Husband

forever

the way my tire popped after an already miserable day thank you universe ☹️

wip...?

thinking many thoughts ab robert “bob” floyd

You felt his hand fall to your forearm as he turned you back to face him. He didn’t say anything as his gaze moved from your eyes to your lips and back. His silence continued as he leaned forward and connected your lips again. This time it was intentional, slow, and made butterflies creep up your stomach. He reached for you as you reciprocated the kiss. One hand in your hair, thumb resting on your cheek, the other searching for your waist. You held the front of his shirt, scared to let him go, and deepened the affair, sliding your tongue along his bottom lip. He gladly accepted and slowly yet fiercely slid his own into your mouth. The kiss continued and your hands slid along his front and ended in his hair, gripping. He released a quiet moan as you did and without breaking the kiss he stood from his own stool and trapped you against the bar. Your back dug into the bartop as you moaned back into his mouth and his hands slid down to your hips, squeezing. Had your phone not interrupted, you’re sure it would have continued to escalate that very night. He released you with a sigh, and you kept your eyes closed for just a moment longer. You slowly peeled them open and Bob groaned at the sensuality of it all. He huffed a small laugh and a blush covered his face as he scratched the back of his neck, perhaps in insecurity at his previous actions.

danny walker is THE blueprint

The Gallows (Hangman x Fem!reader)

Summary: They call you Angel, sometimes you wonder if “of death” was too long. When tasked to join the best of the best, you are forced to confront your past.

Warning’s: descriptions of injuries (reader is a medic), mentions of sexual content, semi-steamy?,cursing, mentions of sibling death, ptsd (the reader and Hangman both have shared trauma), alcohol consumption

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“Call sign: Angel”

It sounded like a nails of a cat clinging to a chalkboard, slowly, painstakingly trailing down the black slate, dragging each syllable out like a taunt. An-gel. 

The office felt stuffy, like one of those old silver-screen detective films your grandma would make you watch whenever you visited for Christmas, though there was nothing comforting or warm about it. 

Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson is across from you, flipping through your entire naval career in a package of papers. “Quite an impressive portfolio you have here.”

“Admiral Kazansky vouched quite heavily for you. I don’t know if that should delight or terrify me.” he sighs, scanning through the pages without so much as looking up at you. “You’ll be working under the command of Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, I’m sure you’ve heard about him.”

Slapping the folder down, Cyclone rises from his seat with the the sound of leather creasing and wheels rolling against the linoleum. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the debriefing room, maybe you’ll be good at keeping Maverick…grounded.”

Keep reading

help why can i sit and read on tumblr for hours on end and just read 10 pages of a physical book and needed a break 🫠

if 33 year old british man, why so babygirl?

this awakened something in me and i don’t think i can ever go back

Monkeys