#the fucking thing has been loading for ten minutes

[thedman0310]

New Vegas you raggedy bitch please run

#the fucking thing has been loading for ten minutes #I’ve validated the files #restarted the pc #I dunno man #FNV #new Vegas #fallout new vegas #pc gmaing #why does that tag exist #pc gaming

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You���re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[vivwritesfics]

"I Know"

Peter Parker has the best girlfriend ever

1.1K

Peter Parker x Reader

I've been MIA for the longest time because the inspo just hasn't been there. But I've gotten away from university for a few days, and this is what came from my peaceful time alone

"I'm so sorry, baby," said Peter. He stood on top of a building, watching a bank robbery happening opposite. A bag full of snacks and two pairs of his favourite pyjamas lay discarded beside him, and Peter made a mental note to pick it up later. The wind was biting, but Peter didn’t care. His attention was split evenly between his girlfriend and the bank robbery.

This was not the first time he had flaked on date night, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. He and his girlfriend both knew. But Peter Parker had the most understanding girlfriend in the world.

"It's okay, Pete," she said. Peter could picture her now, snuggled up in her bed, waiting to change into a pair of his pyjamas, with her snack basket filled and her laptop loaded up with a Christmas movie. "Go... save the world."

It wasn't quite saving the world, but she made Peter smile. She always made Peter smile. Y/N was the most understanding person in the world. "I'll be at yours as soon as I can. Don't open the chocolate without me."

After that, Peter had no choice but to hang up. The bank robbery had started to wrap up and Peter had to stop them. He put his phone in his bag, pulled his mask over his face, and swung down to the bank. "You guys have ruined my date night."

“What the fuck?” One of the bank robbers dropped his white bag filled with green notes and swung a bat at Peter.

It was cartoon-y, how these robbers were behaving. The white bags, the notes flying all over the place. Their ski masks weren’t masks at all, but unfolded beanies with the eyeholes cut out. “Wait, can I get a picture? My girlfriend is going to love this.”

***

Y/N’s family loved Peter. Somehow, he’d never been late to dinner with her parents. Either criminals decided to take the day off, to let Peter have his dinner, or for once somebody else was cleaning up the city in his stead.

But not tonight.

“I’ll be maybe ten minutes late,” he said as he swung through the city. His suit was discarded, but his tie was still around his neck.

Y/N had her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she put in a pair of earrings. Dinners like these were a big deal to her parents. The whole family dressed up fancy, all of her sibling’s partners were invited and they had at least three courses. “Pete, babe, it’s fine. I’ll cover you.” And, as she said it, she didn’t sound disappointed at all.

Peter really had the best girlfriend in the world. “Holy shit, I love you,” he said, only just noticing his tie. But it was too late to remove it now. “Please send me the cover story.”

They said their goodbyes (with Y/N begging him to stay safe) and went to do their things. Peter fought the bad guy, managing to keep his rather expensive tie intact. Y/N finished getting dressed for dinner and went downstairs to greet her parents.

Her siblings and their partners were already downstairs, drinks in their hands.

“There she is!” Called her brother as Y/N stepped into the room. He checked his watch and feigned a frown. “Not like that boyfriend of yours to be late, is it?”

With her hands clasped behind her back, Y/N rocked on her heels. “Actually, Peters gonna be late today,” she said, hoping they weren’t going to ask anymore questions.

“That Parker boy is never late,” her father said, “What’s holding him up?”

Before now, Y/N hadn’t thought of an excuse for Peter. She had just hoped they wouldn’t ask, and then he could’ve come up with his own backstory. (Peter had gotten good at that).

“Uhh…His house… caught fire? And his aunt… is in the hospital… with death?” oh yeah no this was not going well. “Oh! And the tire on his bike popped.”

Yes. That was very believable.

But nobody questioned it as Y/N sat beside her sister and her sister’s girlfriend. “He’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes shifted to the floor, which only made everything more believable. She pulled out her phone and sent Peter the cover story, just seconds before the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” She shouted, jumping up.

Racing to the front door, Y/N pulled it open to see Peter stood there, still sorting out his suit. “You are so lucky nobody else answered the door,” she said and buttoned up his shirt correctly. “I sent you over the cover story,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Pulling him into the house, Y/N pushed him towards her father. “Hello, Mr L/N! Sorry, I’m late, my tire burst.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s mother came running out of the kitchen. “Peter, my dear!” She shouted and pulled him in for a hug. “I’m so sorry to hear about May and your house. You can stay here for as long as you need!” She cried, running her fingers through her hair. He looked at Y/N with her brows furrowed. ‘Go with it’, she mimed. “How about we all go and visit May as soon as we’re finished with dinner?”

“Oh! Please, Mrs L/N. That’s not necessary.” Peter pulled away from his girlfriend’s mother and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Can I have a word with you upstairs?” He asked her, and Y/N allowed herself to be pulled up to her bedroom.

As soon as the door was shut Y/N was wrapped around him. “I missed you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Missed me so much you told your family that May was in the hospital?”

“And that your house burnt down,” she said quietly, laying her head on his chest. “I know I said I’d cover for you, but I’m not very good at it, Pete.” Her arms snaked around his middle, sitting beneath his blazer.

Peter’s phone suddenly buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned once he looked at it. “Oh god, what is it?” Asked Y/N, looking up at Peter with wide eyes.

“Baby, I love you but, I’ve got to go. I swear this’ll-”

“It’s okay, Peter, I know.”

Peter kissed her. It was slow, yet oh so intense. One of those kisses that makes you gasp. “I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x female reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker x reader smut #andrew garfield #andrew garfield imagine #spider-man #the amazing spider man

[sillygayrants]

Imagine Eddie making steve play DnD with the gang because Eddie practically begged Steve to go with him.

They’re about ten minutes in, Eddie is trying to be the best DM he can, he’s really trying, honestly, but Steve is so focused on the game and trying to understand the mechanics of it that he’s got his hands playing with his hair and his tongue inadvertently sticking out between his lips sometimes.

And Eddie isn’t really bothered about the game anymore when Steve is man spreading and leaning backwards in his chair to sigh, exposing a little bit of his abs, his ABS for gods sake.

So of course, he wasn’t paying much attention to trying to trip up the gang or set traps anymore when Steve looked like THAT and the next thing he knows, they’ve defeated whatever creature Eddie set out for them, he really can’t remember at this point.

Now steve is suppressing the biggest smile he’s ever seen, but of course when Dustin asks him if he is happy about the win he goes “no biggie, don’t really care” but Eddie can see it in his face.

And because Eddie drove on the way there, Steve drives eddies van back, dropping off the kids and eventually stopping at Eddie’s trailer where he’d parked his own car.

But he walks right into the trailer, using the key Eddie gave him “in case of emergencies” but really he keeps it with him at all times, and settles into the kitchen, opening cupboards to find food for them.

Eddie follows like he would usually and sits up on the counter, watching Steve waddle around for a little bit. “So…”

“So what?” Steve says from behind the freezer door, looking for something resembling food for dinner.

“Did you like it?” Eddie responds.

Steve is quiet for a second before responding back “I was a kinda bored to be honest” and pulls a frozen pizza out of the freezer, shutting the freezer door.

“Steve when you defeated the dragon, you looked like you were about to orgasm” Eddie jokes, earning himself a smack upside the head from a certain frozen pizza.

Steve laughs sarcastically before saying “It was alright, I liked making you nervous.” and placing the pizza into the oven.

… “What?” Eddie wasn’t entirely sure he heard that right.

“You know, whenever I readjusted my seat or leaned back slightly, you hesitated speaking, or you would forget to set a trap, it was actually kind of funny.” Steve said, walking over to Eddie who was still on the countertop looking down at Steve, but somehow felt very small.

“Loads of girls have given me that look you know, If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted to fuck me.”Steve laughs to himself and pulls something out from the cupboard behind eddies head.

Eddie doesn’t respond, he just sits there silently before sliding over and hopping off the counter. “I’m gonna go to my room, you can do whatever, okay? Yeah bye.” And made a beeline straight for his room before an hand was on his arm and spinning him back around to face Steve.

Said Steve has a look of smugness plastered all over his face “You wanna fuck me, Eds?”

The pizza burned.

(P.s. hi lovelies sorry I haven’t been active I have exams at the moment anyway love u )

#steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #i’m obsessed

[samodivaa]

Words don’t trigger him, emotions do

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Anger, resentment and especially, jealousy—those emotions were all he knew while you both spent decades at Hydra.

Warnings- angst, jealously, mental struggles, smut, possessive sex, love bites

Words- 3400

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And his love has its own dark morality when rivalry enters in, when another man dares to flirt with you and Bucky shall show well what he shows best.

“Hello, snowflake" he says "Hope I'm...interrupting”

There is an intonation so bitter and so imperative that the man who you are talking with shallows hard. The words which are set in the air—in themselves they are simple and sweet. But his jealousy, protectiveness are a living thing. Shifting, changing, growing.

"Do you know the man?" he asks politely, blue eyes burning with violence.

There is a natural comorbidity between possessiveness and jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill.

„Yeah, I do,“ you reply and Bucky feels alone in the moment your eyes break contact—and in a fever, among the walls of the bar, he looks around too, a thickening twilight peeps out in his mind.

"Who is he?" he asks in a pleasant but cold voice, now clearly less friendly than before.

„It doesn’t matter“ you smile softly, that sentence is a uttered curse to Bucky’s ears. Immediately, his guard is up.

Bucky is silent for a moment, suffocated by the situation, ringing in his ears, and the heart—it will bust.

The simplicity of your answer spreads as frost, closing off the light of his eyes. His mind starts racing once again, a nameless emotion has nested in Bucky – who is that guy?

Bucky sits on your left side before he leans on the counter next to you, with his metal hand and puts his right one on his tight, closer to his gun strapped there.

You know him, you know that behavior— this yearning to protect, tearing at his insides like hunger and thirst. It is not love. Love is warm and soft, like a bed of leaves. But this is dark, like the shade under a poisonous shrub, and it is hungry. So hungry.

You know its' name—Winter.

You're stuck with him. Not for a few decades, not for centuries. You're tied to him forever. That's why you are good at putting out his flame before it grows—the frame he still carries from the past.

Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, apart from its inconvenience there's even something touching about it—his starless nights eyes—his face, as if it has been a dial cut in impassive stone, the dwindling of life.

You are equipped to handle what he has, both past and present—package deal of both. In other words, you have been assigned a load you can handle.

“Bucky-”

“Let's go home, it’s getting late” he interrupts, in a soft, vicious voice.

“Give me ten minutes”

He feels like a thread has come between you when he hears your answer, tugging, tugging at his heart—so hard, it hurts him.

You glare at each other. He closes his eyes, because there is a petulant woundedness with which he stares back at you.

Neither of you say a word until Bucky moves, leaning back against the counter, and folding his arms over his chest. It takes all his concentration, to keep from ripping out this man’s throat. But Bucky shoves the familiar fury down, to the place where he stifles Winter's power.

“Okay”

He says as he looks over to the man, and wants him to say something mean so he would have an excuse to shoot him. Bucky is something dark and beautiful, in conflict with what he shows to the world and what he truly feels inside, it is hard to control it.

A worry deep in you stir, but you ignore it for now, pushing it down as best you can with the distraction of music and whiskey.

You fully turn to the man and all Bucky wants is your full attention. He wants your gaze to stay fixed on him, only him. He wants to stare into those beautiful eyes for as long as he lives.

Every avalanche begins with the movement of a single snowflake, and you are this Snowflake tonight.

When the ten minute mark hits you hear a quiet screeching sound—he has carved a small heart on the counter with his index metal finger—you can’t believe how jealousy has him gagging, his blue eyes are clouded before he lowers his gaze to the floor.

Snow is super soft, bottomless and amazingly light, yet supportive—until you take a wrong turn and feel every crystal reacting within your soul, suffocating you. Bucky has lost himself in the emotional storm: it takes so little this time, to put fuel in his cynical heart.

“Bucky…” you whisper and your eyes meet, his actual humanity can’t seem to triumph over the rage and jealousy this time, something you hardly imagine in your wildest dreams.

And this is the secret you both share—the kind you don't dare to let out—Words don't trigger him, but emotions do. You can’t leave them unnoticed, unattended and unsolved.

“Let's head home”

Your language has been lost for so long at Hydra. But not the gestures. It is almost comforting, this mutual acceptance of understanding each other without the need for words.

He maintains his silence, but he slowly gets up—he doesn’t look back, he knows you are following him closely. Of course you do, but you think about what has just happened

While you were looking into his eyes, there were fragments of his inner struggle that were deeply repressed—he always tries to repress the past. It’s hard to distinguish if they were buried inside because dealing with them was such dirty work, or if he was ashamed to voice them.

The truth is that he would rather dig his own heart out, with a knife, than admit it. A while ago he let you know that it's hard to control certain emotions—but he didn’t want to throw his intimacy in front of you, especially when he cares.

But nothing stays secret forever

You are trying to heal too, but, finally, there are things which he is afraid to divulge even to himself—he needs you, he needs your reassurance, he feels like someone will snatch you from his hands, damn his split personalities and untrustworthy habits from the past, but he can’t help it, it scares him.

You are both unearthed by deception, torture, brainwashing, whose essence was shrouded by Hydra—your own father naming the Winter Soldier program after his own daughter, you, stringing you with Bucky together—the yearning theme of your life.

After you escaped Hydra, you went your separate ways until he came back to you, searching for someone who understands him.

That was a year ago.

The more he thinks about it, the more he wants you, the more my desire rises and swells—

“Bucky” He shakes his head in exasperation, not stopping as he climbs the stairs to your shared apartment, aiming for the door, but he can’t stay with you, not when he is not fully himself “Bucky, stop, talk to me”

You have known him for so long, you can see the pride through his words, the truth through his silence, and the anger through his smile.

Always.

“Soldat“  he turns to you, perusing your body as he comes to stand in front of you, his abysses as deep as those of love, finally meet yours.

That realization takes about a nanosecond to register in Bucky’s brain before the real important information comes to the forefront—you’ve noticed.

He lowers his head toward you, so you could feel his breath warm against your skin, your mouths only inches apart

“Why did you call me that?”

He has no answer nor idea, just a never-ending list of questions, he is searching for a loophole that increasingly feels like a noose—he denies it, he tries to—you are not entitled to exposing him like that.

How hollow is it for him to have no secrets left—Bucky's love gives, and Soldat's lust takes.

His gaze, improper, is the most sensual thing he can have done at this moment, and it jolts your heart into a strange rhythm as you speak

“Tell me, how can I help?” You put your hands on his chest, your eyes still locked and an unwelcome sensation pierces you.

“You already know” he says thoughtfully as his cool gaze devours you “snezinka” (snowflake) and his lusty grin when he says that, it's sinful—and pleasurable.

“There is nothing to worry about. Do whatever you want to make yourself feel better” All you want to do is make him feel better, to drown his worries in your embrace.

Both shame and worry drown themselves in the dark eyes that stare back at him.

You.

Only you.

Bucky dreads this power you have over him.

Everything you say is exceedingly obvious, and undoubtedly true, but he feels that something more obscure, more frightening lurks in the back of your mind.

You don’t halt the hands he lays on your waist when he pushes you, backing you into the door.

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1968–1969, Zhao Jianmin Spy Case

„That is going to be mass murder, send them together.“

This mission is a long, never-ending massacre, it never ends.

He is lost in your eyes, it’s eating him alive.

Corpses fill the floor, the sight of gore is peaceful in your corrupted existence. He becomes obsessed in this moment of solitude with you, he has the need to touch you and you respond with a kiss, blood all over your face.

Your wretched fate is shared, your need for touch also.

Winter’s lust betrays him as he pushes you against the wall, feasting on your lips and neck, his hands running up and down your back.

“Relax, Winter” you giggle as you gently press your fingers into his shoulders, forcing him to break the kiss as he looms over you- waiting with a predatory grin.

„I need you, Samodiva“ he slurs, eyebrows furrowed as he glances up at you. His trembling fingers touch the strings in vain, wanting to find the right notes from the fading memory, Soldat wants his soul to vibrate again; with lust, with love.

He knows you feel his arousal, your closeness causing him to grow hard, inhaling sharply, enjoying the sensations you are eliciting in him.

“I need you, too” you finally answer without faltering.

This is all Soldat needs to hear - his tongue flicking lightly over your neck once again, tracing the skin slowly, eliciting a moan from your lips, bodies acting on instinct.

A soft squeak escapes your puffy lips, the tension building up in your body too fast, too soon. Winter puts his hands around your waist, your pants already unbuckled, surrendered to him.

He wastes no time, there's no time left… his hands suddenly drop to his own pants, popping the button open and then pulling down the zipper.

The feeling of your insides drains all of his self power to not come on the first trust, he moves at an excruciating slowly pace, fucking you into the bloodstained walls, there is a glimpse of human nature when you fill the room with moans.

„I am yours,“ he whispers, his words sending a series of chills through her.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

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“1968, do you remember?“ he groans as he brushes his mouth against your cheek. The plea in his tone floods your veins with a whole different form of power “Just say no, snezinka-”

“This is exactly what I want“ you counter. As you arch your back, pressing the tips of your breasts against his chest, closing your eyes at the whisper of a kiss, at the hunger that ravages inside you.

He leans down more, his mouth only inches from yours. “Fuck,” the barely leashes growl of his voice rumbles up through his chest, and every nerve ending in your body flares to life.

Bucky loves seeing you pinned to the door—his control balancing precariously on the point of a knife. He tightens his hands holding you even closer, until your chest is pressed against his own, you can feel his hard cock pressing between your bodies.

All he needs is one push.

And you are about to shamelessly shove.

“Come on, I can take it” you tilt your head up to his and draw his bottom lip between yours, sucking before gently nipping him with your teeth. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay” He speaks against your throat and finishes one languorous stroke up the column of your neck.

It breaches something within him, and he gives in.

Finally, mouths collides, and the kiss is hot and hard—it invades his body, abolishing any constraints and bringing to life the desire for you. It grounds him firmly in the moment and drags his body in it, too—Bucky wants to be the only thing touching you, the only thing that touches you ever again. He is kissing the shell of your ear, nipping at it gently and then soothing the nips with soft kisses.

Rage. Lust. Jealousy. Past. Preset. Every day is a reminder of how nothing stays the same, every day an exercise in variability, resilience, understating and trust.

You love the seasons, but, you must admit—at the risk of offending the others—Winter is your very favorite one. What a beautiful madness, to explore the darkness in his old self and find joy in the unearthing of such a wicked past.

He craves you, he kisses you again.

When your mouth touches his, it is like a blade glancing off metal—the darkness inside him briefly lights up with violence and rage before the emptiness comes flooding in like a black lake—you see it in his eyes.

“Let’s get inside '' he hears your whisper and he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers. He might be lust-intoxicated, but he always cares.

Tonight, you have successfully deflected his attention from the gloomy thoughts and the contemplation of his past—his lust rushes, but his love makes him wait.

His love lasted for decades—will last for a lifetime.

Awash with trepidation, you two manage to get into the apartment, but the moment you lock the door—your back is against the wall again.

All those desires Bucky has felt in passing have culminated, growing deeper, hungrier, darker—he can do whatever he wants with you.

That through alone causes trouble below his belt.

He pulls his shirt over his head, the sight of his sculpted muscles, crisscrossed with countless scars. They have the strange power to remind you both that the past is real.

Bucky’s hands languidly roam the curves and valleys of your body as his kisses became sensual, slow and deep. There is such a luster in his eyes that you have to look away, but when you look back at him, his gaze hasn’t moved, still focused on your face.

Then he shifts his mouth to your neck for a hard love-bite that makes you cry out— the need to possess you, to claim you, he never did that before.

But even though you feel his erection stir as you press your hips against his, he doesn't attempt to resume the lovemaking in full, he catches you around your slender waist again and brings you close to whisper teasingly in your ear

“Ты - моя, слышишь?”

You begin to feel a familiar wetness form between your legs.

“Bucky,” you call out, impatient with desire.

But that exact position triggers so much delight, of the heated memory—he has all the time in the world, not as the last time.

He kisses you like he has forgotten how your mouth tastes—with a curious childish delight, kisses like wants to take you dancing.

As you pull apart, you remove your own shirt and his teeth scraping down the skin of your neck, his hands sliding around back to remove your bra, tossing it aside.

His right hand makes its way up, passing over a mark left by a bullet—your cheeks heat, and your breath hitches, but you can’t look away, you follow his hand with your eyes.

“I was not there when you got shot” he says as his fingertip skims the top of your breasts “When was that?” he uses the vibranium arm to lift one of the long locks of your hair to his lips and inhales the scent.

“It doesn’t matter”

And maybe you are right, but it stands as a reminder yet again of how you too escaped death's touch before. It was almost...normal for you back then.

Bucky takes a breast into his mouth to suck at it vigorously as you shiver in his grasp, the metal hand sides down to your waist to keep you against the wall.

You let out a small moan as you feel his hardness tighten and press even more insistently against you.

You worm your hands between your bodies, opening his jeans, freeing his length from the confines of his boxer-briefs, then reaching in to caress it and he burying his face in your neck to stifle his groan.

Bucky shudders when when you take him in your hand, stroking him painfully slowly. He allows it for several moments before hiking up the skirt of your dress to quickly tear your damp underwear.

He rubs a hand down your leg, fingers curling behind your knee and pulls it to his hip.

You instinctively jump, he catches you, abandoning his attempts of fingering you in favor of grabbing your hips, and you moan as you wrap your legs around his waist.

He loves you.

He loves you because nature wills it as it did for decades.

Because you are already long united by the past.

The bare flesh on every part of you always belonged to him, the scent emitting from your skin is his—he loves you, but he doesn't dare tell you that.

You have become Bucky’s favorite hiding place over the past year, the place he put every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, you keep him safe.

You have possessed him—and you never knew it.

He has been dependent on exactly how close he can have you next to him, how long he can get to stay at your apartment—making various excuses every time until you suggested to him to move in with you two months ago.

“Bucky,”

you tighten your legs around his waist, urging him to continue, running your hands over his shoulders.

Your voice pulls him out of what was ravaging in his mind, all those thoughts, but then he kisses as he roughly inserted his cock with no warning, you let out a surprised gasp as his forehead falls to your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips and pressing you against the wall more firmly when he bottoms out, moaning shamelessly at the feeling of your body against him.

You are made for him, made for fucking.

“I love biting you, I need it” his voice is brittle, not saying anything else.

You stare like he is something you can’t comprehend, something unexpected – willingly admitting.

Your fingers thread gently through his hair and you can’t help, but hang your jaw in bewilderment at the sight before—he is falling apart from the need to claim you, to reach the white-hot ecstasy. 

You have never seen him like that.

He bites his way along your jaw to the base of your throat. His mouth is hard and punishing, lathering your skin with marks—ferocity burns in his gaze promising something primal—thrusting into you wildly, trying to elongate your pleasure for as long as possible, but suddenly he is choking on moans as waves of climatic bliss are sent throughout his body.

This is about him, not you, this is what he needs.

This night you learn about his jealousy, it has you starving to learn more about this side of him. A new hunger that you know you will satisfy only with time.

His steel blue eyes hide a nearly irresistible urge to claim you—it’s hard for Bucky to control it when the incurable desolation of Winter exaggerates in displaying old emotions.

#BARKING ON MY KNEES FOR HIM #bucky x ex!asset reader #smut and feels #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x oc #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x you #bucky angst #ws!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter soldier fanfiction #marvel x reader #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x snezana kabakov

[be-my-sunrise]

8:25pm

pairings: churchboy!mark x fem!reader

genre: smut, minors pls dni

word count: 720

warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, teasing, brat taming(kinda?), hair pulling, edging, creampie

The day started off quite normal. Although you and Mark slept through the alarm, both of you still made it in time to church for Sunday Service. Most of the seats were taken by the time you both got there, so you had to sit in the back. 

It has only been ten minutes since the pastor started preaching, and you were already distracted. You might look like you're paying attention, but you're actually busy replaying the events from last night in your head. Mark had just returned from his business trip yesterday, so the two of you spent the whole night getting steamy in bed. The sex after his business trips–or whenever both of you have to spend some time apart–is always mind-blowing. Not that it's bad before, but all the waiting and anticipation just make it even better. There's one more thing that also leads to mind-blowing sex: when you're acting like a brat.

You didn't want to do this, but the thrill of doing such sinful actions in a holy place aroused you. You need Mark right now. You started teasing Mark by placing a hand on his thigh, slowly inching closer to his crotch. Mark shrugged it off at first, but then he was kind of pissed when your fingers kept 'accidentally' brushing over his cock. 

Everything after that happened so quickly, and now here you are, chest pressed against the wall inside one of the stalls in a women's bathroom, moaning as Mark takes you from behind. You hiss when Mark yanks your hair back, his hot breath hitting your neck.

"I told you to behave, but you decided to be a brat instead." He said in a low voice. "Last night wasn't enough for you?"

"N-no.."

"No? How pathetic, you can't even last ten minutes without my cock inside you. What would God think about that, hm?"

A loud moan escapes your lips as Mark slams his hips harder against yours, pushing his cock deeper. He covers your mouth with his other hand to muffle your moans.

"Quiet, angel. Or is that what you want, hm? You want the people outside to hear how good I'm making you feel?"

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he hits your sweet spot, making you clench around his cock.

"Fuck–do that again." He throws his head back and screws his eyes shut as you clench once again. 

"Don't even think about cumming, I know you're close. Hold it or I won't let you cum at all."

Not long after, you feel Mark's cock twitch before spilling thick ropes of cum inside you. He lets out a deep growl as he fills you up with his load, the warmth making you hum in pleasure. Mark holds you close, steadying your body when your knees buckle underneath you.

Your muscles go tense as you're reaching your climax, lips tucked between your teeth to bite back a moan. Mark pulls out abruptly just when you're about to cum. You whine at the sudden emptiness, pussy clenching around nothing.

"No! Mark, please–"

"Brats like you don't get to cum."

Mark gives your ass a spank, earning a yelp from you. He fixes your panties before his cum drips out and pulls your dress down. You press your thighs together, letting out a choked sob knowing it won't be enough to give you the relief you wanted. Mark tucks his cock back inside his pants and gives you a peck on your cheek.

"Fix your hair, I'm going back outside."

After Mark leaves, you take a look at your reflection in the mirror. With the messy hair, smudged mascara, and smeared lipstick? Yeah, people would definitely know you just had your insides rearranged. 

Once you feel like you look decent enough, you go back outside and find Mark in your seats. You plop down next to him and he gives you a sweet smile, as if he wasn't just balls deep inside you a few minutes ago. Mark puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to whisper in your ear.

"Wait 'til we get home. I'm not finished with you."

His words go straight to your pussy. Excitement bubbles in your chest, fully aware that your plan had worked. 

"You're in for a long night, angel."

a/n: i've had this drabble idea on my notes for so long, and i figured it's time for it to see the light of day. it's supposed to be short, but i kinda got carried away👀 thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!<3

#be-my-sunrise #thea's writings #thea's drabbles #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct imagines #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #mark x reader #mark lee x reader #nct 127 smut #nct 127 imagines

[dkisms]

Warrior

Wonwoo x afab!reader /// enemies to lovers /// 5k words /// smut

You’ve hated Wonwoo’s guts for most of your esports career. He’s always targeted you, and you’ve had enough. 

      If one person on planet Earth hates Jeon Wonwoo, it’s you. In fact, that’s how you feel right now, with the stupid little grin on his stupid face looking at you from across the stage, brow arched at you. He’s teasing you for sure, and the bright red ‘LOSE’ on the stage above you does absolutely nothing to change that.

      You honestly had no idea when Wonwoo started to act like this. As a woman on an esports team for League, you’ve always been careful of every move you’ve made. Two years ago, you joined ASTAR, much to the disappointment of many in the world. In fact, Wonwoo had been kind to you previously, going on stream many times to express how women belonged in the sport, and how he was excited to game with you.

At least, that was what you thought. 

      Now, every single time you play, either practice or in comp, your screen stains black and white, now matter what you do. Every move? Wonwoo’s there. Switch to top? So is he. At this point, even your team starts to feel bad for you. In any regular match against any other team, no one can beat your Seraphine (or fiddlesticks, if feeling frisky). 

      Your team captain gets up before you, patting your head. As much as it seems comforting, the steam coming from your ears and the blood boiling in your veins has yet to cease. You exhale loudly, getting up to follow your team. The next ten minutes go by in a blur, with the manager asking the team about the matches while heading to the bus, barely a blink coming from your face. 

      Even when you got to your base, all you could do was trudge to your dorm, and get in bed, wallowing in silence. The notification you got on your phone made you feel even worse, seeing your teammates go to stream and talk about the matches. To them, it wasn’t a bad loss, with Wonwoo’s team, JACKL, being number one in the country, and the easy contender to worlds, but it didn’t make the loss any easier.

      Your phone dinged with a text from your friend. ‘He’s talking about you.’ Was all it read, and it took everything in your soul to not throw the phone across the room, opting to open Wonwoo’s stream instead.

“We don’t bash other teams.” Was the only thing you heard as the stream loaded out of the advertisement, Wonwoo spinning back and forth on his chair as he read his comments.

“Are they as good as my team? No. JACKL is number one for a reason right now. However, they’re one of the best teams I’ve played against in years. Their mid showed mine how you can’t screw around in a match and expect them to not crush you into the dirt. My support had to pretty much solo heal them. Not great, but he’s gonna work on it.”

      Wonwoo rolled his eyes, brushing his newly silver hair out of his face. He chuckled at a few comments that came in, eyeing one from an international fan.

“Yes, I did go after their support. They rely on her too much on bot lane, and can’t protect her. If they leave her open, it’s my job to go after-”

      You killed the stream immediately after, the familiar anger coming back out. ‘Fuck Jeon Wonwoo, and fuck his team,’ you thought, throwing your phone onto the bed, and heading over to your computer, turning it on. As much as bed therapy helps, the fury in your bones could only be solved by crushing as many people as physically possible in the game, and enjoying the cheez-its you had left. Unfortunately for you, the stupid game hates you, and you nearly just decided to evaporate from the planet entirely seeing your team.

JAKCL_EveryWonwoo was on your team.

Jeon Wonwoo was on your fucking team!

      It seems he noticed as well, as the chat started to roll through his messages at an alarming rate. 

‘Boba???? ASTAR_BobA???’

‘Good to see you again, BobA!’

‘Are you my support??? This is crazy’

‘Yes, I’m your support. Now hurry and pick’ You wrote back, cooling down. The game loaded in, and you picked the route farthest away from Wonwoo. If you had to play with him, you refused to be near him only if necessary, and maybe let him die a couple times. Maybe.

     As much as you hated Wonwoo, he was fucking good. Way too good at this damn game, with the amount of times he saved your ass. The bot lane was pretty much useless, leading you to have to take over, and he pretty much took over the south side of the jungle with you, killing as many as he could. The pretty 15/2/18 was growing by the second on your leaderboard, and his 28/6/13 made the two of you look like you were dancing with each other on the field as you finished the match, a ghost of a grin on your face. It was quickly removed, however, when you got a message outside of the match. 

JACKL_EveryWonwoo has sent you an invitation. 

     Against every bone in your body screaming at you not to accept, you had to. What better way to learn how he plays than to play with him? Right? You even checked, he’s not streaming. You let out a sigh, making sure your headset mic was working, and joined the group. 

“I wasn’t too sure you’d accept.” Wonwoo teased, the grin in his voice easily apparent. 

“Had to get my mic.” You said, watching him change to a casual lobby.  

“Mmm,” He said, hitting the queue. “You did good today.” 

“Sure,” You said, clear in your voice that you didn’t want to talk about it. “So, why invite me?” 

“I’m trying to show you that your team is taking advantage of you.” Wonwoo said, picking his character with you, and choosing to go bot lane. 

“Listen, I don’t need you bashing my team, okay? We did what we could.” You snapped. 

“I’m not bashing them. Yet. But I promise, you’re worth more than you think.” He said, shutting up as the game started. 

     While Wonwoo wasn’t… great at bot lane, he definitely kept up. In fact, he was shockingly right about your team. He was taking bullets and arrows with every match you played, and for hours, had you questioning your team’s plays. At four A.M., when he ended the matches, he sat with you in silence as you looked over match replays. 

“Listen, don’t take it to heart. Just understand you might have to rework some stuff. I know your coach is retiring, so next year, you can work with the new one to find out about plays, okay?” He said. 

“Yeah,” you said, voice dry. “I’m hopping off. Have a good night.” 

“Night.” 

——///——

     You groaned at the buzzing of your phone, reaching over to grab it, and rubbing your eyes. The yell you let out seeing the 250+ notifications decorating your screen could have woken up anyone sleeping. JACKL_EveryWonwoo follows you, tagged you in a video, tagged you in a picture… the notifications kept going late into the morning, clearly after you had fallen asleep. The first was a picture of your characters emoting, one you had sent to him as a joke. Every video after that was VOD’s of every match you had, and the comments were endless. 

‘She’s actually so good. Does her team just suck?’

‘He works well with her. If I was JACKL, I’d be calculating offers.’

‘I knew he was going after her for a reason. Man’s knew she held the team together’

     As much as you could keep reading the comments to inflate your ego, you were NOT excited for the upcoming PR nightmare, especially with the lineups for the upcoming tournament to be announced this week. Knowing the industry, your team would be out in seconds with them Matching ASTAR and JACKL. 

     Your phone ringing broke you from your spiraling anxiety, with your friend’s picture on screen. You pressed the accept button, only for a piercing scream to nearly blow your ear drums. 

“What. The. Fuck?!” Avia shrieked. “Why are you all over his Twitter?! I thought you hated him!”

“I do,” You said, exasperated. “He wanted to show me my team sucked at protecting me when I was vital to the lineup. He did.”

“I know, ASTAR is getting lamblasted on every media site, it’s hilarious. Your teammates are… trying to defend themselves,” She said, as you heard a knock on the door. 

     You ended the call, and opened your door to see your manager, who requested a statement about the play from the previous game. After a quick tweet, most of the internet was cooling off. 

“So, we have a practice match,” Your manager said, pulling out a clipboard, as he walked with you downstairs to the rest of the group, already playing. “JACKL.” 

     You turned, startled, pausing before you sat down. “Is that really okay? After the Twitter BS?” 

“We have no choice. We planned this weeks ago,” the manager said, and you just sat quietly, while they set up the custom matches. 

     At the start of the match, you knew it was going to be horrible. If your team was a little turned around during the first tournament, then this was like a tornado going off. In fact, it pissed you off more when Wonwoo immediately killed you. Actually, you barely remember a time you were alive, if any. At the end of the match, you were so pissed off, you shut yourself into your own room, pissed.

—-///—-

     The moment the tournament matchups were announced a few days later, the stress in your body melted. Thankfully, JACKL were in the other side of the bracket, arguably harder than yours. Thankfully, this seemed to have also motivated your team, and within a few practice matches, they were back in order. 

“Wake up!” The manager called, hopping onto the bus. “First match of the playoffs. I didn’t want to talk about this here, but I believe this is the best place for it. Listen… the company is gonna have to make changes if we don’t win. They don’t know if they want to keep everyone, or if they want to dissolve. Either way, you’ll be contacted shortly about your contract.” He said, clearing his throat. 

“Seriously?!” Her mid laner said. “Dude- I can’t fucking believe this shit.”

     The rest of the drive was relative silence from the group. Many wondered where they’d go, and you were no exception. The skin around your nails was raw by the the time you got to your locker room, filled with an ice cold fear of your future. The manager tried to comfort everyone as much as he could, up until your team took the stage. 

     The ice hardened into a lump in your stomach, one made even worse as you looked around at the crowd. Signs were decorating the audience, and you nearly choked on your own spit, seeing JACKL front row.

“Why the fuck are they here?” The top lane called over the headsets, your team agreeing. 

“No fucking clue,” You said. “Watching us, I guess? To be fair, the news of a team revamp got put out. Maybe seeing if they can steal anyone.” 

     The midlaner just nodded in response, as the signal for the match to start was activated, and bans were chosen quickly. 

“Going Senna,” you called, setting up a protect strategy. 

     The game was one of the longest you’ve had, knowing how intense team emotions were. After the first victory round, you ran up and down the hall stairs to gain some energy, and the second match was a breeze. Against your wishes, however, after your matches, you were stuck front row watching JACKL. 

“They’re fucking good,” Your manager said, eyeing the plays. It was annoying, and to be honest, seemed a little showy. 

      At the end of the first match, the smirk Wonwoo gave you was enough to make you glare, knowing exactly what he was playing at. He was showing off at this point, and trying to get your attention. With the amount of times he had looked over in your direction, you were starting to get pissed off, and the manager was starting to notice. 

“You really made him mad, hm? Play a practice match or something?”

“No. He’s fucking irritating, though.” You said, and your coach perked up. 

“It reminds me of my neighbor’s kid. Idiot thought being an ass was his way of flirting. Y’know, messing with your crush…?” He trailed off, seeing your face. “Nevermind.”

“Don’t even,” You said, getting up. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

      As you wandered into the player halls, after refusing to use the public restroom seeing the lines, you were sharply stopped by Jeon Wonwoo running into you.

“Ah, the golden girl! I wanted to see you today.” He said, a grin lighting up his face. 

“Can I help you?” You asked, with pursed lips. 

“Yeah. You see my match? It was pretty fucking good.” He said, teasing. “Y’know, if you joined my team, you’d get the same treatment. Princess and all.”

      Your eyes narrowed as you scoffed. “As if, Jeon Wonwoo. Let me be straight with you. I don’t like you. You bash my time, try to steal me from my group, and post matches without my permission, which, mind you, had audio. If I said anything iffy, it would be a PR nightmare. Not only that, but it already was! My team had to make a statement twice. Now, I don’t know why the hell you keep messing with me, but I’ve had enough, seriously. I’m unable to do my job in any sense of the word. I know my teammates aren’t doing great, they’re at retirement age and are injured half the time, but I don’t want to hear about it. Enough.” You snapped, finally feeling some weight off your chest. All Wonwoo could do was stand silently, swallowing roughly at the words, as you sped walked off in another direction, away from him.

—-////—-

     A week later, you finished your second match. To be honest, your conversation with Wonwoo had lit a fire, making you push to prove your team wasn’t useless, in anyone’s eyes. You dropped your headset onto the table, quickly exiting the stage, not wanting to talk to anyone, until you were stopped by the manager, and another woman. 

“Hi. I’m Sasha, I work for ASTAR’s main offices. I wanted to talk to you about your work on the team.” She said, and the both of you quickly headed into a small meeting room.

“Now, I understand you’ve played with us for a year, at most. Unfortunately, you’ve seen us quite vulnerable this year,” She said, laughing. “I’ll be honest with you. Your bottom laner and jungler are retiring, and I’m only resigning you and the mid laner, if you’re willing. I already have next year’s team set, and contracts sent out for future prospects. I’m willing to offer you a salary increase, if you’ll have it.”

“I’d love to rejoin.” You said, and she quickly slid a contract, letting you read over it. “I’ve sent it to the company’s lawyers, so you can sign within the week. We won’t announce it until after the tournament ends.”

“Yes ma’am,” You said, smiling at the paper. 

At least Jeon Wonwoo can’t fuck this up.

—-////—-

      Two weeks later, you sat in the locker room, biting your nails, watching a random band play on the tv before the tournament final was to go. Your team had taken the cake on the left side of the bracket, but that left you with only one team left to go, and you weren’t sure if you even had a chance.

JACKL.

      You took a deep breath, centering yourself. You were oddly calm going into it, knowing you still had a future with the team, but were still stressed. As you took a final sip of your drink, you headed to the stage, only to be met with Wonwoo’s piercing eyes, and a shit eating grin. 

     Well, fuck. There goes your screen time, was all you could think, scowling at him, and opting to set up. The keyboard glowed as you clicked away, checking the mouse, and remained silent as the announcers droned on about the game, and every playstyle, the crowd roaring at the game. You picked your character after the bans, quickly making it onto the field, and the bottom lane. 

“We gotta be careful this round,” You said, moving back and forth. “They’re heavy on movement. If you see something, say something.”

“Got it,” Your midlaner said, as the game quickly began. 

      As the game stretched out, Wonwoo was noticeably gone. Before you could even note he must have listened to you, your screen turned gray, and you looked to see Wonwoo had killed you. Looking over to him across the stage, he didn’t return your stare, only smiling at the game, as you huffed. 

      The first match carried deep into a match against the dragons, but as much as you hoped you could keep up, Wonwoo stole nearly every dragon on the field, leading your team to play a losing game of catch up, until the match ended. 1-0 rang out on every screen as the crowd cheered for the other team, and you quickly headed off stage to recoup with your team.

      The second match was a turnover, however, as your toplane deployed a new strategy of killing Wonwoo from a distance before he could ever get to you, leading your group to come out on top in this match, and for you to grin brightly.

“One left, boys!” You called, high fiving your team, and sticking your tongue out at Wonwoo, who could only shake his head at your antics.

      The arena darkened with lights, as you sat down at your computer. The technology around you glowed with light, and your fingers almost felt as if they were pulsing with energy, as you made your final round bans and picks. 

      As you started the round, you opted to play as safe as possible in the start, gaining money. At one point, you were shocked, as you managed to kill Wonwoo, who eyed you from across the arena, daring you to try again. Again, you did.

      If when you played together previously, it looked like dancing, this looked like war. You didn’t even care about the majority of the others, knowing they’d be fine, instead opting to go after the star player on the team. You and your bot lane pushed against Wonwoo, quickly taking him down time after time, until the first dragon appeared, and your own jungler lost it to their mid lane.

      Around this time, you were positive the game was over. Wonwoo quickly turned the match on your head, giving back everything you were given, and then some. The match was going downhill, and nothing could stop them, as they approached your base, the familiar black and white screen turning red, as you lost the final match. 

      You let out a shaky breath, watching JACKL jump around in victory, and heading over to give you all a handshake, and your team quickly exited the stage, heading back to the locker room. A few members quickly left, but you opted to take a few interviews about your team, to help your fans stay calmer, promising victory next year. 

      After what felt like an eternity of interviews and pictures, you notice quite a few members of JACKL as they greet you, heading back home to their friends and family. You said goodbye to the others in your team, returning to the quiet locker room to grab your bag, only turning around at the sound of the door softly closing, seeing Wonwoo.

“Congrats,” You said, honestly. “As fucking annoying as it is to not be able to play much, you did your best.”

“Thank you.” Wonwoo said. 

“But seriously? Pretty fucking annoying to be killed all the time. Don’t do it again next year.” You said, heading to the door, only for him to block it right in front of you.

“I know it’s annoying. Got a little feel of it today from you, to be honest.”

“Then why the hell do you do it so much?” You asked, exasperated.

“Honestly?” Wonwoo said, eyes scanning your face, the silence growing. “You’re really fucking hot when you’re pissed off.”

“I’m… sorry?” You asked, eyes blinking at him, bag falling off your shoulder.

      Wonwoo moved closer to you, making you back up against the door. He let out a soft sigh, scanning your face, as he leaned in towards you.

“The first match I played against you, your teammate got you killed. I saw you curse him out over and over, and the angrier you got, I liked it,” he said, fixing your hair. “So, ever since then, I couldn’t help but piss you off.”

“Are- are you serious? You have to be joki-” You were cut off as Wonwoo kissed you quickly to shut you up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was joking.” He said, ears red.

      For a second, everything clicked into place. The first match you ever had with JACKL should have been a tell from the beginning. Your bot lane had made a stupid decision, not checking the grass next to you before letting you go in, and had instantly got you and him killed. You had been pissed beyond belief after he had promised he checked everything, and you had reamed him out for an hour over it during and after the game. Wonwoo had been watching you, in shock, and you thought he was being annoying when he killed you again, and suddenly started killing you every chance he got.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t being a dick.

No, it turns out he was just horny.

      Something in your brain fizzled out, and you honestly couldn’t think anymore, as you reached up behind his neck, pulling him back down to meet your lips. Wonwoo tasted like the stupidly sweet lollipops he always ate before a match, and always used to tease you with. You supposed they held a different meaning to you, now, as his tongue licked your lips to kiss you deeper. His hands pulled your waist closer, dangerously close to your ass.

      You weren’t sure how much time had passed before he had completely given in to grab your ass, muttering for you to jump. You hopped straight up, and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried the two of you from the doorway over to the couch on the other side of the room, dumping the two of you onto it. 

“Hey,” Wonwoo said, hands on your hips, looking more at your lips than your eyes. “If you want to stop here, I’ll get it. But you’ve gotta let me know now.”

“Jeon Wonwoo, if you stop now, I’ll actually hate you for the rest of my life.” You said, and Wonwoo laughed, reaching up to take off his glasses, and setting them on a nearby table, before leaning down to kiss you again. 

     The grip on your thighs felt like fire, and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper as he moved to attach his lips to your neck, sucking a spot where your jaw meets your neck. You felt painfully aware of the heat growing in your stomach, letting your fingers move to his hair to lightly tug, keeping yourself grounded. 

     Wonwoo’s hips pressed into yours, and his fingers moved from your hips up your shirt. You lifted up your back as he yanked your shirt off, leaning back to take his off. You oogled him for a good minute, opting to run your fingers down his abs. 

“Enjoying the view?” Wonwoo teased, and you nodded, playfully licking your lips.

 “Who said video game nerds can’t be fit?” You teased. 

      He chose to ignore your comments, instead moving to remove your bra, and tossing it somewhere else in the room.

“Good thing I locked the fucking door.” He said, mouth moving to kiss down your neck, to your chest.

      The moment his lips met your nipple, you let out a breathy moan. His hand met the waistband of your shorts, and he gave you a second before moving further, hand reaching to cover your mound. 

“Tell me to stop if you don’t like it.” He said, and seconds later, his fingers were plunging into your core.

      The two fingers within you felt like heaven, while his thumb moved in circular ministrations along your sensitive bud. The heat grew in your belly with every movement, and Wonwoo was forced to cover your mouth.

“Listen, I’m all for you being loud any other time, but I don’t want to get caught.” Wonwoo said. “Be quiet, or I’ll have to quiet you.” He warned, and you nodded.

      The fogginess in your brain grew, and heat coiled in your belly, letting out a warning whimper to Wonwoo, who quickly removed his hand, licking at his fingers. You would’ve thought that was the hottest thing ever, except for the empty feeling in your belly making you irritated instead. 

“What the fuck, Wonwoo.” You said, irritated.

“I’ll let you come on my fingers any day, but I’d rather the first time you do be with me in you.” He said, and your face reddened at the raunchy statement coming from his lips.

      Instead of letting you say anything, Wonwoo lifted your hips to remove your shorts and underwear in one fell swoop, eyeing your soaked core, as he removed the rest of his clothes.

“Hate me this, hate me that, but you’re soaked,” Wonwoo teased, pulling your hips closer to his. “Last time to back out, mortal enemy.”

“Wonwoo, please,” You said, long past annoyed, and more desperate to come. “I will find anyone in this building if you don’t fuck me now.”

     His eyes glinted at the challenge, and slowly pushed into your core. He let out a groan as he bottomed out, feeling you pulse around him. Once you gave the go ahead, Wonwoo began his slow movements in and out of your core, the sounds you made egging him on.

“Wonwoo, deeper, please.” You begged.

Wonwoo obliged to your begging, shifting your hips to hit deeper, and pulling you into a deep kiss to keep you quiet.

 “Wonwoo, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” You begged in his ear.

      The breathy moans in your ear weren’t doing anything to help the heat in your core, and the cord was threatening you, ready to snap. His hip movements grew sloppy as he moved to hold your hips in place, and one final thrust from Wonwoo had you seeing stars, and biting at Wonwoo’s hand over your mouth as you came, Wonwoo letting out a moan as he came, filling you. His body felt shaky as he pulled out of you, moving over to a table to grab a tissue, and cleaning up the mess before any of the couch stained.

      He pulled on his clothes as you got up, looking around for your clothes, and he helped you get ready, in majority silence. Before you looked for your bag, however, he stopped you. 

“I understand if I’ve turned you away from me from my shitty actions. To be honest, I’d probably feel the same, but I really do like you, and I mean it. I didn’t want to fuck you to take any advantage.” He said, nervous.

“Wonwoo, please, calm down. You may have been annoying, but you’re not a shit person. I know you didn’t hook up with me just to hook up,” You said, handing him his glasses to put on. “Um. I’m not terribly good at this, but I’d be willing to continue this… something, or whatever it is, if you want. Serious or not.” You said, and he beamed up at you, and you felt your heart squeeze.

     He nodded, and grabbed your bag for you. “Let’s go, then.” He said, unlocking the door for you, and heading with you to your car.

—-////—-

      The sucker in your mouth did nothing to calm your nerves, as you texted Wonwoo. After your escapade, you and him had a very private don’t-tell-anyone set up, not wanting anyone to fuck with the two of you. It worked for the better, as Wonwoo was able to sign with a new team with a big buck contract, even if it was going to be away from you. To be honest, you didn’t care about being public, and neither did he. Were you sometimes jealous of attention? Yes. Did the pictures and videos you saved from fans help? Also yes. To be fair, though, he was in your bed, not theirs, and it was victory enough.

      The manager ran over to you to knock you out of your thoughts, gushing about the new team setup, and how the world wasn’t ready. Your message to Wonwoo remained on delivered as you spun in your chair, anxiety rising. To be honest, you were starting to get worried, as you stressed, as you tapped away mindlessly on your keyboard.

      You sighed at the delivered on text, again, as you heard a ruckus growing in the entry of the dorms. Not dealing with that, you thought, until a hand on your chair stopped you from turning, and your sucker was ripped from your mouth. You turned to yell at whomever was next to you, only to freeze, seeing Wonwoo stick it into his mouth.

“What the fuck…?” You trailed off, as your manager came over. 

“Oh! Glad you’re getting settled in, Wonwoo,” He said, and turned to you. “Our new jungler!” 

      You nodded to the manager in shock, and Wonwoo held a shit eating grin on his face as he stared at you the whole time, and winked at you. You slowly put your headset back on as the manager requested a quick game, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Wonwoo touch your hand quickly, grinning at his screen, as the game started.

No, you didn’t hate Jeon Wonwoo, but he was absolutely going to be the death of you.

#jeon wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #☀️ writes

[courtingchaos]

An Excuse in the Form of Pie

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary: A little Thanksgiving ditty for you, just a few days late. This is in my Rent universe but you can just read it on its own if you’d prefer. Takes place like a year into them dating.

Warnings: Sex

NSFW 18+ No Minors

Oh they shouldn’t have trusted either of you two to do shit asked of you. All Wayne had to do was huff at the cardboard box that he was unloading onto your mom’s counter and Eddie was at the front door with your hand in his.

“What’d you forget?” He asked it too enthusiastically, earning a hard side eye from Wayne.

“The buttermilk pie.”

“We can go grab it.” Eddie already had the door open with you nodding along behind him.

“It’s not a two person job.” Wayne’s gaze never falters off his nephew or you, just a raise of his eyebrows while you two practically jitter out of your skin.

“What if my hands get cold? We can share the load, right Samwise?” Eddie has mischief all over his face when he glances at you over his shoulder. It’s in the dimples on his cheeks and the crinkles around his eyes. Those shine with giddiness that he’s been trying to tamp down all morning.

Wayne relents wordlessly, a toss of his hands upwards and another huff. “Nothing wise about either of you.” Muttered as he turns to help your mom with the unwrapping of casseroles.

Your aunts came in two days ago and he hasn’t had a moment alone with you since, all of it spent at your place in your mom’s living room listening to three middle aged women gossip. It was fun for the first day but when he realized you were essentially being held hostage and he couldn’t get even a quick feel up in the hallway without someone calling for you. A trailer not much bigger than his own and it was swarming with people and you kept getting lost in the throws.

“How long before they send out a search party?” Eddie asks while stomping up his front steps and unlocking the door, everything done in a rush like he’s running from your extended family.

“Well bud, I think Wayne already knows.” Your laugh follows him into the dark trailer before he yanks you in with him.

“Bud?!”

“Yeah, my buddy that I sleep with.”

“Is that all I am to you?” He pulls you against his chest in the midst of giggles and a tangle of feet trying to rid themselves of shoes. “Just a warm buddy you can take advantage of?” He asks like he isn’t the one manhandling you down the short hallway to his room. Your protests fall on deaf ears though as he nods along all aloof like and blindly slaps around behind his back for his doorknob.

“Seriously Eddie we gotta be quick, I don’t want Wayne marching over.”

“Hey.” He pulls away to point at you. “You don’t get to make fun of me when it’s over in under a minute, capiche?”

You laugh into his mouth while trying to kiss him and also trying to pull at his belt. His hands immediately find their way under your blouse, a lavender colored satin thing your mother forced you into that morning. He’d made a comment about you looking like one of those sad porcelain clowns and you’d thrown a serving spoon at him.

Now though you can’t get enough of his teasing mouth. His teeth that nip and pull away to draw you closer to his bed, his tongue that sneaks out to lick at the corner of your lips.

“Eddie c’mon.” You whine when he dips his head to kiss under your jaw, his hands still skirting the edges of your bra under your shirt. “Get me out of this stupid thing.”

He’s already plucking at the covered buttons before you finish your sentence. “Say no more.” Undone, just like your bra apparently, his little magic trick he’s perfected in the almost year you two have been together. He tugs you with him to sit on the edge of the bed and with you barely in his lap, the phone trills from the kitchen.

“There’s that ten minute warning.” Your hands slow down on the zipper of his ‘nice’ jeans, coming to terms with the fact you weren’t going to get anything you wanted this week.

“Well fuck their ten minutes.” His hands are rough on the wool of your skirt where he pushes it up your thighs, fingers sneaking under the silky lining to find the crease of your hips. “It’s not like we’re eating pie first.”

“You might be.” Your laugh is soft between you. Breath pushed out from the tickling movement of his fingers along sensitive skin. He gets a grip on you though and rolls you onto your back, your legs kicking around until he settles between your knees.

“Unfortunately no.” His fingers hook on your underwear to pull them down quickly. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to sneaking away later for a slice.” He vaguely pushes his jeans aside, finishing the job you left undone. The phone stops finally and Eddie grins down at you looking flushed and disheveled and wanting. He wants to get you out of your holiday finest and keep you in his sheets while the sky is still grey with rain. He doesn’t want to make this quick just because he’s missed you for a few days but the ache in his boxers does make a persuasive argument.

“What are you smiling at?” You ask him, trying to reach out to pull him closer. He gets the idea and drops down on his elbows to crowd into your space, nose running down along your cheek to plant a kiss on your earlobe.

“You. I miss you.”

“I know. The aunts will be gone by Saturday and you can have me all to yourself till Monday.” You run fingers through his tangled hair and he sighs, taking the moment for longer than he should. This was supposed to be a quickie after all.

“I’m gonna hold you to that-“

The phone rings again and he could swear it sounds more insistent than it did two minutes ago. “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying.” Your giggling does him in. He sits up with a rough yank of your hips to meet his and he works himself out of his boxers. Doesn’t give you more than a second to realize before he rocks his hips forward and makes you gasp through your smile.

The shriek of the phone echos through the empty trailer and it sets his teeth on edge, anger a whisper on the back of his thoughts “I swear to god I’m gonna graduate this year.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yup.” He grabs your leg to sloppily kiss your knee and keep your hips open for him. “I’m gonna get the fuck out there so we can get the fuck out of here.” His other hand sneaks between your legs to find your own ache, thumb rubbing circles over that bundle of nerves. The leg in his hold jumps and he laughs through his nose at the way you squirm against his onslaught. “Have our own fucking Thanksgiving.” His hips pound a rhythm against yours. “And I’m unplugging the fucking phone.”

Your laughter turns to moaning that you don’t have to keep hidden and Eddie’s eyes roll in his head. These are the daydreams he gets lost in during biology, ideas of you two living on your own anywhere but here. A place where you don’t have to keep quiet due to thin walls and family ever present. Eighty five is gonna be his fucking year if it’s the last thing he does.

When one call ends and immediately picks up into another loud ring, Eddie drops his head and focuses on you. “Come on baby, they’re gonna send out the sheriff soon.”

“I don’t-fuck I don’t care!” You give him a show with your head thrown back and your hands pawing at your own chest, one of your nipples pinched between your orange painted fingers. His hips snap in an uneven rhythm while he tries to hold off until you break, always trying to make you break first. Eyes screwed shut, back arching off the bed suddenly, he feels you clench around him and he buries himself deep to ride out the feeling with you. His movements stutter and he mumbles his love at you, babbling about next year in your own shared place. In your own shared bed.

There’s no room for basking in the afterglow and when Eddie finally lifts his head you’ve already rehooked your bra and started buttoning your shirt back up quietly. “I’m sorry this was…well, this.” You look around you sadly and spot your underwear on his crowded floor.

“Don’t be, I got to steal you away for a bit.” He’s redoing his belt but leans down to kiss your forehead. “And maybe later we can sneak out back and have some quality neckin’ time.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and the phone rings again and he turns unceremoniously out of his room without another word.

He tears the phone of the cradle and immediately hears Wayne, exasperated on the other end, asking where in the blue hell you two are. “Hello!” Eddie twirls the wire around his finger, his irritation clear through the line. “No we didn’t get lost, I was looking for something in my room.”

A moments fucking peace, he thinks to himself.

“Yeah, I see it. No I’m literally staring at it right now. Yep, she’s picking it up and we’re walking out the door.” You’re strolling into the living room and picking up your shoes and his, waving them at him. “Yes Wayne, I know. I’m sorry. Uh huh. Well…oh.” You’re watching him as his face softens and he smiles. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“What’s up?” Your hair is stuck up around your head and after he hangs up he reaches out to smooth a hand over the flyaways.

“He said he was stalling for us.” A blush creeps into the tips of his ears at the thought of that. A sweet gesture but still something he wished he could have kept to himself.

“Well that’s sweet of him. Told you he knew what was up.” You hand him his shoes that he drops and shoves his toes into while you grab the homemade pie out of the fridge. “You ready?”

“I was serious, by the way.” He doesn’t look at you while he locks the door and makes his intentions clear.

“About what?”

“The getting us out of here.”

You wait at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him warmly with the glass pie dish tucked up against your chest. “I know.”

He has a hard time meeting your eyes sometimes when he tries to talk about the future. “I mean, if that’s anything you’d want anyways.” He keeps his gaze unfocused while you both start back off to your trailer and your full family.

“Getting out of the trailer park?”

“Yeah.”

“Getting out of Hawkins?”

“That too.”

“Getting away with you?”

“That’s the part I wasn’t sure about.”

You find his hand swinging between you to grab it tight, lacing your fingers together. “Eddie, I’d love nothing more.”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson Fluff #Eddie Munson Smut #Eddie Munson x Reader #My Work #My Fic

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#358

“Yes you.  Come here.  Are you a faggot?  Don’t pretend to look shocked.  You’ve been following me and my best bud around this street fair all night.  It’s pretty bad when even he notices it; he’s so blind to all this shit.  He’s so straight, but I encounter it all the time.  Being six foot four, blonde, blue eyed, built, and packing nearly nine inches, I get fag eyes on me all the time.  And I know you seen my dick, after you followed me into that public toilet.  I’m looking for an ass to fuck, so let me ask you again, are you a faggot?...

“I didn’t want to know if you are gay.  I don’t want a gay boy.  I want a faggot.  I want two holes that want to service me and my cock.  One that craves to be humiliated and degraded, and one that views the men it serves as naturally superior, which I am.  One that knows it will probably get roughed up, and it considers it worth it in order to get the man’s load in its cunt.  A faggot prefers the pronoun ‘it’, because it knows it’s not a real man, and it knows that it is viewed as an object for the man’s enjoyment.

“I would ask if what I describe is you, but the tent—the rather small tent at that—in your sweatpants tells me everything.  Let’s go.  My motel is around the corner.

“My bud is going to be watching.  He’s known about my roughing up faggots for years.  This is the first time he’s shown any interest in watching.  I keep telling him to get a faggot like you on the side.  I doubt that he’ll join in.  But I think with us being out of state, our girlfriends are a thousand miles away.  So, he may be open to try new things.

“You drink piss?  Good.  I would have dumped you here if you hadn’t.  I have to take a wicked piss.  You cleaned out?  Normally I wouldn’t care, my cock would go in your mouth for cleaning in any condition.  But I don’t want to freak him out.

“Unless I tell you otherwise, your focus is solely on me.  When we get inside strip and get on your knees and kiss my feet….  You’ve done this before, right?... Figured.  Look at me….  That’s to keep you focused.  I love face slapping faggots.  And thank me for everyone I give tonight.

“Here we are, room nine.  Get in there.

“Hey I told you that I would get this fag back here in less than ten minutes.  They are so fucking easy to pick up….  It’s so hungry, it’s already stripping.  No flowers, no wine, no expensive dinner, no forced complements, and no goddammed snuggles while having a leaking boner in hopes that you get some pussy later.  Hell, we haven’t even exchanged names.  It knows to answer to ‘Faggot’ or ‘Cunt,’ and it will address us as ‘Sir.’  The faggot knows it is here solely for cock.  Its will never deny access to its cunt. 

“Hand me that empty Big Gulp cup.  I have to take a wicked piss. 

“Faggot hold the cup under my dickhead.  I want him to see the piss filling it up.  Don’t worry, you’ll be drinking it soon.  Oh man, did I need this.  He’s seen enough.  Take my cock in your mouth and drink the rest of it from the tap.  Fag, like that.  I got me a good piss drinker.  Put the cup on the floor.  When I tell you to pull off, I want you to drink the rest in the cup.

“See how easy it is?  Blowjobs are nothing to get.  You know how you were complaining about Lisa only sucking on your dickhead if and when she ever decides to grant you one.  Fags like this one love it.  They will take it down the throat.  If they struggle, you just jam it down their throat. 

“Toilet fag, pull off.  Drink the rest from the cup.  Chug it down.  There you go!  Now get me hard.

“Hey, I see you rubbing your bulge.  Go ahead and take it out.  I’ve seen your dick before.  No one will know.  Fag boy here won’t tell.  Go on….  There you go.  And if you want to use the faggot’s holes just let me know.  Hell, just shove it in.  It’s not like it has a say.

“If it balks, make it regret it.  Beat it.  That’s what it deserves.  I’ve beat faggots.  Usually it’s my belt.  Sometimes my bare hand.  Like this….

“Pull off Fag…. 

“Like that….  And it even thanked me for the face slap.  It craves this type of treatment. 

“Faggot, get up and turn around.  I want that a piece of that cunt. 

I normally will lock up the fag’s pecker in one of these pecker cages.  It’s this device that I saw in this dominatrix film, that goes around the pecker so the fag can’t jack off or fuck anything.  So if you are worried about the fag poking you, it can’t.  Hell, if we were back home, this faggot’s pecker would be tightly locked inside one of those things.  And I would leave it on as I kicked it out.  I mean, I’d do it if I wanted it to come back to take care of my needs.  They can’t even jack off until I unlock it on a later visit.  Best part?  It always comes back extra horny, extra willing to do what I want.  Oh man, its cunt is so silky smooth.  You really need to tap this.

“Fag, grab one of his boots from the floor.  Start licking it.  Show him how willing you are.  There you go.  Now sniff inside.  That’s smell is the smell of a hard-working man.  Now turn it over.  Lick it’s sole.  He walks in the dirt.  He steps in shit.  Show him that you are willing to degrade yourself to the point of licking the shit off his boot.

“Faggots don’t care what it licks for you.  It does what it’s told.  You ever have a girl lick your shithole?  Faggots will.  This cunt will.  It will do it for hours.  And they will not only lick the outside, but they will stick their tongue in deep.  It won’t care about cleanliness either. 

“If it does, just sit on its face.  Or, get a rimseat and chain it underneath.  I heard about this guy in the mountains that will make a rimchair to your specifications.  If I had the space, I would get me one.  Nothing like sitting comfortably in a chair with a fag underneath tongue fucking me for hours.  I did that once when I was in Germany on business.  That’s what made me seek out fags in the first place.

“Damn, that fag is really cleaning your boots’ soles.  Want it to lick your feet?...  Wait.

“Move back Fag, he wants out of the bed.

“Damn!  That slap was harder than any I have ever given!  You knocked it off my cock.  Look at it!  You nearly made it pass out. It’s seeing stars….  Fuck yeah!  Use its hair as a handle.  Skull fuck it.  It’s your cock, you control the blowjob.

“I’m so close.  I got to get back in its cunt.  Oh fuck.  I told you that you would enjoy this.  I’m so fucking close.  I’m gonna cum.  I’m gonna cum!  Fuuuuuuck!  Fuuuuuck!  God damned!

“Fuck.  You take your time.  We have nothing else to do tonight.  You enjoy yourself,… at its expense. 

“I’m going to head back out to the street fair.  Have fun.  Seriously.  When you are done, just show it the door….  Or, if you want…  I was just thinking, we are here for the weekend.  We have the game on Sunday, other than that we don’t leave back home until Monday.  If you want to keep it around to use all weekend, I’d love that.  And during our time at the game, we just tie it up and leave it here.

“Text me when you are done either way.  I knew you would enjoy this.”

[theghoulboysblog]

My Top Ten Favorite Moments from Ghost Files in Dallas Texas starting at the funniest:

1. Shane and Ryan getting into a brief argument over the Sally House flashlights and Ryan saying, “We are NOT going to rehash a six year fight!” and then making a comment along the lines of, “We’re like a married couple!”

2. After someone clarified that Shane stole Goatman’s Bridge first, Ryan agreed and said that it indeed was *technically* Shane’s bridge and that Shane deserves all of the credit. In response to that, Shane said that after he claimed the bridge from Goatman, he added Ryan’s name to the deed, so therefore IT IS IN FACT Shane and Ryan’s Bridge that they have joint possession of :) And Shane wasn’t being teasing about it AT ALL. He wasn’t saying, “Ha, Goatman’s gonna get BOTH OF US NOW.” He was being painfully genuine in a “i want this to be a thing you and me share” kinda way. 😭

3. Shane saying that he will more than likely finish the Hotdoga someday and that he has the ending roughly planned out in his mind! :D He also explained that he stopped due to the work load, leading Ryan to say, “He made the Hotdoga to annoy me, but then he was like ‘Damn, this is a lot of work!’” 😭 (Also someone made a comment on the dead look in Ryan’s eyes at the mention of the Hotdoga and said, “It took me back!” and Ryan sadly responded, “Me too.” Haha!)

4. The Shaniacs teasing Ryan about the evidence he caught / the evidence that he found compelling enough to include in the live show. Some person yelled nonchalantly, “FAKE!” and Ryan teased them multiple times through the show. Another person put air quotes around the word “evidence” while talking to Ryan and Shane took his hat off for a second in respect, and another person brought a laser pointer to help Ryan point out the evidence cause it was so hard to see and Ryan was so flabbergasted 😭 BRO WAS GOING THROUGH IT!!! (It was all lighthearted respectful teasing and Ryan was a good sport about it all!)

5. A person, dressed HEAD TO TOE as the professor, politely tossed some jelly beans at Shane, Meredith, and Ryan. Shane then dropped some of said jelly beans and proceeded to eat them off the ground, claiming that since they landed on the white carpet under their feet and not the stage that they were fine. Ryan and Meredith were NOT pleased in the slightest. Ryan did however take a clean green jelly bean out of Shane’s palm and Shane let him happily and then politely offered one to Meredith (she said no haha.)

6. SHANE ALMOST FALLING WHEN HE GOT UP TO DO THE ESTES METHOD LMAOOO!

7. Shane and Ryan talking about the episode they discussed the possibility that the man who died playing piano pooped himself and then revealing that they had to cut for like five minutes because they cried laughing so long. Shane, while reminiscing about this moment, said, “Very sad but GOD DAMN was it funny!” 😭 He also revealed that there have been MANY times him and Ryan have laughed themselves to tears together and I thought that was kinda sweet.

8. Meredith and Ryan thought there was a ghost backstage, and then Shane and Ryan lied to Meredith and said the ghost started acting up again when she left, resulting in Meredith believing that the ghost was just racist.

9. A fan asking Shane a question about a certain clip and saying, “When that ghost called you daddy-” and Shane, COMPLETELY misunderstanding what they said, yelling confusedly, “WHEN THAT GHOST FUCKING DIED?!?!?!? 🤨🤨🤨”

10. And lastly, Ryan calling Steven their “Delicate Steven Lim” and teasing him for the last few minutes of the show haha 💛 The best part of it was when Ryan was talking about him and Shane taking Steven ghost hunting years ago and stating that Steven had said he found his calm. Ryan, remembering this moment, said, “He didn’t find calm, he TALKED TO GOD!!! FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!!!” 😭 and the exasperation in his tone was so damn funny.

Bonus. This person came up to ask a question holding an empty nacho box and Ryan was weirdly extremely fixated on it 😭 He was pretty much like, “Did that hold nachos??? Cool. It looked like a nachos kind of box. Cool, cool. You looked like you enjoyed them? The nachos?” I literally have NO CLUE what that was about but I think he might have been hungry for some nachos idk?!?! 😭😭😭

(Other honorable mentions are Ryan being upset the ghost called Shane daddy and not him, Shane yelling that he’s “GOT PUPPETS TO MAKE!”, Ryan getting a little anxious when people weren’t cheering for his evidence and being like, “NEVERMIND I DON’T THINK IT’S COMPELLING ANYMORE I SWEAR-“, Shane blasting “Mamma Mia” before the show, and Shane taking amazing care of a doll someone gifted him and putting it between him and Ryan!!!)

The show was AMAZING, the episode was SO great, (NO SPOILERS BUT YOU GUYS ARE IN FOR A TREAT!!!), the people there were so accepting, and the Ghoul Boys were so UNBELIEVABLY NICE TO EVERYONE. If you have the money and time for it, I honestly recommend buying a ticket to one of the shows because I had SUCH A GOOD TIME. (Also, LITERALLY DON’T BE SCARED TO ASK THEM A QUESTION OR GIVE THEM A GIFT CAUSE THEY WERE SO GRATEFUL, PATIENT, AND KIND, ESPECIALLY TO PEOPLE WHO WERE OBVIOUSLY ANXIOUS TO TALK TO THEM.) I honestly have NOTHING bad to say about my experience. It was a dandy time and I plan to go to another show in the future if they ever tour again.

#shane and ryan #ryan bergara #ghost files tour #ghost files #besties fr

[moremaybank]

THIS LOVE — j.m

pairing actor!jj maybank x actress!reader

chapter summary jj faces the possibility of his scandal going public. then, he ends up reconnecting with you after five years. what happens when the two of you end up as costars for your upcoming romantic comedy?

warnings mentions of a sex tape, mentions of domestic abuse (jj and luke), language, violence, sexual content/eventual smut, anxiety. ex best friends to lovers, fake dating. this will be updated as the story develops. [2.2k]

author's note just a little post of the first chapter to build the hype! hope you enjoy and decide to continue reading ♡︎ also special s/o to @mvybanks and @jjsbank444 for beta reading and quelling my nerves &lt;3

recommended listening second chances by kiana ledé ft. 6lack

this love — the complete playlist ;; the masterlist ;; the tag list

❝ CHAPTER ONE ❞

JJ

Threesomes are fun. Foursomes, however, are a blast. 

At least, JJ Maybank seems to think so. 

“You have three different women threatening to release your sex tape. It’s not a good look for you, JJ.”

Well, he does when they don’t include a secretly-filmed sex tape and three fame-thirsty girls trying to ruin his career for a quick cash grab. 

“It’s not like they’re three separate tapes. We were all together when it was made,” JJ smirks. 

Josh, his manager, lets out an exasperated sigh. “That doesn’t make things any better, and it does nothing to help our circumstances. You need to clean up your act and you need to start doing it now, Maybank, or you’re going to lose everything.”

JJ rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the fifteen minutes that this meeting has been going on. It’s bullshit, really. He’s one of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now. He’s youthful, dashingly handsome, and loaded. The world is his freakin’ oyster, and he deserves to have some fun.

“You’re supposed to keep up your whole approachable, goofy, boy-next-door image intact, and having a ménage à…quatre, is not the way to do it.” my publicist, Andrea, chimes in. “If you aren’t careful, you’re going to lose your entire fanbase. You’re one of the most universally-liked celebrities in the business, right now. If this gets out, you’re going to have to kiss your crystal clear reputation goodbye.”

“So, let’s just pay ‘em the hush money. What do I care?” JJ says, taking his cap off and running a hand through his unruly strands.

“And you’re fine with forking over ten million dollars? Just like that?” Andrea scowls. “What if they take the money and still decide to release the tape? Or demand more?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Andrea. Now, are we done here? I’m supposed to meet my co-star for my new movie in an hour and I’d really like to get in another — how did you put it? Ah, yes. Ménage á quatre — before I go.”

Josh runs a hand over his face, “Do you care about anything anymore?” 

JJ ignores his statement, putting his hat back on and sitting up in his chair. “Can I leave?”

He can tell that Josh wants to scold him or make some witty remark in return, but he bites his tongue. 

“Go. And, please, for the love of all things holy, do not screw this up.” 

If JJ had a penny for every time he’s heard that, he’d be richer than Jeff fucking Bezos.

-

Y/N

“And last but not least, this is your dressing room. You’ll have your own trailer, but this is more for when we’re actually on set and in between takes.”

You grin as you look around the luxurious room. There’s a huge vanity in front of you, as well as some plush couches, and you don’t fail to notice the large mini-fridge in the corner of the room or the flat-screen TV plastered onto the wall. There’s a window as well, letting in the California sunshine you’ve come to love and appreciate beyond your beliefs.

“Wow, this is…amazing. I can’t thank you guys enough for this opportunity. I’m so grateful, I hope you know that.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You’re the very reason we wanted to do this project in the first place. If anything, we’re the lucky ones,” Derek, the director states with a grin. “So, you ready to meet your co-star, or what?”

“Yeah! I mean, I’m nervous, but, beyond excited.”

Derek leads you back into the hallway, and you make your way to one of the offices. 

“I think you’ll love him. Word is, he comes from the Outer Banks just like you. Who knows, you’ve probably met him in passing.”

Wait…what? He’s from OBX? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly mean—

“Y/N Y/L/N, meet the esteemed JJ Maybank,” Derek states, his proud smile growing sizeably larger than you thought possible. 

It doesn’t matter how excited he is, though. All you can focus on is your heart beating out of your chest and the ringing in your ears. You see Derek’s lips moving but you can’t hear a thing. Your eyes are caught on the blonde in front of you, and all you can think about is how painful it is to look into those oceanic eyes after five years.

It’s equally as painful as it was the last time you saw him. If not, more.

“Uh— Y/N, I…it’s— it’s been a while,” JJ stutters out. 

It’s all too much. Seeing him here, in front of you. His eyes locked on yours, his hand reaching out to touch you but retracting once he notices the fear in your gaze. Your eyes flit over to Derek, whose face has a more than confused look painted over his features. 

“Excuse me, Derek, I— I need to get out of here.” 

You speed into the restroom, locking the door behind you and setting your hands on the counter. Your chest tightens, and your breathing speeds up. She shudders, trying to shake it out as the room starts to feel like it’s closing in on you.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You can do this. Don’t let him get to you,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror. “It’s just…it’s just JJ.”

You feel the tears start to well in your eyes and you watch as they overtake their boundaries and roll down your flushed cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away, though, refusing to admit defeat. 

“Stop,” you tell yourself. “It’s been five years. You’re better than this.”

You aren’t sure if the words are true to your heart, because all you can think about is how the boy you loved from the ages seven to eighteen — the one who betrayed you and shattered you into a million pieces — is now your co-star for the romantic comedy you’ve just been cast in.

What could possibly go wrong?

A lot, you think. A lot could go wrong. 

JJ

JJ watches as you make your way back into Derek’s office, shooting him a convincing smile.

“My apologies, Derek. Girl troubles,” you say. 

JJ still knows you well enough to see that you’re hoping Derek will believe your bullshit excuse. 

“Oh, uh, no worries at all, Y/N. I completely understand. I’ve got three daughters at home,” he speaks, trying to assure you that everything is fine. He places this hand on JJ’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “JJ, here, was just telling me how the two of you have known each other since you were in elementary school. It must be quite the hell of a reunion, huh?”

You plaster a fake grin onto your lips, “One hell of a reunion, indeed.”

JJ refuses to look at you, his ex-best friend, and vice-versa. Truthfully, he’s terrified to catch your eye again. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to form a coherent sentence if he does. 

“Well, I’ve got some stuff to take care of, so I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

Derek exits his office, and you and JJ are left in complete and utter silence.

God, JJ missed you so much. He’d seen you making headlines just as you always said you would, but he was always quick to click away, deciding not to dwell on everything he’d lost. But this, now, seeing you right in front of him as gorgeous as ever…it made the walls he’d worked so hard to put up begin to crack. 

Then again, you’d always had that effect on him. 

Even after all these years, he was still a complete wreck over you. You held his heart in the palm of your hand and he wasn’t even sure if you knew it.

Your scent was still etched into his mind, still buzzing deep within his senses and his memory. You smelled of the saltwater beaches of the Outer Banks. The notes of coconut from the shampoo he’d recognized still lingering in the tresses of your hair. The sweet hints of vanilla that clutched to your skin are prominent as ever. The combination sounds like a lot, and it was, but not in the overpowering way one would assume. They blended into one heavenly and unique fragrance. 

She smelled like her, he thought. She smelled like home. 

To be honest, JJ wasn’t sure whether or not this was a reminder he wanted to welcome with open arms, but either way, here it was. Here you were. After the way he’d hurt you and destroyed your relationship forever. 

After he lost himself. 

Funnily enough, you’d always had a way of popping up whenever he needed and longed for you. He never even had to speak a single word. You just always knew. And you might not have guessed it now, but he needed you more than he ever had before.

JJ scratches his brow with his index finger. “So, um…how have you been?” 

“Don’t. Just…don’t.”

“Y/N, please,” he pleads. He almost wants to get down on his knees and beg. You can’t even look at him, and that hurts more than he could ever put into words.

“No. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m fine with being professional while we film this movie, but I’m not getting into this with you. I’m not getting into any of it.”

JJ remains silent, choosing to nod because he’s not totally sure he can find his voice. 

As much as he hated to let the thought in, you were a walking reminder of every bad decision he’d made since he left the island and never looked back. He looked at you, and he saw two things. The first being the crinkling of your bright eyes when you smiled. The melodic laugh he could pull from your lips at a moment’s notice. Your hair blowing in the wind as you stuck your head out the window of John B’s Twinkie. And the second being the look of despise and pain on your face as you confronted him. The mascara-stained tears flowing down your heated cheeks. The way you walked away from him and deliberately chose not to look back and steal a second glance at him. 

How was he expected to act all suave and cool when you were right there in front of him, actively choosing not to even look in his direction?

Truth is, he doesn’t think he can. 

-

JJ glances at his phone once he leaves the production office still shaken by the day’s events. 

2 Missed FaceTime Calls from John B

JJ swipes to the right and watches as his phone rings, awaiting his best friend’s answer while he plops down on the steps in front of the building. The line rings for a few moments before he hears shuffling through the speaker, followed by John B’s face appearing on his screen.

“Hey, man. how was your meeting? Your new costar as hot as we imagined?”

JJ tears his eyes away from the camera, his lip sinking between his teeth. His complexion pales, and John B picks up on it. 

“Jeez. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Because I have,” JJ deadpans. He’s still reeling from your presence, and it shows.

“Huh?”

“It’s Y/N…my costar is Y/N.”

“Ooh, yikes,” John B responds. “Did she nut-punch you?”

“It’s not funny.” 

JJ tugs his cap off as he always does when he’s stressed, and his fingers card through his hair. He tugs lightly at the strands as he tries to alleviate the tension building up in his head. 

“She couldn’t even look at me, John B. Her eyes were on me for all of five seconds before she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. Then, when she came back, she looked at everything but me. She barely even let me speak to her.”

“Well, to be fair, you guys didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms.”

“Yeah, JB. I know. Thanks for the reminder, as if I didn’t fucking know that already.”

“All right, look. Did you fuck up majorly? Yeah. But the love the two of you had…it ran deep. It doesn’t just disappear without a trace, especially if things are this heated after five years. I think you can get her to forgive you.” 

JJ scoffs, “Yeah? And how do you suppose I do that?”

John B gives him a knowing look through the screen. 

“You have to tell her the truth, JJ.”

“Funny.”

“J,” John B mildly scolds. “The reason she hates you right now is because you weren’t honest with her. The JJ she knew before that night never would’ve treated her the way you did. Buck up. Tell her.”

The call disconnects, and JJ is left staring at his screen with a tense jaw. He knew John B was right. He was always right. But how on earth was he expected to muster up the courage and tell you the truth about that night? He doubted — no. He knew it’d be impossible to convince you to hear him out. 

Then again, he also knew he had to try. Because he couldn’t stand to be around you nearly every single day for the next few months, knowing that you wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.

jj tag list: @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @pankhoeforlife @cecesrings @wildflwrdarlin @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @topper-thornton @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptherecs @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @pinkpantheris @julesmendoza890 @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie

#₊‧°𐐪 this love — j.m 𐑂°‧₊ #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank au #jj maybank series #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj obx #jj outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx x you #obx au #obx series #obx smut #obx imagine #obx angst #obx fluff #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks au #outer banks series #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks angst #outer banks fluff

[f1-giuki]

Hi babe!

Here's a prompt for lestappen and a little drink to get you away from contract law for a bit

“god, here- just hold my hand.”

🍹🍹 tagay tayo

DARLING BABY🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖🥺💖 love you so much you have no idea🥺💖 Sorry if I'm late but these fucking exams are taking my will to live out of me😭😭😭😭

Now here's a little something for you👀👀

-

Max loves petrichor. He likes the rain falling softly over things in the summer, the soft gray clouds and the muted lights, cutting through the merciless heat. The thunder in the distance, softly rumbling, playing over his thoughts. He has had many fond memories linked to the rain, many karting wins, race wins, pole positions, championships and Champions League finals won by his favourite football team. Sports and the rain are a fan favourite.

But Max doesn't like the rain now. It's late night, two am or not too much after, and he is pacing nervously in a square metre space. He's in the Ferrari garage at the Circuit de la Sarthe, for his first ever actual 24h of Le Mans, and he's stressed as fuck. He's not supposed to be in the car for another few hours, but the torrential rain is pouring down the track and it's keeping him awake. He has slept for a while after his stint, the adrenaline falling down rapidly, but he woke up after a particularly loud thunder and he's been restless for the past fifteen minutes, worried for Charles, his teammate.

That's just one of the many strange things happening that early Sunday. Like the yellow circle with a familiar looking red bull painting nicely the side of the red car. A little partnership, as Christian called it when Max phoned him one stupid morning to ask him why the fuck did Ferrari offer him a deal to drive for them for the 2032 endurance championship?

The best kept secret in the world, because seeing Charles and Carlos' surprised faces when he appeared in Via Abetone Inferiore, Maranello, was the fucking funniest thing Max had ever seen. But that was over a year ago, now Max isn't laughing, he's biting his nails worried for Charles.

The Monegasque is managing the car beautifully, breezing past the other GT cars as if they weren't even there. He's born for it and Max shouldn't even worry about Charles. But it's Le Mans and it's raining at night.

"Cabrón, stop pacing, you're making me anxious!" Carlos says, slapping Max's shoulder. He knows the Spaniard will slap him in the face if he keeps on flapping his hands around. "Fifteen minutes and he'll be out of the car, we have this under control, go back to sleep," Carlos says and Max can't really argue with him. What is settling in his stomach is still not very good.

Carlos ignores him and keeps on preparing for the drive. A mechanic brings Max a warm infusion, to relax a bit, Max. He thanks him and drinks it, he quite likes the fact that Ferrari has both cans of Red Bull and infusions. One for each of his messy mental states.

"Ten minutes, Max, then he's all yours," Carlos says snickering when Max finishes his drink and plays with the paper cup. 

"Fuck off, Carlos," Max spits as his leg keeps bouncing.

He spends the next minutes with his eyes glued to the TV screen in the box, leaning on his chair. Carlos cracks his knuckles and mutters: showtime. The whole garage turns alive as Carlos grabs his seat and goes out to the lay-by. They load up the tank and Charles gets out. Carlos gets in and drives away. The Monegasque gets in the box among pats on the back and Max looks at him.

Charles looks happy, he'd jump around if he wasn't so tired. He sinks into the chair next to Max and looks at him with those smiley green eyes. He takes off his gloves and Max squeezes the little paper cup in his hands.

"What are you doing up?" Charles asks, his accent prominent, his Rs inexistent.

"Couldn't sleep," Max says as he passes his hands on his face. 

Charles takes off his helmet and his balaclava and looks at Max with his hair rumpled. Stupid Monegasque, stupid hair and stupid tired brain for making his heart beating wildly.

"Why?" Charles asks, simply. He puts his helmet down on his thighs. A mechanic brings him the same cup Max has destroyed in his hand. Charles thanks him in Italian and spreads his legs a bit wider, touching Max thigh with his knees. Max looks at the point where their bodies are meeting and then looks at Charles. The Monegasque smiles. Motherfucker. 

"Answer meeee," Charles says, sipping his beverage. Max's leg keeps on bouncing, but now he doesn't have an explanation. Charles is next to him. His brain is fucking weird, Max can't understand it.

"You…" Max says, trying to make his leg stop twitching. It's useless, so he flaps his hands around too.

Charles smiles at him, a mixture of endeared and surprised. "Me? Were you worried about me in the race? I can keep it in the lines with the rain, even if I'm not a maniac like you and Carlos!"

Max shakes his head and looks at where Charles' hand is resting on his red suit. "Hey, are you okay, Max? Fuck, you shake like a leaf, do you want me to call the doctor?"

Max shakes his head. He should really fucking sleep. Carlos' hypercar is shown on tv and Max tries to steady his breath. It's not very useful.

"God, here, hold my hand…" Charles says, opening his palm and pushing it in Max's face. The Dutchman blinks at it. Charles rolls his eyes and takes Max's hand in his. It's warm, not sweaty, and incredibly soft. Charles definitely uses expensive hand lotion.

"Yes, I do," Charles says and Max blushes a little, he said it out loud. "Don't worry, just try to focus on your breathing, Max, then we'll go and lay down a little, is it okay?"

"Yeah, thank you," Max croaks. Charles squeezes his hand and smiles.

Max feels his eyes get a bit heavier and he leans over Charles’ shoulder. The Monegasque lets him rest there and Max feels sleep coming to him once again. Max doesn't know if he's dreaming of it or it's really happening, but he feels a pair of lips on his hair, mumbling a good night, baby softly. He hums happily anyway.

It's going to be a long night… 

#lestappen #lestappen fic #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #lestappen fanfic #lestappen prompt

[enluv]

love spill !

PAIRING! - rockstar!jay (enha) x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k+

warnings: angst-ish but not really + fluff later !!, reader is stressed/exhausted, profanity, slow burn(?)

coco’s ♡ note: this came from a mini game I answered once and literally could not get over because I need rockstar bf jay so badly, I might make more with this jay too so let me know if you like it or have any rockstar!bf jay thoughts because I will indulge and write them !!! literally adore this jay so much ahhhh!!!

Finally.

Finally some piece and quiet away from the shared apartment you live in with the three younger boys.

Perhaps living with your younger brother and his university friends wasn’t the best idea, especially when you had a ten page journalism report due by three pm the next day.

That’s why you find yourself here on a hot summers day sitting in your favorite cafe, it’s not busy on Fridays and is hidden enough so the boys won’t find you for a while, but they will come looking eventually.

The bell of the cafes door rings to signify it being opened but this report is due tomorrow and you can’t stop to look up, but maybe you should have. Maybe you should have because now as you watch the hot brown liquid seep into your laptops keyboard you become painfully aware of the boy in front of you who’d walked in early wearing the most guilt ridden expression. His words muffled as you watch your screen go black.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m so sorry. Wait here let me get something to clean this up.” He’s fumbling with the other drinks in his hand as he tries to reach for napkins to clean the spill he’s made.

Where else would you go really? Right now you’re just waiting for the ground to swallow you whole. Had the program even saved the other three pages you’d written? Was your hard work gone just like that? Would your professor even believe you if you told him what happened? Even if it sounded straight out of a movie?

“Just leave it, I’ll clean it myself. Please leave.”

He stills at your words, no malice or emotions within them just exhaustion. The tone of your voice makes his heart ache, and he swears to himself that he’s going to make up for this for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry for this really, I need to leave because I have a schedule to get to but I promise I’ll make this up to you. Can I have your number?”

Your stare makes him feel small, then he realizes how his question sounds after a minute passes between you two.

“Wait I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not asking you out. Not saying I wouldn’t ask you out but I’m not doing that right now! I just need it so I can text you to pay you back, or I can pay to get your laptop fixed. I’ll send you the money or even if you want buy you a new one.”

Jay can’t tell what you’re thinking but somehow he’s walking out of the cafe with your phone number and an assortment of drinks for his members. Dreading having to explain to them just what happened in the cafe.

unknown (2:46pm):

uh hey this is jay, I’m the one who dropped my coffee on your laptop, really sorry about that by the way!! um i want to give you these so I can say sorry again in person because my mom always said to apologize face to face or you don’t mean it and also that way we can figure out the laptop money thing together.

unknown (2:47pm):

four attachments sent

just stop by tomorrow and have some fun and then after I’ll come find you and we can talk!! what’s your name by the way?

you (3:12pm):

it’s y/n. thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.

“I cannot believe some random dude gave you tickets to see downfall, like this show has been sold out for months and I mean months, talking eight months and he just gave up four tickets to see them? He must be loaded! Tell him you want a new computer and game console, I want the newest version.”

Jungwon’s excited rambles bring a smile to your face, sure just yesterday you’d cried almost all the water out your body until Jungwon had called your professor and explained in detail (along with sticking the phone in your room so he could hear your cries) the situation, but he’d also somehow gotten you an extension on your paper for the next week. He seriously deserved the random concert tickets the stranger, Jay, had sent you.

Receiving them was odd but he’d convinced you with the promise of fixing your laptop and that’s honestly all that mattered, so if you had to sit through a three hour long show next to some stranger who spilled coffee on your laptop then so be it because you’d be getting it fixed no matter what.

Except instead of said random stranger sitting next to you, an actual random stranger stood beside you excitedly yapping with her friends and the random stranger you had expected was perched on stage with a guitar in hand, microphone stationed in front of him like it belonged to him, and soon enough you’d realize from the crowds hollers that it did belong to him.

“ARE YOU READY FOR TONIGHT?” He’s met with screams all around the arena.

“That’s what I like to hear, alright let’s go.”

The shock of who Jay was really didn’t cease even after the show had ended and the four of you began to walk out the packed venue, it doesn’t really go away until a large man comes to escort you backstage.

“Hey buddy I think you have the wrong people, we’re just here still because my sisters waiting for someone.” Jungwon’s voice breaks you out of your shock and the man nods as if he knew what he was going to say.

“Yeah he’s backstage, just follow me.”

Jay fidgets with the bag he has in his hands, earlier he’d dragged the boys along with him to pick you out a new laptop and even threw in a new case and holder for it. He really wanted to get the image of your exhausted eyes out of his mind, he wanted to see you happy and healthy.

“Y/N you didn’t tell us the guy who spilled coffee on you was one of the members of downfall,” the voice he hears is failing to whisper as you get closer.

“Are we about to meet one of the members? What if it’s just like a staff or something like why would an actual member be getting their coffee and oh my god that’s the lead singer Jay.”

He laughs shyly at the boy who’s mouth is now wide open pointing excitedly at him, but he quickly shuts up as he spots you. You look so pretty, completely different from when he’d last saw you drenched in coffee and exhaustion all over your face. Right now you looked content and really really pretty.

“Hey Y/N, I know I said I’d give you the money to fix your laptop but I thought you should just have a completely brand new one, I’m really sorry for spilling my coffee on yours, I’m sure you were busy and needed it, I hope you can use this new one well,” his breath hitches as he holds out the bag to you and your fingers touch briefly, “and I hope you liked the show, I see your friends did.” He sends a wave their way and laughs when they all excitedly wave back.

A smile begins to develop on your cheeks and his heart races. This is exactly how he’d like to see you, happy and smiling.

Later that night as you pull out the new laptop determined to finish your nearly complete paper, a small card flutters out with it that reads —

“I wrote this to say not only sorry again, but to also ask if you’d like to go out with me sometime? and I mean it this time, as in I am actually asking you out unlike last time when I, you know accidentally asked you out unintentionally, this time I promise it’s intentional. Please let me make up the god awful first meeting we had, I promise it’ll be worthwhile. You have my number so if you want to then just shoot me a text but if not then that’s fine with me too! – Jay”

A smile forms on your face as you set down the card and get to working on your essay, the answer to Jay’s proposition already clear in your mind. Yes.

coco’s love note: i am so terribly down bad for jay it’s crazy. he’s so just perfect like I adore him so much!! and I’m the biggest rockstar!jay enthusiast like I just had to write something about it, plus I think it’s so adorable how he’s clumsy in this fic but a crazy rager on stage & only mc gets to see both sides of him fully! I hope you enjoyed this fic! As always, feedback & reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

enhypen taglist?! @en-fvr @bloom-bloom-pow @nikis-mum @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spoooooooooooon @enhacolor @yoongimooni @blaqpinksthectic @gyuuss @eternallyhyucks @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @jjunry @jwonsgirl @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @bobariki @vatterie (bold can’t be tagged!) Wanna be added to the taglist? – Check out THIS post!

#☕️: love spill! #enhanet #kflixnet #k lables #enhypen #jay park #enhypen park jongseong #enhypen jay #enhypen angst #enhypen comfort #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen soft hours #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jay drabbles #enhypen jay x reader #jay park angst #jay park enhypen #enhypen park jay #park jongseong #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha jay

[raineandsky]

#56

tw: implied torture, implied violence

The villain makes a run for it.

They would, anyway, if they weren’t limping. A nasty gash in their leg is slowing them down, and with the way this evening is going it won’t even get time to stop bleeding before it doesn’t matter anymore.

Things are changing. Villainy used to pay well, had long prison sentences at worst. Now, fuck, now—

The villain’s coat catches on the decorative metal swirl of a nearby bench. A string of ugly curses fall out of their mouth as they turn back to pull at it, praying that the fabric will just untangle itself. They don’t have time, fuck, not now, please not now—

“[Villain],” a voice calls from the end of the road, like someone spotting an old friend. A figure casually meanders towards them, receiving another series of equally undignified and justified expletives. The figure steps closer, closer, closer.

The villain yanks at the hem in one final desperate attempt to free themself. The fabric chooses then to rip loudly, throwing them to the cold pavement mercilessly. They scramble to right themself. The fall has wasted precious seconds. The figure has closed the space uncomfortably between them, even though they know it means nothing.

Fuck, they’re so tired. They got into a fight they realised too late they couldn’t win. They fled the scene in the hopes that they could return to their base and recover. Their enemy didn’t give them the time of day. They’ve been tailing the villain for almost ten minutes. Not getting too close, not chasing them. Just following.

“I feel like a tiger or something,” the other says casually, though the villain can barely hear them over their own panicked, erratic breathing, “and I’m just waiting for my prey to get tired and lay down.”

They laugh—they fucking laugh. Heroes are fucking sadistic now. They don’t have long anymore. They’re exhausted, hurt, fuck, they’re scared. Terrified. They’ve heard about the fates of some of the more recently disappeared villains. They don’t want to go the same way as them. They can’t.

“[Villain], come on,” the hero calls again, and the villain tries desperately to block them out. They’re horrifyingly close now, just close enough to send a chill down their spine. “You’re making this a big thing that could’ve been over ten minutes ago.”

Panic is flooding everything, forcing the villain to keep moving despite the fact they can’t, they can’t. Every part of them is trembling, forcing them to hone in on the echoing click of the hero’s shoes against the concrete behind them. They’re still keeping their distance, waiting for the villain to make a wrong move before truly closing in. It– it’s fucked up. The hero’s like those killer whales that toy with seals for hours before they inevitably eat them.

The adrenaline can’t keep them going forever. They take a step and their knees buckle, sending them tumbling onto the jagged concrete again. Gravel digs into their palms. They know the moment they hit the ground that they won’t be able to get back up.

That doesn’t stop them trying. They let their hands feel the sharp edges of the pavement below them as they desperately try to pull themself up. They move tediously to get their legs under them, but they can’t. Fuck, they can’t, they’re trapped here.

The footsteps stop a little way away, like the hero wants to respect their space. What a load of horseshit that is. “[Villain],” they try again, and the gentleness of their tone is almost believable. “[Villain], please, stop making this difficult.”

The villain laughs, a sort of pained, choking sound. Tears are threatening to spill, blurring their vision. “Oh, it’s difficult for you?” they demand, their voice scratching in their throat. “It’s hard to kill someone who doesn’t want to die, huh? How tragic that you had to look someone in the eye and see their last emotion be– be fear.”

Those footsteps start clicking again, and every survival instinct kicks in at once. “N–No, fuck, no, I’m sorry—”

A hand digs through their hair, harshly wrenching their head back and earning a raspy cry. They don’t have the strength to stop it anymore. They can’t stop it. Fuck, it’s scary. They want to go home.

“Look, [Villain], it’s nothing personal, a’ight?” the hero says, pointedly ignoring the wet streaks already painting the villain’s cheeks. “It’s business. You know how it is.”

“I’m– I’m sorry, please, I– I’ll never do it again, I swear I—”

The hero shushes them like they’re calming a thrashing animal and not a human they’re about to execute in the street. The scrape of an unfolding metallic blade cuts the air, the sound soft like it was meant to be a secret. The villain makes one last vain attempt to free themself. Their lack of energy only lets them grasp desperately at the hero’s hand in their hair.

Something cold rests against their neck. A despondent sob escapes them. They don’t want to die. They can’t die. Fuck, there’s no way out. They’re going to die.

“Hey, hey, [Villain], it’s okay.” The hero’s voice is hushed. “I’m not gonna kill you, a’ight? This is all just part of the song and dance. You made it difficult, so I have to act like I at least tried to catch you.”

The villain chokes back another sob rising in their throat. “Y–You tried?”

The hero hums absently. “Yeah, agency’s always gonna wanna see a seasoned villain on their knees, right? If I can take you in, we both look how the agency wants.”

What? No, this isn’t right. Heroes always kill villains. They think back as much as the terrified fog in their mind will let them. The disappearing villains. The heroes. No, no, they can’t be—

“You and I are gonna head back to the agency now, a’ight?” the hero continues. They finally let go of the villain, letting them collapse to the ground again. “I have some friends that’d really like to see you. You’ll have a little interrogation, tell us what you know. Easy.”

The villains before, they– they always disappeared into the agency first. For weeks. They were always found bloody and broken afterwards. Fuck, god, no—

The hero bends down to them, their hand latching onto the back of their coat. The villain makes another futile attempt to free themself, but they don’t have the energy to try anymore. They’d cry if they had the strength to.

“[Hero], please…” Their voice comes out in uneven stammers. “Please, I– I swear I’ll never, ever do this– any of this again, please, I– I can’t—”

“Of course you won’t,” the hero says casually. “Agency’s a good place. You’ll come out a changed person.”

Fuck, as if the villain doesn't know that. They wish the hero had just run that fucking blade across their throat. It would’ve been better than wherever they’re about to go.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #whump #tw implied torture #tw implied violence #me yesterday: hm. how many fucks can i put in a story #the answers 13. new record i think #13 fucks in a snippet and yet none given aha

[abbonation]

Swimming Through Starlight

(18+ MINORS LEAVE THE PREMISES)

The hunt for a bounty presents you and your Mando with an impromptu vacation opportunity.

Tags/Warnings: Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Reader, Language, Smut, No use of Y/N, PinV sex, Creampie, Breeding kink if you squint, teensie bit of assplay 🤭,

You had been doing.. whatever this was for nearly a full cycle now. Traveling with Din and his kid, Grogu, fixing shit on the Crest- but somewhere along the way you had accidentally found an actual home with them and now… Well now they were stuck with you, you guessed. 

Niamos was the current destination, a planet covered with glittery beaches warmed by its star and a reputation for being a cozy hideout for felons and the like.

“I’m not going to lay on the beach in just my helmet.” You can tell he must be straight faced under that visor by the tone of his voice.

“What would it take to convince you?” You smirk and rub your hand up his calf under the blanket in his bunk. 

Mando sits up and looks at where your hand is moving, “Kriff- fucking… nothing, don’t use your magic on me,” He scoots down the cot to start preparing for landing. Loading blasters, rations and med-kits into the bag he so lovingly has you carry while he lugs whatever scumbag he’s picking up here. You’re sure to stuff the one and only thing you own that could pass off as swimwear into the bag too- just in case.

-

“Mando look! Ice pops!” You beckon towards him- grab Grogu from his sling on Din’s hip and practically skip towards the stand. 

He scolds out your name, “We’ve barely been on the ground for ten minutes,”

“But- they have Moonberry flavor,” you put on your best pout up to him and watch as he analyzes your face from behind the visor.

The baby gurgles up at the both of you, and Din sets a couple credits down on the counter. The stall attendant pulls your frozen treat out of the case and hands it to you, “One Ice pop for the beautiful lady and.. the baby...” He ends his statement as if it was a question and you giggle, turning back to Din. 

You bite off a tiny piece for Grogu and put the rest in your mouth- holding it with your lips as you feed the broken piece to him. Finally you get your turn to enjoy your treat when the baby realizes he can hold it himself, and you notice Din staring down at you as you walk side by side through the bustling little city. 

“What?” You ask, knowing exactly what.

“Nothing.” He turns back to the road ahead.

—

“So this is the guy, huh?” You stand from the sandy ground, where you’d been sitting with Grogu, letting him run through the puddles the sandbar left behind when the tide went out. 

It had only been a few hours since you parted ways with Din to go catch his bounty, and while he was gone you started brainstorming the perfect way to get him to enjoy this beachy getaway while he could. 

“Yup,” Mando jerked the male human's shoulder, “He thought he’d be able to hire some of his buddies to hide him.” 

“Ah,” you look at the bounty’s face, scrunched in pain from Din’s hold on him, “That never works, see, he’s got this tracker on his helmet-“ 

“Alright, enough,” Mando interrupts you, “It’s time to go.”

You pick Grogu up from where he was playing with a little crustacean and walk towards the Crest with Din

Mando wrangles his bounty into carbonite while you tuck your green toddler into his floating crib and watch him drift off, sending soothing emotions to his brain, before meeting Din back by the door of the Crest. 

“So,” you start, “Do you think we could stay for a while?” 

“Where, here?”

“Well, maybe not here in town, I’d just like to enjoy the beach a while longer,” 

“I don’t know, cyar’ika,” Din returns, shrugging.

“I saw a more secluded part of the beach while we were waiting for you, you’d just have to move the Crest out of town. Maybe you could rest for a while while we have dinner,” 

He looks down at you once again and you try to pick at his brain, finding nothing. 

“Please.” You once again pout up at him.

“Fine, just for a little bit, though.” 

-

A distance down the beach, away from the small city and in the cover of the dunes and vegetation Niamos provided, you stood in the ‘fresher, ditching your normal shirt, chest wrap and cargo pants for the one and only pretty piece of underwear you owned. A strappy purple thing that hugged your breasts together; no matter if you had to wear a pair of your regular undies, this would surely get the job done.

“Hey, Din,” you step down the ramp to join your Mando down on the sand that was cooling in the late afternoon sun. 

Din turns towards you from where he stands and you can visibly see the way his helmet drops to stare at your body. He’d never been the boldest with his public affection, but while in private he was nearly insatiable with his hunger for you.

“Din?” 

He jerks his helmet back up to your face.

“Did you hear me?”

“What?” The vocoder sounds low and gravelly as he chokes out the single word.

You giggle and walk towards him, “Do you want to swim with me?”

“Uhh,” he gulps, “The uhm- my helmet,”

You feign annoyance at him, “Oh fine, you can watch me play then.”

You tap his chest plate on your way past down into the waves, making sure to swing your hips as seductively as possible. 

You walk into the gently lapping waves up to your calves and toe around in the wet sand, then turn back to where Din sits on the beach, just watching you.

“It’s warm, Din. I wish you could feel.” 

You splash around for a bit, now wishing Grogu wasn’t asleep on the Crest so he could play too. 

You decide if he’s gonna stay asleep for a while, and Din isn’t gonna come in the water, you should have some fun of your own. You face the sunset, the water up to your hips; and almost against your own volition your hands reach to the back of your neck and untie the knot holding your top up. You lift the straps over your head and drop them down, freeing your nipples to the crispy air. 

“Hey-“ Din shouts your name from the beach, trying to get your attention.

You don’t turn around, instead running your fingertips over your skin and through your hair, reveling in the tingles you give yourself.

You hear splashing behind you suddenly and turn to face him, Din stops mid journey out to you in the water- still wearing all his armor. 

“Hey what’re you-“ He cuts himself off with a huff of breath audible through the vocoder.

You walk toward each other, Din molds his hands behind your neck and brings your forehead to where his would be behind his visor in a Keldabe kiss. 

“You are so fucking pretty.”

You close your eyes and shiver at the sheer eroticism of the moment. You reach up and move his hands down to your breasts, asking him to touch you without words. 

His eyes stay on your face as he pinches and pulls at your nipples with his leather covered fingers, you moan at his touch, growing wetter with each second you spend so exposed for him. 

You move your fingers up to run through the loose curls at the bottom of his helmet and he arches his shoulders into your touch, huffing a breath, “I want you.” He whispers.

Running your hands down his chest you respond, “Then come get me.” 

You jerk out of his touch and start for the beach, struggling to push your legs through the water.

He turns instantly and shoots his arm out towards you, at the narrow miss you shriek and push harder, now only a few feet from land. You hold your tits and make for the small patch of trees at the top of the sandy hill the Crest is parked on. When the sounds from behind you turn from sloshing to heavy footfalls you turn, Mando is just seconds behind you and you’re sure to be caught any moment.

In an instant his hand is on your shoulder, and you trip, landing softly on the mossy sand below. He grabs your hands and pins you as you wiggle beneath him, you’re no match for his muscles though, he mounts you and places his weight down where he sits on his knees above your thighs.

“No getting away from me now, C’yare.” His modulator puffs next to your ear. You whine out when he grinds his cock into the cleft of your ass. “Do you want this? . . .  Do you want me?” He continues rubbing against you through his flight suit.

“Mando, please,“

“Finish your thought, Mesh’la,”

You groan into his palm when he turns your head and moves his helmet right down beside your face. “Say it.”

“I- I want you, Din. . . so badly-”

He drawls put a beautiful sound from the back of his throat and scoots down your thighs, pulling your wet underwear with him, “Look at this perfect ass sweet girl,” 

He squeezes your cheeks and spreads them apart, running his first two gloves fingers between your lips and over your asshole. 

You squeal at his boldness, deciding you like it.

You can’t see him, but you feel him lay down behind you, “Don’t turn around-“ and then the unlocking of his helmet. 

He spreads your cheeks again and this time he surprises you when he licks his way through your pussy, you moan for him and he groans in return. The tip of his tongue flicks over your clit and his beautiful angular nose rubs over your entrance, you can’t help but grind back on his face as your hands try to find purchase in the cool ground. 

He moves up further now, licking over your rear entrance and moving his palms over your thighs and sides of your torso, it feels so fucking good to have him like this, desperate to hear you feel pleasure. 

“You want my cock, sweet girl?” He finally relents as you get closer to the edge, sitting back up on his knees. 

“Fuck yes, Din, put it inside me please,”

He moans at your words and licks a line up your spine, letting the breeze give you goosebumps as he frees his cock and notches the tip inside your dripping cunt. 

“Oh baby,” he starts, “Fuck- look at this beautiful pussy,” You back up onto him to finish the job. 

“Ngh- fuck Din, I’m so full-”

He can’t help but start at a fast pace, notching his hands above your hips for leverage. 

“You wore this skimpy little thing for me, showed off your gorgeous tits,” he keeps his pace, “Oh fuck- C’yare.”

You move your hands under your tits to once again massage your nipples and rub your clit down onto the moss underneath you- clenching your pussy around Mando’s cock at the sensation.

He’s pistoning into your cunt so fast, hitting your front wall so perfectly- taking you both to the edge so quickly. 

Your brain conjures the image of how much you wish his skin was rubbing on yours like in the darkness of hyperspace, how much you wish you could see his face. 

“Ohhh fuck, sweet girl- what are you doing to me, what is that?” 

Without noticing, you’d begun using the force to touch him where you’d been imaging- running your fingers over his scalp, down his chest and over his thighs. 

“I’m- not gonna last,” he chokes out. You feel a vibration settle on the hood of your clit and immediately grind back and forth over the stimulants to your body. You catapult over the edge when Din whimpers, “Oh, maker- please-”

Euphoric bliss washes over your brain when orgasm takes you, and Din follows right behind, staying inside to push his spend deeper as you flutter around him. He collapses onto your back and moves his hands up to support himself over you, brushing your hair behind your ears. 

You keep your eyes closed, just in case, and you’re glad you did when he kisses the shell of your ear and groans out, “Thank you, Mesh’la.” 

He leaves you to lay while he replaces his helmet and spreads your legs to clean you with your underwear- then tucks them safely into a pocket on his belt.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin one shot #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mandolorian x you #mandalorian smut #starwars smut

[xcaptain-winterx]

Heyy! I wanted to make a request and I was thinking if it can be something fluffy with aftercare?

with Andy?

List

Andy Barber x reader

summary: above

warnings: bit of smut, fluff, aftercare

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc. I think I did a lot of mistakes in this fic.

Main Masterlist Andy Barber Masterlist

“Oh fuck, Andy!” you scream as he hits your sweet spot again. “I’m going to come!”.

Andy slams into you faster from behind, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Come, baby” Andy says, rubbing your clit with his finger, which is the last push you need to come. Your scream echoes around the room as you milk his cock in your cum.

Andy groans at the warm feeling of your cum and follows soon after. He shivers as he empties his load in you while slowing down his thrusts.

Your head falls forward, too exhausted to keep it up. You hum as Andy slowly lets you two down on the mattress, being careful not to crush you under him. The softness of the mattress against your cheek makes you close your eyes.

Slowly Andy slides his dick out of you, careful not to hurt you, but you still hiss. He says he’s sorry before walking over to the bathroom, leaving you alone to draw a bath.

Once he’s done, he walks back into the bedroom and goes over to your side, shaking you awake. You slowly blink your eyes open and lazily look at your boyfriend.

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you into the bath” he says and carefully picks you up, bridal style. You let out a quiet chuckle as he carries you to the bathroom.

Since you started your relationship, he has always been a gentleman in every slightest way. From opening the door, getting you flowers after work, booking you a spa day to cooking dinner after a long day at work. You already thought this was lovely, but that was before you two had sex for the first time.

The first time you two had sex was after he slept over at your apartment for the first time. He drove there right after work and you two had dinner. Once you two were done and washed the dishes together, you got some wine and sat down on the couch. Soon your soft touching started to turn into more and the next thing you know, you two are in your bedroom naked.

That night you first ever realized how shitty your exes treated you because Andy made you feel like you’re in heaven. The first thing he did was finger your sweet spot, followed by eating you out. He almost came on the spot as you screamed his name as you came. Oh boy, and you weren’t ready for his dick.

Not only did you have the best sex in your entire life that night, but also the best aftercare. This man knows how to give some good aftercare.

Andy told you he made a list with everything a lady needs after she finished after you asked him how he’s so good at giving the perfect aftercare. You laughed before realizing he was serious. Andy really googled what are the best aftercare things and made a list based on those informations.

Oh, how you love this man.

“Do you want me to get with in?” Andy asks you as he carefully lets you down in the tub. You let out a sigh as the warm water swallows your body.

“Yes, please”

Andy smiles and nods as he carefully maneuvers behind you. His hands rest on your stomach, while your head rests against his chest.

“I love you” Andy whispers into your hair. “I love you so much”. You smile lazily up at him, seeing his face upside down.

“I love you too, Honey” you say back. His fingers caress your leg under water, running them over the prints he left on you. A whine leaves your mouth as Andy pushes you off his chest carefully to get out of the tub.

“I’ll just quickly grab you something to eat” Andy says, kissing your hand that is reaching for him. He laughs as you pout.

“Please, hurry then” you say and he nods.

“Don’t miss me too much” he jokes as he walks out of the door, his naked ass being the last thing you see.

It only takes ten minutes before he’s back, carrying a plate with bananas, blueberries, dark chocolate and almonds. He crouches down beside you, putting the plate on a little stool next to the tub. You sit up and look at everything.

“You really know how to spoil a woman. This looks so good” you grab an almond and place it in your mouth “mhmm”.

“I’m happy you like it, baby” he says, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world because you are to him. The moment he met you, he knew you were his forever. There wasn’t a moment of doubt that you two weren’t meant for each other. Andy wants to wake up next to you every morning till forever.

“I think it should be a law” Andy says, after some minutes of silence.

“Huh?”

“The list” he answers, “that everyone has to give their partner an aftercare which includes the things on the list”.

You chuckle, “You want a law that says that?”.

“Yes, only the best for the best” he says laughing, but not showing any signs that he is kidding.

“Well” you lean over the side of the tub to grab your boyfriend’s face and kiss him passionately, “I would follow that law”.

#chris evans #andy x reader #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x female reader