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theplumsoldier · 5 years

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NO KISSES

Summary: y/n is a guest at the red sea diving resort and is down to fuck the hot guy in the reception. also again i tagged some sweet people that i thought might be interested—do let me know if you are not, i dont wish to inconvenience anyone. as always, feedback is most appreciated!:)

Pairing: ari levinson x reader

Word count: 3227

Warnings: smut, vulgar language.

Truly and in all certainty, the man behind the counter had to be created by the meticulous hands of God himself—hell, if that was not Jesus standing right there in trunks and a buttoned-down shirt you swore the Earth might as well be off and be flat. But then again, religion was ancient and so was that bird-brained belief, and the man you had come to know as Guy, he too appeared to belong to the ‘archaic’ variety of men who had caught your interest.

He was not old. You did not think so, at least, still, he certainly was the kind to age with grace, much like wine and although you never had found yourself able to appreciate a good glass, this man seemed to be the ideal type to drink a bottle with.

Chest hair peeked from behind his open shirt, a fine glow that the sun had left on his skin made the beads of sweat glisten so beautifully in the yellow light. The Magen David pendant hung in swaying motion from his neck and you had to curse yourself for imagining it jumping from his chest while he pounded into you. Undoubtedly this was a vacation and you were going to have fun now that you finally were single, only you could not imagine this was a vacation to him, this was work. As a woman working in a bar, you were widely familiar with those late-at-night-attempts to get some, and therefore you had more respect for both Guy and yourself than to hint towards the conspicuous sin.

The hour was late, and the resort deserted. You figured most had gone to sleep or were out by the beach for a late-night drink, considering there were few places in the vicinity providing leisure of that kind. The friends you were at the retreat with had retired to the bedrooms you shared. As the day had consisted of little besides ample writing, you were nowhere near tired enough to sleep and the humid weather did nothing but make you toss in the sheets.

And that was why you had yet to join your friend, thinking it better to leave her be to doze off while you could tire yourself out some. So, sitting in the foyer, you were leaned in over papers, some with and some without writing, a pen spinning between your fingers and half a bottle of exotic, combustible liquor.

Guy had been wandering about for some time, disappearing and reappearing every now and then, taking care of his late-night resort business, you supposed. The next time he was away was a little while longer than the last, making you wonder just what he was occupied with, missing the sight of his fine figure.

By the time he returned, you were too caught up in your paper to take notice of his approach. However, once he cleared his throat your head lifted and you could not help but smirk at the cocksure man, holding a pot of coffee and two cups.

You leaned back in your seat, pushing at the chair opposite you with your foot under the table, gesturing for him to take a seat. “I was wondering when you were going to stop playing hard to get.”

Guy let out a laugh on took you up on the invitation.

“I hope it’s that paper keeping you up this late and not your room,” said he and tilted his head curiously to the side, as if asking a question and you caught on.

“Oh, no the room is very accommodating. It’s really just my friend’s snores that are rather offensive.”

“Ah,” Guy chuckled as he got comfortable, pouring the coffee and speculated what it would feel like to have a large man such as himself to pin you down, or in good hap, pound you, even. “Mind my asking what you’re working on?”

“It’s an article. About the prosperous lands of the African savannah.”

“Really?” ticked he, nonplussed.

“No. At this point, this—” you held the smaller stack of papers into the air, “is just a bunch of zany scribblings of a drunk. You know, it was my friends that picked this place and planned the whole trip. Just, like, a getaway, ‘cause apparently their actuary- and retail jobs are so fucking stressing, and I got curious, you know? Of all the places in the world, they settled on Sudan. I mean, now that I’m here, this is nice, I guess, it’s nice! But they must have spelled something wrong somewhere and fortuitously got us shipped off to this desert, and—shit, I’m sorry, I’m maundering.”

Guy held out a cup for you. Accepting, you leaned over the table and you swore your heartrate increased the moment his fingers brushed yours. You almost knocked the bottle of liquor over when you pulled back, cheeks flushed.

“No, please—continue. I have been wondering what brings people so far out.”

“Well, to begin, your brochure was extremely tantalizing,” deadpanned you and inhaled the smell of the steaming java. “Also, I figured heck, so I did some research about Sudan and ended up on some wild goose chase, somehow stuck on fucking Mossad.”

Candidly, your words ignited a spark of fear in Ari, his azure composed eyes widening for a split-second, though you did not take notice of the change before he shifted and regained composure. Circumspect he observed you warily and shifted in his seat, trying to read you but you were not as much of an open book as he would have preferred. This made you interesting, yet perilous for a man of his taste.

“Anyway, I ended up with more questions than I had to begin with and decided it might be an interesting place to spend some time. Though I have to admit, I thought there would be more of a chance of getting a taste of the culture, but this is nice too.”

Coming to understand you were no threat, he soon relaxed in his place. You were no more than a tourist. He decided it was safe to let down his guard and be a nosy parker, asking where you got with “that Mossad story”.

“In retrospect, I can honestly say not far. I mean it was more of a conspiracy theory than anything. Still, I had the audacity to, on a whim—” you were chuckling by now, taunting yourself as you now could see why your boss had allowed you to take some time off, clear your mind. “—run it by my editor, but he turned me down. Our paper just made a deal to have a column-collab with CNN, which he wants me to be in charge of, so he’d rather have me go with something, said “more appropriate”, like a tribute to John Lennon or fucking post-its. Can you believe that? I didn’t get into journalism to gossip; I write to make people feel something; incite revolution; I wouldn’t mind that now.”

“Huh,” hummed he fairly entertained, curiously eyeing you as he lifted the cup to his lips. “Well, I have to admit, I’m a bit of a sucker for conspiracy theories myself, so, I mean, I’d love to read it sometime.”

You chuckled and shook your head, leaning over the table. “Oh no, I fed that garbage to a shredder long ago.”

Guy’s face dropped, seemingly contorting into a mix of disappointment and concentration as he was deep in thought.

“Trust me, you did not miss out,” said you and eyed the trepidation in his entangled fingers. “This piece, however, now that would be worth your while! Nothing that’s ever going to see the light of day but it’s a fine review of this corner of the world, complimenting your superlative resort here.”

“Is that so?” uttered he with a sly smirk and you nodded your head, taking a sip of the coffee.

“Aha! Also, I needed something to distract my mind with, seeing as I have been going at whatever the hell this is for hours now. I can assure you; a sleep-deprived drunken state is the circumstances a writer could ask for.”

He clicked his tongue and his head tilted back, mind going elsewhere. “Doesn’t sound very healthy, though. I could think of other sufficient ways if it’s a distraction you’re seeking.”

A coy smile curled your lip upward, needing no more to assimilate the overt hint and had it not been for the alcohol, your face would have been red as the sunburnt Germans on the tour.

“You know, if you want to fuck, all you have to do is say so.”

He seemed taken aback, but his pacific eyes flashed only a glimpse of surprise before he felt himself break from the daze. “And here I thought I was being bold.”

Humming in reply, you suppressed your smirk and wet your lips, trying to read his face.

Then he spoke up again, “it was Y/N, yeah?”

Nodding your head slowly, you felt your heartbeat increase and your legs’ position shifted as you struggled to tend to the tingle fluttering between your legs.

“Good.”

“And Guy?”

A short moment passed by in silence until he uttered a low “yeah” in reply. Then another passed, one where you took the time to wonder if you really were going to have sex with a complete stranger. The thought, although you never would have considered yourself so adventurous, was appealing to you and the heating sensation only stirred in you. You watched as Guy took you in and he hurriedly looked around him, the sound of his chair’s legs screeching against the floor.

“So, let’s do this.”

And Guy set marching.

His pace was moderate, something for you to keep up with, still, he did not walk five feet without casting a glance across his shoulder to make sure you still were at his tail. You were, of course, and like an eager dog following the food of that. In the end, he ended up reaching for your hand to pull you along, faster and you could not help but grin at the hurry he seemed to be in.

Finding yourself in his company, in his room, you looked around you, though he gave you little chance as he quickly had you caught against the shut door. Dipping down to connect your lips, Guy never got further than grazing your plump, soft lips, ever so slightly and he gave you a questioning look, a funny smirk tugging at his features and you explained, naming your one condition.

“No kissing.”

Guy pouted like a child finding coal rather than candy in his stocking on Christmas morning. “But that’s half the fun, darling.”

And you laughed at him, one hand teasingly sliding down his chest to unbutton the rest of his shirt. “Well, I’ll try my best to make up for it then.”

From excitement, Guy emitted a begging whine and his head dropped back, knowing all too well what you implied, and he had grown impatient even before you could rid him of his shorts. Reimbursing him with a teasing kiss just below his navel, you pulled down the cover. Springing free from strains, his cock stood tall and proud, saluting you and you gaped at the size and thickness of his girth. Surely, that was a mouthful, but you did not let yourself scare and rather blinked up at him, breaking a coy smile, before wrapping your hand around him. Feeling him, your fingers curled him and ran up his shaft, enjoying the sounds you pulled from him at the simple action. He was so responsive, and his cock twitched when your lips brushed his mushroom head. Darting out your tongue to teasingly swirl around him, you set at the base and licked along the prominent vein, humming a sweet sound for him as you complacently watched his blissed expression. Wetting your lips, you wrapped your lips around the tip, tasting the hint of salt he had to offer and for balance, your hands steadied you on his thighs while he moved the hair from your face. Taking a few inches, you dragged yourself up and down his cock, drawing back to spit on him and then fit more. While accustoming your throat to the considerable size of him, your one hand worked on what you had yet to fit, squeezing around him. Guy moaned your name as your tongue massaged against him, reveling in the pleasing sensation in which you provided.

Working on him for minutes, you could feel yourself wet at the very idea of him down your throat and you had to bring your hand down between your legs to take care of yourself all the while. The sound escaping you was almost pornographic, gagging around his cock as his hips bucked forward, fucking your face.

Hissing, Guy was ready to burst at any given time and urged you deeper on his cock, when you shifted. You received a questioning gaze through his daze when your lips left his cock and you merely grinned for yourself. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought a man such as himself would so easily be wrapped around your finger, but here he was, wanting you more than anything, making you feel divine as you stood from your knees.

You never had been one to stride from an honest challenge in this time was no different, although it proved none at all when he so complaisantly fell under your curse. Thus it was nothing but nature for you to take what you wanted, and knowing you had to be dripping down your thighs by now, you reached to suck on his neck, pushing him onto the bed.

Feeling him rock hard against your clothed cunt, he elicited a moan from you the had him groan low in his chest. Desperately Guy wanted to take control of the moment and set a bruising pace, only he could not recall a time where he had felt so small, not to mention the part of him enjoying a woman in power.

Straddling him, your dress hiked up you fevered skin and his rough hands helped you pull it over your head, exposing your body for the humid air to embrace. Exploring hands admired your bare chest, tugged you down by your waist, grinding against him and his large hands fell to your bottom. Adroit fingers rid you off your garments in seconds and he hoisted you closer to him. It was then he got a sense of just how wet you were for him. All for him and he grunted, smirking to himself at the thought of how slippery you had gotten from sucking him off.

Driving yourself crazy by running your sex up and down his pulsing shaft, you spread your wetness across his cock and made a mess when you decided you had kept him waiting long enough. Steadying yourself with a hand flat on his heavily heaving chest, you lifted yourself and lined his head with your slick entrance, before sliding down.

Guy winced, pleasure engulfing him as your warmth swallowed him whole. Panting a faint moan, you heaved yourself unsteadily and the precariousness of a lady, eyes squinting shut at the all too missed feel of a man filling you.

Alleviating hands kneaded the soft spots of your body, holding you by the waist to guide you up and down him. His azure eyes were fixated on where you met, head craned out of comfort, pulled off the pillow to watch how well you took him. The sounds you made were hushed but pornographic and became more so when he pulled you down, close to his face and he could smell himself on you as you coveted climax.

“You hear that?” mutters he into your skin, voice husky and responsible for the shivers sparking through your bones. While your head was long gone in a state of ecstasy, the taunting slap of his balls on your skin echoed through your mind and you whined in response, nearly collapsing as you failed to keep up with him. Fucking up into your clenching cunt, Guy grunted against you, his one hand lifting your chin, forcing eye contact and you moaned at the sight. With all but his glorious, damp expression and the resonating, squelching sounds from between your thighs blocked out, you shuddered, hoping to God, not a soul had heard, for your frolic affairs could not be mistaken. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well, Y/N.”

And barely in the mental state to keep yourself composed; Guy stripped you from all chances of keeping quiet as his hand snaked between sweaty bodies to toy with your clit. Whimpering, you harshly bit down on your lip, your own hand tentatively, shakingly clasping against his and he can do nothing but watch keenly in wonderment as you came around his cock. Ponding you through your orgasm, he did not heed the thumping sound on a fist on the wall, refusing to let the face of Max ruin his orgasm. Squeezing around him, Guy felt himself unable to restrain any longer, and he pulled out, his thick load painting your stomach and pussy.

Moaning an elongated cry at the absence of his bruising thrusts, you ground out your fading orgasm on his stomach, his cock twitching beneath you, still spurting. Fragile as glass, you were collapsed on Guy, breath hitched in your hoarse throat, nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck as you attempted to pacify your rapid breathing. Moments passed, recalibrating your respiration and his soothing fingers kneading the spots where marks had been left.

Drawing in a deep breath, you gently lifted your head, shifting and leaning your cheek on your open palm. Simpering and with a hint of thoroughly-fucked in your kittenish eyes, you stole his half-lidded gaze, catching a peaceful smile.

“I should go,” breathed you, catching yourself lick your lips when your eyes darted to his.

Lips parted, Guy moved a little beneath you, hand resting on the small of your back while his thumb still drawing circled patterns.

“You don’t have to,” muttered he with a short pause, only after voiced, realizing his words may have sounded importunate. And that was the last thing he wanted to paint himself as, but he had scant to worry about—after all, he had just fucked a stunning stranger and not one of the two was in rue. “Not yet, at least.”

And you hummed with a smile, one that later would make an appearance in his deviant thoughts. Softly placing your hand on his chest, you leaned in close and ghosted your lips over his, hungry for more but tantalizing in essence.

“This was fun.” Lightly tapping his sturdy chest, you pecked him on his bearded cheek and cast him a smile before making your entrancing exit. “We should do it some other time.”

And just like that, you left him in his room with nothing but his mind to replay the previous scene of wanton happening, his cock hardening only at the notion of sweetest gasps and sinful pants you had offered him. He fucked his hand one last time before he drifted off, off into the deepest slumber he had had in a long time.

TAGLIST: @patzammit @draeluna @chibi-crazy @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @tanyam93 @valentina-booth @peach-acid @jeanily3000 @jamesgiuseppe @loilko

#ari levinson #ari levinson smut #chris evans smut #Chris Evans #chris evans imagine #Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #ari levinson imagine #theplumsoldier

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jhsince94 · 4 years

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Just a short AU that's been stuck in my mind for a long long long time now :)

Prompt: Big shot music producer Beca Mitchell is in a secret relationship with Chloe Beale, a famous actress for years now and now they're on a same project. A movie where Chloe is starring and Beca is scoring. However things got riled up once the people behind the movie suggested revealing their secret relationship and making it as a movie stunt.

im so bad at writing the story's prompt but here ya goo

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"Really Ms. Mitchell?" A smirk came with the voice of a man who stood up. Beca raised a brow. "We are very certain that among everyone in this room, it is you who knows most of how this industry works" It was Kevin, one of the production manager if she could remember and name the face right.

Giving up to the brunette's empty response, Kevin decided to proceed further, "All we're saying here is that we could totally make something more out of your relationship with Ms. Beale. Something that could definitely benefit not just the movie but both of your careers as well. I mean, everyone here is aware of how huge it would be to reveal that the world's hottest DJ is finally off the market and is secretly dating one of the Hollywood's best actress for over a year now- if my sources are right. Then right there we could also break the news that both of you are in fact working together in a movie. News outlets would lose their minds, Beca. It'll be huge." Beca couldn't help but to release a loud scoff at this. She's was actually impressed that she's hearing all this bullshit this early. Though that initial reaction from the DJ didn't stopped Kevin from speaking again, "We can now also forget Tom Carter since there would be no use of him to be involved with Chloe if we push this through. I'm sure we could wipe every article we've generated very quickly, if we settle this right away"

Having a hard time believing what she's hearing, Beca grinned widely as she eyed Jesse from her side. It seemed like she had totally heard it right after all. If only Kevin came straight to the point a little earlier she shouldn't have asked him to repeat how shitty this idea have been.

Her relationship with Chloe is something she kept dearly personal and away from any hollywood business tricks or stunts successively straight for over a year, and now, hearing it to be proposed as some sort of movie prop or generic stand in issue to bring fame and hype to the film is completely the very reason she is having none of this crap.

"I'm sorry but this has been a huge misunderstanding. See, Beca and Ms. Beale aren't actually a thing. Where did you even get that from?" Jesse had stood up, looking over to Jessica, Chloe's manager, who was kept still and mute from her position just beside the redhead, so much to his and Beca's surprise and disappointment.

"No, Jesse it's fine" Beca spoke. If they had gone this far of a plan, it just means that they've already figured out the relationship, and denying it right now in the middle of this wouldn't make much difference.

So, clearing out her voice, she said, "I don't know how else to put it in a lesser rude way but I would have to turn down this crappy idea, Kevin. I've always had my personal life most certainly my relationships with whoever set to be out of any contract. I got this straight during the signing, didn't I?" The brunette pressed her lips tight together and gave him a disappointed look before she leaned back again.

Few of the movie heads and executives started to share their surprised glances and opposing opinions as the room fell silent.

"Wow, that was quiet a rejection we weren't prepared for" Kevin spoke uneasily between the silence. Beca had mentally groaned and looked over the man again, curious of what he has left to say. "We were actually kind of hoping to receive the same positive reaction we got from Ms. Beale's team but, okay..." The man trailed off, gazing over to the redhead and her manager who were seated at the other end of the table. And when Beca's just right at losing all her interest to this meeting, her mind however suddenly came to full attention at his last words.

"What do you mean?" Beca asked, her brows meeting while her eyes went over to Chloe's direction. Kevin didn't speak for a moment while he let the DJ and Chloe's eyes meet for a second- and right at there, Beca could've already cursed and snapped, but the amount of surprise she had didn't actually helped when she read the guilt in Chloe's eyes.

Not knowing what to say, Beca managed to stand up to her knee, keeping her eyes only to Chloe.

"I- I.. I dont get it"

"You see, Beca.. we and Chloe's team had planned this to be something equally beneficial to everyone who might be included. We just didn't expect that it is you who's actually with Ms. Beale and not Tom" Beca could swear that her heart clutched right there. It almost feels like there were thousand knives that came straight at her, stabbing her everywhere in ways she started to physically feel it through her chest. "And giving that Ms. Beale have taken this as something positive when we talked it over to them, we kind of expected to receive-"

"What does that mean?" Jesse went ahead to cut Kevin off, confusion was driving his voice.

"What the fuck is going on, Jessica?" Beca found her voice just seconds after Jesse. Her heart is starting to heave in a mixture of confusion, anger and pain as she looked over to Chloe's manager. Jessica had not spoken a word. Her lips were firmly pressed and it was starting to drive Beca even mad.

"Can we get a run through of what you actually mean? We don't want to wrap our heads into something we aren't sure of" Jesse came again, trying to sound professional but failing with disappointment on his tone.

"Why don't we get Chloe's team to explain it?" Kevin asked, glancing over to the redhead and her handler's side.

"Why don't you just all cut this fucking chase and actually explain it?" Beca bit back.

"Beca" A light tap brought Beca to see that Jesse is now standing beside her with a look she already know what meant.

"No. I need to know what the fuck is going on here that I feel like everybody in this room knows something I don't. I feel like being played on, Jesse" Anger was now majorly evident in her tone. her face has gone full red and her eyes were furious as she continues to shift over at Chloe and Jessica in hope to hear something other than to receive the same gaze of guilt she's all been getting.

"Now quit this fucking game and answer my goddamn question, Jessica!" The brunette snapped. Anger rose through her, luckily Jesse was there fast enough to hold her back as he tried to sit her down and calm a bit. But Beca evidently had enough to just sit back.

"I'm sure we could settle this in a calmer way" Kevin tried as the room started to feel the tension from the DJ.

"Am I really not gonna hear a single thing, Chlo?" Beca spoke again, ignoring everything and everyone around. Her voice was lighter than earlier but it spoke volume to Chloe when she drove her nearly crying eyes to the Brunette. Beca's stare has slowly gone cold.

"I'm sorry, Beca but Chloe really did thought of this as something good for the both of you. She also thought that you guys have already to waited to have the perfect timing to break the silence and to finall-"

"That's bullshit!" Beca snapped again, feeling another massive wave of pain in her chest. The puzzle came very painful to finally fit together. She was played into a game she had no idea of and on top of all that, she couldn't hide that she's disappointed that Chloe, of all people actually knew and agreed to this.

"Chlo.. babe, what is this?" Beca trailed off. And if anyone knew better than Chloe, they could totally tell that her tone was actually helpless.

Everyone from the room were just as perplexed as Chloe when they heard Beca spoke, let alone for the first time dropped the name she is only used to hear when they're alone. But that didn't kept Chloe from speaking nothing, only causing another addition to the DJ's frustration.

Beca wanted to scream, hell she wanted tear this place down. But the situation of this- with knowing everything, with Chloe not speaking and not even bothering to stand up against this or to at least defend their relationship is only making her weak that all she managed was to let out a frail breath.

That is just when Jesse had got her to seat at last. The room was in complete silence. The plain sound of the air system and constant whisper of a few people were the only evident noise before they heard Chloe's silent sobs. Gathering all the energy she has left, she looked over to Chloe. The redhead's breathing was starting to hitch as her shoulders paced up and down through her continuous sobs. It was painful to see. Beca wanted to run to her, to embrace her and to get them out of this place but the pain of betrayal from the person she least expected it from is keeping her still on her foot.

"Beca" She heard Jesse from behind as she starts to feel her body loosing all its strength. "Let's get you out. I'll be the one to talk to them about this." He says, gripping both of her shoulders to the way out, but she shrugged it.

"No, I get it. I understand everything now" Beca's voice came again, way calmer but this time her tone was pitching every bitterness and pain she has. "I just hope you guys had your fair share of enjoyment with seeing how I got teamed up upon and got played into whatever fame stunt this is" Her voice started to break when she felt Jesse's hand over her shoulders. She was feeling every muscle of her tensing up as she hold back her tears. "It's just so stupid of me to actually fall to this" She spat out. Pain was written all over her face.

"Becs, we should go" Jesse voice's rang from behind again, this time tugging her enough to slightly turn from everyone.

Beca shook her head, ready to speak again when Jesse cut her off with another look.

"Let's go" Jesse whispered but firmer this time, ushering the brunette's shoulder but Beca tipped it off once again, looking back at everyone for the last time.

"This will be the last time you'll hear from me" The DJ spoke and looked over to Jesse. "I want to be pulled out from this movie, I don't care if I lose every contract I'm in with this management" she added, her hands were clenched hard enough that her knuckles were starting to flush white while her eyes were starting to draw the tears she's been fighting to keep. "Halt every decision they made, and also make sure to pay every media outlets they've teamed up with. I don't want any issue of me connected to anyone in this room lying around the second I get out"

"We made everyone sign a none disclosure agreement last week so that should work just fine to keep them from releasing anything against you to the media" Jesse answered.

Nodding to that, Beca didn't bother to throw another glance. This has took a toll on her and that is all she was left to give. With nothing left to say she breathed out once again and finally walked straight out of the room, leaving her pained heart right on the door.

#bechloe #chloebeale #becamitchell #bechloeau #bechloeprompt #angst #fameau #bechloefameau

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savory-n-sweet · 6 years

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Why?

YEET this is the race angst i was talking about the other day

also special lil thanks to @timesarehardfornewsies and @newsboystrike for hyping my ass up

Pairing: Racetrack Higgins x Reader

Warnings: divorce, arguing, swearing

Word Count: 1.3K

Modern Era

Edited | Not Edited | Skimmed

Lowercase intended (i wrote all of this on my phone and im too lazy to fix it)

enjoy !!!

you had always been afraid of dating. the thought of letting someone into your life, letting someone know everything about yourself, scared the absolute shit out of you. every since your parents separated, at least. they were supposed to be in love, but your mother cheated on him. they had a child together, and she was still unfaithful to him. she cheated because he didn’t satisfy her in bed.

but here you were, in the apartment you shared with the boy you loved. he was working late like he has been, every night, for weeks. he hasn’t been coming home until around one in the morning. you were worried until he came home smelling of another woman one night. you refused to believe it, so you stayed.

you were on your couch, reading a book. it wasn’t unusual for you to stay up late, but it wasn’t your favorite thing. you were tired, barely able to keep your eyes open. you needed to speak to race more than you needed sleep, though. you just wanted to talk to him, to set things straight.

he came into the apartment. he was sober as can be. he was very smiley. his blazer was thrown over his shoulder and his white dress shirt was untucked. his curly hair was messier than usual.

“where were you?” you asked, returning your focus from him to your book. your glasses were slowly slipping off your nose but you really didn’t care.

“working late,” he replied, his smile falling as he locked the metal door.

“until,” you glanced at the cable box across the room. “one o’clock in the morning?”

“yeah, new clients,” he threw his blazer on the kitchen chair next to him. then he undid the already loose tie, tugging it over his head and throwing it on top of the jacket.

“really?” you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. you took your glasses off and closed your book. “they’re really calling at one in the fucking morning? where were you?” you raised your voice a little bit.

“can we talk about this in the morning? god,” he muttered, unbuttoning his white shirt.

“no, anthony! you’ve been coming home late for weeks! what’re you doing out there?” you slammed the paperback book on the coffee table, making the lamp shake.

“would you relax? you're so controlling!” he shot back at you. you raised your eyebrows at him in disbelief.

“controlling? i just want to know where you are, if you’re okay!” you got off the couch and crossed the room to stand in front of him. “i’m sorry, hi i’m (y/n) and i worry about everyone, especially my boyfriend. nice to fucking meet you,” you grabbed his hand and shook firmly shook it. he retracted it, sighing. “where were you?”

“at the bar!” he shouted at you. you were taken aback, but that’s when you noticed a dark spot on his neck. you didn’t need to move his shirt collar to see it. it was there, clear as day on his pale skin. a million thoughts ran through your head, most being questions you didn’t want answers to.

“how many girls?” was the one you brought yourself to ask.

“just one,” he mumbled, barely audible.

instead of speaking, you went the kitchen sink. you took a plastic cup from the cupboard and ran it under the sink. you brought the plastic to your lips slowly, almost too nauseated to even drink water.

“who was she?” you softly spoke, placing the cup on the counter beside you. race walked over to you, blocking your view of the window across the room you were focusing on.

“does it matter? it’s over and it won’t happen again,” he took your hands in his. you avoided eye contact, knowing that if you looked at him, you’d break down.

“yes it does! who was she?” you looked at his shoes, then his pants, then finally his blue eyes. you tried your hardest to suppress any emotion that bubbled up.

“i can’t tell you,” his voice was small and gentile. you took your hands from his, grabbing the cup. you only made it to the table before slamming it down.

“why not?” you finally yelled at him. he flinched, surprised at your outburst. “because you’re too scared to hurt me? i’m already fucking hurt, anthony! i feel like i’m going to fucking vomit! who the hell was she!” your tears burned your cheeks. your whole body and voice were shaking with every uneven breath you took.

“no, i don’t want you to hurt her,” he leaned against the counter. you furrowed your eyebrows, racking your brain for who she could’ve been. everyone knew you were dating race. no one wanted to hurt you like this, at least to your knowledge. then it hit you.

“you cheated on me with casey?” you shouted at him. your neighbors were most likely awake and listening to the fight.

casey was your best friend up until recently. you had trusted her with your life. she was with you when your dad finally decided to leave. she knew everything about you. one day, she just changed into a different person. she stopped talking to you for no reason, then blocked your number and on social media platforms. she still followed your friends, which is how you assumed she knew race and you were together.

“she came onto me! i know it doesn’t excuse what i did, but it didn’t mean a thing to me, i swear,” he looked at you with sad eyes.

“anthony, you made a conscious decision to have sex with someone else. you fucking knew i wouldn’t have been able to handle that, but yet you did it anyway!” you laughed through the tears. your voice was forced and hoarse.

you moved from the kitchen to the window. you rested your hands on the cold windowsill, taking deep breaths. race exhaled loudly in the kitchen. he was pacing, probably running his fingers through his hair then dragging them down his face.

“why?” you spoke softly while looking at your hands.

“i don’t know,” he replied just as soft. that made you only made you angrier.

“you’re telling that you put yourself inside of another woman, just because?” you finally turned to look at him. you could feel your face and ears heating up. when race didn’t respond, your heart broke even more.

you walked to your shared bedroom, pulling a suitcase from your closet. you tossed it on the bed before roughly opening your dresser drawer.

“what’re you doing?” his voice was soft, almost a whisper. you could feel him watching you from the doorway.

“i’m leaving,” you said.

you managed to get a few articles of clothing into the suitcase before he came up behind you and put a hand on your shoulder. the contact made you instantly start crying. the whole time, you thought you were dreaming or something. the contact brought you back to reality.

“please don’t,” his voice was even softer than before.

“i have to. i will not let you cheat on me repeatedly. i will not look like a fucking idiot because i was too fucking blind to see it,” you spat. you closed the case, locking it. you put it on the floor before walking out of the bedroom.

“i’m nothing without you.”

those words made you stop dead in your tracks. “don’t say that to me. you don’t get to say that. go be with casey because i’m obviously not good enough for you! if i was good enough, you wouldn’t have cheated in the first place!”

“we were drunk, (y/n)!” he shouted. “we had a little too much to drink and then she threw herself at me!”

“really? were you drunk tonight? you don’t look it, or smell it,” you laughed again. “tony, you cheated on me. i don’t care if it was just one time, you still did it. i can’t let that slide, i’m sorry.”

“please,” he choked out as you unlocked the door.

“no, i’m sorry,” you opened the door.

“i thought you loved me.”

“i do, you just don’t love me.”

[ tags: @brooklyns-here-for-ya-erster @albertdasillva @who-is-the-king-of-new-york @newsies-trashboat @spot--conlon @notes-the-newsie @musical-trash-meg @racetrackscigar @rebecko @falloutboyzintheattic @auspiciousdaveyjacobs @we-dont-sell-papes @brooklyn-anon @viennaleia @raining-anon @fandomscraziness22 @broadwayandbookblog @i-got-personality @king-of-newyork @thembrooklynboysisbig @heytheywascoronas @thatshiscigar @elmers-half-a-cup

and my personal hype beast: @albertslamb ]

#racetrack higgins #race x reader #racetrack higgins x reader #newsies #newsies live #enjoy oof #i actually really love race #idk why i keep making him hurt #or hurt others #i have another cheating angst w him in my drafts OOF #i should be nice to him

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baekhyuq · 7 years

Text

"Lock n loaded" (m) | Yoongi 1k

Yoongi x You

Gun play!

Inspired by XXXTentacion. Genre: Smut-Angst

“No I don’t love you, no I don’t care.“

☆*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･’ ☆*‘･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡☆

The reflection of his face still remained in my mind, looking down at a piece of paper, a Polaroid reminded me of our brighter times. We laughed, we cried, we shared so many memories. But now we don’t talk anymore.

I don’t want to feel blue anymore

We exist in the same house, within each other’s presences. Nobody talks anymore, I’ve been waiting for the day he’ll touch me again. He’s always staring hard like a rock, and he’s cold like stone.

His facial expressions nothing more than tired. I want to much from him, I’m greedy. I want a good self esteem, love, dreams.

He gave me all I ever could ask for, and yet I’m still blue and selfish. Always sat in a high chair getting spoon fed everything I wanted like a brat. I know.

His eyes lowered to the book he was reading, nothing new. He’d sit and ignore me until I spoke up.

I stood from my spot on the ground and made my way to him, my heart in my hand. His eyes left from the paper to me as I stood in front of him.

“Let’s break up.”

It was the middle of December the coldest month of the year. Almost as cold as his heart. Min Yoongi the cold harsh winter weather.

“Okay, lets.”

In the middle of December is when I realized I’d said goodbye to early. The uh-oh moment came the second I walked out that house. The moment I walked out his heart.

In the middle of December the color blue was common. So was the feeling, very common. With his baggage in my hand, I threw it down the stairs. How easily he said we should break up infuriated me.

“Get out!” I screamed at him from the top of the stairs, tears streaming down my face. “Why are you doing this Y/n.” His question only pissed me off more.

“Why’d you agree that we should break up? Am I not enough for you? Are you seeing someone else?” I wouldn’t stop till I got answers. I threw more of his belongings down the steps. He’d stood calmly down at the bottom of the steps, his hand on the railing.

He took a step at a time to reach me, I threw more shit down the stairs to stop him from coming any closer because I knew he’d charm me into coming back. “Don’t come near me.” I sniffed, the tears crawling down my cheeks.

His eye stayed the same his cold stare directed on me, still waking closer until he’d reach me. “If breaking up is what you think it’s best for you, then I’m not going to get in your way. I want what’s best for you.” His smooth deep voice sounded so annoying. The exact words I didn’t want to hear.

“That’s not whats best for me! What’s best for me is you! You’re the only thing that used to make me happy, now you’re so cold to me. We don’t even speak to each other. We haven’t had sex in months. I’ve missed you so much but your so close so I can’t say that I missed you. You have no idea how many times I’ve contemplated leaving you. But I can’t because I love you so much. I just don’t get the mutual feeling from you anymore. I just want you and your attention! I’m so needy It feels like I’m going to explode!” I cried out hitting his chest.

“Baby..” he grabbed my chin and lifted my head. “You’re too overwhelmed by me. I get it, it’s time for you to find someone who will suit you better than I will.” His words drew a tear from my red eyes. “I-that’s not what-” he cut me off with a kiss, an apology as if he’s made up his mind on leaving me. I pushed his shoulder but he didn’t budge.

I cried into the kiss, not wanting to let him go. “Please dont leave me Yoongi.” I pleaded against his lips as he picked me up and carried me to our room that would soon be only mine within the amount of a day. “Please dont go.” I cried as he placed me on the bed, taking of an article of clothing one at a time till we were both naked.

“Yoongi, please.” His hand held my cheek and let it slide down to my throat, over my breasts onto my waist and to my hips. Savoring his touch like it was the last, and it was.

He leaned down to kiss all over my face, down my neck and onto my chest. Hickies left along with bruises, he pushed my hips down into the mattresss more. “I’ll miss you deeply, the feel of your skin, your sweet tastes.” He sighed nipping at my side as he lowered his mouth to my thighs.

“Yoongi…” my voice a whisper. He kissed my thighs getting closer to my heat, he lifted both my thighs over his shoulders and glanced at me. The sight I hadn’t seen in months, his beautiful face between my thighs, needy eyes and ruffled hair. I would truly miss this.

I nodded, laying my head back tears falling from my eyes. I had to let him go, for my sanity.

He dove in, lips attacking my clit and tongue swirling. The sigh that passed my lips could’ve been mistaken as a pleasurable one but it was a sigh of regret. He hasn’t even left yet and I miss him so much. He groped my ass picking me up higher off the bed to reach his mouth more, the angle making me shut my eyes.

“Open your eyes.”

I kept them close, not wanting to remind myself of him. He stopped assaulting my clit and sat up, positioning himself at my entrance before pushing in. And out. And In. And out.

His pace quickening, flipping me on my stomach, fucking me from behind. Whimpers escaping my throat, “Yoongi please don’t.”

I knew that if he came he’d leave. He’d leave and not turn back.

He angled my head to kiss me, bitting my bottom lip as an apology. His hand on my hip pushing me further into the bed. My ribs started to ache from the position.

He whispered a small sentence along the lines of “Im sorry.” His words meaning more than anything to me. He was leaving now. I twisted around to grab him by his waist and pull him into me, “Don’t leave me. I can’t bare this by myself, I won’t know how to survive without you.”

“I’ll make a bet with you.” He spoke, his eyes flickering up to mine. “If I cum first, I’ll stay, but if you come first I have to leave.” I nodded my head and I kid you not, I flipped him into his back and put his hands above his head.

“Since this is a bet I’m going to take this seriously.” I whispered in his ear, I felt him shiver slightly. “I hope you do considering I’m on the line.” He whispered back. I frowned for a second but soon replaced it with a smirk. I knew how to get him off fast. “You have 5 minutes.” He reminded me.

I sat on his length my back to him as I rode him, I knew he always loved reverse cow girl-he’d love to see any sight of a pair of thighs and an ass. I remembered the first time we had sex, it was anything but innocent. I wasn’t skilled or experienced he was my first everything. But he was very experienced and i wasn’t his first.

Goosebumps gathered on my skin as i turned around to see his eyes closed with his lips parted, a low groan sounded, erupting from his chest. His hands squeezed at my hips, thrusting up into me as i rode him.

I turned around to face him and took his hands and placed them on my breasts, guiding him in kneading them as i let out a silent moan. If this might be the last time i see him, i want to make it count. Taking his hands once more i pinned them down and started grinding on him harder but slowly. It felt like my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I felt the overwhelming pleasure. But as i neared my climax it didn’t come to me.

Yoongi held onto my hips preventing me from moving. "You’re times up.” he spoke. I looked down at him his eyes were already trained on me. He smirked as his chest was rising up and down, he looked down at where we were connected, i followed his eyes. His cum was leaking out of me, i didn’t even realize he had came, he was so quiet about it.

My eyes shot up to his, wide with shock. “Are you going to stay…with me?” I hesitated. I could’ve lost him, forever.

Yoongi flipped me into my back, surprising me. “I couldn’t be able to leave you if I tried…” He leaned down, kissing my chest working his way up to my face. “I love you so much you make me crazy.” He nuzzled his face into the side of my neck. “Really?”

“Yes,” Suddenly a something hard and cold was pressed to the side of my head. “And you’ll never leave me right?” He asked, my eyes grew in size.

He had a fucking gun.

“Right, Y/N?” When i didn’t answer i heard a clicking sound from the gun, before the gun was moved to my lips. He parted my lips with the gun, my tongue pressed against the gun, he grabbed my chin holding me still as he pushed the gun farther into my mouth before pulling it out. “Suck it like how you suck me off.” He flashed a grin that showed his teeth while he trailed the gun from my chest over my breast to touch my sensitive nipples.

He put the gun back in my mouth after he positioned himself back inside of me, filling me up completely. My heart was racing from the feeling of him and the thrill of him being able to take my life at anytime.

“I can’t just let you not come tonight now can I?” Yoongi took the gun from my mouth and placed it on my stomach, wrapping my legs around him for a better angle inside of me. “Ah…fuck” The first verbal moan I let out. Yoongi looked so breathtakingly hot hovering over me with sweat dripping down his body. His thrust were sharp and magical, they sent me over the edge and I climaxed. Without fail Yoongi made me moan out his name.

I looked at the gun resting on my stomach then to Yoongi. “Please take my life.” I whispered, my chest falling and rising. “I can’t Y/N, i’m not done with you. I have so much planned for our future.” His psychopathic smile aimed toward me. Yoongis eyes were blown out i’ve never seen him like this, the fact that he had a gun and could take my life kind of scared me.

“But i want to die,” I grabbed his hand placing it over the gun, he gripped it, i brought it to my mouth and took it in. Yoongi stared with slightly wide eyes, his lips parted as i heard a click sound, before he pulled the trigger. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the blow that never happened.

“Isn’t it thrilling?” Yoongi asked.

“Isn’t it thrilling knowing I could end your life at any given moment?” He smiled down at you taking the gun from your mouth to push it under your chin to make you face him.

“There were no bullets.”

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avidfanficwriter · 7 years

Text

I don't.

Chris pine x reader

Rated: m?

Summary: Many years ago you and Chris were in a relationship prior to him becoming the great Chris Pine, the household name that everyone knew. Sadly, as most couples fall victim; it fell apart but recently in an interview, Chris is asked of surprising information that brings his past back to the future.

Chapter 1: Gossip Vs. Reality.

2002

You and Chris Pine have been at the “Lakeside Bar” for a little over an hour originally there to celebrate your new job however it quickly turned into drinking more than either planned on. You watched Chris’ eyes turn a shade darker with every ounce of alcohol he poured down his throat, loved the way his voice grew raspy as he spoke to you. He extended his arm on the small table you two sat at and played with you shirt.

He was inebriated, shit faced in other terms. This beautiful man was slowly loosing his gentleman like appearance and falling victim to the alcohol. He was spewing nonsense, making sexual advances; rubbing your thigh, making excuses to kiss you. He was a twenty-two year old man who was acting like a sixteen year old getting drunk for the first time.

“I love you.” Chris says before swigging another shot, feeling the burning liquid slide down his throat. “Oh god.”

“You’re drunk, Christopher.” You say, matching his slur.

“Not drunk enough to know the truth.” He moves closer to you, snaking his hand around your waist pulling your body closer to his. “I really do love you.”

You blink slowly at him, your eyes threatening any moment to see black. “I love you.” Chris kisses you, his lips attacking you with such passion. There was a blur, lips attacking one another; hands filling up the others body until the tease could no longer be prolonged. The night continued, hitting a few more bars and later winding up in Chris’ one bedroom apartment creating a mess of clothes and furniture.

2016

Chris sits in his small dressing room, the familiar scent of flowers fill his nose from the small vase of daisy’s sitting on the counter near him, his head is buried inside of a gossip magazine finding no other way to help time go on. He relaxes in the small chair near the desk, he’s reading an article about a actress, he’s never heard of. Cheap gossip, he assumes. His attention is drawn away by a small knock on the door frame, it’s a younger woman; Henrietta, a natural brunette with a killer smile. She leans into the room, gently pulling her microphone from her mouth as she speaks:

“Chris, they’re ready for you.”

Chris smiles, he takes a look in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair and begins his journey out of the room. He walks past a few other people to the interview room, where a small woman, a bleached blonde sits in a chair. A large smile on her face as she speaks to a male in front of her. She’s wearing a tight red dress that didn’t look work appropriate, Chris was never one to judge however.

When her brown eyes meet his, she flashes her second smile of the night and extends her hand forward, shaking his hand; firmly.

“I’m very glad that you decided to take part in this, Chris.” She says, softly.

“It’s my pleasure.” he responds also smiling.

“It’s nice to meet you in person, I’m Cynthia Lawson.” She takes her hand from his and motions to the chair.

They take their seats, Chris in front of her and the cameras begin focusing on the two. The questions start off normal, asking how Chris became an actor what drew him to this career, why hr choose to portray a character that was so different than Captain Kirk, how he believed the audience would respond to sudden change of pace. Chris was polite, humoring the woman with every answer mainly to keep himself out of boredom. The question in interviews always seemed to remain the same, just spoken by another person with a different tone. it made the job seem boring. However Chris never complained, he’d smile and make it through the interview completely respectful.

The interview continued going over the typical question until the mood suddenly changed. The papers that had been resting on her lap since the interview began had her attention. She shuffled through the papers and once again asked another question.

“Now you’re single?” She asked but the tone made it sound like a point instead of a question.

Chris smiled, “ Yes.”

“Hmm….” She smirks, before turning another page and smiling at him. “You’re sure about that?”

Chris furrows his brow, “Yeah…” He answers confused, uncomfortably he shifts in the chair. He pulls his sleeve further down his shirt as he stares at her confused.

“I don’t think so.” Cynthia says, smiling. She crosses her legs in front of her and lays her eyes on Chris.

Chris tilts his head and blinks a few times, catching the attention of his assistant who also shares a look of confusion on her face. He clears his throat, “I’m sorry?”

Cynthia continues, her eyes never leaving Chris’ as she continues her intrusion. “I don’t think that you are being honest with us.”

Chris’ eyes search for someone in the room who should intervene yet the only person who seems the slightest bit concerned Is his assistant. She frantically looks st the clipboard she’s holding to see find the information on the interview. It was suppose to be a normal interview, normal questions but this was taking a turn for the worst.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Chris asks after another uncomfortable silence shared between the two.

Cynthia gives Chris a devilish smile, “Have you eve been unfaithful?”

Chris swallows deeply, “Uh—” he begins to get uncomfortable, unsure of where this is going. Interviews about movies had their twists and turns and personal questions but this felt like a trail. He was being questioned.

“You see I ask because you've been involved with a few women just these past years while you’ve been in a relationship with someone else. Which leads one to believe that you have either been cheating on a woman for ten or more years or you’ve been creating a facade of fake relationships.”

Chris’ mouth drops open, taken back by the statement. His eyes shift between the woman and the camera, shocked. “What– I don’t know what you mean.”

Cynthia pulls out another piece of paper and begins reading it, “What kind of man would keep his wife hidden?” She leans to her right, the paper resting tightly between her thumb and her index finger. “Has you career gotten so big that you don’t even care for her?”

Chris stutters, “i–wha–” he looks lost. His gaze never leaving hers as he tries to find the joke, the punch line anything to direct the conversation to another area. “I’m not married.” He finally says.

“This marriage certificate says otherwise.” She turns the paper around, holding it in front of Chris’ face.

He immediately rips the paper out of her hand, his eyes scouting the page for his name. There in dark black ink was his name written and a woman’s name just below his. His eyes grow wide and his mouth once again drops open in disbelief. the interviewer however seems to be in complete awe of her accomplishment. Chris’ eyes go back to his assistant who has her phone pressed against her ear, presumably speaking to someone else on his team. His silent prays are answered when she interrupts the interview, shoving her clipboard into the camera facing Chris’, shouting that the interview is over. She grabs his arms pulling him away all while his mind is still processing what happened.

As the assistant begins dragging Chris away, Cynthia doesn’t stop. The interrogation continues. “Are you denying your legally married to Y/N Y/L/N?” She shouts. He moved alongside the much smaller woman, her actions mimicking a security and if it weren’t for any other situation they found themselves in, he’d remark how cute it was to a see a woman who stood at exactly five foot pushing people out of his way. Yet as he continued to move, he wasn’t sure how his feet knew to of how is brain was able to communicate with his legs to tell them to move with everything going on.

When they made it to his dressing room, his assistant nearly three him into the wall, with frustration. “What the hell was that?” She shouted as she grabbed his items from the table and shoved them into as bag.

“I-I dont know.” he mutters, quietly. He rereads the certificate of marriage a hundred times, trying to understand what was going on. How this was happening and most of all if it was fake.

Henrietta looks at Chris was an annoyed look. “Let’s go.” She says, walking past him towards the door.

“We can’t leave in the middle of an interview.” He says slightly raising his voice.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to sit back down with that lady and have her grill you on a fake marriage?”

Chris sighs, slowly following her out of the room attempting to hide his face from the people surrounding them. The pair make it out of the building unscathed, Henrietta continues to lecture Chris the entire way to the car. The lectures don’t cease when the enter the car.

“You P.R. team is going to be on my ass.” She complains.

Chris’ hand is still tightly gripped around the certificate, folding the paper in half while his mind races. He looks out the window, watching the people of California go about their daily lives.

“Is there any truth to this marriage?” Henrietta asks, her hand running through her hair. Shocked and scared. He goes through the interview in his head, the words circulating. She repeats the question again, louder.

“No.” He says, quietly.

Just as Henrietta predicted the P.R. team was experiencing a nightmare, an article went on blast about this ‘marriage.’ Claiming Chris was a unfaithful husband and that he was a liar. Tarnishing the mans reputation over a lie. She handed Chris’ her cell phone allowing him to read the article.

He scoffs at the article, tossing the phone back to her; in disgust. Chris is dropped off at his home, told to remain mum until he hears back from someone. Keep out of the limelight. Don’t draw media attention.

He did as he was told, ordering a box of pizza and breaking into the six pack of beers that were left in his fridge. The certificate of marriage was left atop of the counter while he retreated to the couch. Turning on whatever game was playing, not caring if it was hockey, baseball or golf. He just needed something to distract his mind from the previous events.

He was on his second beer trying to find something else to watch when he switched to a gossip show and the first thing that was reported was Chris Pine’s tragic love story. Yet another piece of garbage that was intent on ruining him. He scoffed, annoyed. Watching the show out of spite. Shouting obscenities at the television as the hosts continued their mocking and berating. By the time he begins his fifth beer, he thinks back to the marriage certificate, who would have the audacity to fabricate such a story. He sits up straight, leaning his head into his hands and groaning. He scratches his head in annoyance when suddenly his eyes open, quickly, a shocked expression runs through his head.

He jumps up, his body language mimicking a terrified cat. His mouth hands open while panic sets over him. His beer falls to the floor, spilling over the brown carpet as he walks to his bedroom. He opens the top drawer in his dresser, the one he uses for paperwork; pieces of paper fall to the floor with his fit of rage. His floor is covered in paper and the drawer is nearly empty when he discovers the paper he was looking for.

Divorce papers.

His eyes scan over the document, catching certain words: “Dissolution of marriage”, “Shared between”; “Christopher Whitelaw Pine and Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.” He flips through the pages getting to the last page where there should be signatures and instead there is only one, hers. Her signature rests on the bottom of the dark line and his was never filled. The line that should have had his signature was empty, unwritten; a ring stain of what he can only assume is coffee is on the same page.

He drops to his knees, the paper beneath him crinkle upon impact. “Fuck.” he whispers, quietly.

Chapter two:

#chris pine fanfic #chris pine fic #chris pine fanfiction #chris pine imagine #christopher whitelaw pine #piney #Imagine #Chris pine #Chris pine x reader #Chris pine x you #Star trek #star trek beyond #star trek into darkness #Captain James T. Kirk #Captain kirk #captain james tiberius kirk #the finest hours #hell or high water

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realtyalbania · 7 years

Text

New Post has been published on Albania Property for Sale - Albanian Real Estate - Buy, Sell Rent

New Albania Property has been published on http://realtyalbania.com/the-dos-and-donts-of-albanian-real-estate-buying/

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You need good legal representation because complications during foreclosure acquisition. This could actually end up being an investment rather than an expense.

Make sure to ask your Realtor to supply you with a checklist. It is not uncommon for a Realtor to bring a checklist containing all facets of a home purchase, including shopping for neighborhoods to obtaining financing. Such a checklist enables you to dot all i’s and cross all your t’s.

Prioritize your goals when negotiating a final price for albania real estate for sale. Make sure you know all of your issues, including whatever expectations you hold for each. The strength of feeling you have for each expectation determines its priority in your top priority.

Most albania realty mistakes spawn from uninformed decisions. There is money to be made in albania property market, but identifying the good investments takes knowledge and skill. The advice below can help you to make confident purchasing property albania decisions. Now, you just need to follow through.

Most people are interested in learning about albania property, however, they are not always aware of how to do so on their own. This article has provided a lot of information about albania property. Now you can put the various things that have been gone over here to good use.

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