dyed. She's actually a brunette.

Not the biggest fan of her short stature. You'll see her wearing platforms and maxi skirts more often than not.

Her love for cheesecake is so intense she often forgets she's lactose intolerant.

It's not like she's a jealous girlfriend, she just wishes Hazel would spend all the free time she has with her.

She's often confused with a little girl and her attitude doesn't help.

Believe it or not, she's quite needy. She loves cuddling (only with her girlfriend, that is) and, if you're close enough, she'll allow you to pat her head.

She loves doing people's hair.

#mai.txt #long post #my ocs #my oc stuff #i kind of want to recreate them in the sims #i'm down to talking about them #the way they might not even be included in the fic #but anyway creating them was so much fun #hope to use them some other time