#hot damn sweaty evans

[oeuvrinarydurian]

The “It’s Too Hot For Tux Tuesday” Tux Tuesday edition.

Endeavour: Canticle

[jessieren]

Does this count as a fidget??

Gotta love a man that likes dogs…

[rosyhoneydew]

Bucktommy sickfic | G | 722 words

When Evan sits up around 5:50 Tommy knows he's given up on trying to fall back asleep. He's been tossing and turning for the last hour or so, and trying his best to muffle the sounds of his coughing in the pillows, with little success.

Tommy rolls over and leans up on an elbow, rubbing at Evan's back. He's got a faraway look on his face like his head's feeling slightly fuzzy.

"You feeling okay?"

Evan sniffles and clears his throat lightly. "Yeah." It comes out like a croak and Tommy winces in sympathy. His voice sounds raw and creaky, and not just because it's the first he's spoken all morning.

This isn't really a surprise. Chim had warned the two of them about cold and flu season starting up at Jee's school - not that it ever really ended - so they'd known they were bound to pick up something with all the baking they'd been doing together. Tommy can't wait to have kids, hopefully someday soon, but the germiness will take some getting used to.

Tommy gets up fully, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. He moves to head out into the hallway.

"I think I've got some NyQuil still, it's the capsules though… you're good with swallowing pills, right?"

"Uh, wait, that'll just-" he cuts himself off with a coughing fit. It's dry, but it sounds painful. It's the kind that takes him a minute to get under control again. "That'll just make me more tired," he gets out eventually. "I've got a shift in a few hours."

Not like this, you don't.

"Evan…"

"Tommy," he throws back, petulant.

He and Evan have been together just under a year now. They've been living together for 3 months. They've said 'I love you' and talked about marriage; and if there's any one thing Tommy has learned in this time, it's that his boyfriend wouldn't willingly take a day off work if he were on his deathbed.

He sighs and pauses in the doorway. "Alright, why don't you call Bobby when he's up," he suggests. "See what he has to say about you going in this morning. I'll get you some medicine in case you change your mind."

"Fine," Evan concedes the point, reaching for his phone.

Tommy shakes his head, smiling a little at Evan's stubbornness. He makes his way to the kitchen, snaps off a packet of the blue gel-filled pills, and fills a glass with water from the fridge. It's still dark out, but it's starting to get the kind of green-gray hue of morning light, so he takes just a minute to peek out the window at it.

He's still standing there when he hears footsteps plodding behind him. He gets about a twenty-second heads up before Evan thunks his head onto the center of Tommy's back.

"You get a hold of him?"

"I'm not even that sick," Evan groans. He follows it up with a large, wet sniff that betrays his statement.

Tommy hums and reaches back to thread his fingers in Evan's hair, twisting his head to lay a quick kiss on his temple, contagion be damned. His skin feels hot and Tommy revisits his task of getting some meds in him to break the mild fever and hopefully let him get a little more rest. Thankfully, with the hopes of work dashed, he swallows them down without complaint, nibbling on a few crackers to settle his stomach too.

"Go lay back down, sweetheart, I'll be right there," Tommy says when he's finished.

Evan grumbles a bit but heads back to the bedroom. He's a little wobbly on his feet, and still soft-looking from bed. Tommy can't help but get distracted watching him. There's a fondness that's been present in his chest since they first got together, and it swells in him now. It's almost alarming, the way that it can take his breath away in these moments. Once he hears Evan settle back into bed he shakes himself and clears the counter.

When he enters the bedroom he finds Evan asleep already, snoring softly. He can't help but drop another kiss on his sweaty forehead, thinking of how lucky he feels to be the one caring for this man. In sickness and in health, he thinks and slips under the covers.

-

Happy first day of November! My goal this month is to write at least 2k words every day, so here's the first 700+ I wrote: a teensy tiny BT ficlet.

[jessieren]

Having woken up to @sircolinmorgan Gwen/Morse post I formally declare today…

Snarky Little Shit Sunday

LOVE a bit of Morse snark and he’s generally hot when he’s snarky so you know… win win as far as I’m concerned

Do you best worst team..

[wisedelusionalmarshmallow]

@rosekillermicrofic, July 30th - Eyeliner, T, Word Count - 442

CW: underage drinking

Evan wasn’t big on parties. He would make an appearance, have a few drinks, then call it a night. You wouldn’t find him on the dance floor or with a partner upstairs; he would just stumble back to his dorm, slightly tipsy and exhausted.

Of course, all his friends had other ideas. Which is why he's sat himself on a couch in the common room, waiting.

After a good twenty minutes of waiting for them to show up, Evan decided to call it a night. He’s already had a White Rat whisky shot and was roped into trying some berry-flavored cocktails; all he wants to do is go to his dorm and sleep.

He places the glass down on the table and stands up from the couch he settled himself on for the night.

Then he falls right back down because he spots Barty.

Barty, his best friend, his ride or die, his long-time crush, was hot already. In the school uniform, out of the school uniform. When he looked half-asleep or when he was hyped on caffeine.

But Merlin must be tempting him tonight. Trying to give Evan a damn heart attack because in strolls Barty, looking like a dream.

He was wearing mesh– mesh and, wait, is that body glitter? Oh, fucking hell. And he’s already sweaty with how hot the common room is, and he’s walking straight over to the couch. Is that a belly button piercing? When the hell did he get that done? His nails are painted, and none of them have chipped yet. And oh. Eyeliner.

Barty. Was. Wearing. Eyeliner.

Evan snapped out of his trance, realizing that Barty was now right in front of him. He’d been staring for so long that he forgot that he was moving. Barty probably watched as Evan nearly drooled as he made his way towards him.

“Hey Rosie,” Barty smiles. Merlin, is that lip gloss too?

It was like everything had stopped working in Evan’s head. He couldn’t help it, though, not when Barty looked that good. Wait, how long has he been staring? Shit, he needs to respond. Uh um.

“Hot,” he breathes. “Wait, uh, hi, um. You look hot. Not just the word. Um.”

Barty smirks at Evan’s stuttering. “I saw you were getting a little bored. Mind if I join you?”

Getting up from the couch once more, Evan wipes his sweaty palms on his pants. “Yes. And by that, I mean, no. Like, I don’t mind—”

“Let’s save the words for after,” Barty teases, placing his hand on the small of Evan’s back as they head to the dance floor.

Nodding, Evan agrees. “Good idea.”

[fandomfluffandfuck]

I'd attend Professor Evans class any night day of the week 😮‍💨😮‍💨

I think you and Archie (@whiteglovemanor) are on the same wavelength with Chris today, lmao, like:

#fucking hell #this is just obscene #chris evans #asp #gifset #professor evans

And I COULDN'T AGREE MORE.

There's no real reason for them to know each other, it's a large university with a beautiful, sprawling campus and a wide diversity of higher education students, and they specialize in completely separate disciplines. Professor Stan is one of the leading instructors for the acting department, he's charismatic and willing to be loud and silly to illustrate his point and scene, yet he's quiet and soft-spoken otherwise, drawing his students in to listen closer and gather all they can from him; Professor Evans is a part of the political science department on the other side of campus, loud and forthcoming in his lectures, unashamed, and endlessly passionate about his job that spills into activism, pushing his students lovingly into community service, politics, and the like on campus and off.

So, they clearly shouldn't cross paths--even at full-faculty functions in the university's largest buildings for banquets, they have no real reason to mingle with so many options for staff members to talk to. And they certainly shouldn't be seeing each other so late after hours on school grounds.

But they are.

And Professor Evans has haphazardly divested Professor Stan of his clothes, pulling his dress shirttails from his slacks and ripping open the buttons to plunge his hands beneath the tight fabric of his undershirt, pushing it up to get to his warm, smooth skin that is getting sweatier and sweatier with every passing minute they spend alone together.

Professor Stan's dress shirt is entirely wrinkled and hanging off of his shoulders. The long sleeves of his button-up shirt were once rolled up but now they have come undone and are falling over his shaking hands as they clutch desperately at Professor Evans' broad shoulders swathed in an obscenely fitted polo shirt, trying to hang on. It's hard to hang on when his palms are so sweaty and unsteady but it's also so hard with Professor Evans' cock plunging deeply into and drawing thickly out of him. He has no focus. He needn't focus--Professor Evans is doing all the work, holding them both up, having shoved Professor Stan against the wall in his private office and then shoving into him.

Jesus Christ.

It feels so good.

When this started tonight, the other instructor had impatiently unbuckled their belts and left them hanging around their waists for easier access. Then, his big, huge hands were so hot on Professor Stan's skin, squeezing him, groping him, holding him up valiantly--stubbornly as he shoved and tugged Professor Stan's slacks and underwear down to just below the curve of his ass before curling his fingers into the pocket of his own slacks, locating the discrete packet of lube waiting for its moment to be lathered, glistening like liquid, molten glass, over Professor Evans' thick, capable fingers. His fingers and all that slippery lube used to pry Professor Stan's tight body open.

He was opened, stretched, and filled with fingers too good at finding his sweet spot and pressing against it until Professor Stan was melting, flaming licking up his lithe thighs splayed around Professor Evans' trim waist to the small of his back to the nape of his neck. He was burning up. His body couldn't decide between letting his neck go limp so his head would lull back--hair a frantic, ruffled mess and mouth gaped stupidly wide--or having his neck curl forward and hiding his feverish blush in the hot space between Professor Evans' formidable shoulder and thick neck. Then, Professor Evans was ripping open his fly and working to roll a condom onto that glorious, big dick that he packs in his unfairly figure-hugging (and what a figure it is, fuck) pants every damn day, walking around like that. He coated himself in slick, messy, and--

Guh.

After that, after he gets his dick in him, Professor Stan really isn't holding himself up.

He's gone.

Professor Evans has him corned, pressed, pinned, shoved against the wall of his office and he's fucking him so good with all of his gym-honed strength and well-earned patience that would be admirable of any politician locked in a debate, not just a man hellbent on making his colleague cum before him.

His dick, thick and so fucking nice to clench down on, is hitting that spot inside Professor Stan that fucks high, little ah, ah, ah!s out of his mouth. Those're the only things that will come out of Professor Stan. He can't be muffled, he's gone limp, and Professor Evans is otherwise using his hands to viciously hold onto him, biting bruises into his waist and ass. And, shockingly, Professor Evans biting his jaw and plush lower lip doesn't do anything but make those sweet sounds come out more shrill and needy--it's like he likes that or something.

[jessieren]

This scene… he switches from completely closed to emotional download in 3 seconds flat

Maybe someone’s trying to tell me something. “Go West, young man.” Or south.

[ilyregulus]

Lay All Your Love On Me – Jegulus

summary: regulus gets drunk at a party and confess his feelings to james at a karaoke

warnings: underage driking, sexual talk and mentions of sex (but no actual sex). i guess that's all

word count: 2k

notes: just a random thought i had while listening to abba and got carried away. as always, sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language and i hope you like it :)

Regulus was not happy to be present at a Gryffindor party, to be honest there were methods of torture he would enjoy more. Being surrounded by happy and loud people was like living hell but if there's one thing Regulus would do, it was walk through hell for those he loved, so there he was: at a noisy and sweaty Gryffindor party, because Dorcas asked him to.

There were not a lot of people who he loved, but Dorcas Meadowes was certainly one of them. She had been dating Marlene for a while now and thought it was a good idea to bring their groups together, so now they all had to go to the same idiot party, because apparently it was a really fun idea. Regulus couldn't disagree more, infact, it took a really long time for her, Barty and Evan to convince him of going, but again, he would do a lot for his friends so eventually he said yes.

"Think about the pros of being here, Reg" Dorcas said to him "You can watch James for a whole night or maybe more than just watch this time"

"I really hate that I told you about that" he rolled his eyes as if his crush weren't obvious for everyone who knew him.

"Stop being so grumpy" she protest while grabbing his arms "C'mon, let's get you a drink"

"Fine, guess I'll need it to survive this night anyway" Regulus followed her.

He was already on his third drink when he decided to lean against the wall to avoid being so surrounded by the amount of people who seemed to not know what personal space was. He knew it was a party, but do people really need to be that close to each other?

And that was when their eyes met.

James was charming, to say the least, because Regulus thought much more of him. He thought about the way those stupid Gryffindor colors seemed to light James' skin or about the way he desperately wanted to crave his fingers on his strong arms or how it felt to kiss his lips. There was so much Regulus thought about doing with James that he even felt ridiculous about it.

Sure, he knew James was always full of himself and acting like he was a damn king, which was kind of annoying sometimes but oh...to Regulus he really was a king and how he would give to be ruled by him.

"You know..." Barty started saying, catching Regulus, who didn't even noticed when he got there, by surprise "you don't need to just keep staring"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

"We are all friends now and well, you and Potter had already talked a lot of times"

It was almost funny to him how his friends thought this was simple, sure they talked a few times but it was just some casual chatting because Regulus knew how to be polite when he wanted to and they were all really trying to have a good relationship so that’s not like he was going to ignore James when they bumped into each other but it was not that easy, what was he supposed to do? Go out there and simply declare he was obsessed with the idea of kissing him?

"I'm not talking to him" was what he answered.

"Well, too bad for you cause he is coming that way, and must I add, he does look hot"

Regulus knew that Barty said that last sentence in the kindest and friendliest way possible, he had absolutely no reason to worry or be jealous of him because he knew his best friend was crazy about his boyfriend Evan, but still he felt like jealousy was eating him alive because even though Barty wouldn't try to steal James from him anyone else could, and the thought of someone getting near those muscles and that flirty smile that were supposed to be his was driving him crazy.

“Enjoying the party?” James kindly asked when he approached him.

“Yeah, sure” Regulus said, taking a sip of his drink.

“You don't talk much, do you Black?” his last name looked incredible on those lips, it felt like James had just resignified it, and Regulus could kill to hear him saying it again but with a raspy voice and in bed this time.

“I guess not” he was actually feeling a little shy which was weird because he never felt like that.

“Well, you should because I like talking to you” and when he said that he sounded kinda flirty so Regulus was probably imagining things, right?

“Ok.. so what do you wanna talk about?” oh he was failing so miserably at this it felt embarrassing.

“What music do you like?”

“Classic ones that I can play on piano” he thought he was imagining things when he saw James looking at his hands but then he answered like it was a really normal thing to say.

“You play piano? That’s nice and what else do those pretty hands do?”

Regulus almost choked on his drink.

Those words sounded so dirty in his ears that he felt his entire body shiver, and who knew James Potter was that naughty? And what did that meant? Because Regulus knew that James and his friends flirted as a joke so was that a joke? Was that James' way of showing they were now friends? Or was this his way of showing that they could be more? That he also wanted to feel Regulus' hands exploring his body like the temple it was? Because Regulus sure wanted that but how would he know what James meant if he didn't have the balls to ask?

“Guess you have to find out” he said with all the courage he had inside of, trying his best to sound sexy but at the same time like it could be a joke so this way he could play safe.

James' eyes went from Regulus’ eyes to his hands and then stopped a little on his mouth before going back to meet his eyes again and Regulus swore he saw lust on them. He knew that boy was going to be the end of him.

“Do you have someone?” James asked as he gently ran his finger over the open space in Regulus' shirt upon his chest. But Regulus Black couldn't give in like that, it would be so pathetic of him.

“What do you mean?” Regulus said trying to act normal with what was happening.

“Well, all your best friends are dating and I noticed that you sometimes escape in the middle of the night but I’ve never really seen you with someone else so I was wondering” he explained.

“Oh…no, I'm only committed to smoking.” he kinda laughed and James thought that might be sexy to watch, but he kept that to himself which was a shame because Regulus would love to have heard that.

“I'm not seeing anyone either and in case you want to know ABBA’s my favorite band” and with that he left, leaving Regulus with a smirk.

How could he do that and why would Regulus give a fuck about ABBA right now? James was torturing him and it was definitely not in the way he wanted him to.

He was about to go nuts because he has just flirted with James fucking Potter but then was left behind like it meant nothing and feeling completely out of system while James was already having fun with a group of boys who Regulus recognised some from quidditch.

“I may or may not have overheard a few things and I think you might need this” Barty said, giving him a glass of firewhisky which he thanked and quickly asked for more.

“C'mon Regulus” said Evan “you can't just keeping getting drunk without doing nothing about it, the boy clearly wants you”

“And why hasn't he said that or made a fucking move himself?”

“Because you can be scary as fuck, Black” Barty added “and if even I think that imagine the smiley little Potter”

“I bet there's nothing little about him” he thought out loud.

“For fuck sakes Regulus, go find out” Barty sounded impatient.

But how would he even do that? James was surrounded by his teammates and Regulus was not going to get there and take him by his shirt, kissing him in the middle of everyone. Although he would really like that. So while he took another shot of firewhisky he decided to do what anyone else would (except that he was fucking drunk by now and no one else would do that).

He went to the middle of the party and took the microphone that Marlene and Remus had just finished using and got on top of a table so he could be sure James was looking at him. And with all eyes on him Regulus mentally thanked for all the times his own friends and brother danced to ABBA and started to sing and as weird as it seems he felt like the lyrics were written by him.

"I wasn't jealous before we met, now every man that I see is a potential threat. And I'm possessive, it isn't nice, you've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice. But now it isn't true, now everything is new and all I've learned, has overturned, I beg of you. Don't go wasting your emotion...Lay all your love on me"

Even though his body couldn't move not even a little bit, Regulus sang all the words like he was meaning them with all his truth and James seemed to get that because since he got on that table the boy couldn't take his eyes of him and he was looking with such an adoration, loving every single second of it that Regulus felt embraced by confidence and desire.

"It was like shooting a sitting duck, a little small talk, a smile, and baby, I was stuck. I still don't know what you've done with me, a grown-up man* should never fall so easily. I feel a kind of fear, when I don't have you near. Unsatisfied. I skip my pride. I beg you dear. Don't go wasting your emotion. Lay all your love on me. Don't go sharing your devotion...Lay all your love on me."

By that time James was already jumping on the table to sing with him and Regulus felt like he was confessing everything he ever wanted though the music. Because that was it, he didn't want James to share his devotion, he wanted to be worshiped by him every day, to have the word "mine" being said by James' lips and to be the one to whom he would give all his dirty looks. He wanted the lust and he wanted the love and he wanted this to be with James because there was no other man who could light a dark room with his smile.

When the song ended James had his hands on each side of Regulus' waist, their face just inches from touching and everyone in the room was a mix of shock and applause.

“So what was that about?” James asked softly.

“I guess it was my way of telling you that I really want you to find out what else my pretty hands can do” he said loud enough for only James to hear.

“Can I kiss you first?” one of his hands was now holding Regulus' face.

“In front of everyone? Are you crazy?”

“You were the one who told me to lay all my love on you and blah blah blah…so can I?”

In Regulus defense his was drunk as hell and there's only so far a man can handle, when it came to James that wasn't much because he felt like he was already melting on his hand, so Regulus counted on everyone else to be as drunk as he was to not care about it that much and nodded in a yes.

And when James' lips touched his he felt like all the embarrassment he had just passed was worth it. He would do it all over again if he needed to because for James there was nothing Regulus wouldn't do.

[kiss-theggoat]

The Ghost with the Most

The Ghost (Mitch) x Reader (Haunt 2019)

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: You and your friends decide on an “extreme” haunted house, and you’re not excited, until you meet a certain charming Ghost.

Warnings: Porn with the tiniest little bit of plot, quickie, you get fucked while your friends are dying, Mitch has a dirty mouth,

“Bailey calm down… Angela got the bleeding to stop and I’m going to go get someone to let us out okay?” You soothed Bailey, who had three sizable slices up her wrist. She was pale, sweaty, and leaning against the wall, tears rolling down her cheek every once and a while. Angela had ripped part of her costume off, wrapping it right around the wounds to slow the breathing.

Evan turned to you quickly, “You’re leaving?”

“Well what else are we supposed to do Evan? Stay here until she bleeds out?” You started looking for a way out, wondering what was behind the fence and curtains. The door you had come through was closed, but another had opened in its absence. “There has to be another actor up ahead…wait here.”

You walked through the doorway, despite the pleas that you stay. Bailey’s injury has everyone on edge, but you don’t understand the issue…accidents happen, even at haunted houses.

“Hello?” You called out, finally turning into another room. The room had an ominous blue tint, sheet covered mannequins covering every square inch. You yelped as fog sprayed up towards you through a grate in the floor, but then you laughed, thinking how stupid you must’ve looked getting scared by fog.

“Hello? Is there someone here? Our friend…she got hurt back there, she’s bleeding, we need out.” You announced. A loud bang sounded from the hallway you’d come from, followed by a scream, causing you to turn your entire body towards the door. This had you alarmed, even though you were sure it was just a planned scare, because your friends weren’t having fun anymore.

“You said someone’s hurt?”

You whipped around to the source of the smooth voice. A ghost, shrouded in what looked like pounds of fabric. “Yes, I’m sorry. She’s cut, she’s bleeding.”

“Hold on..” he said, beginning to walk to the door behind him.

“I uhm…I told them I’d go back with help…” you said meekly, still feeling sort of bad for interrupting the whole show. His body froze, then turned slowly to face you.

He nodded a little, “Let me get something…”

You stared at the ghostly figure, thinking that he must be handsome beneath his mask. His voice was so smooth and silky, and he was tall. Maybe the fabric was adding to the bulk, but he seemed much bigger than you. Masks have usually been your thing, maybe that was it. Keys jangled on his belt as gloved hands grabbed and pushed his drapery away from his waist, revealing a trim waistline and nice legs.

You took a deep breath and walked forward towards him. “Uhm…what are you grabbing…exactly…?”

His hands froze on the doorknob and the hollow eyes of his mask bore into your soul. “My other set of keys… I only have the keys to this half of the maze on me.”

You nodded, staring down at his key ring. Your eyes must’ve lingered for too long on his lower body because he cleared his throat, still facing you. He dropped the key in his hand, letting it jangle back down to his hip. “What’s your name?” He asked softly.

Nervously, you told him your name. You didn’t know why he was asking, but you damn sure weren’t going to not answer the hot masked stranger. He took a step closer, engulfing you completely in the white fabric of his cloak and the musky smell of his cologne, which had a slight undertone of something unpleasant, but you didn’t mind.

He said your name, as if testing how it sounded in his mouth. He reached forward, grabbing with a large gloved hand the bottom of the cropped shirt of your Halloween getup. “I like your costume…”

He tugged at the shirt a little, before flattening his palm on the skin of your hip. You felt yourself turn red, but decided that this was your chance. Every other thing you needed to worry about right now just evaporated into thin air. You took a small step forward as well, putting your hand on top of his.

In a blur, his right hand was tangled in the roots of your hair, tugging hard to spin you around, left hand right on your hip, holding you flush against him.

A surprised squeak left your lips at the sudden and confident action. One of his hands was still yanking on your hair, making your head fall back to expose your neck, the other hand moving from your hip to the center of your pelvis.

The force he spun you with surprised you, and before you knew it you were sandwiched between his ghostly figure and the wall. The fog from the grate hissed again, surrounding you both in a baleful cloud. Even through his shroud, you could feel how hard he was pushing his hips against yours, making your hips jut painfully into the cold metal wall.

“Such a slut.” He growled, hands fumbling with the button to your shorts. “Waltzing in here dressed like this…coming onto me…all while your friends are still waiting for you…”

A pang of guilt tore through your stomach. Your friends were currently scared, injured, and waiting for you to bring some sort of assistance, and you were too distracted by the Ghost that you completely abandoned them.

He yanked your shorts and underwear down hard, but only about to your mid thigh. The feeling of his gloves against your skin as he pulled up your shirt to run his hands over your exposed chest made you shiver and groan.

“Or maybe that’s what you want…huh? You want them to walk in on you getting fucking railed by some dude you just met.” The shroud he wore tickled your back as he hiked it up over you, finally giving you contact with something other than the strange fabric. You felt his jeans against your bare thighs, belt buckle pressing uncomfortably between his leg and the back of your knee.

Desperation overwhelmed your senses and you nodded for him, even though you didn’t want your friends to know what you were up to. He didn’t warn you, but with a loud groan, he slides inside of you. You barely need any adjusting, immediately you could feel the low simmer of pleasure in your belly.

Nothing could phase you. The feeling of the Ghost, a man who you’d just met, never seen his face, didn’t even know his damn name, fucking you up against a wall, erased every other thought in your mind. The feeling of him pressed against you, thrusting into you hard and needy, was almost too much to handle. You reached back and grabbed onto his hands, which were holding on for dear life at your hips.

“Holy shit…if I knew…sluts that come through this place felt like this…I’da fucked ‘em a lot sooner…” He groaned. The thought of him making this a thing excited you. Maybe you’d come back next year to see him again.

You moaned, loudly, surely loud enough for everyone to hear you, but you’d stopped caring.

“Mitch.” He moaned.

You craned your neck, confused. “What?”

His eyes were glued to where you were connected. “My name is Mitch. Say it.”

You followed orders, letting his name roll off your tongue in a pleasure-drunken stupor. You could feel yourself tightening around him, nails scraping at the wall you were squished against.

“Mitch…” you whimpered, “I…I’m gonna cum..”

“Awe already? I was having so much fun…” he leaned his head back, fully enjoying the sensation of you losing it on his cock. You came hard with him buried inside you, jaw dropping and eyes rolling back, legs struggling to hold you up.

“So fucking tight…” he grabbed your hair again, pulling your head back so he could say directly in your ear, “I’m gonna cum inside you, whether you want me to or not.”

You swore he was trying to kill you. You felt him push against you hard, forcing your cheek painfully against the wall. The sensation of warmth spilling inside you was enough to make you cum a second time, loud wails escaping your throat as you twitched and convulsed from the overwhelming pleasure. You both stood there panting, you were laying against the wall and Mitch was laying against you. The fact that your legs were trembling and about to give out any second didn’t help.

A few minutes later, you realized…you’d abandoned an injured, bleeding person in order to have sex with a complete stranger. You felt like the worst person in the world at this moment, and as guilt overtook you, you slowly pushed back against him to get your distance. “I…I really should…uhm….get back to my friends, I’m sure they’re worried sick…”

What you didn’t see was that in the other rooms of the haunted maze, two of your friends lay dead and bloodied, the rest sure to meet the same fate within the hour. But Mitch wasn’t about to let you go that easy…he thinks, no, he knows, you’d fit in wonderfully at this attraction.

Mitch whispered, “I’m sure they don’t know a thing…”

A/N: Haunt is criminally underrated, please give it a watch and understand my obsession for this ghost man

[evanbuckleykinnie]

Buck was fairly certain he was dying.

Not in a choking on bread, crushed by a ladder truck, struck by lightning sort of way but in an incredibly mundane one.

His stomach hurt.

It hurt a lot, actually. So badly he could barely make himself move. He was hot, cold, sweaty, shivering. Every part of him felt wrong, something tingling weirdly in his forearms and his joints aching. He was dying. And where was Eddie?

"I told you, Evan."

Buck groaned, pressing his face into the damp pillow beneath him. He'd been hearing this over and over again for the better part of ten minutes now. It wasn't like Eddie was wrong or like he had any particular reason to be being all that helpful, but Buck wished he'd at least sit down for a moment. Footsteps, slow and pacing, were rhythmically driving the acidic nausea feeling up from his stomach and into his chest. Any longer and he'd be forced up and into the bathroom, face half submerged in the toilet as he puked up his guts.

"You're lactose intolerant. You say you're not, but you are. I hate to break it to you, buddy, but you're gonna have to give up on the damn cheese and milk." There was a certain type of amusement in Eddie's voice that, quite frankly, Buck found insulting. He was in the middle of a medical emergency. A crisis, really. "You did this to yourself, man. I told you not to eat that pizza."

Buck couldn't do much but grumble into his pillow, something unintelligible but definitely not polite. Eddie had, in all fairness, told him not to eat the pizza. He'd watched Buck take a bite out of the slice of cheesy goodness with a look on his face he only wore on calls involving ridiculous self-inflicted injuries. Buck should have known he'd get no sympathy as wide, brown eyes glared daggers into his skull. The smugness he'd smiled at Eddie with two hours ago was no more than a horrible display of hubris now.

Buck hadn't been lactose intolerant when he was a child. He hadn't known anyone in the Buckley family who was lactose intolerant. There was absolutely no reason for him, now in his early thirties, to suddenly develop it. No hereditary reason, anyway. Besides, Maddie had never said anything about being unable to enjoy cheese and ice cream and milkshakes. Why would he be the one to get the faulty genetics?

In reality, Buck knew he was in denial. He knew for a fact that lactose intolerance could strike at any time, at any age. All it took was a bad enough injury to the small intestine and his ability to make the lactase enzyme would be sufficiently decreased enough to land him right where he was. With his track record of injuries and near death experiences, he had no doubts it was possible something had been knocked off kilter inside him, as much as he wanted to deny it. After all, what was life without cheese and ice cream?

"Could you shut up?" Buck finally managed to groan out, voice muffled by his pillow and strained by the effort it took to speak around how sick he felt. Really, though, he was going to be fine. It wasn't intense. It wasn't life-threatening. It just sucked. Big time. "Are you staying just- just to get in the 'I told you so's?"

There's silence from behind him for a few moments before his bed dips, a warm hand resting against his bicep. He doesn't uncurl himself from his fetal position to glance back at Eddie but he hums a quiet acknowledgement of their sudden close proximity. Despite how sick he feels, and how frustrated he is, it's nice to not be alone in it. Even if he knows Eddie has more complaining to do, though he senses that it's been tabled for a later date. Despite his fatherly disposition of lecturing, Eddie always knows when to stop. Thankfully.

"No. I'm staying to make sure you don't make yourself worse by trying to walk this off." Eddie's voice took on the tone it rarely held for anyone but Buck, soft and tender and so very fond in a way Buck couldn't quite wrap his head around. "You'll be fine. But we're looking into lactase tablets or something when you're better."

Two days later, after the whole ordeal passes, Buck ascends the stairs in the firehouse to the smell of something wonderful cooking. Not a rare thing to experience but, as he reaches the table where everyone is sat expectantly, he finds himself faced with two objects. Chim has a grin on his face like he's attempting to audition for the role of the Cheshire Cat, while Hen is snickering to herself quietly at the confused look Buck shoots the items. A hand claps him on the back from behind.

"We thought we'd get you a few things." Eddie says as he walks past, sitting himself down, gesturing towards the items on the table.

With a look of unimpressed indignation, Buck reaches out to pick up the shirt, reading the plainly written words on the otherwise completely blank fabric.

"Tummy Ache Survivor."

He drops the shirt back onto the table, Bobby walking over to place a plate down at the empty seat meant for him. Whatever he's made looks good. Bobby taps the other object, smile knowing and amused.

"Thought we'd start using this. I've got a copy here, this is for home." Bobby makes his way back to the pan he'd left to join the fun.

Buck finally picks up the book, turning it over in his hands. A cookbook full of vegan recipes. Despite his annoyance at the teasing, the corner of his mouth pulls up into a small smile, a laugh leaving him despite his attempts to remain somewhat frustrated looking. Even with all of the teasing, the small gesture feels kind. Warm.

"Very funny.." He sits, placing the cookbook down as everyone else gets their own food. He takes a bite, humming happily as he opens up the book to flip through the first few pages.

Maybe being lactose intolerant wasn't so humiliating after all.

[jessieren]

How have I missed this beauty for a few weeks... Happy Monday y'all

Oh... and Hello Handsome

Happy Monday!

[bucktommyscones]

♦️✨️!

Thank you!!

♦️ Tommy Kinard's no good, terrible bad day (bucktommy)

Prev snippet here

They're down two team members, one on vacation and one due to a stomach bug. Lucy has been ranting in his ear about the latest episode of Love Island for the last ten minutes but God, he doesn't care. Normally he gets a kick out of Lucy's views on reality television but he's tired, stressed and damn it, there goes the alarm again.

✨Gerrard fic (bucktommy)

Tommy thinks Evan looks hot like this, sweaty, hands taped and punching the pads Tommy's got attached to his hands as Evan hits right, left, right, left and rants. Too bad this rant is about a man who made Tommy's days at the 118 his most miserable days in the closet.

"I don't know how much more I can handle," Evan pants out with one more hit.

[sluttyhusband]

I can’t remember if it was you but I remember reading a mini fict about Evans and Henry where they get all steamy after Henry’s been on a run and is all sweaty. If it was you could you tag me in it I can’t find it? 😊🥰

That wasn’t me I’m sorry :(

But if you do find it, tag me too cuz damn that sounds hot 🌚

[oeuvrinarydurian]

He can wear anything or nothing. He’s just that versatile.



We had a really hot day today, but now dusk has fallen, the heat has somewhat eased, and to cool down, you can have a cold beer …

[ramp-it-up]

How I Married Your Mother Pt. 2

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Fluff, Angst, Woman on top, pregnancy symptoms, creampie, pregnancy test, discussion of keeping the baby, ultrasound.

A/N: I needed a wholesome break from the sin that is The Bar Au 🥵, well as wholesome as smut can be? Anyway, I struggled to make this shorter, but finally gave in to the length. There will just have to be a part three. 🤗Dividers by @firefly-graphics​. I’ve been going through a lot this week, so I hope you enjoy!

Read How I Married Your Mother, Pt 1, This is Part of the How I Met Your Father Series found here.

Smut under the cut.

I no longer have a taglist.

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

As you rode Chris you felt electric.

Your thighs were sore from tensing up, because every time you moved your hips, the drag of his long, thick cock your walls sparked fire.

You panted and looked down on him as he looked at where you two were connected. Those fucking eyelashes cast long shadows on his cheeks and his mouth was open, gasping for breath at how good you were fucking himself on him.

You put your hand on one of his pecs, tracing your thumb against his nipple. Chris’s mouth opened wider.

“Fuck Angel. Didn’t know that you missed me that much…shit! Fucking yourself so good on this cock.. Pussy so wet. And sooo fucking tight.”

One of Chris’ hands reached for your clit, and the other hand grasped your breast.

“Fuck, Chris! Your dick feels sooo damn good inside me.”

Your thighs trembled as you moved faster, the stimulation from Chris’ hands spurring you on. He brushed your nipple with his thumb. It was so sensitive that you moaned loudly, so he did it again, causing you to clench and grind down on his cock.

“So fucking responsive for me. Shit!”

Chris moved the hand that working your clit and slapped your ass.

“Ride me cowgirl!”

He continued rubbing your nipple and sat up to lick it. The. He breathed up into your face as his eyes held yours. His deep voice caused you to shiver.

“You’re about to milk my cock for all that it’s worth.”

And he leaned down and softly suckled your breast. That and those blue eyes entrancing you made you throw your head back as you came violently round him.

Chris tilted you back onto the bed and ponded you until he reached his end, spurting cum into your clenching hot cunt. You could swear that you felt every pulse and shot against your walls and cervix.

“Holy fuck, that was hot!” He kissed your sweaty forehead. “God I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” You started giggling.

“But ride me cowgirl? How are you so sexy but such a dork?”

You smiled into Chris’s eyes as he lay stroking your side, chuckling with happiness.

“What can I say? it's my superpower.”

You smirked at him.

“What did you put on our dick?”

Chris raised his eyebrow at you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“It feels like an electric baton. Like it’s in 3-D or something”

Chris leaned up on his elbow.

“Can I have some of what you’re smoking? Because my dick has always been 3-D? Maybe it’s all the lotion I’ve used jacking off to pictures of you for the last two weeks.”

You giggled again.

“You mean you’re real? Chris Evans just let me ride him into the sunset?”

Chris smiled, glad that you two could laugh about it. His fame had been the only source of tension in your relationship.

“Yeah. Because he loves you so much.”

He leaned down and kissed you on the nose, then rubbed your nipples.

“It is really hot how you reacted every time I touched you. What’s up with that?”

You shrugged.

“I don't know. I’m just extra sensitive. Maybe it’s reunification hormones?”

Chris laughed.

“Or maybe it’s just going to be that time of the month. Can’t that affect sensation? Your tits are extra big. Me likey.”

Chris leaned down and started running his lips across your nipples. You lay back and smiled as you enjoyed the sensation, you hand in his hair and scratching his scalp as he made you feel good.

Then your eyes popped open. You sat straight up and pushed Chris off you.

“What’s wrong?”

You looked at Chris and your mouth fell open.

“Fuck!”

You gasped and grabbed your phone.

“Haven’t had a time of the month since couple of weeks before Vegas.”

You checked your cycle tracker.

“Holy Shit!”

This explained a lot.

Chris was still clueless.

“But that was two months…” He caught on. …”ago…”

“Yeah…”

You started freaking out and going to your closet to grab some sweats, Chris’ in fact, your new favorites.

“What are you doing?”

You were irritated now.

“Going to the drug store, Christopher.”

“You can’t go in this state. Let me.”

“The paps are stalking you. They followed us here. You certainly can’t be seen buying a pregnancy test…what if I’m not pregnant? I love you, but I’m not going through all that for nothing.”

Chris knew you were right.

“Then what do we do?”

You grabbed your phone and pressed a contact. It was two am, but you knew she'd pick up the phone.

An hour later, Kit was knocking on your door with a bag of assorted pregnancy tests.

“Whaddup, Dude Bro. Not firing blanks I see!” She put her hand up for a high five from Chris.

“You gonna leave me hanging? I see how it is.”

You took the bag from her, not amused.

“Not funny Kit. Let’s hope he is firing blanks.”

“Hey!”

Chris protested as you gave Kit a quick hug.

“Thank you girl.”

You grabbed the bag and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

You heard Kit and Chris trying the knob and knocking on the door.

“Open up bitch.”

“C’mon, Angel, let me in.”

“Just let me have 10 minutes please!”

They heard the panic in your voice and decided to stop pressing you.

Chris and Kit went to the kitchen to give you some space.

Kit walked around the kitchen island eyeing Chris.

“So. If my girl is pregnant, are you gonna man up?”

Chris retorted quickly.

“Have you forgotten the last two weeks? You know how I feel about her.”

“Yeah, yeah, but you’re also an actor.”

Kit squared up, as tall as Chris was as he sat on the stool.

“You fuck my girl over, you’re a dead man. Just know that if you run from your responsibilities, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.”

Kit and Chris stared each other down for about 30 seconds until Kit lost interest and opened your fridge.

“A bitch is hungry, what y’all got to eat in here.”

Chris hadn’t thought of running, but now he didn’t know whether to get a head start or laugh.

Kit was kinda crazy.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom you were looking in the mirror and trying to regulate your breathing. It took you a couple of minutes, but you finally opened all the tests and lined them up.

Kit had bought five different kinds.

“Nothing to it, but to do it,” you said to yourself as you started the process.

15 minutes and five tests later, you walked out of the bathroom. Your face said it all

“Ohhhhh, SHIT!”

“Kit…” your voice barely registered. You were in shock. You looked over to Chris who was sitting on the stool with a blank stare.

“I’M FIXING TO BE AN AUNTIE!!!”

“Kit!”

Your voice was louder now as the panic set in.

“OooooooOOOO! I hope it’s a little ol’ girl!”

“KIT SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

Both Kit and Chris were staring at you. Kit looked from you to him and cleared her throat.

“Well, you two might like some privacy right about now. Iiiii’mmmm gonna go get something to eat. From The Diner. Watcha want?”

She was greeted with silence as you and Chris continued to look at each other, trying to read the other’s expression.

“Alrighty then. I’ll get the usual. Be back.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Chris got up and as he neared, you backed away.

You went to sit on the couch and he followed. Your head was in your hands as you felt the couch dip beside you.

“Shit.”

Your heart dropped. You peeked between your fingers to look at him.

Chris was grinning.

“Ohhh shit!” He started laughing.

“What the hell are you laughing at???”

“This is perfect!”

You stood up, horrified.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind!”

Chris stood up and put his hands on your arms.

“I know this is a little unexpected. But it’s not like we didn’t want it, right? I mean, we’ve been going at it raw since day one…”

“I didn’t… I… I’m not trying to trap you Chris…”

You shook your head and pulled away.

“I didn’t say that. How could you trap me when I’m a grown man? I knew very well what we were doing and this crossed my mind.”

He shrugged.

“I decided that I’d be thrilled if you have my baby.”

You stared at him.

“Did you plan this?”

“No. Just like you, I’m not trying to trap you, but you had to know this could happen.”

You shook your head again.

“I guess I did. Theoretically. But I was so caught up in this new… this.. us..”

You motioned between you two.

“…And work that I just didn’t think��Oh fuck. Work. What am I going to do?”

You started sobbing and Chris moved toward you and tentatively took you in his arms. When you let him, he held you close.

“It’s okay…..” He was silent for a long while. “Whatever you want to do, I’m here.”

You held onto him for dear life. You were so scared.

“This is not like I had this planned.”

Chris held you out from him, and wiped your tears with his thumbs. He kissed your lips. And then he started to kneel.

“What the hell are you doing???”

“Will you marry me?”

“NO!“

Chris was shocked. He got up and sat on the couch with the same expression he wore when he found out you were pregnant.

He looked so lost that you felt bad. You sat down beside him.

“Chris… I can’t marry you.”

Your voice was soft

“Why not?” He looked so much like a little boy.

“Because I.. we just can’t.”

“Look me in my eyes and tell me you don't love me.”

You couldn’t do it. You looked down at your hands twisting in your lap.

“You only want to marry me because I’m pregnant. Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“I love you Angel. That’s why I want to marry you.”

“Chris, we’ve known each other for two months…”

He looked at you, and those blue eyes never seemed bluer.

“True, but I knew the moment I saw you.”

“Chris….”

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way and I’ll adjust my attitude. I won’t ask you. For a month. But I will ask you every month until the day I die until you say yes.”

You sighed.

“I don’t go with you. Chris Evans marries librarian. So not the move Chris.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that. You make me happy.”

“I haven't told my mom about you.”

“I’ve told mine everything about you.”

You looked at him in astonishment.

“Everything?”

He smiled. “We’re close.”

You just shook your head and tried to talk him out of it.

“Do you want a boring life?”

“I want consistency.”

“Do you want to be tied down with a family?”

“I want the opportunity to be there for my kid.”

“Do you want to be trapped?”

“I want to be given the gift of trying to make you happy every day for the rest of my life.” You looked in his eyes and you knew he meant it.

“Give me a chance to do those things. I love you. I want you. I need you. I want to make this work.”

You put your head in your hands.

“Chris. This is too much. I need… time. to think. I need space. To breathe.”

Chris didn’t want to leave. But if he stayed he knew it would be a fight and wouldn’t get him anywhere.

He gathered his things, and came back into the living room, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you, Angel. Call me and I’m here.”

You nodded and gave him a hug at the door. This all felt so surreal. You went to your bed and lay down, hoping this was all a dream.

Kit basically broke into your apartment, although she had a key, when you wouldn’t answer her. You had to tell her why you were crying because she was about to go ham and unleash holy hell on Chris on social media.

“Dude Bro is gonna be a daddy. What’s the problem?”

“He asked me to marry him.”

Kit moved her neck.

“...As he should… Dafuq?”

“I’m not down for that Kit.”

“Girl, you are tripping. He is clearly head over heels for you. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Kit stopped and massaged her temples.

“I’m sorry. I said I was gonna stop saying that to people.”

Kit took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. Then she spoke to you again in a faux soothing tone.

“How can I help you understand what the fuck is wrong with you?”

You didn’t have an explanation.

“It’s just too much to think about, Kit.”

“Are you going to keep the baby?”

You looked at her. She saw it in your eyes.

“Well then, think about this. When you have that baby, there is no way that you will keep Chris away. And you two can’t keep your hands off each other sooo… you’ll probably make more little dude bros. Why not marry him if nothing else than to save the baby mama drama?”

“Fuck the fact THAT YOU LOVE THAT MAN??? THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Kit got up and went to the kitchen.

“Now eat this damn food. Got to make sure my godchild is fed.”

Kit fed you and stayed with you all night. You fell asleep curled up next to her on the couch.

The next morning, you woke up in your bed and reached for Chris. You panicked and then remembered the night before.

“My god. What have I done?”

You really turned down a marriage proposal from the man you loved.

You reached for your phone and melted when you saw the texts from Chris.

I wanted to call you and come back over so many times last night, but you said you wanted space.

Space sucks.

Call me.

Please.

You called him and he picked up immediately.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Hey, Angel. Did you sleep well?”

Chris sounded tired.

“Slept okay. How about you?”

He sighed. “Not a lot.”

“You hungry?”

“Not really.”

“You gotta eat.”

“Okay. You wanna go somewhere?”

“I… might be in your lobby. With food.”

You chuckled. “Well, come on up.”

You went to the bathroom and tried to fix your self. You looked terrible.

“You look gorgeous.”

Was the first thing Chris said when you opened the door. You smiled and stepped back to let him in.

“I look like shit. I need a shower…”

Chris went to the kitchen to put the food down.

“You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

You smiled at him. “How did you get in the lobby?”

“Doorman took pity on me when he saw the paparazzi.”

“Ah. Listen, Chris…”

“No, Angel. You listen.”

The authoritativeness in Chris’s voice gave you pause.

“I presented it all wrong last night. You can’t push me away. Like it said, I’m here. Believe it or not, I was already planning to propose. And I’m not going to alter those plans, so think about your answer.”

He moved to take you in his arms and you let him.

“Because pregnant or not, librarian or not, whether your mom ever knows about me or not, You’re my forever. And I just want to be yours.”

“Chris, I’ve thought…”

He cut you off with a kiss.

“You missed your chance last night. I’ll ask you again, but you don’t get to control it. I’m coming for you. And you need to get ready.”

You flushed and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Yes… Daddy.”

He chuckled. “Fuck Angel. Did you say something about a shower?”

Two weeks later—

Chris moved to sit down and the nurse quickly moved a chair behind him to catch him.

“Mr. Evans, are you okay?”

Chris looked at the doctor. “Who? What?”

“Oh. My. God, Chris! Look at them!”

Your voice broke as you said it.

Chris looked up at the screen and then remembered that you were on the table with an ultrasound wand up your hooo hah.

He moved to hold your hand again and looked into your tear filled eyes.

“Yes, Ms. YLN and Mr. Evans. There they are. Your twins. Baby A and Baby B.”

[savannah-5555]

"I dunno I think you'd look great in orange"

Prompt #11 from @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world 's prompts for @jilytober.

Muggle AU; Engaged Jily; Rated T/ PG-13 for flirty behavior between a committed couple. Read on AO3

Orange blossom, salmon, sunset, sunrise, oh for bloody sake, Lily sighed internally tossing the swatch card aside, Petunia’s overly cheery smile mocking her from the soon to be Dursley family’s Save the Date. She inhaled deeply to the brewed cup of coffee James had prepared before heading out on his usual Saturday morning running loop. The mug’s warmth radiated through both palms, the fresh grounds performing some much needed aroma therapy.

 Not that she didn’t love her sister and not to make Petunia’s wedding all about herself, but for goodness sake, did the bridesmaid’s dress color palette have to be the shades that would best clash with Lily’s hair? Honestly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she sighed, staring at the the beautifully overpriced nuptial stationary on the kitchen table again. “Of the entire bloody rainbow, she had to go out and choose orange?” 

“Morning! What do we have against orange again?” James walking into the kitchen

“Hello?” Lily gestures to hair, “Have you seen my hair?  And don’t even say what you were about to-”

James did not both to hide the smirk biting off his cheeky remarks, as he kicked his trainers aside, discarding his earbuds in the catch all on the kitchen counter.

“I dunno, I think you’d look great in orange-”

“But I think you would look even better wearing nothing,” Lily chorused, finishing his sentence with him in tandem, “Prat, you’re so bloody predictable.”

“Well, can you blame me? It’s not my fault my fiance is gorgeous.” James pulled his shirt over his head and Lily fully let herself oggle her future husband's half naked sweaty torso.  “Is it freaking hot in this apartment or is it just me? No, seriously, why do you have the thermostat at 72 degrees?” 

“Because I get cold!” Lily gestured to James’ oversized maroon crewneck that made for a wonderful robe substitute.

“But not cold enough for pants?” James cocked an eyebrow.

"Shower. Now.” Lily pointed down the hall, trying her best to seem stern but ultimately her adoration for James squeezed its way through her facade and she bit back a smile

“Keep me company?” James used his thumbs to pull down his running shorts to expose his abdominal V-cut in what Lily could only describe as the world’s goofiest strip tease, “you know you want this, Evans,” He turned to smack his own bum before winking and turning his back to strut down the hallway. 

“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute,” Lily laughed at him, following him down the hall.