#why is he so bf coded

[puckinghischier]

so….what if i told y’all i’m simping rn 🫣

nobody tell nico, he doesn’t need to see this

[batfleckgifs]

GONE GIRL DIR. DAVID FINCHER ‧ 2014

[twinklarentruther]

Team Piastri giving quality content as per usual

[midwest-quill]

Imagine talking shit abt me and I’m just in my room like..

[soratonin]

the trope of the younger brother loving the girl who loves his older brother, where the older brother only sees her as a little sister to him, and the younger brother knows that and worries about her constantly and loves her in spite of it will always beat my ass (╥﹏╥) so peak

[squashberri-art]

♟✨Queen of Games ✨♟

[popponn]

to make my own day, i will talk about my favorite boy

the isagi spectrum is so you get smiley boy next door who is undeniably plain outside but then boom turns out he likes totoro and has a cute taste and is c u t e and has a smile so bright i fell in love within two smiles. t w o. and silly weesagee. and then the inside aka the one that passionate, kinda twisted (it's not kinda. he is.), who works hard and do everything he can to achieve his dream. competitive as hell too.

[pastellmochi]

WHAG IN TARNATION

[jentlemahae]

[seiwas]

the desire to write smth so good that’s just. aching but in the best way? smth that lingers long past reading. smth that makes you get up in the middle to pace around before sitting back down to pick it up again because the emotions are reeling.

so you start to type only to realise that’s one biiiiig skill gap 🫠

[landograndprix]

I meant her disagreement (which a called feud, because I was reading this russian classic and my brain was stuck) with Lando

Why was she the one who made the first move? He didn’t support her after not one but TWO murder attemps from Milou, AND then went out with his friends while she was hurting.

I know I can be cold, heartless bitch (and I also have problem forgiving men for any mistake, blame my daddy issues) but if my bf treated me like that I would never look his way. I do agree that she wasn’t in a best place bit if he’s not sticking for the worst, why should he get to see best of her.

God, I know you mean no harm but not you having me question my own fic 😫

It's a smau, I can't show you the full conversations they have at home because they simply don't post that on the internet. 😉

That being said, lando knew he fucked up and I'm convinced he's tried to make things up ever since Silverstone, they probably argued a lot during Silverstone and Spa too but girlie wasn't just going through some pregnancy hormones alone, she went through a lot of shit in a short period of time, the world is trying to take away the one thing she loves the most, racing, and the world is angry because she loves someone the most, lando, is it all too much for girlie? Absolutely. Does she handle things the right way? Absolutely not, she could do better but then again, she'd never gone through this before.

lando always stood on her side but girlie got into her own head, told herself nobody cares and went with it and not to put the blame if everything on reader but lando probably asked if she wanted to go out with max and cece to get her mind off thing but miss stubborn refused to even look or talk at him.

I get the whole if he were my boyfriend, trust me, I'd be the same but girlie is a complex little thing going through a lot, so please cut her some slack 😭

[haml3t]

Taught a child the magic of blowing on Nintendo products today

[hauntingblue]

I cant believe I am already on fem law... this happened like 2 days ago I cannot do it....

[nephynes]

pleaseee can I req for older won younger reader? I literally never see older won fics 😭 and he just seems so older bf coded

you know what? i see it

MDNI

════════════════════════════

You really don't even notice it anymore. The hand that's always at the small of your back. The way he adjusts your pace when you're walking too fast. The way he slows you down without ever saying a word. The way you follow him without even realizing you're doing it.

It's always been like this with Jungwon. He's never raised his voice at you. Never told you no. Never told you anything, really. He doesn't have to. He just tilts your chin up when you mumble through an excuse, thumbs away your lip when you chew on it too long, makes you look him in the eye when you're trying not to. The first time he did it, you thought he was being sweet.

Now you know better. You know Jungwon isn't exactly sweet. He's more precise.

He takes care of things before you even ask. Keeps the apartment stocked with your favorite snacks. Replaces your razors and pads before you run out. He has your prescriptions memorized, vitamins included—actually stands by the kitchen island in the morning and watches you take them one by one.

"All of them," he'll say, nudging the bottle of B12 with one knuckle when you skip it. "Not just the ones you like."

And you swallow them all with a pout, because you know what happens if you whine.

Being with him has made you forget what it's like to have to ask for anything. You just look at something too long in a store window, and suddenly it's on your bed.

"Don't act surprised," he says one evening when you find a bracelet you almost bought last week sitting inside a box on your pillow. "You stared at it. That's basically begging."

He says it like a joke, but you know it's not.

He watches everything. Remembers everything. Tracks your period in his calendar so well you stopped bothering to update your own. He knows when your cramps are coming, when you'll be sore, when your moods will swing sharp and irrational.

Knows when you'll cry and not know why, he even knows when you're ovulating—like tonight.

You'd been brattier than usual all day, lounging around in nothing but his shirt, flipping through your term paper with a pout that was half fake and half real.

"Wonie, I don't get it," you whined, flopping dramatically on the couch. "It's dumb."

He didn't even look up from his phone.

"Send it to me."

You blinked. "What?"

"The assignment. I'll do it."

You probably should've said thank you. But you didn't. Just threw your arms around his neck and kissed him and forgot the entire thing ten minutes later. Now, you're in his lap again. Lazy. Content. Your cheek pressed to his chest, legs curled into his thighs.

His hand slides up your back and cups your nape.

"You're clingy today," he says, voice low and amused.

"Wonie," you mumble.

"Hm?"

"Can you help me take off the shirt? I'm hot." You're not.

His hand slips under the hem without a word, guiding it up, pulling it off over your head so gently it makes you sigh. You don't even realize he's paused until your body shifts and your bare chest brushes against his.

"No bra?" he murmurs.

You shake your head, sleepy. "Too uncomfy."

"Yeah?"

His fingers trace down your ribs, featherlight. Then he curls a hand around your waist and lifts you up into his lap so his thigh is between your legs, and your chest is flush against his.

Your breath catches. He notices. "You always get so soft like this, baby," he says, voice low. "Like your whole body's begging for me."

Your fingers tighten on his shirt.

"Wonie."

"You don't even know it, do you?" He kisses your jaw. "How you ask for it without even trying."

You open your mouth, maybe to deny it, maybe to whine, but his thumb is on your chin, tilting your head back like he always does.

"Open."

You obey without thinking at all. He slips his thumb into your mouth and watches as you close your lips around it. Watches your lashes flutter when he presses down on your tongue just enough to make your thighs clench.

"There's my good girl."

He finally kisses you then. Slow, deep, possessive. His hands are warm and sure, cradling your hips, lifting you up just to rock you down against his thigh.

You moan into his mouth. Your hips move instinctively. "So easy for me," he says, biting gently at your bottom lip. "Every time. You make me do all the work, and you're still the one that ends up whining."

You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, but he chuckles, and you feel it vibrate through your chest.

"Don't get shy now, baby. Not when you're riding my thigh like that."

You're panting now. Barely able to think. Your clit keeps catching deliciously on his sweats and your whole body feels too warm.

"Wonie, I—"

"I know."

He grips your waist a little tighter, guiding your movements. Your hands are clutching his shoulders, fingers digging in, and your eyes are wet and wide.

"Y'wanna cum like this, don't you?"

You nod.

"Say it."

"Wonie...wanna cum. On you."

He hums, proud and pleased. "I know, baby girl. I'll let you. Just keep being good for me."

And you do. Of course you do. You always are.

He helps you grind harder, deeper, his thigh tensing under you with every little whimper you let out. It's filthy how good it feels, how wet you're getting, how you're rutting against him like you've forgotten how to ask for more. His grip tightens as you lose rhythm, as your hips start jerking on their own, chasing that high.

He kisses you through it when you cum, moaning and whimpering into his mouth, grinding helplessly against him while his hand cups your jaw to keep you still.

He smiles first, eyes flicking down to the soaked patch on his sweats like he's proud of it. His fingers brush over the damp fabric, deliberately slow, feeling the heat you left behind, and then he looks up at you with something almost wicked in his gaze. "All this from just a little grinding?"

After, when you're still trembling in his arms, he kisses your temple and murmurs in your ear.

You're always quiet afterward, always tucked into him, letting him guide your breathing without a word. He's running his hand down your spine, light and slow, and you feel so small like this. Like you always do with him.

"That's my girl," he murmurs eventually, more to himself than to you.

You barely hum in return, the sound muffled into his chest.

He smiles and it’s not the usual one he gives you when he's amused, but something deeper. Familiar. Like he's seen this version of you before, way before you even knew how to ask for what you needed.

"You really don't know how much of a baby you are sometimes," he says softly, brushing your hair off your face.

The words make your stomach flip. But his tone is affectionate and warm. You don't reply, just cling to him tighter, pretending not to hear the low laugh he gives when you do.

"That's alright," he adds, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I've got you."

"I love you, you know that right?"

You nod your head, weak.

He never says it in public. Never shows his teeth, never pulls you closer like other guys might. He doesn't think he needs to.

Jungwon is never loud about being yours.

He's just always there. There when you step off a curb without looking, hand reaching out without even glancing up. There when your voice gets too quiet in a group setting and no one hears you—except him.

"She said she wants a vanilla smoothie," he tells the server, without being asked.

"No, she's fine," he says quickly when someone teases you for being on your phone too much.

"You don't need to talk if you don't want to, baby."

It's so smooth you don't realize how much space he takes up in your life. Not just physically, although he does tend to lean into you a lot, draping an arm around the back of your chair, tilting your face toward him when you're zoned out, but emotionally, too.

Later that night, when you're half-asleep and mumbling nonsense against his chest, he taps his phone open and marks your symptoms down in his cycle tracker. Then he adds painkillers to the grocery list and sets a reminder for himself to grab heat packs tomorrow.

Because you don't need to ask. He already knows.

You're his girl. And he always knows what's best for you.

════════════════════════════

• a/n: i’d do anything for a boyfriend that’ll do my homework for me

[machidejavu]

page.soobin is back with new bf pics 🤩🤩

[starrbishops]

⟡Sidelines⟡

(Bob Reynolds x f!Reader)

Summary: Your boyfriend worries about you. A lot. When you come home injured, he immediately focuses on taking care of you, in more ways than one. (Based partially on Sidelines by Phoebe Bridgers) - ao3 version

Word Count: 1.9k

Notes: Set after the events of Thunderbolts*, established relationship, SMUT!!! oral sex (f receiving), reader injury (stab wound), Bob is a nervous but caring bf, and a MUNCH (bless his heart)

a/n: This is my first published Bob fic! I'm still trying to get a sense of how to write him but this is sort of me trying to character build what he's like post TB and in a relationship. But if there are two things I do know it is that he is Phoebe Bridges coded and that that boy eats pussy like the last goddamn supper so I give you this.

One thing Bob didn’t expect about being in love was how anxiety inducing it was.

He still didn’t fully believe your relationship was real; that you’d said yes to him asking you out, kissed him that night outside the tower, excitedly told everyone about your new relationship. It was strange, having someone be proud of him, but a feeling he had come to love.

You were kind to him. He still wasn’t used to the feeling of being wanted, or even tolerated, let alone loved. But the way you treated him, not like a burden or like he was made of glass, made him love you.

And with that, came with being constantly worried whenever you were out on a mission, even doing simple recon. He tried to stay calm, not be annoying about it, yet he always found himself imagining the worst, that one day the team would come home and you wouldn’t be there.

It’s why he sat, waiting by the door for you and the team to return from your mission of the day. You’d texted him when you’d all gotten on the jet home, reassuring him you were all fine and giving him and ETA. It was lonely in the Watchtower, although he did find ways to entertain himself. Still, he often found himself seated in his chair in the common room, twiddling his thumbs as he awaited you all. It was kind of sad, he knew. Still, he wouldn’t trade anything for seeing the way your face lit up when you saw him waiting, and the relief he felt when you walked in.

The elevator dinged, opening to reveal the six of you, everyone looking tired and beat from a long day. Bob’s eyes immediately searched for you, finally seeing you step out last, an arm around Bucky as he held you up. You hobbled in, not putting pressure on your left leg, where he saw a red splotch on your gear, clearly blood.

“What happened?” he quickly moved to you, Bucky automatically shifting to let Bob hold you up. You winced a bit at the transition, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s shoulders.

“It’s fine, it’s just a little cut-”

“She got stabbed.” Bucky announced as he began pulling off his holsters.

“You got stabbed?!” Bob repeated, eyes going wide as he looked down at the wound.

“Look, Bob, I’m okay, it’s just a minor stab wound-”

“There’s no such thing as a minor stab wound!” he exclaims, sighing as he kneels down to look at your calf. Sure enough, the blood looks dried but there is a gash in your gear, and he can see the stitches someone had given you on the ride home. “Who stitched you up?”

“Me!” Walker calls as he unclips his helmet. “Did pretty good for a mid-combat wound.”

You scoff. “Debatable.”

“Thanks, Walker.” Bob talks over you as he stands. “You are going to rest now.”

“Bob, I’m fine-”

“Nope!” He wrapped an arm beneath your knees, lifting you with ease as he carried you to your room. You forget how strong he is sometimes- how the Sentry Project changed him. He’s always wearing baggy crewnecks and long sleeves that hide the physique it gave him, the muscle. He’s a little embarrassed of it, honestly. He doesn’t feel like he earned it. Then again, he doesn't feel like he earned any of this- these friends, living in the tower, you.

You give up on fighting as Bob kicks your door open, putting you down softly on your bed. “Thanks.” you mutter as you scoot upwards to lay on your pillows, wincing at the sharp pain in your leg. “Sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well I am worried!” he laid down next to you, gently putting a hand to your cheek. “I always worry. Every Time you guys go out there, I-I’m terrified something’s going to happen to you.”

You put your hand over his, a guilty look on your face. “Bob, I…” you trail off, staring at the ceiling. “I just don’t want to be a burden to you.”

Bob’s quiet for a moment, processing your words. “A burden?”

You nod, peering over at him. His face is confused, brow furrowed as if you’ve said that the sky is green and grass is blue. “You could never be a burden to me.”

“I know, I know, I just-”

“No. You are not a burden.” he silences you with a soft kiss, cupping your face gently. “You are everything.”

You smile up at him, kissing him back once more. “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“It’s okay.” he punctuates his words with another kiss. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around him, the two of you laying still, just basking each other’s presence for the moment.

“A burden…” Bob mumbles into your neck. “You’re the best thing in my shitty fucking life.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” he lifts his head, looking you in the eyes, dead serious. “Before you, it was like… everything was just so far away, just things happening to me. Now, it’s so much more…” he searches for the right word. “Real. Like I had something to keep going for. And something I could lose.”

You just look up at him, seeing the genuine look on his face, the fear primed in his eyes. Bob is no stranger to rejection; even after months together, in the back of his mind he worries every romantic gesture could be the wrong thing.

But instead of yelling at him, pushing him away, you just smile at him, run a hand through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? Not if I can help it.” you press a kiss to his cheek. “And I’ll be more careful from now on. I promise. I’ll always come home to you.”

Bob smiles softly, yet hesitantly, like there’s still something left on his mind. “Okay?” you ask, both a question of understanding and of his current mental state.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good, I just…” his eyes flit around nervously, before landing on your face again. “I love you.”

It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, although he’s known it for a long time. He’s known since the first time you kissed, but he was too terrified of scaring you off to ever say it. So he held back, till now.

“I love you too.” you smile, chuckling a little as you see the joy light up Bob’s face. “I love you, Bob.”

“Really?” he grins, still unsure if this is real. You just nod, and then he’s pulling you into him, kissing you again, this time intense, with all the feeling and honesty he’s held back till now. His hands run down to your waist, pulling you close to him till your bodies are flush against each other.

When he finally pulls away, you see his brown eyes darkened with lust, glancing back down to your lips as if he can’t get enough.

“I want you.” He whispers, shifting himself so he’s atop you.

“You’ve got me.” you pull him in for another kiss, before he’s sitting back up and yanking at your tactical pants.

When it comes to sex, Bob is always eager to please. You make an effort to take care of him just as much as he does for you, but he insists he takes just as much pleasure in your ecstasy as he does his.

Now he’s swiftly pulling your pants down, taking your underwear with them as he tosses them off somewhere in your room. He runs a thumb along your wound, assessing how bad it is.

“I’m okay.” you breathe out. “Wasn’t deep. Please, Bob.”

He takes his place laying between your thighs, gently propping your legs onto his shoulders. His eyes take in your already soaked folds, his mouth hanging open, salivating at the sight.

“You sure?” he checks once more, glancing over at your cut. You nod fervently.

“Yes, please, Bob, God-”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s pressing kisses into your thighs, moving quickly to lick a stripe up your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, his tongue sending shockwaves through your body.

Prior to meeting you, Bob had had a few relationships, mostly short, sexual based things. He wasn’t an expert on eating pussy, but the first time he got between your legs, it was like he’d found God in there. 

He lapped at your pussy fervently, like it was his last meal. Bob Reynolds was nothing if not a pleaser, and after a few months, he had learned what worked. For instance, he knew that if he flicked his tongue against your clit as he did now, you would release a choked out gasp, fingers gripping his hair like a lifeline, which is exactly what you did.

He groans against you, the vibrations sending heat through the growing knot in your stomach. You writhed against him, his large palms holding you down against the mattress. God, you loved it when he showed his strength.

“God, yes, Bob, just like that, fuck-” you moaned out praise as he continued to delve into you, switching between lavishing your folds and sucking at your clit. His hips stuttered against the mattress as he desperately sought friction, growing impossibly harder by the second at your cries. “I love you, love you so much.”

The words go straight to his cock, his hips slamming against the mattress even harder as he groans into you. One of your favorite things about Bob; he is vocal during sex. The dirty things that came out of his mouth the first time you gave him a blowjob are still etched into your mind.

But now, you feel the coil in your stomach tightening, threatening to come undone. “Bob, Bob I’m close, baby, fuck…” you grip his hair with both hands, gridning your hips into his face as best you can while he holds you down. He stares up at you, his big brown eyes taking in every gasp, every moan that comes out of you. He moves up, sucking on your clit so hard you see stars as you finally cum, crying out his name as you do.

He doesn’t slow down, continuing to lap at you as you ride out your orgasm. You gasp as you come down from your high, his mouth finally slowing and smiling up at you, covered in your slick.

“You’re so pretty like this.” you pant out. “Me all over your mouth.”

He grins shyly, but with pride in his actions. “You liked it?”

“Yes I liked it, Bob.” you laugh as you pull him up to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kiss him. You reach down to his groin, feeling a wet spot there. “Baby, did you-”

“Uh, yeah.” he mumbles, cheeks growing red. “I like seeing you like that.”

You just smile, kissing him once again. “That’s hot.” you murmur into his lips.

He hums against you, kissing you hungrily. He rolls his hips against yours, and your breath catches as you can feel him already getting hard again. 

You're in for a long night.

a/n: Bob my Shayla. Oh my Shayla. I hope I did him justice with this. Ain't much, but it's honest work.