#it will make you sad as fuck but the beauty of it all TuT

[shibara]

More Malevolent fanfic art! These were very productive vacations~

This one goes to @organchordsandlightning for the fic whimsy and dearth (or, A Lighthouse Refuge), part 1 of 3 in a series.

The whole series was an absolutely fantastic ride in its entirety, but I chose the first one to work on cause Innsmouth holds a special place in my heart (and the jarthur dynamic Is kajshdgdjfdf :chef's kiss:)

Also, have a lil John portrait from when I was trying to figure out what he'd look like

#Malevolent #arthur lester #malevolent podcast #john doe #john malevolent #arthur malevolent #lighthouse series #fic art #myart #otherart #malevolent fanart #guys go read thsi story #it will make you sad as fuck but the beauty of it all TuT #malevart #allmyart

[bi-writes]

the knock at his door is a ferocious one. it rattles the hinges, shakes the doorway. it is not a kind knock. it is the knock of anger, of impending terror, of death at his door, but he knows that if he doesn't answer, he will be even more sorry. (ghoap x curvy!fem!reader, 18+, smidge of dark)

johnny isn't happy. he yanks the door open, glaring, knowing who is on the other side. his superior, his lieutenant, the fucking tart that started this whole thing in the first place, the bastard that stands a few inches too tall, is that what she sees in him, too tall, is that much bigger than me, the fucking--

"dinnae want t'talk to ye, ye fuckin'--"

"'f y'know wot's fuckin' good f'ya, you'll shut y'r fuckin' mouth," ghost snaps. his accent is thick and gravelly. he moves over the threshold, pushing johnny back, his eyes dulling over as he presses an accusing finger against johnny's chest. "y'r gonna pick up the bloody phone, 'n y'r gonna call 'er."

"she's a right--"

ghost hisses, a heady growl coming out roughly as he grips johnny around the throat and slams him against the nearest wall. the entirety of it shakes, and the pictures there nearly fall, and johnny chokes as he tries to scramble, but ghost is too strong, too rough, too overpowering. there is something behind his movements, some purpose, and it makes something acidic bubble in johnny's throat.

"don't you fuckin' dare finish that sentence," ghost snarls. "don't care wot it is y'think y'feel, do y'really wanna have tha' on your conscious, y'fuckin' bastard, yeah? want her t'know tha' is the last thing y'called her?"

johnny sputters. he's gasping for air, but it's hard, and his eyes water. even though johnny hates him, even though he loathes the man he used to admire, he knows ghost is right. his lip trembles. it wouldn't be right to say it, it wouldn't be right to call you anything other than what you are, and that is beautiful, bonnie, the stars in the sky and the water in the soil and the dream he always has but cannot remember but one he knows is all he wants and more.

"ye took 'er from me," johnny gasps. "took her from me, and she's all i've ever wanted..."

"took nothin' from ya. now call 'er," ghost growls. "pick up the phone, and y'call her. she's hysterical. 'n i won't 'av it."

"ye won't 'av it? fuck off with ye!"

ghost tilts his head to the side, using his forearm now and pinning johnny to the wall. they meet eyes, and even though johnny pulls a brave face, he is staring at a man who clawed his way out of his grave. a man that endured days of torture and inexplicable horror, that knew the taste of his own blood from another's. johnny is strong-willed, but this is a battle he will not win.

"won't tell ya again," ghost mutters. "i mean tha'."

johnny's tired. he loathes. he hates. he feels sick. he wants to claw and kill and blow something up, but then ghost is letting him go, he's taking in full breaths, and there's a voice in his ear suddenly, an unfamiliar sound of a beautiful voice that he knows. she's crying.

"johnny? j-johnny, i-is that you?"

"mmmph," he coughs. "mmm..."

even riddled with sadness, you sound as pretty as always.

"johnny, i'm sorry," you whimper. he can picture your face, probably a gorgeous pout, tears gathering along your cheeks that normally are from the brunt of his cock, but now they're the proper response from your panic. "johnny, i'm...i'm so sorry--"

"'s..." he hums. "'s a'right, lovey. shhh. quiet."

"johnny, please--please come home, i-i...i can't stand this, i don't want to...i-i--"

"told ye to quiet," he murmurs. "quiet."

and you do, but he knows there's tears, he knows you're probably still there on the other side, your cries muffled into your hand. you probably still look so beautiful, probably sitting there in one of his jackets and nothing else, perched on the bed he shares with you and looking like an entire meal.

"ye lied to me, bonnie," johnny tuts, and ghost steps closer, into his space. watch it, his eyes say, and johnny glares. "why did ye lie?"

you whine, "i didn't know what to say...i...i just thought--"

"ye thought what?" johnny prods. "ye thought i would nae find out about it all? what did ye think, what the bloody fuckin' hell did ye--"

ghost walks forward, enough that johnny is pressed flat against the wall. ghost leans down, tilting his head, close enough that he feels the warmth of johnny's breath as they stare down each other.

"say y'love 'er, johnny," ghost mumbles in his ear. he comes closer, one thick thigh fitting between johnny's legs. "say it."

johnny swallows. "i love ye, bonnie."

a quiet whine, and then your soft voice, "i-i love you so much, johnny--"

"say y'want her, johnny," ghost encourages him, in that low voice that is starting to make johnny's head a little lighter.

"i miss ye," johnny whispers. "sorry for not having me head on right, love..." he hisses when ghost pinches him. "ahh--i want ye. want yer bonnie face...yer bonnie cunt...got to know it. got to know how much i want ye."

ghost shuts his eyes when he hears your breaths. desperate, a little emotional, that beautiful lilt that drew him in the first time.

"tell 'er ye want to eat 'er, johnny," ghost hums. "tell 'er she tastes like sweets." ghost comes closer, his pelvis against johnny's, and there is no space between them. johnny's blue eyes are bright, pupils dilated, and when ghost opens his eyes, they stare at each other, some kind of understanding that they have never had before.

they've been to the same place. they've seen the same eden. the love of the same woman, the taste of the same forbidden fruit, the kind of thing that men like them dream of having but give up for the sake of their sanity--

"want to eat ye, love..." johnny sighs, and his eyes flutter when ghost reaches up and smooths a gloved hand along his throat. his adam's apple bobs, he is so alive, and ghost tuts lowly as he speaks. "taste so good...think about it all the time...about getting under yer skirt," he sighs deeply when ghost's hand moves lower, against his chest, "cum so nice, bonnie, when ye sit on m'face..."

"j-johnny--" ghost grits his teeth when he hears you. pretty baby girl, probably squeezing your thick thighs together, maybe leaning over to show off your soft hips to no one in particular, tits pressed together because your hand is drifting low and circling against you because he knows you probably aren't wearing any fucking knickers, "anything for you, baby...you know i would, you know i'd do anything..."

"i know, my pretty," johnny coos. "will ye wait for me? will ye wait before ye get ahead of yerself, love? ye will, yer a good girl..."

"y-yes--" you whine. "y-yes, i'll wait for you...please come back...please--"

"should i bring back yer keeper?" johnny asks. blue eyes on dark ones, the look of a thousand words, the look of newness, of acceptance, of the power of two being so much greater than one.

two gloved fingers make their way down his throat. petting johnny's pink tongue, stuffing him full, reminding him of his place, where he truly is, where he belongs and where he is always meant to be. he relaxes his throat, and ghost snarls, satisfied, when johnny takes the girth of it easily. he touches the back of johnny's throat, and ghost's eyes flash when he hears your sweet voice on the other end.

"simon...i know you're there. be nice. or we won't get to play."

#yeah what the fuck is wrong with me #please #im so tortured inside i think #god #please help me #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x you #john soap mactavish #simon thoughts #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #ghoap x reader

[ambling-rambling]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

C/W: honestly not much. Angst. Drunk reader. Softest of fluff

I started out intending to write drunk sex but ya sad bish needed something soft instead so have the first time Bucky Barnes hears I love you and the way it wrecks him.

Don't Leave Me

The two of you didn't actually fight that often, surprising as that was to some people. You supposed you couldn't blame them, what with the ex-Winter Soldier's perpetual frown and surly demeanor.

You knew better, though. He held people at arms length for a million different reasons, each as valid as the next, but the truth was, his core was all marshmallow fluff, soft and squishy.

In the six months that you'd been an official couple, you could count on one hand the number of times you'd so much as bickered. But this? This was different. A genuine fight, where you couldn't agree and neither was willing to compromise.

It was bad enough, his being gone on missions all the time, worrying about whether he'd come home at all, and what state he'd be in when he did. And now he was talking about some sabbatical back to Europe, trying to chase down memories and make some amends clear on the other side of the planet, indefinitely.

And it sure sounded like he didn't want you to come. Sure, his excuse had been that he didn't want to drag you away from your life, make you uproot everything. Part of you knew he didn't feel worthy of that kind of devotion, that he couldn't truly comprehend that he was your everything now.

But if still felt an awful lot like a rejection, and that stung.

Maybe that was why you'd gotten so drunk, just trying to ease the tightness in your chest, drown the ache in your soul with the burn of alcohol. It would have been bad enough on its own, but the fact that it was your first legitimate fight just made it that much worse.

So you'd gotten a little carried away, and Jaeger sure as shit did have a way of creeping up on you. You'd stumbled your way into the ladies' where you now sagged against a sink, though you'd forgotten to turn the water on.

"Honey, are you alright?" a voice startled you, and you spun, or tried to. You barely managed to keep yourself upright by clinging to the edge of the sink.

"Uhhhh..." Were you? Alright? What did that even mean? You weren't dying, but you felt like you were shattering into a million pieces. Surely that was just the alcohol talking, making everything extra dramatic. "No? " It came out a question, and the woman tutted softly. She was probably a little older than you, beautiful, and you found yourself half lost in the liquid brown of her eyes, hooded in deep gold eyeshadow, and the dreadlocks that framed her face.

"Can I call someone for you, honey?" she asked.

Call someone? Shit what a great idea! "Uhhh, my boyfriend," you said with a nod. "Er, well," you hedged, as the memories came flooding back in. "I think. We hadda fight." The words were slurred, and your new friend's eyes were sympathetic.

"Are you safe with him?"

Even drunk, you immediately understood the implications of what she was asking. "YES." Your response was so emphatic that she laughed a little. "We never fight like this," you said, pouting now, staring down at the toe of your tennis shoe. "Ever," you added, uncertain why you felt the need to add so much emphasis.

"Well, honey, why don't I call him for you? If he's got any brains in his head, he's probably missin' you just as much as you're missin' him."

You nodded, because Bucky definitely had brains, he was so smart, and beautiful and you just wanted to be with him always. Why did he have to make everything so fucking difficult?

Without really making a conscious decision, you unlocked your phone, open to your text conversation with Bucky. You hadn't even realized you had a slew of texts from him. It ran a course from appeasing,

I'm sorry, I just don't know what to tell you...

to irritated ,

Really? You're blowing me off?

to worried,

Okay well I deserve it. We don't have to talk but can you just answer so I know you're okay?

Y/n. Please. I'm really getting worried. I just wanna know you're alright.

You felt a little bad. You hadn't been blowing him off intentionally, you just hadn't been paying attention to your phone.

Your friend, god you really needed to ask her name, hit the dial button. Muffled through the speaker, you could nonetheless hear Bucky answer before the second ring, practically shouting your name.

"Sorry, my name's Meredith, but I've got y/n right here. She's fine, just pretty drunk. You should probably come pick her up."

There wasn't any hesitation in his promise to be there in a few minutes.

Meredith handed your phone back to you, and you tucked it away in your pocket, feeling a little guilty. You tried to stand up straight, annoyed with the way the world tilted and swayed under your feet.

"Easy there, honey. Let's go get you some water before your fella gets here."

You nod, because that seemed like a good idea. You clung to Meredith's arm as the two of you wound through the bar and the bartender handed you a glass of water. You sipped it carefully, uncertain if even that would settle. You had definitely never been this drunk before, and now that it was setting in you felt a little childish and stupid.

You heard your name and half turned. The sight of Bucky there, beautiful as ever in that leather jacket and his gloves, made you want to weep, and you sniffled.

"I was worried about you, doll," Bucky said gently, brushing one leather-clad thumb along your cheek bone.

You wanted to be mad at him, but the genuine concern in those blue eyes and the way he was hanging back, not pushing you, just made you want to fall into him.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, not looking at him. "I wasn't tryna make y'worry." The words came out slurred and you felt petulant and nauseous and why was everything such a mess?

"You good now?" Meredith asked, drawing your gaze. You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," you said.

"Thank you," Bucky said softly, extending a hand to Meredith. "Genuinely. I'm glad she found you and not..." he trailed off with a helpless shrug, and it wasn't a leap to know he'd been thinking about all the creeps out there who'd love to take advantage of a drunk and vulnerable woman.

"Nothin' to thank me for. Us girls gotta stick together," Meredith said with a grin. She gave your hand a little squeeze, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Bucky sighed, turning to look at you again, ducking his head to try and catch your eye. "C'mon doll, you still so mad you can't even look at me?" he asked, with a little note of frustration creeping into his tone.

You shook your head. "Not that. I just feel...Dumb." Suddenly you were crying and you couldn't even really articulate why. Bucky looked panicked, jerking the glove off his right hand to cradle your face, applying pressure to encourage you to look up without forcing you.

"What? Why? You're not dumb, y/n..." Bucky looked perplexed, worried still as you sniffled again, scrubbing at your leaking eyes.

"You still w-want me right?" The words came out slurred and choked, and you were suddenly clinging to him, clutching at his biceps. The world was unsteady under you and you just wanted to be in bed, wrapped up with him, safe and wanted.

Bucky looked genuinely shocked. "What...y/n, of course I do. You're all I want. Why would you think otherwise?"

He was so confused you almost laughed. It was so obvious to you.

"But you d-don't want me to come to Europe with you," you pointed out, your voice a drunken whine.

"I don't...y/n, I don't want to go without you," you could see he was struggling to articulate himself, the way words so often came as a fight, caught up in his head. "I just don't feel like I can ask you to walk away from your life..."

"You're not asking! I'm offering!" you interrupted, your voice a little too high, a little too loud, even to your own ears.

Bucky looked... Inexplicably sad. He stepped a little closer, so his body was pressed to yours, bare hand cradling your cheek. "I ain't worth it, doll. And I don't want you to be an ocean away from home and not another friend in sight when you figure that out." .

You felt like you were choking. Oh, or maybe that was just the alcohol in your stomach revolting. Bucky must have read the expression on your face, because he wrapped an arm around your waist, mostly carrying you toward the door. "C'mon, let's get outside," he said.

The cold air hit you like an Arctic front, had goosebumps prickling all over your skin and a shiver running up your spine. But it served to still the boiling mess in your stomach. You knew you were drunk, that he'd probably convince himself it was just the alcohol, but you had to try.

"Please baby," you whined, clutching at him. "I don't wanna be here without you. I just wanna be with you , always. You are worth it to me." Your voice cracked when you begged "don't leave me here."

"I'm not leaving you anywhere, doll. Let's go home," he murmured. You nodded, slumping into Bucky's arms, content to let him carry you to the car.

You didn't even remember getting home, just waking up in bed, a little panicked, launching yourself toward the bathroom, your stomach revolting against the ill treatment of the night before. Bucky was there within moments, sweeping your hair back out of your face, palm smoothing down your back.

You slumped to the floor when your stomach finally settled, cool tile heavenly against your heated skin. "I'm sorry," you mumbled.

"For what?" Bucky asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Getting so trashed that you had to come get me. Being so extra and now...this," your lip curled in distaste as you waved a hand at the porcelain throne.

Bucky 's lips quirked in that ghost of a smile that was his most common expression of pleasure or amusement. "That's nothin' to apologize for, doll," he said dismissively.

"Shower with me?" you asked, and Bucky nodded, starting the water before helping you to your feet. You shucked out of your clothes and ducked into the shower with a low groan of relief, only too eager to wash the night off your skin. Bucky followed you in, and his hands skimmed tenderly across your body, helping you rinse off, his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You lingered like that, for too long, really. It would have been easy, so easy, to just stay like that, pretend nothing had happened, but you couldn't.

"Bucky?" you whispered, voice rough and more than a little hesitant.

"Yeah, doll?" he asked, without lifting his head, voice muffled against your skin.

"I...I meant what I said last night. I know I was drunk, but it was still the truth. I don't... I don't wanna be here without you. I don't care where you're going, if it's anywhere even sort of long term, I wanna go. I'll go anywhere Buck, just .. please don't leave me here. Don't go without me."

He drew back, cradling your face, his expression a study in internal wars, looking both miserable and infatuated. "I just don't want you bored over there, by yourself..."

"I wouldn't be by myself," you interrupted. "I'd be with you and that's all I want."

You could practically see that self deprecating smile even before it painted his lips. "That's not all you want, doll," Bucky argued, and you felt yourself huff out an irritated breath. "You have a job that you really love and friends you love going out with, not to mention the cat..."

You sighed. "All those things will be here whenever you've done what you need to. Or I'll meet new people and make new friends. People do it all the time, Buck. Mallory would take Alpine for a while if I asked her."

Whatever argument he was about to pop off with now, you silenced it, pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop telling me what I want or don't want, Buck. I just want you. I love you."

You watched the emotions play across his face like he was a projection onto a movie screen. Incomprehension, and then disbelief, giving way to awe, and then something so, so soft it had his eyes welling up with tears.

He was searching your face, as if trying to sniff out a lie, and then abruptly, his gaze jerked down, swallowing hard. You'd been together a while, slept together, built routines that were comfortable, that he adored, but neither of you had ever broached the "l" word and he hadn't let himself believe you were building something like a life together, something lasting and permanent.

"Really?" he asked weakly.

His surprise broke you. All this time, it had been clear to you, that this was something permanent, that you were building patterns you wanted to live the rest of your life in, a comfortable place to rest and be at home. Meanwhile, he'd been holding himself apart, waiting for his fantasy to end.

"Oh, Bucky," you whispered, felt yourself choking up against your will. "Yeah, I love you , so much, baby. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner, that I ever made you wonder. I love you, Bucky Barnes, completely and irrevocably."

The arms he wrapped around you were all encompassing, squeezing you tight, with a hint of trembling. "I love you too, doll. So much." His voice was rough with emotion as he clung to you, and you clung right back, arms wrapped tight around his waist, lost in the touch so long that the water started to run cold. You whined as you hurried to wash your hair before it turned to ice and then crawled out.

Wrapped in a towel, you pressed yourself in against Bucky's side. "Does this mean you'll take me to Europe?"

Bucky almost snorted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Let's be real, I wouldn't have lasted a week without you anyways."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

[sebsbarnes]

happy new years dear!!! i hope i’m not too late to ask for new year’s eve party with tangerine

maybe they never expressed their feelings for each other other but there has always been a lot of tension and at the new year’s party they finally make a move 🫢

happy new years, i hope your day was well! of course it's not too late! i'm going to do this request first though to keep it closer to the new year :) thank you so much i enjoyed writing this prompt! the ending is grossly mushy. i'm still working on the other requests so don't worry if i haven't written it i plan on writing all the ones sent :)

a new year || tangerine

tangerine x f! reader

warnings: smoking

word count: 800+

masterlist

you groaned loudly in frustration throwing your head back. the metal back of the chair digging into your shoulder blades but you couldn't care less. the pain brought some relief to the mental agony you were battling.

"the fuck is your problem princess?" you opened an eye to see tangerine standing above you. his features looking funny from being upside down.

"well if you really care to know," you started maneuvering in your seat to face the man who had now sat next to you, "i'm tired of these cutesy little couples."

tangerine raised an eyebrow in disbelief, "you're mad 'cause some random people are dating each other."

you rolled your eyes at him. of course he doesn't get it. you reached your hand into his breast pocket fishing out the pack of cigarettes. you pulled the long white stick out of the package and tucked it back into tangerine's black-button down shirt. desperately ignoring the feeling of his muscles underneath the shirt. you placed it between your lips waiting for tangerine to light it.

"i'm mad 'cause i'm not with anyone. how the hell am i supposed to start the new year like this," you said absently gesturing to the lack of a partner wrapped around your arm.

"you're unbelievable," tangerine stated though he was desperately trying to suppress a laugh from bubbling up.

you blew smoke in his face which he swatted away, "shut up. let me sulk about another year with no one to love. don't midnight kisses bring good luck? maybe that's why i haven't found someone," you tutted.

tangerine pulled the cigarette from your hand and you watched as his lips softly wrapped around the paper, "well darlin' you got about ten minutes to find prince charming."

"fuck off," you spit pulling the cigarette from his lips.

you were here at a party thrown by one of your frequent bosses with tangerine and lemon. it was some extravagant new years eve party at a multilevel home with a beautiful backyard bar area that you were now sulking in. though it was true you were sad about not going into the new year with someone, you wanted a little bit of dramatics before the clock hit midnight.

"feisty, eh?" tangerine smirked. now it was him observing the way your lips closed around the cigarette. the way your lips turned into a slight pout when you blew out a cloud caused him to flex his thigh, the sight made him envision sinful things. like the way he could picture you sinking to your knees and he'd peer down his nose at you while you innocently look up at him before you would wr-

"tan!" tangerine jolted awake from his daydream.

"what?" he blubbered.

you chuckled at him, "i said do you want to stay out here or go inside for the ball drop."

tangerine looked around to see some of the people from outside wander inside to witness the start of the new year under the light of the tvs plastered to the wall. and though he would love to experience the slight exhilaration the chanting to 'one' in a large crowd gave him, he much preferred the quieter atmosphere the backyard was providing.

"oh no, no it's alright. i think i'll stay out here," he smiled at you, "you can head in, i'll find you after."

you flicked the cigarette into the tray, "i asked so i'd know where to stay, silly."

"how are you going to find your prince charming out here?" tangerine joked observing the lack of people outside.

you smirked at him, "there's always next year."

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes sauntered to the table you both occupied and offered you the midnight drink. you grabbed two flutes, offering tangerine one and holding onto the other. you could hear the commotion of the inside and you could see the room swelling with people through the sliding glass doors. everyone started to cheer down to one loudly and you and tangerine stood observing the small tv facing the yard.

the silver ball made its yearly descent to mark a new beginning. a new year filled with new goals, new aspirations, and new opportunities. a fresh beginning that could bring new fortunes and new love or solidify old plans and love. you weren't one for cliches but you couldn't lie and say the mark of a new year didn't ignite some sort of fire under you to make new and daring decisions and choices. which is why when the clock struck midnight and you and tangerine clinked glasses with a small 'cheers' you refused to break eye contact with the man who stood before you. he sipped at the bubbly drink, his blue eyes unwavering from yours.

though no words were spoken, you could read each other's eyes and it felt like you were both reading each others iris's the same for the first time in years. you dropped the glass to the table and reached forward grabbing tangerine's face. you pressed your lips to his and you could taste the champagne and cigarette in his mouth. tangerine briefly pulled away from the kiss giving you a smile and muttering 'finally' under his breath before eagerly reconnecting your lips.

you were right, in the new year you'd find your prince charming.

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x oc #tangerine x you #tangerine imagine #tangerine imagines #tangerine bullet train imagine #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine bullet train fanfic #tangerine fluff #tangerine angst #tangerine blurb #tangerine headcannon #tangerine oneshot #bullet train imagine #bullet train fanfic #bullet train oneshot #bullet train x reader #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson imagine #aaron taylor johnson x reader #sebsbarnes

[undercoverpena]

More Helen x Ghost pleaseeeeee

sometimes, I am merciful

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Word count: 1k

AN: mentions of a wound and dressing it. fluff-ish (probably more than I’d like but it’s been a day and a half and I needed this too). Helen isn’t readers name, read Helen.Simon for more context. take pity on me, I wrote this on my phone (: but hope it’s okay, anon.

+++++++++++

“Helen,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

He clenched his other fist, the bones on the glove cracking under pressure. He’s trying not to stare at you—fearful you’d turn him into fucking stone.

The look on your face is still etched into his eyelids. Eyes flicking from him to his clearly bleeding hand, a mixture of relief and disappointment he’s come back with another scar you’ll obsessively try and heal.

Your grip on his hand tightens, wrenching it closer. “Keep still, Casper.”

He doesn’t hate it. The grip you have on him. Both literally and figuratively. Even if he doesn’t fully understand the ifs, buts and how’s of it all.

But he doesn’t fucking hate your new pet name. The one you’ve clearly thought about over the thirty-six hours he’s been gone.

He’s had it for all of fifteen minutes and already cannot stand it. But he refuses to ask for Boo.

Instead, he puts up with it. Letting you relish in inflicting your own choice of torture.

Because if you’re calling him a friendly ghost, it means you’re still calling him. Still talking.

He’s learnt how painful and torturous your silence is. A punishment he’s not sure he could handle on such limited sleep.

Sighing, he blinks. Purposefully blanking his face, letting his eyes soften and settle.

Then he wills your eyes to meet his.

If you were anyone else, he’d command it. But that doesn’t work on you. Not unless he says it softly, not unless shards of him are breaking off and you take pity on him.

Look at me. Please look at me.

You don’t.

The scent of antiseptic, vanilla and blackberries meets his nose, mixing with the smell of blood, dust and death he’s brought with him.

He prefers your scent. A perfume he struggles to remove from his casual clothing and his bed sheets. Not that he complains. He’d never complain.

If he had his way, the scent would be burned into his skin. It keeps him rooted and reminds him of the truth in all the lies that his brain conjures when insomnia strikes.

Helen. Look at me.

You don’t. You’re too busy using all of your focus as you dress his wound. Your delicate fingers slide the bandage around his palm, silently judging, silently tutting as you work your magic.

He knows you’re pissed—before you start muttering and tutting. You weren’t half as gentle with the needle as usual. Not even muttering an apology when you’d stabbed it a little too hard.

If it weren’t inflicted on him, he’d have egged you on. Rather liking your conniving ways. On him, not so much. Even if he can tell, you’re getting some sick satisfaction from making him wince.

But he needs your eyes.

He’s missed them.

“Sweetheart…”

It comes out stern and quiet, but it forces your chin up. Those big beautiful eyes land on him, and they feel like the sun.

At first, they’re soft, all kindness and love. In one blink, they’ve shifted. Scolding him, attempting to peel back his mask and scorch his face.

Fuck, you’re beautiful.

“A rusty knife? Really, Simon?”

“Better my hand than my neck.”

You clamp your mouth shut, hiding insults and your wicked way with words from him. The fact you do annoys him more than the coward who tried to stab him.

“There’s a choice to choose neither, you know,” you whisper, continuing to bandage his hand, focusing on the bow. “Could come back to me with just bruising and cuts. That’s a choice too.”

You tighten the final part of the bandage more purposefully, him biting back a wince as you look up at him again. The anger softens, sadness replacing it. A look he instead fucking hates, even if he’s the one who put it there.

“I’m never leavin’ you.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” you say, pushing back on the wheels of your chair for more distance, “Because if you considered it, I’d hunt you down. Hell or high water, I’d find you. And, let me make this crystal fucking clear, Simon Riley. I am both.”

He wants to lift his mask.

Show you the prize of his smile.

But he can’t risk it. Not here, not in the middle of your medical room that people barge in and out of.

It doesn’t matter how often the two of you try to steal moments; life has a way of ripping them from your grasp. But it doesn’t stop him from trying.

Instead, he grabs your leg, pulling you, pleasantly surprised you don’t fight him as you wheel between his legs. Your annoyance is painted as clear as day, his fingers releasing your leg before resting on your knee.

“Understood,” he says, drawing a soft circle against your knee. Watching you, watching him. A moment, between all the others, where it’s just the two of you. “Go eat, Helen.”

“I’m fi—“

He squeezes your knee, silencing you. Staring at you to remind you he knows you. Knows that you haven’t eaten two meals a day, never mind three. That he’s had people check on you, ask about you.

That in his own fucking way, he cares, so let him care. Let him take care of you.

You swallow as if realising this. As if the two of you are in the middle of a conversation, you’re both having with your eyes.

He wins.

The only way he knows that is from the sweet little groan you give him as he returns to drawing a circle on your knee.

“Sometimes, Simon. I really can’t stand you.”

“Feelings mutual, Helen.”

You remove your glove, placing your hand gently over his. It’s warm, gentle and yet calloused in its own way.

And he should tell you to leave.

Tell you to get food before you’re left with scraps you’ll complain to him about later. But this is nice. It’s comforting. It’s something he can’t genuinely articulate and is glad you don’t ask him to try.

And then, you hand him his glove. The one stained scarlet and still damp with his blood.

He nods.

You nod.

The two of you send the other a look which has become close to a parting kiss, without you both touching. One that will have to do until he can really kiss you later. Until he can remind every inch of your skin that he came back, that he’s alive. He’ll do so, silently promising too, until you’re chanting his name to the point he realises this isn’t a dream, but reality.

A beautiful, unexplainable reality.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost Riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost riley #Helen x Simon #ghost cod mw2 #cod ghost #ghost x helen #simon x helen

[sp00kymulderr]

prism

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn reader

Warnings: 18+, pwp, kinda subby Dieter, kinda gentle dom reader. dirty facetime call, m masturbation, allusions to m receiving anal, lots of pet names for Dieter (nothing for reader)

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Dieter always gets desperate when he's away from you for too long.

A/N: comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to gif maker.

Dating Dieter Bravo is not easy. That’s the truth.

It’s difficult. He’s difficult. An international movie star with an Oscar win under his belt? Yeah, he requires a certain kind of partner and a certain amount of patience. It’s not on purpose of course, you know that, but he is so used to a particular level of attention and he’s not exactly not a diva.

The worst thing about dating Dieter though is that he so often is just not around. Those long, long periods when he’s off in some beautiful but entirely too lonely location filming something ludicrous for equally ludicrous money.

Dieter requires attention and it’s kind of like torture for you both when you can’t touch him and give him all that he so desperately wants from you.

So you have to make do with what you can give him.

“That’s right baby” You say softly, watching him on the screen of your phone.

You’d taken his video call 30 minutes ago and he’d already been needy for you; plush robe hanging open as he sat in his luxury hotel bed and gave you those ridiculous big brown eyes, moaning your name and telling you just how he couldn’t live another second without you. Dramatic to the end, that was your dear sweet Dieter.

Your love adores an audience, never used to doing anything all alone. It’s to be expected after a few days of filming that he’ll call you with needy rasps and grunts down the phone line either talking you through your pleasure or begging for something from you. Today it is begging. Today he is all yours in exactly the way you like.

Now he’s showing you just what he needs with his hand fisted around his aching cock and his face flushed pink with a sheen of sweat making him glistening so deliciously. He’s angled the phone on his night-stand to give you the best view he can as he thrust his hips up to fuck in to his fist. He looks so lovely and you silently thank whoever invented video calling as you talk him through his obedient desperation.

“That’s good pretty boy. Imagine it’s me, yeah?” You coo, giving him what you can to help him along.

Dieter whimpers with movements stuttering a little. He’s been holding off for a while. Trying really hard for you.

“Just think...sweet thing...think about my mouth around you, taking all of you in. Can you do that baby?” You guide him your voice a little breathy as you work on your own need. You can’t possibly not get off to him being like this. “Jesus fucking christ” He groans “I’m gonna…”

You can tell. From the way he pants out his words in grunted syllables and from the clearly achy, leaky tip of his cock thrusting up through his fisted hand. “Oh no, be good. Give me another minute” You direct with a voice all sticky sweet with love and deep enjoyment the view. Only a little annoyance that you’re seeing it on a small screen rather than from in between his legs

Dieter whines and you tut. This is exactly how you like him, when he's tamed and desperate for you. A shame it only seems to happen when he's on the other side of the world. You love that you get to see him like this but you hate that there’s this goddamn screen separating you and all those miles of ocean. You want to make him cry. Hold him off for hours and then put your mouth on that gorgeous cock til he’s a mess.

"Oh sweetie, the things I'd do to you if I was there" you moan

"I'll get you on a...on a plane right now" He whimpers, and gives a look to the screen that makes you think of a sad little puppy not getting what it wants. You laugh a little.

"Hm, I bet you would. But I don’t think so. Besides I like you better when you can't disappoint me"

It's cruel but he moans, fucking his fist a little faster,

"Hold on for me"

"Can't-" Dieter sighed

“You better or I'm ending the call right now. You don't wanna come without an audience. I know you baby" Your tone gets harder, more commanding and he lets out a strangled groan. He whines your name all pathetic. He's a mess, fucked out and sweaty, cock already leaking over his hand right on the precipice of release.

"Let me come...I’ll...I'll buy you that ticket straight away and give you something better" He says quietly, distracting both of you and stilling the movement of his hips as he tries to bargain with you.

"Oh?"

"Let you fuck me properly I want you to...to...take me" Dieters words are so urgent, his breath coming out short.

You raise an eyebrow to the camera. That piques your interest. He's not given you that opportunity yet. For a couple seconds your silent, trying to control your own pleasure enough not to slip out of your current persona.

"Keep moving baby, don't remember telling you to stop" you finally say

"I'll let you. I want you to. Just let me buy you a ticket and get on the damn plane". He starts again, slowly so he doesn't explode within a millisecond.

"I'll think about it. It's a good offer, I'd love to fuck you. You know I would. Make you beg for it"

"Jesus...." He pants, too close to do anything else but beg "Please..."

"Go on, honey. Better be a lot" you finally allow it, and Dieter sighs in relief.

You watch the screen intently as he succumbs; his hips faltering as he spills hard all over his hand. It is a lot, it always is when he knows you're watching. He looks so good all messy and undone. It might be your favourite sight in the world. His hair sticks to his head a little. You want to run your fingers through it and see if he'll give you more of himself.

"Get over here on the next flight, I swear to god" He mumbles, breathy, before continuing "Can't give me up, I know you can't"

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and take your hand away from yourself. If he’s lucky you'll call him again later to finish this. He’s always lucky with you.

"You're gonna have to beg me, you’ll have to show me show bad you want it” You tell him, voice all cool confidence because you know he can’t say no and you don’t want him to. “I’ll call you again in an hour and you better be ready to show me"

You both know you’re going to give in but it’s not about that, it’s about his supplication right now.

He sobs all sweat and breathlessness and sticky mess when you stop touching yourself and he hears the zip of your pants going back up. You give him a sweet smile but oh you’re going wild on the inside at every detail you can see on that bright little phone screen. You’d lick his release right off his hand if you could.

“Get cleaned up, messy boy. If you’re good you’ll get to see me come next time too”

He’s about to say something more but you won’t let him have the last word.

“And then we’ll talk about that flight”

You hang up.

He’ll give you exactly what you want and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, there’s no question. But the waiting only makes it more worthwhile for both of you.

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedrostories #gideon writes again maybe #this kinda sucks but I actually wrote smth so

[diagonal-queen]

nikolai x reader in the winter

okay so uh SUPER self indulgent post incoming

cw: nikolai is a bit of a bastard and he gets himself sick like the skrunkly little moron he is. food mentions. 

imagine its winter. obviously it’s cold outside and snowing and stuff, so you’re wanting to spend the day inside. if you’re anything like me you wrap yourself in blankets and wear fluffy pyjamas in winter. but that dick nikolai is silly n goofy. he would blast the aircon just to fuck with you and make you super cold (secretly, he thinks it’s cute that you’re annoyed with him and burrito-ing yourself in all the blankets and feels accomplished whenever he gets a cranky face from you). 

eventually once he’s done tormenting you he’ll sit down on the ground in between your legs and let you mess with his hair while you guys are watching TV. give him a couple tugs and massage his head a little bit. he may be a menace but that relaxes him a lot. 

if nikolai makes you hot chocolate it would be very tasty but he would certainly overdo it with the marshmallows. he dumps piles of them into both mugs and they get everywhere (if you nag him enough he will help you clean the marshmallow powder later). ‘this is nice, Kolya, but marshmallows are tumbling out of my mug. i cant drink it like this.’ - you, probably. he gives you a face and tuts to himself because you’re just so cute when you’re concerned about his little shenanigans. in many ways he is a little bit of a sadist. 

once you get through the hot chocolate and you’re all warm and toasty, nikolai may take a seat in the armchair beside a crackling fireplace and treat you to sitting on his lap, where you both stay unusually quiet in your state of tranquility. maybe you occasionally mutter silly things to each other to get a soft chuckle out of the other person. nikolai pats your thigh with one large hand, and slowly cards the other one through your hair. this happens until, eventually, you fall asleep in his arms. 

the next day nikolai wants to play in the snow, because who the fuck doesn’t?? (i do. i live in a place without snow). it might take a little bit of convincing for you though, because the idea of nikolai in a snowball fight is simply envisioning a war you absolutely can’t win. nonetheless, his pleas and his wrapping his arms around you from behind and whining ‘c’mon, dove. please? can we?’ eventually wear you down, and so you bundle yourselves in warm winter gear before heading out. nikolai has seen plenty of snow in his life but he always seems so captivated by it. it is very beautiful! 

there are two ways to snap him from this trance! the safe option is to pounce on him, knocking you both into the snow. yes, it might be cold, but you won’t be noticing that while you’re in nikolai’s arms and you and him laugh in unison. the deadly option is to throw a snowball at him. that’s a declaration of battle. you will not be spared, even if you are his s/o. 

he will tear your ass to shreds in a snowball fight. though, if you were to get a bit of ice in your eye, he would stop and check to see if your eye’s broken. if not, he doesn’t give you a second to recuperate. he’s right back at it. and of course, once you are on your knees (literally or metaphorically, either is fine for him) begging for his mercy, he may give it to you. 

nikolai would definitely be the one out of the both of you to catch a cold from the snow, because he does not know when to quit. you could tell him to come inside for hours, but he won’t reappear until he’s pale and very obviously got a cold. nikolai is fatigued and lethargic when he’s sick, and him being low-energy is a very sad sight. 

get this man some borscht soup and medicine. he will probably ask you to spoon feed him because he’s just soooo weak and achy and can’t do it himself! he’s a man child and i love him for it. that being said, he is extremely appreciative when you help take care of him. he does give you soft words of gratitude with rosy cheeks and maybe a little peck to your hand (can’t be kissing your lips cus you might get sick and he’d NEVER do that to you!) (he does it a few hours later having completely forgotten he’s sick in the first place)

i love winter already but i think i’d especially love to share it with nikolai

#this is so bad #nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #headcanons n shi #bsd imagines #bsd #bungo stray dogs #2am thoughts #sleepy time for me #the skrunkly #i love this feral wet cat of a man

[prettyboyfinley]

Story time:

After getting a drink I make my way to a larger booth and sit while taking in the club. I notice a woman sitting at a small booth. I quickly get lost in the image of sitting at her feet, thinking about what it would feel like to have her hand tangled in my hair while I worship between her beautiful thighs. I get jostled out of my thoughts by a server setting what looks to be another glass in front of me. I look confused at the now retreating server before turning and making eye contact with the woman in the booth. My face instantly gets warm. She just smirks and nods before her smirk turns from lustful to soft and caring. My thighs clench together and my head starts to feel fuzzy before my whole body shivers at the sight of a man walking over to the beautiful woman and sitting down beside her. I look away, sad at the idea that the woman who was making my brain foggy is here with someone else. I try and look away and not look at them but my focus inevitably is drawn back. When I look over I’m shocked to see that they are both sipping on a drink and staring at me. My brain instantly gets fuzzy again and I find myself lost in fantasies of being between the two of them. I can feel my cunt getting wet at the thought of feeling their touch. I get so distracted that I don’t even realize that they are approaching me until they are standing by my booth. They have kind smiles on their faces.

“Would it be alright if we joined you dear? If so what are your pronouns?”

I stumble with my words before looking between the two of them.

“He/him, yes. Yes of course you can sit here”

my face gets so red and I look down at the table in embarrassment. Suddenly I hear a raspy deep voice by my ear.

“Do I have permission to touch your face?”

I choke back a whimper but nod my head yes.

“No dear, we need verbal consent.”

“Yes, yes you can. You can touch me.”

I suddenly feel a soft but large hand cup my chin and tilt my face to look up at them. The view of them standing slightly over me has me melting in my seat.

“There we go, there are those handsome eyes. Thank you for letting us join you.”

My face gets bright red and all I can think about is being on my knees for them and having his hand around my neck. They sit down and we talk for at least half an hour, the whole time I can’t keep my eyes off of them. Her lips look so soft and her hands are so slender but strong His eyes are so dark and intense and his arms are defined by his shirt, all I want is to be sitting in his lap with his arms wrapped around me.

As time goes on I fall deeper and deeper into a more submissive headspace, it doesn’t help that we discussed limits and things that we are all interested in.

Hearing her talk about how she loves to have a submissive between her thighs while her husband fucks them made my brain shut down temporarily. They must notice my spaced out look because they start touching me more and more.

It starts with her pushing my hair out of my face and her fingers lingering. She caresses my cheek before looking into my eyes and tracing my lips with her fingertips before pulling away. She watches as my lips part and attempt to take her fingertips between my lips before my eyes widen in shock and embarrassment at being caught.

Her husband chuckles next to me while he puts his hand on my thigh. She tuts when I try and look away from her and grips my jaw tightly. Looking into her eyes and seeing the look of pure hunger makes my thighs soaked.

“Oh poor baby, I bet you weren’t planning on telling us you have an oral fixation. It’s alright baby, we will take care of all of your needs.”

As she says this her husband’s hand slides between my thighs and I can hear his gasp over my own.

“Fuck honey, he soaked through his boxers and pants. God damnit, if you are this warm and wet while in clothes I can only imagine what it will feel like when my cock is buried inside of you.”

His voice is so raspy in my ear. The feeling of his hand between my thighs and her griping my chin makes my brain completely shut off.

“That’s it baby, let go of those pesky thoughts and just let us guide you. Let us use you.”

#ftm sub #ftm nsft #ftm puppy #dom/sub #transmasc nsft #bottomposting #transgender #prettyboyconfessions #storytimewithprettyboy #this is just foreplay #god I’m rusty at writing

[harryleatherfit]

Upper East Side || A.U || Frankie Morales

Chapter 13: After Party

F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: abusive parents, childhood memory flashback, ptsd, abuse (summary at the end if you’d like to skip) drink roofi,

Authors Note: been so long since i’ve updated UES, but one shot life has taken me away. planning the rest of the fic is making me so sad and writing this chapter was really hard, i fucking HATE NINA. there’s not too much of frankie in this one, but i promise he’s very much in the next. just you wait .

i love you all. anyone who reads my stuff, who has supported me through this process. you mean the absolute world to me💝

Chapter Playlist

Euphor- Lowswimmer & Novo Amor

A House in Nebraska- Ethel Cain

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

Sundays with your family was never something you vouched for as a kid. You woke up, you did what you were told, you obeyed, you surveyed your parents emotions. Hyper aware of your actions. You cleaned, you cooked, you were a caretaker to yourself.

After so many years with the relationship of your parents berating itself, your relationship with your mom, everything falling apart. You never really knew what set her off, hell you never knew what would set your dads anger off, but there was something with your mom that would make her see red and you would never understand.

A distinct Sunday, you walked downstairs to greet your parents, and she was staring out the window, blank faced. You sat next to her, no words said, just hoping for her peace today.

“Pretty morning, mama.”

She nodded her head, “Yeah I already went for my run, the weather is perfect. You should go on yours now.”

She always did this, she always made you go on fucking runs, to appease that ‘her child isn’t gaining weight’.

This morning, you were tired, you just started your period and you were bleeding heavily. The last thing you wanted to do was go on a run, you didn’t want to have to say hi to people every time you passed them. You didn’t want to fidget with your headphones not falling out. You hated running, she always forced you to work out on your own terms.

“Mama? I’m on my period and I feel nauseous…”

“You know that’s not an excuse, you know the rules.”

“I know you’ve said that but please today I’m in so much pain, I’ll take on extra chores for today, I’ll dust all the rooms-”

“No, and because of that you’ve yourself another hour of running… do you want to defy my rules? Fucking try me you fucking little shit.” She seethes, she urns back looking out the window, simmering down.

You look away from her, shoving your head down into your arms, you didn’t like crying infront of her.

“And try running to your father, he only agrees with me. Look, we love you honey, we want the best for you, but we need you to be healthy and thin, like the good girl you were raised to be.” She gets up, “Speaking of which, let's get on the scale before you leave.”

“What?”

She grabs your hand, pulling you to her bathroom.

“Mama no… mama please no…” You cry, “You know that I don’t like this… please mama don’t make me..”

“It’s the rule to stay under 150 Lbs! You know that! Fuck..” She huffs, “We’ve been so relaxed with you lately, you need to have healthier habits. You can’t keep eating the way you are.”

She punts the door open, you're sobbing at this point, begging your mom to not make you on the scale.

“No! Fucking get on!”

“Please mama, please I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you, I promise, for you and dad. I won’t be bad anymore..” You plead, slobber slipping all over your face.

She plants your feet on the scale and you immediately shut your eyes, never wanting to see the number below you. Seconds pass.

“Well you got a fucking one way ticket to missing homecoming next weekend.” She tuts.

“What, no please mom!” You look at her.

“NO ARGUING! You wont fit in your dress anyways and it’s your fucking fault. We paid all this money for this beautiful gown and now YOU HAVE GAINED WEIGHT! So during your night, you’ll be coming with me to the gym and no fucking complaining… I hear a sound, your phone is mine for a week.” That shuts you up.

All you can do is stare at her, the pain leaking from your mouth. You’re frozen in time, and you can only focus on the tears not slipping from your eyes. All the pain and hatred boiling in your heart, the monster of fear is right in front of you and you can’t move. You heave, gasping for air. All you want is to hold your mom, you want someone to fucking hold you, but there is no one.

“Fucking get a move on, or I’ll give you something real to cry about.” She spits. And you do.

—-

Your scream, your blood, your body shaking out on stage. You prepared for your last performance with Frankie, you were ready to give the performance everything you had in your body. And everything went as fast as you expected, but as you were walking off stage you could’ve sworn you saw your mom in the audience, so many faces to look at, but you could see yourself in the crowd.

You stayed stagnant in the wings of the stage, your body following into full blown shock. You couldn’t get a full view of the person you saw but somehow you knew she was in the same room as you. That pit feeling you got as a kid about you mom, her moods. You knew she was there.

People were talking to you, tech crew telling you what to do and where to go, but you couldn’t think. Everything was muffled, nothing made sense. You couldn’t scratch out of your skin faster, you couldn’t run away, you couldn't go home. You couldn’t leave, you just had to stay.

Immediately you snap out of it and rub your hand over your heart to calm yourself down, you have to finish the night out.

“Are you okay?” A stage manager comes up to you, “Do you want me to get a director?”

Fuck the last thing you want is for Frankie to see you like this, or any of your teachers. Nothing could help you get out of this.

“No,” You choke, “I’m fine.”

Your reassurances, sets the stage manager back in place, calling the shows last cue, and bows are finally in check.

Mattias runs off stage, and he finds your hand, bracing yourself to see the audience again. You hear the room erupt into cheers and the standing ovation begins. He pulls you onto the stage, your eyes fade, the fuzziness creeping over your body. It’s your turn to walk up to the apron and bow, feet following another no daring to look anywhere but your feet. You were happy how loud the audience was, but you needed to leave, you needed air. Applauding the tech crew and the audience you run off stage quickly. You needed time to collect yourself before you ever thought about going outside to greet anyone.

You smeared the blood off of you, you slipped out of your costume, put everything back to where it was, shaking as you moved. You couldn’t rid this fumble in your body. You prayed Frankie wouldn’t walk in, you didn’t know how he would react to your unresponsiveness.

“Bitch! Get out here! We gotta go sign some playbills and then we're off to the club!” Mattias shouts into your room.

The tears come to a halt and you wipe away your face before he has you in view. You can do this.

“I just finished cleaning and hanging my shit, come with me and we can find Laylah… go to the club!” He holds your hands, wriggling his body.

Honestly all you want is to hurl into a bag, but that would do too.

“Ok let me grab my bag, I’m right behind you!” You cave. All you had to do was forget about your mom.

You clear your nose, and shut off the lights to your area. You’ll always remember this oasis you had, the memories with Laylah, Frankie, your first show here dear to your heart.

Mattias opens the door to the outside, and not just from last night… there are more people. Cameras flashing, screaming from all sides of the street. There are paparazzi, cars scrolling by screaming you and Mattias’s name. As you walk by with him, singing playbills and posing for cameras, seeing all these beautiful faces, you think about Frankie. You’re one step closer to being with him after the party.

Moving down the line, the men with the camera’s move with you. It felt good, you felt excited and the dip in your heart is gone.

“Excuse me ma’am, ma’am! You can’t be here!”

Before you turn, you hear a backstage official yell to somebody, the conversation going on behind you.

“Who do you think you are, screaming up on that stage?”

And there you are, in front of what could’ve been hundreds of people, seeing you go eye to eye with your mom. Mattias pauses behind you. You knew it was her, that exact hair color.

“You call that a performance?” She screams at the crowd, pointing at you, pulling you apart, “Here’s my fucking daughter all the way in New York City.” She screams.

You hadn’t seen her in years, by choice, but she was here? What on god's earth would persuade her to see your performance. She looked much older, being alone hasn’t taught her anything. Her hair looked dirty, she looked disheveled, and she looked lifeless.

“Ma’am I need you to please step aside..”

“Look at you baby, look at you whoring yourself out for all these broadway roles.” She laughs, “Didn’t think the person I raised would go this far into Hollyweird, you’re sellin yourself to the devil you hear me? Skanking yourself out just to make some money? I mean fuck..”

Some Broadway official grabs one of your moms arms, yanking it back, she has this beady look in her eye, you know she hasn’t had her fill with you yet. She wanted this to be public so she can let the public see the real you.

“Mom please don’t do this here, please I’ve worked so hard for this.” You plead, you can’t freeze, you can’t shake, you just deal. You go back to your roots. “Mom, why are you here?”

“Want the world to know how fucking selfish and useless you are? Wanted to see how ‘good’ of a life you think you got up here. Well here’s a fucking wake up call sweet cheeks,” She steps up closer to you, “ You ain’t able to make it in the world without me, I came here today to take you back home. Where you were raised right, where you belong.” She grabs you, and Mattias holds you back, his hold on you stronger than anything on the stage.

“Babe? Who the fuck is this?” He asks.

“No one lets fucking go.” You snicker, you have never been more infuriated in your life.

He follows you back inside the theater, you can still hear your mom yelling like the psychotic bitch she is, and behind closed doors, you can’t stop the shaking. You don’t care if Mattias saw you like this, you needed Laylah.

“Get Laylah, find Laylah please Mattias.”

“Ok baby, I’ll go find her.”

When he left you and you were finally alone, you gasped for air. That really was her. Your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. Your hands couldn’t control themselves, you couldn’t remember anything except your name, all you needed to do was throw everything up.

“Oh I got her, I got her.”

“Babe, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

You look at Laylah with your eyes spilling liquid, “She was here, she was fucking here Laylah, the whole crowd saw, Papparazzi saw, fans saw. I can’t… move. I don’t know what to do.” They slipped down to the floor with you, they put their arms around you and Mattias followed, all holding each other in a ball.

“I don’t know why she came, I don’t know why she’s here, I don’t know how she found out I was even in this.” You ramble.

“Ok calm. Do you feel safe right now?” They ask.

“Yes, you’re both here, that's all that matters. I just can’t process everything right now. I don’t think I can move from here.”

“Ok we can wait here then, we won’t leave until you want to.” Mattias soothes.

You could stay in the corner with those two for an eternity. You wanted Frankie too, but you didn't need to burden him with your life, you didn’t need to have him worry about you in any capacity, when you were already putting both of your careers in jeopardy. They both held you so close, and this was a moment in your life you would pocket. Two people you hold dearly in your heart, that you would never let go.

You felt your phone buzz, you had to check it to see if it was Frankie, but it wasn’t, it was an instagram notification from Frankie. Your heart dropped. Mattias’s phone buzzed too.

You open the app at the same time, a post of you two bowing together on the stage.

Captioned: “The Macbeths”

The past couple months working with these two have been an experience of a lifetime for my career. I couldn’t imagine anyone else in these roles. The stars of the new generation.

“Didn’t know he liked me that much.” Mattias giggles. Laylah looks at you and they look happy, they weren’t that shocked when you told them about you two, seeing the instagram post proves how much he cares about you. How his page is now two posts of you.

Your heart dropped but you're happy too, this is what a teacher would post, he’s proud of the work he’s done.

New Message:

Frankie: Comin to the afterparty at the club? Leaving with the guys, I have another surprise tonight for you baby girl.

Fuck, the afterparty.

“Do you guys want to go to the afterparty?” You chip up.

“No, not without you and I’m not leaving you.” Laylah.

“No it’s okay, I think I can go. I’m okay. These few minutes I needed but I’m good now.” You weren’t lying, you didn’t exactly want to stay here forever and be the buzzkill of the night. You all had worked on this play for months, and if you missed this you would hate yourself more.

You would get to see Frankie, and just by his presence that would calm you down and make you forget the whole night.

“Let's go, I wanna go. Do I look okay for a club?” You ask.

“You always look okay baby, I’ll get a cab.” Mattias gets up, holding his hands out for you and Laylah.

You collect your bag and jacket, fixing your hair. Trying to prepare for the rest of the night. You and Laylah follow Mattias to the other end of the theater, where fans won’t be, getting inside a cab and decompressing.

“Rumpus room please, on East Houston and Elridge.” Laylah tells the cab driver.

You text back Frankie,

You: Laylah, Mattias and I are on our way, be there in 10.

Frankie: The guys and I already ordered some drinks, want anything?

You: I’m okay, keep your hands to yourself tonight pretty boy

Frankie: Make me

You: I promise I will. That picture you posted, it’s beautiful by the way.

Frankie: I know, someone in it that is.

You: Hey what about Mattias?

Frankie: He can be too, but my girl owns the world.

You: What’s your special surprise tonight?

Frankie: I wanted to take you somewhere again, not my house tonight

Where else could he take you? You were getting worried he was spending too much money on you, but that was a battle for another night.

Laylahs playing hype music, and you feel the warmth in your blood again, nothing to worry about.

“How many people do you think will be there?” You ask.

“I mean the whole school kinda show’s up to things like this, so there could be hundreds.” Mattias answers.

Maybe you could slip away with Frankie unnoticed.

You guys arrived outside the club, and people were cheering for you both, never receiving this special treatment, but you did check behind your back to make sure your mom wasn’t there, just a precaution. And once you walk in there was this whole atrium, almost a room so big that you could fit people in it for a concert. Bodies everywhere left and right. Some people you recognized, but most you’ve never talked to. Mattias and Laylah were by your sides, Bryce weaving through people to find Laylah. As you walked in, more eyes feel your way and hands started clapping, a DJ found a spotlight on you both, finally going over a god mic,

“There's the winners of the night, let's have a round of applause for the Macbeths!” Whistles and yelps were spread everywhere, Mattias hugged you and a wave of happiness spread through you. You did this, you had the power of an artist right now. Life was so good.

You guys walked up stairs to get to the bar, able to see the whole dance floor, and that’s when you see Frankie with the directors in the opposite corner. He met eyes with you and you smirk, at least he’s here. He changed from his regular outfit, all the guys in the corner are wearing suits, you were practically drooling over what you could see from Frankie.

“Gin and Tonic please, babe you want anything?” Mattias asks.

Fuck it.

“I’ll do the same as him.” You repeat.

Laylah and Bryce order, sitting on the bar barstools chatting. You felt earthy right now, light and accomplished. Even though you barely knew anyone in here, you could still be yourself. You took sips of your drink, muscles relaxing.

“Is he here?” Laylah whispers, asking about Frankie.

“Yes, he is, but I can’t be near him, people would think it’s weird and he doesn’t know.” You point at Mattias. “But I’m seeing him after.” You shrug.

“He makes you happy. If you’re happy I’m happy.” They kiss your head, “Does he know about stuff with your mom?”

“I’ve told him a few things, but no need to rush into all that with him.”

“Take it lightly tonight, okay? Don’t rush into anything, your moms psychotic.” They shiver.

“Trust me I know, I grew up with the woman.” You blink.

Was it bad that you missed her, even though she treated you like shit?

Mattias and Bryce were on their phones whispering, you didn’t know what about, but they looked worried. Boys being boys.

“No phones, let’s all go dance.”

You drag all of them off their seats and set your drinks on the bar, slipping into the crowd of people, maybe Frankie will see you. See your body dancing, craving his hands all over you.

So many people were still congratulating you, wanting to dance with you, your smile so wide. It made you think about the spring, and the musical. You realize after this it doesn’t even matter if you get a named character. You at least want to be a part of the production.

So many people were focused on showing off what roles they had, but you were at least happy that you could be a part of any production. You wanted to end your senior year with a good note, not a stressed one.

You feel hands on you, and it’s Hannah and Rose.

“YOU DID AMAZING, YOU BOTH DID.” They scream over the music. You jump up and down with them, catching up with them since you all have been so busy. It was nice to see their faces, more people than you knew at this crazy party.

“You and Mattias are being posted everywhere, those interviews are already out! And Mr. Morales posting you guys, that’s really big for you both.” Rose jumps, giddily.

“What does this all mean?” You ask.

“You guys will get fucking scouted, you’re going to go into Hollywood duh!” Hannah giggles, they both already seem drunk, this news making your body lurch with euphoria.

“I’m gonna go sip on my drink, anyone wanna come with?” You ask.

Nobody moves, so you leave the group alone, only 10 steps to the bar. You find your drink and sit on the stool. A moment to yourself and a lot to process. You thought out of your head for a second. This could have really started your career. People, we're going to start recognizing you, people are gonna start emailing you. This was it. Eventually after downing the rest of your drink, you got up to go back again, but this didn’t feel good.

You felt like you couldn’t walk, the music suddenly got louder and your head was pounding. How much had you actually drank? You were trying to scout out anyone you knew, trying to find Laylah shimmering hair, or maybe Frankie with his friends. But nothing. You felt helpless, you were lost and you didn’t know what to do. You looked for bathroom signs, and immediately stumbled over there. You walked down the cold hallway, not able to process.

What the fuck was going on?

You opened the door to what you thought was the bathroom, which it did say bathroom but it was pitch black, and the words on the door were blurry.

Flash.

Immediately hands were all over, the room spinning faster than you could comprehend. You’re pulled into the rooms and you hear giggles rapture from every corner of the room, you hear the door lock from the inside, and you’re in no control of what happens now. You can’t leave, you can’t fight. You’re physically unable to move, your breathing quickens and sweat falls down your forehead. The lights turn on, your eyes fight to adjust to the new night.

“Didn’t even bother to cover your own drink you dumb bitch.”

Nina.

“Yeah it’s fucking me you dumb whore.” Laughs again, you freeze, with what you’re able to do you back against the steel wall.

There's about 6 girls surrounding you, one with a flash on you, one you're sure is recording. Incolitarlty, you can feel tears streaming down your face.

“Fucking cunt stole my role, payback you little fucking trailer trash slut.” She slaps you, but at least you couldn’t feel it. You tried to hit her back, but she caught you fist, your reaction time was too slow.

“Drugs gonna make you sleepy honey, no need to fight me back. I already got you ass.” She smirks. All her friends howl in laughter.

“Nina… what did.. I ever do to you? …I’ve never… hurt you..” You stammer, trying to slur formal words together. You were fading fast.

She grabs your mouth in her hands, “You. Took. My. Spotlight. And you’re gonna pay for it. You didn’t think I was gonna let you slide with this, you thought I was gonna back off? Well fuckin welcome to New York babe, nobody backs of here.”

Nina backs off from you and in the corner of your eye, a girl standing on a toilet lid is holding a big bucket, eventually dumping a bucket of red liquid all over you. It woke you up, but the room was still hazy. You tried to wipe it from your eyes, but you got it all over the wall, it seeping down your body to the floor.

“Fucking screaming banshee… THAT WAS MY ROLE.” She gets up all in your face, still frozen from fear.

“Nina, do you think it’ll work, do you think it’ll wake her up?” The red substance was so cold, you didn’t know what it was, but you prayed it wasn’t real blood. It didn’t have an odor, but your veins were shrieking from the temperature.

“Brie, bitch it has to, the cunt has to stay awake, if she doesn’t we're all dead.” You hear her respond.

Before you really start to slip, all the girls are murmuring with Nina, this was their plan. To drug you and try to make you stay awake, to use you. To lock you in here and hurt you. But if it didn’t work? Then what? Leave you to die? Leave you to rot in this red scum?

Nina comes back up to you again, the impact of her hand, her nails dragging on your face brutally keeping you standing against the wall.

“Where's your little friend, where’d they all go huh? Not here to protect their little puppy.” She cackles. “You follow all of them around when they don’t need you, a worthless piece of shit.” She grabs your hair, putting her mouth close to your ear.

“Gonna go run to mommy and daddy, gonna go cry about it? Gonna cry like a little girl and run away?”

You fall with nothing less to lose. Nina couldn’t hold you up anymore. Another girl holds a phone in your face and it’s a video, a street view video of you frozen outside the theater, your mom yelling at you. Calling you names, hurling herself at you. Her voice made the wind in your body howl, you couldn’t take it anymore. You started to scream.

Not words, but you screamed for the world to know your pain. You never meant to hurt anyone in your life. You never meant to be mean to Nina, your mom, the world. You never wanted anything.

“That’s right you ugly whore, don’t have a mommy to run to I see. Mommy doesn’t love her fat daughter.” She wiggles the phone from her friend's hand, shoving it in your face, “Deux moi’s having a fun time with this one.” You hear the door open, all of their feet shuffle out, the light switch turning off.

“Have a good night, don’t let drugs bite.” The door shuts.

You were trying so hard not to fall asleep, but it’s what you need to do. You can’t refrain anymore.

You whimper, “Frankie….”

Black.

taglist: @pastelnap @beefrobeefcal

previous || next

Summary: Reader gets a bad childhood flashback with her mom, then reader finishes the last of lady mac for the last show, thinking she sees her mom in the crowd. After the show ends, Mattias drags her outside to say hi to people, paps are there and so many more people than the previous night before. Then reader sees her mom, and she freezes, feeling like a kid again, her mom goes crazy. Reader and Mattias eventually go back into the theatre finding Laylah, they check on reader, she feels okay to go to the after party. Frankie posts a picture of Mattias and reader, talking about how proud he is of both of them. Then he texts reader about another suprise for her. She feels good for the rest of the night. Showing up to the after party club. Dancing with Laylah, Bryce, Mattias, Rose and Hannah. Reader goes back to bar to drink the rest of her drink, feeling woozy she goes to the bathroom to be bombarded with Nina and her minions.

Ending was hard to write, but necessary, creating Nina has gone against every molecule of my body.

#frankie morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfics #frankie morales fanfiction #fanfiction #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #upper east side #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #lady macbeth #new york city #frankie morales au #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfics #pedrostories #pedro pascal daddy #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie

[carrymelikeimcute]

Titanic AU

Edward knows the rules - decks are for passengers, his place is down in the overheated engine rooms or the packed cabins where the walls run with the damp of everyone's breath, soot on everything, even the beds. That's where he's paid to be.

But it's so late, and almost all the passengers are sleeping. He can't resist it - the fresh, cold as glass air and the stars above. The roar of the propellers and the music as the first-class band winds up the evening in the dining room. So he's up here again, at the very back of the ship, sprawled on a bench and looking at the sky, tightly rolled cigarette in hand.

He only looks around when he hears footsteps, wondering if he's in trouble. But it's just one of the first-class passengers, a bloke in a fancy suit walking quickly towards the railing. Probably about to throw up - he certainly looks like shit, though if he weren't so pale and miserable looking he'd probably be...he shakes that thought away. That's one sure way to get burned.

Ed's still watching when the guy leans against the flag pole, pausing for a moment before he starts climbing over the railing.

"What the fuck?" it's a whisper, there's no one else around to hear but he definitely doesn't want to startle this...crazy fuckwit.

He's on his feet in seconds, moving quietly but quickly until he's close enough to hear the man's erratic breath as it shivers out of his lungs. He's on the other side of the railing now, clinging to it with his arms behind him. Ed doesn't approach from behind, but from the side, trying to look calm and to not give the guy a shock - already asking a lot seeing as he's out here in his work clothes with a leather coat over to hide the soot and sweat.

"You...alright there, mate?"

It's a terrible opening gambit and it does make the guy jump, just a little. His head whips round. Ed knows he hasn't seen him on any of his little 'jaunts' to the decks. He'd remember, because up close...fucking hell. He looks like a painting. A sad one, but a beautiful one nonetheless.

"I'm find, really there's no need for your concern," the stranger manages.

"Right...so..." he edges a bit closer. "Evening going well?"

The stranger huffs a laugh that borders on a sob. "It's actually my engagement dinner."

Ed has known some marriage-shy men in his time - men like his father - most of them either deserted their brides-to-be or fucked around regardless of their engagement. They did not, in his experience, stand alone over a drop into the midnight black Atlantic like the heroine in a gothic novel.

"I really don't want to talk about it," the guy says. "If you could just...leave, please. Sorry to be rude but...please."

Ed tuts thoughtfully and makes a show of looking down over the railing, inching closer as he does so.

"Can't do that now, can I? Might have to jump in after you."

"Don't be ridiculous," he looks appalled. "You'd...die."

Ed nods, humming agreement. "Probably, yeah. Tell you what - since we're going to be dying together, maybe we could take five or ten minutes to get properly acquainted." He holds his hand out from right by the guy's side. "Ed Teach - 'M a stoker."

The man looks at him like he's insane, but he takes his hand anyway, fingers shaking a little, but apparently trusting him enough to let go of the rail for a moment. "Stede Bonnet. Um...passenger."

"Nice to meet you," Ed says, then hauls him bodily back over the railing with a grunt of effort and the realisation that he's probably about to ruin this guy's suit.

#ofmd #gentlebeard #ofmd AU #ofmd titanic AU #gentlebeard fic #ed x stede #has this been done a thousand times?? #I don't care

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

I've been feeling a lot of stuff at work and that turned into a Ronance fic that's only mildly not a total self-insert. A03 link here.

Excerpt after the cut. If you're a nurse or a tech worker and I got stuff wrong, please yell at me and I'll maybe fix it

"Dude, what the fuck?! You can't lock me out of my own house!" Robin shrieks at Steve through the door crack.

"Sorry Robs, Baph and I are having a guy's night. No girls allowed."

Baphomet peeks at her and meows.

"Yes, my lord. She should go to that bookstore and have a nice pastry."

"Please Steve, at least let me stash my bag. It's so heavy." Robin whines.

"Hmmm...request received." Steve steps back. Robin can see him put his hands on his hips. "My lord? Your verdict?" Steve leans over to Baphomet who trills. Steve gets his face right up to the small opening with a shit eating grin. "Nope," he says, popping the p. "See you in.... ninety minutes!"

Robin flails. Steve shuts the door in her face. She can hear him dragging something behind the door, as if she'd have the strength to try to break it in. Robin is exhausted . She hangs around for a bit, hoping Steve would change his mind, but she eventually leaves the apartment and heads towards the bookshop. Annoyingly, walking in a direction that's not to her office does lighten the tight coil around her chest. Stupid bitchy Steve. How dare he be right.

Robin goes into the bookstore determined to have a miserable time. But it's beautiful. The shop smells like pastries and paper. There's soft, inviting couches and a shelf highlighting queer sci-fi. It looks like there's going to be an event soon. There's folding chairs in the middle of the store. A gorgeous woman with soft curls, a pointy jaw, and large brown eyes sits on a comfy chair facing the folding chairs. She's talking to an older woman wearing the store's t-shirt. The older woman glances at Robin. "Are you here for the signing?" She asks. Her name tag says Joyce.

Robin opens her mouth to say no, that she just came in to browse and maybe get a pastry. But the other woman looks so hopeful that Robin decides that yes, she's going to buy whatever book this woman wrote, get it signed, and read it. And she's going to like it.

"Yes!" Robin says, picking up one of the books around the folding chairs. It's a romance set in an Antarctic expedition. Oh no, it looks horrible at a glance. But don't judge a book by its cover right? "Hope I'm not too early," Robin says brightly. The woman raises a perfect eyebrow. She stares at Robin. Her beautiful brown eyes pierce into Robin's soul.

The woman finally speaks. "The signing 'started'," she makes finger quotes, "ten minutes ago."

She smiles. "And that's not my book."

Shit.

"Oh, oh, sorry err..."

The woman laughs hysterically, folding into herself. She's loud. She's so tiny that Robin expected everything else about her to also be tiny and delicate. But she laughs a belly laugh, a loud, a little honky. Robin would happily listen to it all day.

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to give you a hard time. It's my bad anyway for scheduling on a weekday evening. I thought at least some of the people who RSVP'd would show up," the woman says. "You don't have to feel obligated to stick around. I'll live."

Joyce tuts. "People are so flaky these days. What were you actually here for?"

Heat creeps up Robin's face. "I was, well, I've been really sad recently. And my roommate slash ex -best friend got sick of my moping and kicked me out." The woman with the curls nods sympathetically. "He said I should check out this store since I used to like reading before I got my soul sucked out of me? And now I'm here... and I've never met an actual author before in person! So I figured it would be nice to talk to her...herself? Whatever book it is that she wrote?" She can feel flames on her face. "And...I am saying too much and I should just go sit in that corner and order pastries and your book and leave you both alone for the rest of time." Robin finishes with a mumble.

The woman settles back into her chair like it's a throne, head high. "And what kind of books did you use to like?" She asks with a sharp smile that makes Robin's heart skip a beat.

"Oh, um..." damn, did she like things anymore? "I guess...I liked books on animal behavior. I'm a big fan of Terry Pratchett....I also used to be really into, erm, books about fraud? I must have read the 'Smartest People In The Room', and 'When Genius Failed', at least three times each," Robin corrects herself even though she's been told no one cares. "Wait no, they're not both about fraud. Corporate hubris then. Corporate hubris." Robin knows that no one actually wants this much detail. But the way the woman looks at her makes her feel flustered, not in a bad way, but enough that she can't quash her instinct to say anything and everything.

Robin feels stuck in place, caught in the void of the other woman's gaze. She smiles, kindly this time. "Well, it's my lucky day then. My book fits one of those categories. It's that one next to the novel you picked out initially."

So Robin had had a 50% chance of successfully lying and she missed it because she has the worst luck and nothing happens the way she wants. Or maybe this was a good thing? If she hadn't been caught in a lie, she wouldn't have been able to hear the other woman laugh. Robin grabs the other book. The back says something about space exploration and environmental destruction. Oh, perfect. Animals and corporate hubris. The author's name is in small print at the bottom. Nancy Wheeler.

"Do you want to come a little closer?" Nancy asks. "I can tell you about the book so you can decide if you really want it. I don't want you to feel pressured to buy anything just because I'm here."

"Erp, yeah! Yeah. Of course." Robin grabs a folding chair and drags it over to Nancy's throne, no, chair, and trips. Nancy shoots up and grabs at Robin to help her stay upright. Robin grabs the offered arm. It's very thin but firm, nearly all lean muscle. Nancy helps her move the folding chair so they're sitting as close as possible.

#ronance #robin x nancy #stranger things fanfiction

[ofallthingsnasty]

hi nasty! idk if you remember but a few months ago I told you how I was learning German in a class and it was hard. so anyways the reason that I even chose that language is because my boyfriend and his family speak German. So last week it was thanksgiving and they don’t really care about that because they said there is no thanksgiving in Germany but I still wanted to have a get together. So I made some desserts and me and my boyfriend go to his family’s house and I tried to speak to them in German and I said the wrong thing and everyone laughed at me and I’m sad about it :( I know I’m being over dramatic but now I feel like there’s no point to even continuing learning because the whole point was for them!! anyways sorry for rambling about this to you tldr: German is hard :(((

Hi!! Yes!! Of course I remember you!!

First of all, I wanna apologize because that is honestly really, really rude. German is really hard and the native speakers know this (see books like 'Der Dativ ist dem Genitiv sein Tod' and all sorts of jokes and memes) so to make fun of someone who is learning baffles me. Second, you definitely have guts - my last ltr boyfriend's family spoke Spanish at home and in all the years we were together I was too chicken to learn the language because I was scared of fucking it up - it's always hard to muster up the courage to start talking in front of native speakers. I can't imagine how humiliated you feel right now, I'm honestly so sorry :( I wish I could give you a hug right now. Of course I wasn't there and all but I hope your boyfriend has a talk with them/tells them it was rude. "Wie du mir, so ich dir" is a thing in German, too. It's really unacceptable behavior. If you feel like giving up - I hope you don't but I can really understand it. But German is also a fun and whimsical language - and the countries it's spoken in are beautiful and people are stoked when you tell them you've been studying, usually!! Here, let me give you some YouTube links -- like a fairy tale cartoon I grew up with, or one of the bands that was popular in my youth, a popular non-fiction kid's show, and of course, Bernd das Brot. Maybe these can cheer you up a little, tut mir echt leid 😢💕

#ask #anon

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

"yes you do. you've got every reason to fake your love for me. you're faking it right now, actually. acting like you care when you don't give a damn at all. it's all about that contract right? i leave, you threaten me, right? wow, i feel so loved" you say and the tension between the two of you just gets worse and worse. you're both glaring at one another and it's hard to tell if there's any love in the room.

if someone were to walk in they would depict you two as enemies rather than rivals. but it all changes when your mother walks in the room holding your photo album of when you were a baby.

"this is y/n when she was 4 months old. isn't she cute? she ate a lot too. such a cute chubby baby"

"this is y/n when she first rode her bike!! aww, look y/n~"

"this is y/n with her father" sighs your mom and she pauses to look at the man with such a resounding resemblance. "i hate that you look just like him. makes me feel like i did all the hard work for nothin" she says while giggling and you laugh a little too.

"he's the reason why i call her tuts. spoiled her so much to the point where she wouldn't listen to me" your mother says while pinching your cheek. "you know, jungkook, your parents did a fine job with you. you're such a handsome young man, i'm sure your mother is proud of you"

you want to roll your eyes AGAIN. you're sure he grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth his whole life. everything about him resembles a spoiled brat in your eyes. your mother might be the reason why he can't take no for an answer and maybe when you see her you'll ask if she dropped him on his head as a baby.

“shut the fuck up why are you such a brat?” he grits his teeth. Oh, you are so good at pissing him off always

You both clear at each other, and as much as he loves your anger because he looks so sexy while you’re angry but he’s not gonna admit that to you right now.

But it is almost amusing for him to see you like that because you’re always so obedient and so cheery around him.

This side of yours is definitely new, but he doesn’t mind it a lot.

He’s having fun, staring into your eyes and you not looking away for once it’s like his soul is on fire, but your mother soon comes into the room and you’re both interrupted.

“oh Mrs l/n.. I am so excited to see her baby pictures!!” he turns his attention to your mother and his demeanor, completely changes.

He knows how to charm people hes got his sweet bunny smile on.

As your mother sits down right in front of him and she put the Baby album on display, he senses your embarrassment.

“Oh my goodness she was such a beautiful baby.” he claims. He’s surprised to see you as a baby.

Adult is so much finer, and sexier obviously, and he loves you so much but seeing you as a baby is adorable and completely new experience

Jungkook watches the photos with complete awe as your mother shows him the pictures it’s almost like he’s a part of your family almost because he’s getting to see your most vulnerable memories.

That makes him feel so good.

And he giggles as he sees your various pictures. You were such a cute little baby and a very naughty toddler.

And that is a picture of you with your father comes on, and he moves his eyes to get a look at your expressions.

You get a little sad.

“ oh, wow, Mr. L/n was such a handsome man, huh?” he tries to lighten the mood.. washes that picture carefully because he gets to see you completely smiling and so comfortable and happy.

You are rarely like that with him.

“ she really does look like her dad a lot, but you are a beautiful woman too, Mrs l/n.” Jungkook giggles along with you and your mother.

He loves to see you smile that makes him happy.

But the next information that your mother provides him, it makes him amused, and he whispers under his breath, makes the two of us. And he raises his eyebrow.

“wow so he loved it to spoil her? She doesn’t have to worry about that because you know I love to spoil your daughter too..” he smirks as he tilts his head and steals a glimpse at you.

As your mother mentions his parents, he gets a little uncomfortable.

“ my parents?! Haha.. yeah.”

#ask: tpol!jungkook

[randynova]

♡𝓜𝔂 𝓦𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷♡

𝓖𝓾𝓷 𝔁 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝐴𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝐺𝑢𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝐺𝑜𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔(𝑠):𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡(𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝)! 𝐺𝑢𝑛

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

“Why couldn’t this have waited until another day?” Gun muttered, unbuttoning his shirt, letting it slide off his taut frame, and neatly folding it, placing it onto the roof of his car. He was glad he hadn't put his jacket on, having left it in his passenger seat. “I can’t dirty my clothes again, [Name] will be mad if I get blood on it.” He rolled his broad shoulders until they released a satisfying crack, his thick muscles bulging as he stretched his arms across his scarred chest. Gun peered at a nearby store, the digital clock displaying in big white numbers, ‘7:45 PM’. He groaned, his lips curling into a scowl whilst his arms fell to his side. He didn’t have enough time to deal with this.

“Hmm, and it’s almost time for our date. Fuck.” Gun whispered to himself. He clenched his fists, narrowing his eyes at the man across from him. He removed his shades and revealed his dark gaze, placing his favorite accessory to his side as well. “I’ll make this quick, Goo. I have more important places to be.”

Goo laughed, grinning in his spot as he balanced a pole in his hands. He rolled his eyes, arching a brow at his partner. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Gun, maybe if you didn’t spend all your time by [Name]’s side, we could have dealt with this matter much earlier. That girl has you wrapped around her pretty little finger, huh?”

“Shut it,” Gun said, already racing towards the blonde and thrusting his fist, knuckles colliding with metal. Upon the cold sensation meeting his skin, he wanted to absolutely kill Goo and rip him to shreds. This would take longer than he wanted, wasting his already precious, short time. He backed off, having a considerable distance between the two, stretching his fingers a few times before clenching them again. He growled, spitting venomously,  “You just like picking fights.” 

“You did too. Before you met her, y’know,” Goo tutted, waving his finger in the air. He scoffed, voice low, “Who would’ve thought? Gun going soft for a girl. Psh, pathetic. Never thought I’d live to see the day...” The blonde trailed off, his face becoming stoic, his mind wandering. You truly had to be someone exceptional if you managed to have a guy like Gun to fall for you. He always wondered who you were, how you looked like, what you did, but Gun had kept you a secret from the world of crime. He hid almost every known trace abou you and tied every loose end that implicated you existed. No one knew who you were and no one could find you — unless Gun allowed them to. 

Goo found it so irritating how he was unable to know the girl who made such a notorious gangster go soft. 

He only met you once and that was by pure sheer luck; dropping by unexpectedly at one of Gun's apartments, only to be met with the sight of you. Seeing how Gun reacted, he knew you were supposed to be kept hush-hush. But boy, did he have a field day the next time he saw the man.

Goo had to meet you again. Or at least, know you more.

Only when Gun’s fist connected with Goo’s face did the man snap out of his thoughts, the impact of such force throwing him a few feet backwards. He dug his feet into the floor, a high-pitched screech coming from his shoes as the rubber burned against the pavement. With his sleeve, Goo wiped his cheek, seeing a speck of blood staining his clothes. Goo chuckled, standing up straight with a grin, “If I can remember right, you told me you got Eli Jang in trouble for basically the same thing. What was her name again? Heather?”

Goo blocked the upcoming attack, his pole raised and crossed above his face. He pushed Gun back with an effortless swing of the pole. He tilted his head and scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “How is [Name] any different from Heather? What does she have on you?”

Gun twisted his neck gently until he heard a crack, looking back at Goo as he hissed with venom, “Nothing.”

“Let me think, let me think….” Goo hummed, racking his mind for any possibility that someone like Gun would stay with a woman longer than one night. His face lit up and he broke out into a wide grin, pointing a finger at Gun. “Aha! You got the poor girl knocked up, right?! See, I always tell you to wear protection! Just couldn’t keep it in your pants, hm? Shaaame.” 

“Ugh, fuck no. I don’t want kids and neither does she. We made that clear at the beginning," Gun said with a sneer, annoyed beyond comprehension at Goo's antics. 

“Awe, I really thought she held something over you. How about this: I’ll stop fighting you if you tell me why you’re still with such a pretty girl like [Name]? Deal?" Goo offered, slinging the pole onto his shoulder. His eyes darkened as he spat maliciously, knowing each word would wind and rile Gun's emotions. "She deserves better than a perverted gangster, you both know that.”

Gun stayed silent, the corners of his lips tugging down into a frown. Goo’s last words struck a chord in him, sending a pang through his heart upon hearing an insecurity he’ll never admit to. Of course. Everyone told you to stay away from a man like Gun. People kept telling you you will only get hurt in the end, that a better man will come along and sweep you off your feet if you just waited, or you could always do better than him. But you never listened. You stayed by his side, even when the whole world looked down on you two. Even for months, he tried convincing himself he felt nothing for you, but after a while, he finally accepted that someone managed to tear down his walls and enter his hollow, cold heart — you. 

You were just a different kind of girl - no- a different kind of woman. A special woman he had the pleasure of meeting. One he wouldn’t dare let go of now that he has the privilege of calling you ‘mine’. And by any god out there, he won’t be a stupid fool to lose you.

Gun sighed. “I tell you and you’ll put this stupid fight behind us, right?”

Goo placed a hand over his chest, replying shortly, “You have my word.~”

“[Name] is just that special person you meet once in your life. One you know you can’t let go of because there isn’t another like her. Simple as that.”

“What?! Ugh, don’t be boring! Tell me more!”

“You asked why I  stayed with her and I told you.”

“Yeah, but I expected a story, not some sad attempt at an old man’s wise words.”

A low guttural sound rumbled in Gun’s throat, his eye twitching. “Maybe when I’m in a better mood I’ll tell you, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my woman.”

Goo groaned and tossed his pole to the side, rolling his eyes and grumbling, "Fiiine, but you owe me a story. "

"Whatever—damnit," Gun looked at the clock once again and his face contorted into one of pure irate. "I'm late."

'8:12 PM'

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Your head rested on your hand, balancing a glass of wine between your fingers, twirling the cup as the liquid swished around. Your eyes were looking down on the glory of Gangdong, the shimmering, blinding lights of the city mesmerizing you. The city always looked beautiful at this time of night. You just wished you could enjoy it with the person you cherished. A sigh leaves your lips and you look away, eyes trailing to the other tables over the balcony. 

The lingering eyes of many strange men didn't faze you anymore, the two burly boys surrounding your table always making them avert their gaze as fast as it landed. A courtesy of your boyfriend, who was at least thirteen minutes late, who insisted on you needing to be guarded at all times. You knew if he were here, no one would dare to even breathe in your direction, let alone glance. 

The cool air pricked your skin and a shiver passed through your body, reminding you of where you were. For a man as smart as him, Gun tended to neglect keeping the season in mind when planning your dates. Nonetheless, you were happy he went out of his way to take you out on such a busy schedule. 

You jumped in your seat, snapping out of your thoughts. A jacket was wrapped around your frame, warmth immediately enveloping you as the fabric made contact with your bare skin. You looked up and smiled. 

Gun stood behind you, towering over your sitting form as he made sure you were nice and covered. His coat basically swallowed you whole. A small stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, it’s fluffy fur peeking out. He walked over to take his seat, pulling the chair out, and wasting no time to slip in. He waved to the guards and they nodded, beginning to clear the scene of people.

“Sorry I’m late, [Name],” Gun started, taking the stuffie out from underneath his arm and presenting it to you. Oh, how adorable. "I brought you a gift as an apology."

A small brown otter sat in his palms, barely taking up Gun's hands. It’s beady, plastic eyes looked straight at you, a little smile stitched onto its snout. A snort left you. The sight of such a well-dressed, intimidating man carrying such an adorable toy was  amusing. "Really now? Just a cute toy, Gun?"

Gun sighed and sat up a bit from his chair, leaning over the table, and cupping your face as he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As quick as it started, Gun's lips left and he was seated once again. You pout. "Don't give me that look, [Name]. We can do more at home if you want but not here."

"It's not wrong to be disappointed in no kiss on the mouth after not seeing your boyfriend for such a long time. Don't you think I deserve it?"

Gun smirked, placing his shades on the table and taking your hand, intertwining your fingers together. He gave a light squeeze and you didn't miss a beat as you squeezed his coarse hand back. The way you pursed your lips and looked at him with such glossy, innocent eyes made his heart swell. With such a pretty, cute face, it was hard to say no to you. "Hmm, maybe. But Olly told me you crossed paths with Hostel A." Gun spoke, slipping his hands from yours and picking up his dinnerware, quickly cutting the savory meat into pieces. He didn't hesitate to put a piece up to your mouth, a hand underneath so as to not have the juice leak. "I was told you nearly broke the Uncles' bones and Big Daddy himself."

Your face scrunched up and you scoffed, shaking your head. You placed the stuffed animal to the side, petting it. "Figured those assholes wouldn’t tell you everything. The ‘uncles’ wouldn’t leave me alone and I thought Olly was another one of those bastards,” you snap, sitting back in your seat with a scowl. “How was I supposed to know he was trying to help when he dresses like that? I thought he was trying to assault me for God’s sake!”

Gun placed down his fork on his plate and his face twisted into one of fury, eyes turning cold and rigid as all the warmth disappeared whilst his lips curled back into a nasty frown. You almost thought his infamous scowl was directed towards you, but you knew better. You dear boyfriend wouldn't dare lay a single finger on you if it didn't bring you pleasure. "They what?" 

You smiled softly, placing your hand over his as it clenched into a fist. With your small attempt at trying to soothe him by rubbing small circles, you spoke with a bit of hesitation, "Ah, yeah. They kept trying to get my number and wouldn't let me leave the booth I was in. I had no other choice than to use the training you taught me. Since I never met Olly, I really thought he was just another one of them and I reacted before thinking, making me attack him too."

Gun scoffed, shaking his head as he listened to your explanation with disbelief, every word fueling his rage of someone daring to hit on his woman. Every fiber in Gun's body screamed, wanting to feel their skin underneath his fists as he pounded them into oblivion. But the only thing stopping him was his date with you. For now, he'll put his anger aside to be with you and keep you happy. Who knows how long he'll be gone and when he'll see you again. The man has to make every second count. 

Yet, he couldn’t let this go unpunished.

"Fuck." Gun leans closer to you and sits on the edge of his chair. Placing his hand over yours, he slips his fingers to grasp your palm, and lifts your hand to his lips, pressing tender kisses against your knuckles. His thumb grazing softly across your fingers and his eyes flutter shut. You couldn't help but stare in awe, never quite seeing him like this.

So careful with you, so gentle, you were surprised he wasn't seething in his seat and threatening to break their heads open. Gun opens his eyes and looks up at you, shaking in his seat. “I promise I’ll have those fuckers begging on their knees for your forgiveness. They should know better than to treat a woman with such rudeness and disrespect. Shit, I’ll go right now. I’ll beat them till-”

Your sweet laugh reaches his ears, cutting him off from his little speech. You lean in and pull in his hand to your lips, pressing a tender peck to his coarse knuckles. Gun felt his heart race and skip a beat at the sight, shock crossing his features. You look up, looking at your boyfriend with mirthful eyes. “As much fun as that sounds, I'd rather you stay here. Please? I want to spend as much time with you before you go back to work.”

The man stayed silent for a few seconds, taking in your words. He looked away, clicking his tongue before he broke out into a small smile, a blush blooming across his cheeks and the tip of his ears burning a bright red. “Of course, [Name]. Though, you could’ve just said you like spending time with me.”

Giggling, you lower your hands and shake your head. “Gun, of course I like spending time with you. You’re my favorite person and I love you after all.” Your voice said those three words with such fondness, it’s as if the man was in a dream. 

If your words from before didn’t send Gun over the edge, your proclamation of love surely did now. He looked down, grinning like an idiot, showing a soft, bashful side he’s never revealed to anyone before. He swore his heart would jump out of his throat from how fast it was pounding against his ribcage. Gun grasped your hand tightly and sighed blissfully, Gently, he spoke, gazing at you with loving eyes, “I love you too.”

You smiled.

The tension in the air grew to be too much and both of you found it unbearable, wanting to do what both of you have been waiting for for weeks.

Both of you sat up and leaned over the table, closing the gap between you two as your lips interlocked, slipping together like if you were made for eachother. The kiss sparked and fed the fire both of you held in your hearts, burning brighter with every moment you spent at one another’s side. Gun couldn’t help but smile against your mouth.

As much as he hated being apart from you for so long, moments like these made the long hours worth it. If working so much meant he could provide for you, then he wouldn't mind doing it for the rest of his life if you had a roof over your head and a nice, warm meal at night.

Afterall, you were his woman.

And he loved you.

✦✦✦✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 .

✦✦✦✦✦✦

#lookism #lookism gun #lookism x reader #lookism imagine #lookism imagines #gun lookism #jong gun #jong gun x reader #lookism fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfiction x reader #fanfic #lookism fanfic #x reader #reader insert #reader #reader imagine #gun imagine #jong gun imagine

[salazarslytherin]

full (r.l x y/n)

requested: yes! [hi i got a request! can u write a smut where remus has a breeding kink and he’s scared that it’ll freak the reader out but she’s actually rlly into it n he just cums a lot into her (this is probably the spiciest thing i’ve ever typed in my life 💀💀)] send in your own request here!

🃛 masterlist!

cw/tw: tiny bit of angst at the beginning, insecurities?, breeding!kink, slight degradation, fem!reader, handjob, fingering etc. just SMUT.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i hope you like it y'all! if you do, pls do reblog/follow!! x

☯︎ join tag list here tag list: @marvelslut16, @siriusbarnesslut, @marimorena06, @weasleysbitch2, @reg-arcturus-black

Remus had been avoiding you for the past three days. Three days since you’d spoken to your boyfriend, two and half since you’d even seen him. It sucked.

The reasoning behind it was somehow worse - you’d tried to tell him you wanted to sleep with him, and he had literally run away.

So you were set on finding the boy and talking it out , and if it came to it, breaking up with him.

You didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t want you, especially to the extent of intentional avoidance.

You were in a relationship, not an extended game of hide and seek.

So you’d concocted a plan - Tuesdays were when the other boys had quidditch practice, and Remus would be in his dorm on his own for at least three hours, studying, doing homework, or whatever it was that he would do on his own.

Now, today was Tuesday, which meant that tomorrow morning you’d either be very satisfied, or very single.

You weren't even quite certain what you'd expected to come out of the confrontation – a screaming match where you found out all the reasons why he didn't want you? A startling confession where you found out that your boyfriend was a virgin?

Nevertheless, you stalked towards the Marauders' dorm room, intent on confronting him, only to falter as you reached the heavy doors, hearing sounds coming from the other side.

Registering what the noises were, you ground your teeth loudly, clenching your jaw as you gripped the doorknob.

"Oh fuck off."

⚔︎

You slammed the door open, Remus rolling off his bed in shock at the sound.

"Are you joking?!"

Remus looked at you in confusion and fear, kneeling beside the bed with his head peeking over the side, a sheepish blush coating his cheeks.

"Um, Y/N, do you mind? I was kind of in the middle of something..."

You let out a laugh of exasperation, throwing your schoolbag on the ground in frustration.

"Yeah, I know. I could hear you outside. Am I just so unattractive to you, that I basically tell you to fuck me and you had to run away from me? You'd rather fuck your own hand than me?!"

Bending over to pick up your bag, you could practically your heart breaking as Remus scrambled to put on his pants.

Your fears had been confirmed – he didn't find you as attractive as you found him, and it hurt. You just wanted to run far, far away from him, to hide yourself away and be able to release the tears that were threatening to escape.

But as you turned to run from the room, that familiar grasp landed on your wrist, stopping you from leaving the dreaded place.

"Y/N, wait–"

"No, I get it, okay? I don't need to hear you say it out loud."

Your voice cracked as you tried to wrench your hand out of the werewolf's grip, unable to hide your sadness and hurt as you were turned to face the boy.

"Y/N! Please, let me explain myself, please. If you want to leave afterwards, you can. I just, please?"

You didn't really want to hear his explanations, but some masochistic, yet hopeful, part of you wanted to know just why he didn't want you.

Maybe you could change for him?

You relaxed in his arms, still not quite looking into Remus' arms as you no longer made any attempts to run away.

"You're right, I did run away from you when you said you were ready to sleep with me."

Your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to hear the rest of his words.

"But that's just because I was afraid you wouldn't want to be with me anymore if I told you what I wanted."

Your eyes opened slowly as you lifted your head to look at the boy, your brows furrowed in confusion as you peered at him.

"What d'you mean?"

It was Remus' turn to become flustered now, his hands moving from your side to cover his face in embarrassment.

"I–okay. You know how you thought I ran away from you because I didn't find you attractive?"

You nodded, still half-convinced that was the truth, the reason why he'd avoided you for so long.

"It, it was the opposite."

You raised a brow in disbelief, unable to stop a skeptical laugh from escaping your mouth, Remus' hands falling away from his face so he could look into your eyes.

"It's true! I, fuck this is embarrassing, and you're probably going to run away from me if I tell you the truth."

You crossed your arms with a huff.

"Well right now I'm not quite certain there is a 'truth' that you speak of! I'm quite certain you're just making it all up, trying to hide the fact that you think I'm unattractive."

Remus grit his teeth, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly as if to shake you awake.

"No! That's absurd. I, I find you so bloody attractive, and, fuck it I'm just going to say it and if you break up with me I won't even blame you. I've been having dreams of you and I, but in those dreams," Remus' hands relaxed from your shoulders, falling to his side in embarrassment, "I would, um, cum inside of you, and uh, fill you with my pups."

Your jaw fell open at the boy's admission, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably before continuing to speak.

"And I've never even thought of that before! I think you're just so bloody hot that you've awoken some sort of primal instinct inside me, I just want to ruin you, and–and breed you. Fuck this sounds so creepy doesn't it."

You were incapable of shutting your jaw at this point. This was far from what you thought you'd hear from your boyfriend's mouth today.

"Y/N... I've scared you away, haven't I? I mean, of course you'd be freaked out..."

The boy continued to mumble to himself, terrified that he'd ruined your relationship, certain that you'd break up with him.

Contrary to what he thought though, you found his words incredibly hot.

And you'd be damned if you didn't make that a reality.

⚔︎

In the middle of Remus' ramblings, he was barely able to register that you'd moved towards him, placing your hands onto his cheeks until your soft voice rang in his ears.

"Remus?"

The brunette's eyes snapped to meet yours, gaze darting between each of your eyes as he awaited your words.

"Fucking ruin me, please."

Before the last word even left your mouth fully, Remus was already on top of you, his lips capturing yours hungrily, like you were his first meal in weeks and he was dying to have you.

As Remus devoured you, he backed the two of you onto his bed, his legs lodged between yours as you gripped onto his neck, eager to have him.

You arched your back as you were overcome with need, trying desperately to grind your clothed cunt onto his hard-on, but the boy only tutted at you, moving away from your lips to push your hips down on the bed.

"Such a desperate little slut, hmm?"

You only whined in return, trying to grind into his legs that were between you, Remus smirking down at you.

"Take your clothes off love."

Your hands moved to unbutton your school shirt without a second word, fingers moving in a flurry to throw it off before tossing your bra across the room, Remus moving at very much the same speed as he removed his clothes.

You both quickly found yourselves naked, admiring each other through lust-filled eyes as the boy lowered himself slowly towards you, his lips ghosting over yours as you laid yourself back down.

"So beautiful."

His lips quickly captured yours, both your hands exploring each other's bodies for the first time – tingles of excitement running through your bodies.

Your hands traced his scars as his ran down your curves, him stopping to suck in a breath as you cupped his cock, fully hardened under your fingers.

"Fuck, don't tease me Y/N."

You only licked the boy's lips in return, but was treated with a taste of your own medicine as his hand brushed your lower lips softly, tracing your slit teasingly slowly.

"Remus... Please."

Your cupped hand became a grip – encircling the werewolf's member as you began to pump up and down his shaft slowly, eliciting a low moan from Remus.

He responded by slipping a finger into you, the kiss broken as both your lips were preoccupied with a mixture of swears and moans, asking the other to hasten their pace as you two built up your orgasms.

"Wait, fuck stop. Stop Y/N."

Remus' other hand came to stop your hand as he kept himself up on his knees, pulling away from your close contact to look into your eyes.

"'m too fucking close, wanna cum inside you."

You swore you could feel your eyes darken at the boy's words, and so did his.

"Then fuck me."

⚔︎

Remus gripped your thighs tightly as he kissed down your body, spreading your legs and leaving a kiss on your soaking centre. You let out a shaky moan as he planted his tongue against it, licking a stripe up your lips.

"For next time."

The boy moved back up your body, his head hovering over yours as he looked down at his cock, pumping the already erect shaft before tracing his head along your lips.

"R-Remus, please. Want to feel you inside me."

The boy tutted at you mockingly, before sinking himself inside you slowly, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching around him.

"Fuck, you're so tight baby."

You moaned around him in a mix of pain and pleasure – his fingers not at all preparing you for his cock, stretching you in a way that none of your exes could ever compete with.

"You're so big Re, please, fuck."

Remus pressed a wet kiss to your forehead, his face contorted in pleasure as he awaited your green light to start moving.

After a moment, you nodded as the feeling of being full sent tingles down your spine, letting out a loud moan as the boy began moving out of you slowly, shifting himself so he could grip your hips more firmly for support.

"F-faster."

You muttered out as you clenched your walls around Remus, your orgasm already building from when he prepared you.

"Yeah, my desperate little slut wants me to go faster?"

His hips hastened the speed as his words made you whine loudly, his head lowering to leave kisses on your neck, marking you for the world to see.

“I’m close Re, fuck.”

“Me too princess.”

The boy buried his face into your neck as he began twitching inside of you, his speed faltering for a second as he let out a moan that could border on animalistic, cumming inside you.

The feeling of being filled more than you knew possible pushed you over the edge as Remus continued thrusting his seed deeper into you, moaning as your walls fluttered around him, cumming at the feeling of your boyfriend inside you.

"You look so fucking gorgeous right now love, such a good little cumslut for me, hmm?"

You could only whine in response as Remus continued fucking into you, his cock hardening yet again at the thought of you full of him.

"Gonna look so pretty filled with m'pups, love. Going to fill you up over and over and over again, watch my cum leak out of you because of how full you are."

You moaned at Remus' filthy words, turning to kiss his neck, softly nibbling on his earlobe as you gripped onto his shoulders.

"Yes Re, fuck. Fill me up, feel so good with you inside me. Making me feel so full. Wanna have your pups, want you to cum inside me. Make me yours Re."

It didn't take long for a second orgasm to start building, and it definitely didn't help that Remus had moved one hand to start rubbing at your clit, making you moan at the overstimulation.

"Feel good, hmm, love?"

You nodded into the boy's neck, your eyes squeezed shut as pleasure coursed throughout your body, unable to process proper words. The only sounds that filled the room were the sinful slaps of skin against skin, and a faint noise that made you blush.

It was the sound of Remus' cock slipping in and out of you, slick with the combination of both of your cum.

"Re, I-, fuck, close, again."

Unable to string together a proper sentence, your walls began fluttering around Remus yet again.

"So am I love. You feel so good, making me lose control. Wait for me, we'll cum together."

Your eyes rolled backwards, waiting for Remus. The task seemed impossible as pleasure pulsed throughout your body, your toes curling and legs shaking at the feelings.

"Re, please, I need to cum so badly. You feel so good."

Your nails dug into Remus' back, the feeling burning into him and making him groan into your neck.

"Yes, fuck Y/N. Cum with me love."

Finally able to release, you let out a moan that bordered on pornographic, seeing stars as your eyes squeezed shut much harder than before. You felt ropes of Remus' cum hit your walls, another animalistic groan reaching your ears as he bit into your neck, making you moan softly in the midst of a post-orgasmic bliss.

Panting, your chests rose and fall in tandem as Remus fell on top of you, his cock limp inside you. After a moment, he spoke up.

"Y'know you squirted?"

Your eyes shot open, staring at the boy who craned his neck to look down at you.

"I-, what?"

The werewolf let out a boyish smile, tongue running over his teeth as he stared down at you.

"It was hot."

#mine #writing #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter oneshot #remus lupin oneshot #marauders smut #marauders era #marauders x reader #hp smut #hp imagine #request

[mickey-henry]

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

pairing: bucky barnes (bookstore au) x reader

summary: eager to escape the heat, you find yourself in the presence of a mesmerizing bookstore and an irresistibly beautiful man.

word count: 2.3K

author’s note: hello! welcome to my third fic😊 I’m eager to share this with you all! I now have a taglist (the link is also in my bio) if you’re interested🥰 thank you to @certainaesthetic​ for helping me workshop this idea, @fuckandfluff​ for the grammar help, and @midnightf​ for hyping me up as I wrote it! likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! the header images are from pinterest and the divider is from here. I hope you like it! 💖

You’re desperate to escape the smoldering heat. It’s too hot to rest in the car; it’s been baking all day beneath the sweltering summer sun, parked just outside your place of work. If you attempt to sit in it now, you’d only be greeted with a wave of torrid air, stung with the touch of your seatbelt, and burnt from the searing leather of your steering wheel.

You’re off from work earlier than usual—the blinding sun is usually long beneath the horizon before you head home for the day. The pathetically small sun visor does nothing to shade your eyes from the blazing sunlight. Rather than driving half-blind, you decide to wait out the setting sun.

As you ponder how to spend the rest of your afternoon, you realize that now is an opportune time to visit the new bookstore, The Book Haven, that opened last month. After changing out of your uniform and throwing your work stuff in the trunk, you walk across the plaza to the shop entrance.

The bookstore greets you with the chime of a bell and a rush of cool air as you step in, a blissful contrast to the scorching outdoors. The welcoming scent of coffee grounds and the tangy aroma of old books accompany the refreshing breeze. You take a deep breath, appreciating the convivial atmosphere. The bookstore is a sublime sight; words almost can’t describe its charm.

Shelves like skyscrapers—stuffed to the brim with books, magazines, and comics—graze the ceiling. An intimate reading nook lies next to the door; an inviting window seat dwells beside a floor-to-ceiling window. Clear mosaic window clings cover the glass, casting beautiful rainbows throughout the store. Stringed vintage light bulbs illuminate the shelves; candle-lit sconces adorn the top corners of each one. Oriental rugs lay between the shelves, covering a dark mocha floor. Tucked in the back of the store is a small coffee cranny, hidden at first glance. Frank Sinatra’s charming, rich vocals travel through the air, tickling your ears. The owner clearly put the utmost time, energy, and love into the creation of their shop. It is unequivocally perfect and already one of your favorite places.

You wander to the classics section, enthralled by the exquisite covers. Sensing someone nearby, your eyes glance at movement caught in the corner of your eye. Your stomach somersaults at the stunning stranger. The instant you lay your eyes on him, you forget to breathe for a moment—your breath engulfs your throat. You’re astounded by the Adonis of a man before you.

Bristles of scruff grace his defined jawline—his low man-bun neatly styles his dark chestnut hair. A grey short-sleeve button-up shirt hugs his toned arms; a white tank top clings to his lean, fit frame; cuffed slim-fit khaki pants, help up by a bronze braided belt, embrace his thick thighs; and weathered, chunky brown leather shoes don his feet.

Through the rose-colored glasses that surround your heart, your soul imagines a life with a perfect stranger. The hopeless romantic in you can’t help but steal glances, hoping to catch a better glimpse of him. The moment he turns to walk away, your heart sinks to your stomach. You hope this isn’t the last time you see this gorgeous man.

A few minutes later, you’re mulling over a collectible edition of The Catcher in the Rye, attempting to justify purchasing yet another copy of your favorite book. A melodic voice interrupts your pondering. “That’s a pretty edition of The Catcher in the Rye you’ve got there.”

You turn towards the charming voice. Lo-and-behold, it’s the love of your life: the handsome stranger you’ve mentally lived a lifetime with. His beauty is even more profound up close: now you can see that his eyes are a lovely shade of blue. His eyes, haunted by a subtle sadness, draw you in, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You find yourself entranced in his sea-blue current; you could easily drown in his gaze. You attempt to hide your awestruck expression and converse with him like a normal human being. “I agree! I already own a copy though, do I really need a new one?”

“I think we both know the answer is always yes,” he assures.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I'll get it! Thank you for justifying my unnecessary purchase.”

Your words hang in the air, everything going quiet as you wait for the ravishing stranger to introduce himself. The two of you stare in silence at each other, the tension thickening as the seconds pass by. After a few moments, his face flashes in realization—you were waiting for his name.

“I’m Bucky,” he offers with an enchanting smile, extending his hand out to you. You share your name as the two of you shake hands. Your eyes stare down his veiny arm to his ring-studded fingers grasped around yours. You allow yourself to imagine for a few moments how amazing those fingers would feel tracing your arms, tangling your hair, and teasing your inner thigh. Your lustful reverie comes to an abrupt halt at the sight of the book nestled inside the crook of his elbow: The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, the bane of your existence. You scoff with furrowed brows; of course, Mr. Handsome Stranger would be interested in the one book you despise.

“Got something to say there, sweetheart?” he questions with an amused grin.

“Out of all the classic novels in this entire store, that’s the one you chose? The Metamorphosis?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” he jives.

You pause for a second, debating whether it’s worth it to argue with a stranger. The pondering lasts only a few seconds; the exhaustion from your day disintegrates your filter. Besides, you loathe The Metamorphosis.

“What isn’t wrong with it? The dude wakes up thinking he’s an insect? The reader has to sit there throughout the entire book, wondering whether he’s a man or a bug? What the actual fuck? I didn’t appreciate the existential crisis that book gave me at fifteen; if I can help someone else avoid the suffering caused by that monstrosity, I'm going to do my part,” you huff, unamused by the joy Bucky seems to gain from your zealous analysis.

“Wow, what a passionate review! Perez Hilton would be envious of your slander. Okay then, what classic would you recommend instead?”

You cross your arms, expecting him to challenge your response. “The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde.”

“That’s a play,” he counters.

“It’s published as a book; it counts! It’s witty, playful, and has a happy ending, which is the most important point of all. It also doesn’t make you want to pull a Fahrenheit 451 and burn every copy in existence,” you attest.

He steps closer to you, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, sweetheart.”

Great, there he goes again with that freaking pet name; it’s going to be the death of you. He knows your name, you just gave it to him, yet here he is, infuriatingly insisting on calling you sweetheart instead. Stupid pretty boy with his ocean blue eyes and amorous smile.

“That’s exactly the point,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So, why would I want to read something that doesn’t end well? If I’m going to escape this reality for a while, it better be for a happier one.”

“And if it's not?”

“Then I’ll throw the book across the room and make up my own happy ending!”

“Ooh, aggressive,” he tuts. “The owner of this place might not be too happy with you if you’re throwing books all over the place; it’ll scare away the customers.”

“Then it’s a good thing the owner isn’t here,” you interject confidently, knowing full well you have no idea who the owner is.

“Well, that just isn’t true, sweetheart. You’re looking right at him.”

He’s lying—he has to be. Why would a dreamboat like Bucky own a bookstore?

You scoff, “you’re not the owner of this place.”

“I’m not? What makes you say that?” he banters.

“People like you don’t own bookstores!” you exclaim.

“People like me?” he goads, cocking his head to the side. The action erupts butterflies in your stomach.

“Attractive people!” you groan.

“So you think I’m attractive?” he plays, stepping to close the gap between you.

“Psh, no, you wish,” you muster. The heat spreading across your cheeks betrays your bluff.

There are mere inches between the both of you now; you hope he can’t hear your racing heartbeat. You watch his eyes go down from yours to your mouth and back up again. He eyes you with a smirk, his teeth playfully tugging his bottom lip. It takes everything in your power not to give in to his spell.

“I’ve known you for what, five minutes? I don’t go around kissing strangers, Bucky,” you falter, taking a step back from his closeness.

“Then let’s not be strangers, sweetheart. Grab a coffee with me; I know a nice place, not far from here,” he flirts, gesturing to the counter at the back of the store.

“Let me learn more about what goes on in that pretty little head of yours,” he purrs, his breath tickling your cheek.

“Okay, fine. I’ll have a coffee with you,” you surrender.

A bright, honeyed smile dons his face.  

“It better be good, though. Not the stale crap you usually get in the middle of the afternoon.”

“I’d only give you the best, sweetheart,” he winks, extending his right hand. You take it; he gives you a soft squeeze before weaving you through the towering shelves.

Your discussion continues with another passionate book review as he prepares your drink. He’s a sucker for gritty dystopian novels while you gravitate towards sappy romances. He shares his passion for painting as he guides you to the reading nook. The artwork hung on the edges of the bookcases is crafted by him—a detail you hadn’t noticed at first glance. His stunning work features both landscapes and people. He loves to sit in a picturesque landscape and paint for endless hours. Occasionally, he takes his old polaroid as he explores the town, snapping moments between strangers, translating their intimacy to canvas when he gets home.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the reading nook before handing you our steaming cup of joe. You sit with your legs crossed, your hands hugging the mug in your lap. Bucky sits with his leg draped over the side of the bench, his left foot pressing into his right thigh. The conversation shifts topics; the two of you divulge your desires and unfulfilled ambitions. You aren’t sure if it’s the look in his eyes, the sweet cup of joe in your palms, or the aroma of coffee surrounding you, but in his presence, your senses feel wide awake.

Before you know it, the mesmeric moon replaces the sizzling sun, melting away the blistering heat, and the steaming cup of coffee in your hands has long chilled. Bucky’s employee interrupts the blissful rendezvous, informing him that all the closing duties are complete, and he’s headed home for the night.

You stare at your watch in shock—it's five past nine. Where did the time go? You apologize profusely to the poor kid who had to close up alone; he assures you it’s no problem.

A melancholic pit in your stomach forms as you turn back to Bucky. He’s nestled himself into your soul; you don’t want to say farewell to him so soon. He has a sad glint in his eyes; you hope it’s because he’s also dreading the end of this perfect night.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks timidly, his earlier suave demeanor gone from his voice. He stands up in front of you, offering his arm to escort you.

“I’d love that,” you reply with a shy grin, grabbing his arm and hugging it tightly.

In the blink of an eye, you’re in front of your car. You let go of his arm and lean against the trunk. You stare into his eyes, hoping that he can see without the use of words how much you don’t want this moment to end. There’s a few moments of painful silence before Bucky clears his throat.

“So, now that we’re not total strangers, how about that kiss?” he flirts with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” you reply with a bashful smile.

He slowly reaches his hand towards your cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb. He presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure you want to do this? ‘Cause if we do, you might not be able to get rid of me, sweetheart.”

“Yes I do, Bucky,” you giggle.

He grins as he gently presses his pillowy pink lips on yours. The kiss steals all the air from your lungs—his touch sends tingles throughout your body, electrifying your veins. You’re breathless when your lips finally part.

“Let me get your number before I let you go,” Bucky insists. You nod and hand him your phone, unable to form a coherent thought.  The ghost of his lips and fingers trace your figure. You’re barely acquainted with his tender touch, yet you feel naked without it, yearning to once again be within his grasp.

You exchange phones—adding your number and name with a sparkling heart emoji and swiftly passing his phone back before you can change your mind. Bucky snaps a quick selfie for his contact, smirking for the camera. You grin when you see he also put emojis by his name: a beetle and a kissy-face.

He pecks your cheek before opening the car door for you. “Hope to see you around, lovebug.” The new pet name burns your cheeks and erupts butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn’t leave the parking lot until your car disappears completely from his view.

You drive home with thoughts of Bucky swirling in your mind. You send a silent thanks to the universe for bringing this beautiful man into your life. His voice, touch, and smile echo in your thoughts for the remainder of the evening—his presence paving its way through your dreams. You’re falling hard and fast; you only hope he’ll be there to catch you.

tagging a few mutuals who expressed interest in this story🥰please fill out the taglist form if you’d like to be tagged in the next story! 💖

@ritesofreverie @midnightf @certainaesthetic

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #mickey-henry #my fic: you're the best book I ever read #mel's writing