#and this comes with a free ponytail boy too

[firedragon1321]

This concept art sings a siren song. "Come little writer. Forget your other WIPs and do something with me."

Bitch, I already walked that road with Capsule Zaurus/Singularity and it placed me directly in

H E L L.

(I will return to these two someday.)

[mattyriddlesbitch]

Bare with me this is my first request. Imagine reader (Slytherin if you don't mind) is walking and bumps into the boys they try to pick on her but can't and ends up with her making a joke about Mattheo having a small penis, and he loves that she's able to shut him up even tho it's childish. Long story short he's like "It's not even small" and she's like "Prove it" and so hate sex.

Drink water, take a nap and overall take care ilysm! ✨

Thank you so much! I have been taking care of myself, I hope you all are too!

Brat

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: cussing, oral(male receiving), unprotected sex, hate sex, brat taming lol

18+ Minors DNI!

“So you wanna repeat what you said earlier? What was it? ‘Tiny, limp-dick ass’?” Mattheo said as he had your hair in a makeshift ponytail, fucking into your mouth. You were in the prefect's bathroom, your knees digging into the hard tile as you held onto his thighs. “Won't repeat it now, slut?” He smiled down at you, and you moaned around his dick, trying to respond back. He pulled you off his cock. “What was that, princess?”

“You are such a dick. Also a pervert, getting off on me talking shit.” You said, wiping the spit off from your mouth.

“You got it all wrong, angel.” He said before pushing your mouth back onto his cock. “I like putting brats in their place. Since you wanna use your mouth to insult me, I'm putting it to better use.” You tried replying, but gagged on his cock instead. He pulled you off again to let you speak.

“Bite me.”

“Gladly.” He smiled and pulled you up to stand, not even hesitating before biting your neck.

“I fucking hate you.” You winced at the harsh bite, which he soothed with a swipe of his tongue.

“Do you, now? If I checked, your pussy wouldn't be all wet then?” He said before biting your neck again.

“Shut the fuck up.” You closed your eyes, your breath getting heavier.

“All bark, no bite, love.” He teased and turned you around, pushing your front onto the sink.

“You're lucky I didn't bite your dick.” You rolled your eyes.

“I knew you wouldn't. You want me to fuck you. Can't do that if you bite my dick, huh?” He said as he pulled down your panties. “I knew it. Fuck. You're all wet for me.” He dragged a finger through your folds.

“Can you shut up and fuck me already?” You whined, hips jolting at his touch.

“Can you quit whining?” He retorted but did start pushing into you. “Fucking tight, shit, princess.” He moaned with you. He didn't wait for you to adjust, thrusting in and out of you as you whimpered from the mix of pain and pleasure. “Can you fucking relax? You're squeezing me, you fucking slut.”

“You didn't prep me, dickwad.” You hissed.

“Always so bratty. Can't you just be grateful for what I give you?” He grabbed your hair to look in the mirror at him. “Just be good for once.”

“If it bothers you that much, I'll keep being a brat.” You said, closing your eyes so you don't look at him.

“If that's how you wanna play it.” He let go of your hair and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides. “Might take a few sessions, but I'll break you.”

It was hard to reply with him choking you. Your eyes were rolling back as you felt lightheaded from it, only making the pleasure from him fucking you more intense.

“See, isn't that much better than fighting me? Just relax and cum on my cock, princess.” He said, bringing his free hand to your clit.

“Fuck.” You choked out, body trembling as your orgasm neared.

“Merlin, fuck, you're clenching me again. You're so close, angel. Just let go. Need to feel you cum.” He moaned, his thrusts losing its tempo as his own orgasm was close. “Cum on my cock like a good slut, come on.”

Your orgasm hit you and your legs nearly gave out as you cried out. He fucked you through it before pulling out and cumming on your ass and skirt.

“See, you can be a good girl for me?” He said, pressing a kiss to your hair before pulling your panties up.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[suntoru]

playing with genshin men’s hair

summary: lol setting their silky locks on fire

⤷ feat: diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, xiao, kazuha kaedehara, bbg scaramouche, shikanoin heizou, tighnari, kaveh

a/n: ik i said angst… but i js couldn’t resist 😋 it will be coming soon tho

warnings: fluff, a bit of swearing, maybe some sussies tbh i don’t remember

─ ✰ DILUC might be reluctant to let you take care of his hair at first, but once he experiences it, he’s addicted. he absolutely loves the feeling of you gently tugging the tie that holds his hair after a long day. it feels as though the burdens that once weighed him down are being set free by you, releasing him from his darkness. the soft smile you give him as you inquire about his day makes the weight of his everyday tasks it all worth it. your fingers work precisely, making sure to never rip out a hair or damage it in any way. he feels like he’s almost in heaven when you massage his scalp and detangle it with the utmost care. he hasn’t experienced such gentleness and care in such a long time, for even a mansion gets lonely without someone to come back to. even though you know he could just ask one of his maids for a professional head massage, it makes your heart melt every time he shyly asks if it would trouble you too much for you to do it.

─ ✰ KAEYA thinks you’re so adorable like this. comfortably seated on his lap, legs loosely straddling him, he thinks he’s in heaven. your eyes crinkle in concentration, lips pursing together as you try your best to make kaeya’s hair look as good as possible. originally, he asked if you could help him to tie his hair in his signature ponytail, but it seems you have veered off course from your original mission. you stick your tongue out and squint as you try and tie kaeya’s pigtails evenly, slightly irritated that a strand was poking out and wasn’t fitting. he’s trying not to laugh at the funny faces you pull, only because you’d pout and sulk in a corner if he mentioned it. kaeya finds it so endearing that you’re trying the best you can to be so gentle, as if you apply too much pressure he’ll break and shatter into a million pieces. he’s studying every small change in your expression, entertaining himself in the midst of your little hairstyling session. when you pull back, much to your delight, kaeya’s even cuter in pigtails then you ever imagined. paired with your pink bows, it’s hard not to squeal over how soft he looks.

─ ✰ XIAO gives you the side eye the second you pull out the bright pink hello kitty hair clips from your bag, instantly dreading his decision to answer your call. not really he’d ditch teatime gossip with babagrill zhongli for u <3 “you want me to do what?” as if the answer wasn’t already obvious 🙄 his cheeks turn just as pink as the hair clips, then he vanishes with a poof, gone as fast as he came. he’s just flustered, don’t worry, he’ll be back any minute! as you silently wait for his return, you secretly spell y/n’s on the back of the clip :) when he gets back, he’s hit with your barrage of attacks, (puppy dog eyes n pouts) and he ends up caving. while you’re clipping the hair out of his face, he refuses to make eye contact with you, eyes burning the floor in embarrassment. you’re really going to be the death of him though, when you start to coo at him. “awww, my cutie patootie pretty baby boy is so gorgeous!” he can’t take it and teleports again but bumps into ganyu and ventitty 💀 embarrassed, he teleports back to you n he refuses to tell you what happened 😞 you try and concentrate on xiao, but you just can when he looks so adorable it’s not your fault :((( the pink kitty clips accentuate his hair n when he pouts it’s just ☹️ what have u created

─ ✰ KAZUHA would never want to inconvenience you in any sort of way, but when you beg him so nicely, it would be meaner of him not to accept… right?? he absolutely relinquishes by the way your face lights up instantly at his yes, a giddy smile you can’t contain spreading across your face. pulling you toward him, he kneels on the ground so you can sit comfortably while doing his hair 🥹 adjusts his head too so you won’t have to strain your arms. (boyfriend material™) he hums the tune of your favourite songs to fill up the peaceful silence that surrounds your room. once you’re done tying his hair, you’re a little bit anxious for his reaction. he’d never judge you, no, but… his ponytail is breaking free in some parts, the hairtie is tangled in his hair, it’s tied too tight at the base, and you’re sure by the time the day ends, his head will be sore. overall, it’s not your best work, and you feel you’ve caused more trouble than help. “y’know kazu… maybe you should just do it yourself!” you reach to untie the scrunchie, but he gently grabs your wrist and assures you that it’s fine, he’ll love it either way. standing up, he smothers your face in kisses, making sure to express his appreciation. “thank you dove, it’s lovely. now let me repay the favour.”

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE “what is the point of this? it seems useless.” sprawled lazily across the couch with his head on your lap, oversized hat long forgotten as he stares up into your eyes. he expects to find your true motive, the thought of you betraying him screams inside of his head. but he finds nothing but love and reassurance, no anger or resentment in the window to your soul. in that moment, all his doubts disintegrate as he ever so slightly nuzzles his head further into your legs. nails dragging on his scalp, you gently scratch his head as you read the latest novel you’ve received from a friend. the feeling is warm, intimate, mundane. it’s new, but not rejected, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he’d admit. you appreciate the peaceful moment, but what’s a relationship without a little bit of teasing? “hmm? oh, you don’t like it? i’ll just stop then.” you raise your hand to move it off, but scaramouche’s reflexes are faster. he pushes your hand back onto his head, a slight blush tinting his cheeks. “idiot. i never said to stop.”

─ ✰ HEIZOU loves the attention he gets when you style his hair. both from you, and other people. what’s not to love about it? sure, he sacrifices some of his dignity walking around with elastic bands bunched up in the most randomness places, but can that really be measured to your happiness? the silent giggles and playful smiles you give him while sits patiently for you is absolutely everything. he basks in the fact that while you’re styling him, he’s all you’re focusing on, loving the care you provide for him. he especially loves it when you put headbands on him, the ones with cute designs :((( or when you use a claw clip to really show off that he’s taken, this little bitch gets so smug at the fact that you’re protective of him. even if all the other detectives tell him he looks goofy in it, or the citizens inazuma can’t peel their eyes off of him, he still keeps his head high and carefree personality intact. instead, he just laughs it all off, and takes it as jealousy. he thinks that they wish they had a gorgeous significant other who puts this much effort into him. after all, who cares about other people’s opinions when yours is the one that only really matters?

─ ✰ TIGHNARI is practically obsessed with the feeling of your hands carding through his hair, massaging his sensitive ears after a long day of patrolling. sometimes he gets overstimulated by all the noise, so it’s nice feeling your gentle fingers take away that pain. he talks to you about his latest discoveries and how he’s so close to unlocking the full potential of a certain plant. if you’re not paying close enough attention, you’ll miss the breathy sighs and contented mumbles he’ll make. unlike another fluffy eared boy, he won’t try and resist you if you touch his ears. he won’t explicitly tell you he likes it, but it’s quite obvious given the lack of protests he gives when you ask. you feign ignorance for his sake, just happy that you get to touch possibly the softest ears in all of sumeru :(( if you ask the any of the other rangers, tighnari wouldn’t ever let anyone touch his ears or tail, sassing them if they even tried to ask. but when you do it, you’re welcomed with open arms and endless cuddles. you’re just special 🫠 collei is super jealous

─ ✰ KAVEH certainly is something else. for the entire day, he’s followed you around the akademiya, accompanying you as you make your rounds. as much as you love seeing his pretty face, you’re certain that his motives aren’t that innocent as helping you out. choosing to keep quiet, you just continue on instead of making a big deal out of it. at the end of the day, you thank him for his help as his chest puffs up with pride. however, when you turn around to leave, his jaw drops. seriously? not even a thank you kiss or hug? not even the thing he wanted the most out of all? as you collect all of your things to leave, he starts to panic. “b-but y/n, aren’t you forgetting something?” he stutters. “oh, you’re right! thank you for reminding me!” you exclaim as he sighs in relief. he closes his eyes for a glorious head pat, but is instead disturbed of his bliss from the sound of your keys jingling. he visibly deflates, giving up on trying to receive your affection. “i’ll be off now. thank you kaveh!” patting his head and giving a peck to his cheek, you run off so you’ll get home before it turns dark. doing so, you miss seeing his previous downcast expression morphs into a lovesick everlasting smile.

©hawkssimpsblog 2023.

[f1byjessie]

HE LIKES MY AMERICAN SMILE ━━ OP81.

love is a wild ride, and logan sargeant's sister is about to find this out the hard way.

( oscar piastri x sargeant!reader )

━━ part eight.

When you were ten, a boy at recess pulled on your ponytail. He yanked you around, laughed when you’d shouted for him to stop, and then only let you go when you’d begun to sob. Dalton had done your hair that morning and the little clip-in bow he’d added was askew, and no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t fix it. It was this, more than the actual pain of having your hair pulled, that made you inconsolable.

Logan found you crying beneath the jungle gym, surrounded by a gaggle of other girls all trying to help. He crouched down next to you, all skinny-armed and knobby-kneed, wiped your tears with the sleeve of his shirt, and asked you who’d done it.

Logan punched the boy in the face after you’d told him. He was sent to the principal’s office for his trouble, but that boy never messed with you again and it was the first time you realized that your brother would do anything for you.

He was grounded, too, and had to sit through a huge long spiel from your parents about using words instead of fists, but Dalton had given Logan a pat on the back and assured him that he’d done the right thing.

He hadn’t punched anyone for you since then, but in Switzerland Logan had been your lifeline. Whereas he was quickly befriending the other boys he was racing with, you struggled. There weren’t many girls who understood why you were always busy on the weekends, or why you couldn’t come over for sleepovers, or why you always had to turn down birthday party invitations— and subsequently, they didn’t want you around if all you did was bail anyway.

Dalton was at that point in his life when he thought he was too old to hang around his little sister, so Logan had been your best friend. He’d let you paint his nails in the hotel rooms before races, and then he’d help paint yours so you could match. He only let you practice makeup on him once, because the mascara wand poked his eye and he’d been too scared to try it after, but it was fun while it lasted. He took all your pictures for you, went with you when you wanted to try a new cafe or see a new movie, and even tried to follow along when you gossiped about boys.

You think back to that time and wish he were here with you now. Maybe he would punch Oscar, or maybe he’d just sit with you and let you paint his nails like you used to. What you really just want is your brother.

You want him to use his sleeve to wipe your tears again, and you want him to somehow make it all better like he always seems to know how to do.

You want to go home.

You feel so stupid. How could you believe he was ever interested in you? Of course he was just trying to forget it all happened, and anything else you interpreted as flirting or potential interest was probably just Oscar trying to be polite because that’s the type of person he is. He’d cut off his own hand if it meant not causing a scene. He was probably just trying to find a way to tell you that he doesn’t ever want to see you again and he can’t think of you as a friend anymore because he can somehow tell that the kiss meant more to you than it ever did to him, and he thinks it’s weird that you’re so attached to him, and he can’t stand being around you because just the idea of having to pretend to like you is appalling—

A sob bursts free and you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the rest that follow.

Years of a friendship thrown away because of a stupid mistake you both made on a single night. You should’ve never listened to Sophia and Lando. You should’ve just pretended it never happened like Oscar was so keen on doing, and when he started distancing himself you should’ve taken it in stride and let it happen even though the idea of it felt like tearing your heart out. Maybe if you’d just let him go he would’ve at least come back eventually, after the awkwardness and discomfort had passed. Now he probably won’t ever want to look at you again, much less joke around and hang out the way you used to.

And God, you’ve probably ruined it for Logan now too! How could Oscar possibly look at Logan the same way either if it means having to awkwardly dance around your very existence? You’ve ruined your brother’s best friendship for him and now when you face him and explain how it’s all your fault, he’ll blame you and never want to speak with you again and then you’ll be well and truly alone.

You’re at the edge of the lawn and crumple to your knees, sinking to the ground and ignoring the fact that the grass is cold and slightly damp. It’s seeping into the fabric of your dress, but you don’t care. Something as superficial as your ruined makeup and stained clothes seems obsolete in comparison to everything else you’re feeling.

Through the blurriness of your tears, you can still see the warm glow of the lights shining outward through the windows, just beyond your reach. But the cold darkness of the Monagasque night swathes you, and your thoughts mirror the dreariness.

Oscar hates you, which mean Oscar hates Logan, which means Logan hates you, and by proxy Alex and Lily hate you, and because everyone else on the grid hates you, that means Lando hates you too. If they hate you, then their fans hate you, which will ruin your career and nobody will ever want to work with you again. You’ll lose everything you worked for and it’s all your fault—

You clamp your eyes shut and bite down on your lip to keep another devastatingly heartwrenching sob at bay.

This life was never meant to be yours— the racing life. You should’ve remained focused on your career instead of worried about some boy. You should’ve been happy with what you had, because now you’ve lost it all and you can’t fathom how you can possible get any of it back.

The door opens and the current bane of your very existence steps out, silhouetted by the lights behind him. His phone is held up to his ear, but between the shadows cast across his face and the tears in your eyes you can’t make out much else, just that one minute he’s stood on the stoep and the next he’s spotted you and is making a mad dash across the lawn.

“Oh my God, Y/N,” he says, falling to his knees beside you and immediately reaching out to place a steadying hand on your shoulder. His hand is warm against the chill of your skin, and you know you need to pull away, you know you need to distance yourself from him so he doesn’t hate you even more, but you can’t bring yourself to do so.

“You’re fucking freezing,” he mutters, low and concerned, before he’s slipping off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders, attempting to rub some warmth back into your arms through the fabric.

It makes you sob even harder.

His hands freeze, hovering over you. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You scrunch up your face and shake your head. “No, Oscar, nothing is okay,” you somehow manage to get out between hiccups and stuttering breaths.

He’s going to hate you, he’s going to hate you, he’s going to hate you—

He pulls you against his chest and then wraps an arm around you, hugging you close. His hand cups the back of your head and presses you into the crook of his neck. You can feel his pulse point where he’s got you held, and his heart is racing. “What is it? What’s happened?”

You should push him away. He’s only doing this to comfort you because you’re a person in need and Oscar is the type of guy who would help anyone even if he can’t stand them. He’s just nice like that. But the feeling of him against you, so comforting and warm, is intoxicating and you’re not as nice as him. You want to be selfish, and you want this all to yourself from now until forever, but you know that the second this moment ends you’ll never have it again so you’re choosing to savor it.

“Y/N,” he says again, running his fingers through your hair. “You have to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“I’ve messed it all up,” you say, voice muffled against his neck. “It’s all ruined and it’s all my fault.” You manage to swallow back the sobs, but another wave of tears spills over and dampens his skin.

He makes a noise, and pulls you even closer still. “What could you have ruined?”

“Everything!” You exclaim while reaching up and grabbing at his shirt. You let your fingers twist into the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this moment, and all Oscar does in response is continue to hold you. He scratches at your scalp and runs his fingers through your hair, and shushes you gently when your breath stutters again.

“It’s New Year's Eve,” you start after another moment, “and my twenty-third birthday, and instead of being happy and celebrating it with my brother like I should be doing—” the thought of Logan makes you sob once again, “—I’m in Monaco trying to pretend like I’m not in love with someone who hasn’t spared me a glance the entire time I’ve been here!”

It sounds stupid when you say it like that. It is stupid, you think, but now on top of everything else you’re convinced Oscar probably thinks you’re even stupider now than he already did. At the very least you had plausible deniability before, but now you’ve confessed that you’re in love with him of all things. Love! You hadn’t even known that yourself before you’d blurted it all out in a word vomit of feelings.

He hates you, he hates you, he hates you—

Oscar tenses and his hand stills, but he doesn’t pull away. “Lando’s been sparing you plenty of glances,” he mutters, sounding dejected for reasons you can’t possibly begin to theorize on.

You take a deep breath and swallow what little is left of your pride. You’ve already ruined things beyond repair so nothing else you do can possibly make things worse. You shake your head against him and cling to his shirt even more. “It’s not Lando I’m in love with.”

“What..?”

“Lando and I aren’t together, Oscar,” you whisper against his skin.

“Well, I know that,” he clears his throat. “But I thought… he flirts with you all the time. And you flirt back.”

You groan, thankful that at least your face and the horribly pink flush that’s risen to your cheeks is hidden where you’re tucked away. “He had this whole elaborate plan where he’s been trying to make you jealous so you’ll ‘man up’ and do something about it,” you explain, feeling more and more embarrassed as each word comes out.

Oscar hums. “So, he’s not pursuing you?”

“No!” You’re honestly afraid of what you must look like right now, certain that your makeup has been smeared with your tears across your face, but you pull away from Oscar just far enough to meet his eyes, managing to give him a look that asks if he’s being genuine right now. “I mean, Christ, Oscar, he made us share a bed. He was just trying to help me because I didn’t know how else to get your attention without risking our friendship entirely, and that’s the plan he came up with and I just went along with it because what else was I supposed to do?”

He looks surprised. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are pink from the chill of the night. It reminds you that his jacket is still draped across your shoulders, and you go to shrug it off and give it back to him, but his hands snap to yours and keep them pinned there.

When you meet his gaze again, he looks softer. Gentle. Not at all like someone who’s supposed to hate you. For a moment you think it’s the closest you’ve gotten to before Bahrain ever happened, but then you realize this is the same way he looked in the car outside your hotel, right before he kissed you.

“You could’ve talked to me,” he whispers, lips quirking at the corner as if all of this is just a big joke and he’s getting ready to laugh at the punchline.

“Oh, yeah,” you roll your eyes, “let me bring up the one kiss we shared that you seemed real intent on pretending never happened!”

“I never brought it up because I thought I was taking advantage of you and I was ashamed!”

You stare at him, and then despite looking like a mess and freezing your ass off, you burst into laughter and collapse against his chest. He rolls with it, letting you settle against him easily and then wrapping his arms around you and pulling you even closer.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we…” you murmur against him.

“Making fools of ourselves? No. But communicating? Absolutely.”

You sit there on the lawn for a while longer, letting the chill seep into your bones, until the front door opens again and Lando comes stepping out. He looks baffled when he spots the two of you hugging on the grass, but then a shit-eating grin stretches across his face and he strides over looking proud of himself.

“Well, having fun are we?” He asks when he comes to a stop before you both.

You can’t see Oscar’s face from where you’re resting against him, but you can feel him shift and his chest rumbles against you when he answers, “Oh, yeah. It’s a real party out here.”

“Funny you should say that, ‘cause there’s actually a very real and very fun party happening inside right now and people are starting to ask where the two of you are, so—” Lando shrugs, “—rather not have to tell them you two were shagging out on the grass of all places.”

You snort and Oscar sighs. “I’m not sure where you got the idea that we’re shagging from. Obviously we still have our clothes on, Lando,” he retorts.

Lando claps his hands, smiling, “Okay, then, whatever you kids these days are calling it, my front yard is not the place for it, so get on now. Move it! Up you get!” He shoos at you both like you’re a couple of unruly dogs he’s trying to usher elsewhere.

Oscar lets go of you long enough to climb to his feet, and then he’s offering his hand to help you up as well.

You take it, and thank him with a sheepish smile before glancing down the check the damage that’s been dealt to your dress. Thankfully, there’s doesn’t seem to be much of a stain, but there is a wet patch that you know will be noticeable if you don’t change. On top of that, you’re still certain your makeup has probably been ruined, and you’re already embarrassed enough by having Oscar and now Lando see you like this. You’d be absolutely mortified if anyone else in that house managed to catch you looking so messy.

“You good?” Lando asks you specifically when he catches you staring down at the dampness of your dress.

“Yeah,” you answer when you look up and meet his eyes. “Should probably go get changed, though. And fix up my makeup.” You rub at your eyes shyly, trying to do what you can here and now as if that’ll make it any better.

“We’ll make an excuse for you,” Oscar says, reaching a hand out to brush against your shoulder before him and Lando turn and begin making their way back to the house.

You follow shortly after him, lingering in the night for a moment longer. You feel lighter, and the darkness feels more like a comforting blanket of serenity now than an oppressing shroud of loneliness. When you realize his jacket is still draped over your shoulders, you wrap it tighter around your arms to take advantage of the remaining warmth that clings to it, and then you hurry across the lawn into the house.

Stepping into the entryway, you can hear Lando’s voice in the livingroom just beyond. You scurry up the stairs, moving as quickly as you can so you can return to the party.

When you get to your room, you take a moment to think about what in the hell just happened as you change. The week alone has been such a whirlwind of highs and lows. You’d been devastated when Oscar had first arrived, then you’d had one of the best weeks of your life, and then you’d had the closest thing you’ve ever had to a meltdown out on Lando’s front yard because you were convinced you’d just ruined everything you’d ever worked for and thrown it all away because of a dumb choice. A few laughs and cuddling on the grass doesn’t seem like enough to just completely brush away all the miscommunication that happened between you and Oscar, but it seems like a good place to start for tonight and that’s all you can ask for.

There will be other days and other nights where you can sit down and talk about where it all went wrong and how to keep it from going that way again, but for now it’s New Year’s Eve, it’s your 23rd birthday, and there’s a party just downstairs filled with people that know how to celebrate like no other.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 54,134 others

yourusername my 2024 is going great so far ☕️👀

view all 2,453 comments

user OH MY GOD?? IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH???

logansargeant at least you’re not hungover

↳ yourusername oh trust i am VERY hungover rn 😔 hence coffee in bed

↳ logansargeant omg twinsies 😀

↳ yourusername yes bc our shared hangovers is the only reason we’re twinsies

user wish i could’ve woken up like this this morning 😭😭

user manifesting this for 2024

landonorris keep it pg13 in there kiddos

↳ user ASKAHAOUFHALD WHAT???

↳ user WE NEED DELULU DETECTIVES IN HERE PRONTO

user oscar’s liked the post but he hasn’t commented, lowkey sus ���

↳ user y’all are actually crazy wtf?? can a man not just like a post anymore??

user she’s still in monaco right?? so it’s gotta be one of the mclaren boys

↳ user if she doesn’t reveal who it is by bahrain 24 then i’m gonna lose my mind

↳ user catch me hyperanalyzing every moment of y/n on the paddock to see who she’s with to try and solve the mystery

user seriously how cAN ONE PERSON LOOK SO STUNNING 😫😫😫

alex_albon happy new years y/n! me and lily loved getting to celebrate with you yesterday!

↳ yourusername happy new years to you as well! had the time of my life getting to see you both! we definitely need to do it again sometime 💙

━━ tags: @f1-is-lovely-33 @chasing-liberosis @405rry @aquangxl @bellezaycafe @peqch-pie @formulaal @chonkybonky @mess-is-my-aesthetic @flippingmyshit @peachiicherries @spacegirlstuff @myxticmoon @landosgirlxoxo @k-pevensie28 @moonypixel @lewisvinga @81vas @maih23

━━ a/n: hehehe here we are folks! that conflict resolution is finally here! also, i think this is actually the longest part i've written so far? but i wanted to get everything sorted in a single chapter instead of having another cliffhanger or dragging things on for too long. it's also 3AM as i'm finishing this up and getting it posted, so my apologies if there are any editing mistakes that i missed! i am very sleep deprived! anyways, i hope you all enjoy!

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨

　　　　　　　　　𝒑𝒂𝒖𝒍 𝒍𝒂𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒆 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Paul finally gets the courage to say "I love you" for the first time.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, on Wattpad.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N's eyes slowly opened as she tried to adapt to the brightness of the space, rays of the morning sun completely entered through the window covered only by a thin curtain, keeping the room warm and comfortable.

The girl turned her head as she stretched lazily, a smile stretching across her cheeks as her eyes stopped on the face of her boyfriend, Paul, who was lying on his back, eyes closed and small snores coming from his half-open mouth.

Y/N shifted her body to the right, facing Paul while her head rested on his bicep, which served as her pillow every night she slept at his house.

Her eyes traveled over his face, which carried a relaxed expression. His long eyelashes rested on his tan cheeks, and his nose moved slightly from time to time, showing that his mind was immersed in some dream. Y/N felt like she could stay there all day, her left hand drawing small shapes on her boyfriend's bare chest.

After a few minutes of admiring him, the girl felt her hunger speak louder, sitting up slowly so as not to wake Paul, smiling in relief at not seeing him move even an inch, showing that he felt extremely calm and safe in her presence.

Y/N slowly got up from the bed, casting one last glance at Paul before starting her steps out of the room and towards the kitchen, her hands using the black hair tie on her wrist to tie her hair into a high ponytail.

The girl entered the kitchen, a yawn escaping her lips. She walked over to the small radio on the counter and played it, leaving it on the station she always listened to with Paul, turning down the volume a little so as not to disturb her boyfriend's sleep.

Y/N walked to the fridge and opened the door, vaguely observing the items inside, deciding to make a creamy scrambled egg with buttered bread and a fruit salad with yogurt, knowing that Paul felt hungrier than normal and a simple loaf of bread wouldn't sustain his stomach for more than 30 minutes.

She took what she was going to use, placing it on the sink and doing the same with the cabinet, organizing separately what she would use for each dish and starting to prepare breakfast.

With the bread already in the toaster and the water already heating for black coffee, the girl took a ceramic bowl and broke five eggs there, stirring them with a fork.

Sounds of footsteps echoed through the hallway between the bedroom and the kitchen, but it was imperceptible to Y/N, who was too focused on her action and the music coming from the radio.

Paul leaned his body against the threshold of the kitchen door, crossing his arms as his eyes admired his imprint preparing coffee for both of them while softly following the melody on the radio, a smile stretching across his cheeks at the scene so homely, free from weight and worry from all the chaos that has surrounded the supernatural beings of Forks over the last few months.

The opening whistle of the song "Home" by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros sounded through the room, catching Paul's attention. That song was considered one of the main songs of their relationship, as it played during the first bonfire that Y/N attended as Paul's companion. The memory of the two of them dancing together late at night, bare feet on the sand, surrounded by people they loved and lots of food was engraved in their minds.

The boy walked away from the door, going towards Y/N, who swayed her hips to the beat of the music as she passed the eggs to the frying pan on the stove.

Warm, strong arms surrounded the girl's waist, causing her to jump in place in fright, her right hand flying to Paul's arms while her left went to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

"You scared me!" Y/N said loudly, slapping weakly her boyfriend's arms, taking the spatula from the sink and stirring the eggs in the pan before it burns.

"Sorry, my love. Good morning." Paul responded in a whisper, resting his head in the crook of his girlfriend's neck, breathing in the natural scent of her skin and the body cream she had applied the night before after her shower. "Remember this song?"

"How can I forget? It's our song, it marked the beginning of our relationship." Y/N responded in a low voice, not wanting to burst the bubble that seemed to settle around them.

"Yes, I will never forget you dancing in that beautiful white dress that night, the bonfire behind you, and the smell of food in the air. Remembering that memory makes me love you even more." Paul commented with a goofy smile on his face, closing his eyes briefly, seeming to see the scene in front of him again.

Y/N's right arm, which was previously moving the spatula against the eggs, suddenly stopped, catching the boy's attention, who raised his face and moved so that he was next to his girlfriend, watching her with confused eyes.

"You love me?" She asked in a whisper, turning off the heat and dropping the spatula into the frying pan, turning around and facing him.

Paul replayed in his mind what he had said seconds ago, the understanding that he had said that he loved her flashed across his eyes, a nervous smile expanding on his face as his heart accelerated, fear settling in his chest.

"Yes, I love you." He revealed, knowing that was no coming back, looking at her closely, observing her reaction closely.

His heart warmed at the sight of his girl's eyes shining with tears as her mouth opened slightly in surprise, Y/N's right hand going to her own chest in disbelief.

"Oh Paul, I love you so much." She reciprocated, a tear escaping her eyes as she walked closer to her boyfriend, laying her head against his warm chest, her arms wrapping around his waist.

Paul sighed in relief, his eyes also filling with tears as he pulled Y/N closer, hugging her tightly.

"I've loved you since before I understood what that kind of love meant. The first time I saw you, I gave myself completely. When we kissed for the first time after you accepted me as yours, I became an addict and I knew that no one else could make me feel such an electric spark. Y/N, the moment I looked into your eyes for the first time, I knew I would follow you to the end of the world if necessary. And I don't say that because you're my imprint, my love for you goes far beyond that." Paul declared, pulling away slightly so he could look into his girlfriend's eyes, a huge smile decorating his features.

"Paul, it's not fair of you to make me cry at a time like this." Y/N muttered, her voice cracking with emotions. Paul brought his large hands to her face, wiping away the tears that wetted her flushed face. "I love you so much, I promise I'll be yours for the rest of our lives." She whispered, her heart overflowing with love, passion, and affection.

The boy bent down slightly, sealing his lips on hers in a slow kiss, full of the best feelings. A sigh escaped Y/N in pleasure, surrendering to the kiss and Paul's arms.

The sound of the wolf's stomach begging for food interrupted them. Y/N let out a laugh against Paul's lips, opening her eyes slowly and walking away, smiling big and turning to the stove again, going back to finishing breakfast for both of them.

Paul's arms remained around his girlfriend's body seeking contact and comfort, his heart warm, as their bodies moved slightly to the melody of the songs that sounded from the radio.

They felt like they could stay there forever, surrounded by the best feeling, love.

[joonieskinks]

She's it For Me (f)

Simon (Ghost) Riley x reader | fluff | around 900 words. short, cute.

AN: I know this isn't BTS, so you can feel free to ignore if that ain't your thang. It was just a little piece that finally got me back into writing after a busy couple months here. Enjoy some Simon Ghost Riley if he's your cup of tea too lol <3

Simon Riley threw his back against the wall for cover, hands manically preparing his gun to unload the next set of rounds. This was supposed to be an easy going mission, a simple fetch and return of some intel. No one was truly prepared for the ambush that came and unexpectedly landed right in the 141’s lap. Especially not Simon. 

But you certainly were. 

And that certainly was a surprise for the masked Lieutenant when you came whipping up to the wall he was against, blood splattered on your face, your arms brushing.

He knew you had a background in the field, some stealth operations… At one point you were a sniper for a couple missions here and there when a substitute for a man was needed - like today -, but you transitioned into the medic role pretty naturally. It was always your gift, tending to people and caring for their wellbeing. Not that you were getting any younger either, medic was a safe, secure position in the military and you enjoyed it. It was tamer than being out with the boys in action of course, but it had its close calls and moments. It just stuck, earned you the nickname “Stitch” and you made your way into the squad’s hearts. Took some warming up though, especially Simon. Of course him. 

You thought he hated you for the longest time, but Soap convinced you otherwise and you eventually learned that he’s just like that. And with almost everyone, but you appreciate who he is more now. The man you’ve come to know and love, much to his obliviousness. Even when you’re practically straddling him in his hospital bed trying to close a bullet wound to his shoulder, holding your breath at the proximity of you two. You’re shaking, you’re sweating, you’re looking into his eyes, his bare face for the first time, at his lips, he’s gripping his hands around your thighs and squeezing when the pain stings too much- Yeah, you think he still doesn’t get it then. 

But you can see he certainly does now looking at you in the heat of battle. Your hair’s pulled back into a ponytail, which flows into a braid. You’re in your tactical gear, a little bit of someone’s blood splattered across your cheek. You look up at him, watching him stare at you and your eyebrow quirks up. 

“You good, Simon?” He loves when you use his real name, gets him every damn time. He thanks God that he has his mask on or else you’d see the red blush overpowering his cheeks.

“Y-Yeah. Are you?” You smile at him, and all he can think about is how hot you look. Simon has always been attracted to you. He would jump at any excuse to touch you, to ogle you if he can, to be with you - especially when you were fixing up his wound. The image of you above him, legs spread over his abdomen, that’s something he will never forget.

It’s just now that he realizes nope, no one else can have you because you’re his girl. He thinks he’s felt this way for a long time, but seeing you like this when you’re normally the one doing all the healing instead of shooting - Well, he thinks this side of you has sent him over the edge into territorial mode. And you can sure as hell read him like a book right now, his body language and eyes practically begging you to let him touch you. 

“Simon, I think we should talk after this”, you touch the side of his mask slightly, looking up into his eyes. He’s not looking away and moves to bring his fingers under your chin, keeping your gaze on him. 

“I think we should do something other than talking too, love”. You let out a laugh at the implication. You can only bite your lip and nod, your hand dropping to his chest and eyes to where his mouth would be. He knew what you wanted, and he let his head bow down until your foreheads met. Simon tucked some of your loose hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek, your jaw and down to the back of your neck. He moves to bring his mask up just enough to expose his lips-

“God!” You screamed at the surprise, a bullet cracking against the wall just behind the two of you. Simon hadn’t even realized he had brought you against his chest, his arms wrapped around your body and bringing you two as close as you could with all your armour on. 

“We’ll continue this later, okay?” He said sweetly, before kissing your temple and moving around the corner, gun up and aimed. 

You smiled and gently touched the spot where his mask had brushed your skin, the kissing noise he had ever so slightly made echoing in your ears. You felt like a 10 year old at the playground, smiling after a boy again. But honestly, it filled your heart up with hope and even more love for the Brit. 

Maybe you should join them in the field more often if it means Simon Riley will swoon at the sight of you. 

// :)

[billskeis]

o em gee I love you AND your writings sm, can I ask for a smut maybe like 2009 tom and js like let’s say he woke up from a nap and he like gets a boner and when he asks the reader to help him , they say yes n’ hes js spitting out sweet swords and stuff ty and make sure u get some rest! 🤍🙏

luv u 2 lets makeout :3c

ᡣ𐭩 tom’s post nap boner

tom woke up with an uncomfortable feeling, almost breathing heavy as he blinked away the sleep in his body. looking around, he noticed you were no longer laying in bed with him. as concerned as he was, there was an even bigger problem at hand. that concerning the morning, or, afternoon wood that he had woken up with.

“hi tom!” he turns his head to met the voice that called out to him. you were already awake, feeling a little bit craving, you left your bedroom not too long ago to go grab a snack and a glass of water. sitting down at the edge of the bed, you gulped down the last bit of water as your attention quickly averts to the show the both of you fell asleep to.

with a groan, tom who was once sitting up in confusion and discomfort, leans his whole body back down on the bed. he feels a little bad having to ask such a thing for you considering that the two of you had just done it, thus the much needed nap. but he can’t help it! he’s a growing boy with growing needs (still?)

“baby..” you hummed in response hearing him call you, body leaned toward his but head still directed to the television. whining, tom palms himself through his sweats, unable to wait any longer. however, you’re not getting the message he’s trying to send. “look at me, please?” he asks ever so politely which has you actually turning to face him.

you gasp at the sight of tom, who’s about to pull off his sweatpants, along with his boxers. he gives you a tease of a sight of his hard-on, only a smidge of his shaft peaking through the small opening, almost toying with you as you pout. why didn’t he just say so? “can you help me out? i got a big problem..” you thank the gods he finally asked.

not even needing to say anything, you immediately get on your knees, positioning yourself in between his legs as he now sat on the edge of the bed. freeing his boner, his cock springs out of its constraining, cold air hitting tom’s dick as he lets out a small groan of relief.

you waste no time in going down on him, licking a stripe up the length of his dick as you immediately suckle on the tip. drooling as you get his cock wet, you slobber your mouth all around the hilt, going up to press a quick kiss on the top, giggling. “aren’t cha such a good girl for me, hm?” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ears, admiring how prettily you sat below him.

fully taking him into your mouth, you bob your head up and down his cock. the more you sucked him off the quicker his expression was to falter, running his hands through your hair, he pats your head as a way of showing you how good you’re making him feel “f-fuck.. you do that s’well.. gonna make me come soon..”

now behind his cool and sexy facade, tom becomes adorable when you suck him off. jaw hanging low as he gets all shaky and trembling, balling the bedsheets within both his fists as he resists fucking his dick down your velvety throat. he has to completely resist the urge to have you gag on him, choke on his dick. maybe he’ll save doing that for another day.

his attention is focused on you and you only, watching as how his length so quickly disappears in your mouth as pleasure runs through his body. he can’t help but whisper sweet words as you run your tongue across him, “mmph.. your mouth feels really good.. definitely g-gunna, shit, make you do this for me more often..”

tom now has one of his hands holding your hair out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swipe your tongue across the side of his cock. his moans are whiny, and needy, and filled with total lust and admiration as he just watches you. god, even though it was the thousandth time you’ve done this, you make it feel as though it’s his first time ever getting a blow job, sending him into an ecstasy he luckily gets to experience over and over again.

“s-shit baby, gonna come..” tom gives you notice before you stick your tongue out as he spurts cum right onto the flat of it. ropes of white also painting the plush of your lips, you lick off the remaining and look up at tom, smiling. he places a quick kiss on your cheek that has you giggling, “t’was so hot babe, thank you so much.”

lol ! need 2009 tom to give me lock jaw from how much i suck him off lol !

just a thought , stay safe yall ;)

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: i am so proud of the boys and what they accomplished after everyone counted them out 💙🧡 can’t wait for next year when they’ve had a full training camp with patrick and they come back better than ever 🤍

tw: child goes “missing” for a brief moment, mild innuendo

word count: 2.9k

summary: the msg broadcast gets double the barzal men for a little bit

Offering to take the girls to the arena for a game seems like it’s a great idea until you’ve got Talia, both Martin girls, and Tulsa Horvat begging for pretzels mid-way through the second. Normally you’d have at least one of Syd or Holly with you, but since the outing is for Talia’s birthday, you’d thought it would be fine to just take the girls yourself. That you’d be a good friend, letting Syd and Holly have their Thursday night free, since all of your husbands are retired now and they don’t have to come to the arena if they don’t want to.

But Max is getting antsy and Talia is yapping your ear off - much like her father - begging for snacks.

“Mom, please, I’m starving,” she pokes her lip out at you in a pout and widens her hazel eyes. She looks unfairly like Mat when she makes that expression even though her general looks had shifted to favor yours as she got older. You’ve never really been able to say no to either kid anyway.

“Can you at least watch your brother while I go get snacks?” You ask, lifting your eyebrow and twisting your hair back into a slightly sloppy ponytail. Max swings his legs in his seat next to you, grinning at his big sister. His hat dips over his eyes and you make a mental note to adjust the strap.

Talia looks at you as if you just asked her to swallow a cup of live spiders. “Mom, please no! I don’t even know why we brought him, today was supposed to be for my birthday,” she whines a little, those pre-teen hormones working overtime. Two weeks from turning eleven, and you find yourself missing your baby girl more and more each day. She’s usually a pretty polite and delightful kid, but something about that upcoming eleventh birthday is creating that familiar teenage whine you’d been so good at back in the day. You should really call and apologize to your mother.

Max pipes up without taking his eyes off the action on the ice, “your birthday’s not even today!”

“Thank you, Max,” you hold a hand out in front of his face, covering his mouth, as Talia shoots him a glare. Max wiggles away from your hand, his head bobbing in every direction as he tries to see the players. “I should’ve known this would happen.” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your free hand.

The only reason Talia had picked this game for her birthday is because of Jack Cizikas’s last minute call up from the AHL. Her puppy crush on him is something you and Kristy like to joke about, but right now you’re not laughing. Casey, Kristy, Reese, and Cole are up in a suite with the grandparents for the moment and you should’ve just sent Max up there to join them, but your five-year-old is still a little clingy. He loves the Cizikas family, hero-worships ten-year-old Cole, but when you’d suggested it, his face had crumpled and he’d said, “I wanna stay with you, Mama!”

Who were you to argue with that?

“Okay, I’ll take Max with me, but Win,” you raise your voice and look down a few seats at Winnie Martin, the oldest of your babysitting charges at fifteen, “do not leave these seats until I get back, okay?”

Winnie grins at you, Matt’s smile copy and pasted onto her face. She gives you a little salute and nods, “you got it.”

Talia turns back to the girls, completely ignoring you, and you roll your eyes a little before holding out your hand to Max. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go get some snacks,” you say, savoring the feeling of his little hand in yours. You never know when he’ll start thinking he’s too cool for his mom, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

“Can I get ice cream?” He asks, skipping along next to you. He gives Sparky a high five when you pass the mascot at the top of the stairs.

You laugh a little and point Sparky and his handler in the direction of the girls. “I’m sure Winnie will love to see you,” you say, nostalgia washing over you as you think about the early years of your relationship with Mat and Winnie’s love for the dragon. Sparky nods and gives you an enthusiastic thumbs up, before bounding down the stairs. It’s a different person in the costume now, obviously, but you all had made sure to keep Winnie humbled by making sure each iteration of the Sparky knew to stop and see her at a game. The teen plays along gamely, her mother’s daughter.

Max tugs on your hand, drawing your attention. “Mama! Can I get ice cream?” He repeats his request and you shake your head.

“Nope, sorry, kid. It’s past your sugar cutoff,” you shake his arm when he pouts and kicks his Nike against the floor, nearly tripping himself as he tries to keep walking. “I’ll split a pretzel with you though.”

“I don’t wanna pretzel,” he whines, dragging his feet as he traipses behind you. You dodge a few people, tugging Max along. He keeps whining a little, complaining under his breath, and you pinch at the bridge of your nose before squatting down so you’re at his eye level.

Max goes quiet, but his whole face scrunches up in annoyance and you smile softly. “If you have ice cream now, you’re not going to be able to sleep. And remember that Daddy’s coming on your field trip tomorrow so don’t you want to be well rested for that?” You raise an eyebrow at him while Max considers your explanation.

The line shifts forward while Max is considering and you smile awkwardly up at the family in line behind you, silently apologizing for not moving. The mother waves you off with a polite smile too. Solidarity.

“Can I have ice cream tomorrow then?” Max finally asks and negotiating with the tiny terrorist wasn’t on your to do list today, but you nod anyway, knowing it’ll bite you in the ass tomorrow.

“Yes, after your field trip you can have a little ice cream,” you stand up, knees creaking a bit, and move forward on the line. Matter settled, you hook your fingers in the back collar of Max’s Horvat jersey, worn because ‘Uncle Bo is the coolest!’ much to Mat’s annoyance and your amusement. At the self-serve counter, you grab five pretzels - even if Max doesn’t want to share, you still want a snack - and a Diet Coke, hoping for a quick burst of energy. You let go of Max’s jersey to fish your phone out of your back pocket and tap it against the reader.

“Okay, Max, back to -“ you cut yourself off, looking down at your side and not seeing Max. “Max? Oh, fuck. Where did he go?”

Your heart hammers in your chest, slight panic rising when you scan the concourse and don’t spot your kindergartener. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, the only thing keeping your panic at a reasonable level is the fact that Max was quite literally almost born in the arena and knows it better than anyone. Of course that also means he could be hiding literally anywhere and never be found.

“I…okay, think like Max,” you step off to the side, against the wall, so you can figure out what to do. “Where the hell is he going to go?”

The muffled cheers of the crowd filter through the arena, signifying that the Islanders have added to their lead late in the second. You smile faintly and, like a lightning bolt to the head, realize where Max wandered off to. Or where you hope he wandered off to.

You book it towards the Lab and the MSG broadcast set up, trying to see around the crowds of people that are leaving their seats now that the second period is over. Obviously, you can’t see anything around all the people and the closer you get to the main stairs, the more panic you’re starting to feel, thinking about the girls back at the seats and what you’ll do if Max isn’t with Mat.

Once the cameras and desk come into view, your entire body unclenches, Max is happily perched on Mat’s hip, chattering away with Shannon while Mat and Thomas discuss the second period’s play. The cameras are on and your son is broadcasting live on MSG. You wiggle your way through the little crowd of people around the set and get to the front, by the retractable belt barriers, and try to catch Mat’s eye.

The second he spots you, his entire expression changes, a delighted smile stretching across his face and his eyes crinkling up at the corners. He looks like a twenty-something again, not the nearly forty-year-old he actually is.

“Max!” You hiss, trying not to be heard. “Send him over here!” You wave your free hand at the duo, Diet Coke wedged under your arm and pretzels getting squished in your hand.

Mat shakes his head at you and Thomas and Shannon look over too, all three of them laughing. Mat turns back to the camera, Max smiling like the cat that got the canary. “My wife’s trying to get our broadcast sidekick back,” he says, laughing. Mat bounces Max in his arms. “But I think we’ll keep him around for his color commentary.”

“No, oh my god,” you shake your head and gesture for Max to come back to you. “Mat, stop it.”

“Max,” Mat turns to look at your son, totally ignoring you, “what did you think of the game so far?”

Embracing the fact that Mat’s going to let Max join them for a while at least, you sigh and relax into the moment, watching Max perk up as he gets to discuss his favorite thing.

“I missed Matt’s goal,” he complains, Matt Maggio must’ve been the one to score when you noticed Max was missing. “But I like Jack the best ‘cause he’s funny and plays mini sticks. And also he gave me a piggy-back all day at Easter.”

Shannon laughs and chimes in, “we like Jack around here too. But hey, Max, I can show you Matt’s goal while your dad and Thomas discuss some of the finer points of the game.”

Max wiggles out of Mat’s arms and darts around Thomas’s back so he can stand with Shannon and watch the goal he missed. You snap a picture of Max’s head poking over the desk, heart melting at the sheer excitement on his face. You also notice the dozen texts littering your phone’s screen - a multitude of laughing emojis sent from the girls while they watch at home.

The fans around you are clearly eating up Max’s presence and you feel a little spike of anxiety thinking about how exposed he is to the public now, after keeping his and Talia’s faces mostly hidden on your social media pages. It’s always a little inevitable that the kids are seen with Mat out in public, but you almost wish you could snatch up all the phones recording video and taking pictures of Max as he points something out to Shannon on the iPad.

You take a nervous bite out of your pretzel and try to just enjoy the moment until they go to commercial when you can duck under the belt barrier. Mat grins boyishly at you, grabbing your waist to pull you in for a quick kiss. “Well, this is fun,” he says, pulling back from the kiss. “Family broadcast.”

“He is so stupid sneaky,” you shake your head, offering Mat the pretzel that you’d taken a bite out of. He accepts it and tears off a piece of his own. “And fast.”

Thomas laughs, leaning his forearms on the desk. “That’ll be helpful when he’s zipping around defensemen and scoring goals,” he teases before going to say hi to the fans and take selfies.

“Mom, look!” Max pops up at your side, holding a puck. Where did he get that?

“Pretty cool,” you smile down at him and let Mat lift him back up onto his hip. Max’s long legs kick at Mat’s thighs. “Where’d you get that, bud?”

“From Dad when I got here,” Max chirps. “Can I stay? Cause I don’t wanna be with the girls.”

He cuddles up against Mat’s shoulder, the father-son duo wearing matching hangdog, pleading expressions on their faces. The day Mat taught both kids the look was the worst day of your life, weakening your already minimal willpower. This time you have to say no, interrupting Mat while he’s working is only cute for so long.

“Sorry, Maxy,” you reply sympathetically. “We have to get back to the girls, but we’ll see Dad right after the game.”

Max whines loudly, reminding you that he’s still only five, and you chew on the inside of your lip. Mat pats Max on the back and whispers something in his ear, the extra lighting catching on the few greys that are starting to form in Mat’s dark hair. You wait while Mat talks quietly to your son, trying not to worry about coming back from commercial while you’re all standing in the middle of everything. Eventually, Max huffs an exasperated sigh and wiggles out of Mat’s grip again, slumping his way over to your side.

You smirk a little, “gee, don’t look so thrilled to come hang with your mom.”

Mat laughs and you roll your eyes at him.

“I wanted to stay with Dad,” Max pouts, little fingers gripping tightly onto the puck. “But he said that he’d take me to the locker room if I go with you.”

“Bribery,” Mat winks at you. “A dad’s best weapon.”

The ten second warning that the commercial is ending blinks and you grab Max’s hand, “okay, time to go back to the girls. We’ll see Dad later, okay?”

Max waves at Mat as you guide him away from the set. “Bye, Dad! Don’t forget I wanna see Jack and the locker room,” he shouts and you can hear Mat’s laughter boom over the noise of the crowd.

“I won’t forget Max, be good for Mom,” Mat calls out.

You hurry back to your seats, Max hopping along and waving to people as you go. He gives big, cheerful greetings to the ushers and security guards he recognizes, forcing you to stop when Sparky passes by so he can give the mascot a high-five and a hug around the legs.

“Max, baby, please. We can see Sparky later,” you sigh, a little worried about leaving the girls alone for so long. You know they’ll listen and not leave the seats, but you feel vaguely like a terribly mother/babysitter since they’ve been sitting by themselves for nearly twenty minutes.

Max pouts, but takes a hold of the hand you’re holding out for him and dutifully follows you back to the seats. He clambers over the couple at the end of the row and you apologize quickly for him, making another mental note to work on the kid’s manners.

“Where did you go?” Talia pops up in her seat like a meerkat, wrinkling her face at you in confusion. “We thought you, like, got kidnapped!”

“We didn’t get kidnapped,” you huff, passing around the pretzels. The girls thank you and turn back to the on-ice intermission action. Max reaches for your half eaten one too and you’re glad you at least got a bite in earlier. “Max ran off to see Dad.”

Max grins at his sister, mouth full of chewed pretzel. “Dad gave me a puck and I got to be on TV with him,” he manages to sound smug and excited all at the same time, waving the gifted puck in one hand.

Talia pouts a little, still childish despite how she tries to mimic the older girls.

“Eat your pretzel,” you twirl your finger to get her to look back at the ice. “There are a thousand pucks at home. Oh,” you add, “we’re going to head down to the locker room after the game. Dad promised Max.”

That gets the girls going, chattering about how they get to see Jack and the rest of the players, giggling like crazy while huddled together. You lean back in your seat, smiling softly at how cute they all are. Max is on his feet, dancing along to the arena music, waving both hands in the air - your little party animal. You send Mat a video of him dancing, teasing that father and son have the same moves.

He shoots back a gif of himself dancing at the Martins’ wedding more than fifteen years ago, making you laugh out loud, drawing the attention of all five kids. “Ignore me,” you laugh, waving a hand at them.

Another message from Mat vibrates your phone: leave the kids with marts and syd when you drop the girls off after the game, i wanna show you more of my moves 👀

Giggling like a high schooler with a crush, you take a minute to appreciate that Mat still makes you feel floaty and dizzy with love. Over ten years together and he still makes your heart skip a beat.

“Mom,” Talia’s voice slices through your thoughts, “what’s Dad saying? Because you look so weird.”

Schooling your features into a more neutral expression, you lean forward over the seat and ask, “how do you guys feel about a sleepover at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s?”

[erinfern0]

simon "ghost" riley as a father

dad!simon spent endless hours building the tiny furniture and painting the nursery walls. Of course, all the equipment was picked by you, as he didn't really have a taste for those things. If he were to choose, the room would end up looking like shit.

dad!simon who smiled the whole time as you folded the new clothes and blankets, stealing some of them to feel the fuzzy material, so calming to his growing anxiety.

dad!simon dreamed of this day for so long, but couldn't help the knot in his stomach at the idea of actually being a father. The fear of turning out to be the same as his old man was disgusting, but never left his mind.

dad!simon who discussed every thought and decision with his therapist, making sure he was really prepared. Coming back after every session, he'd sit down with you and discuss everything, being so happy to feel your touch and reassuring words.

dad!simon who thinks it's a true miracle that he lived so long to carry his little kid home. Holding their tiny body in his arms, the love of his life beside him as he stepped into the house.

and now:

girldad!simon who is completely smitten with his little girl, those huge eyes staring at him as if he was some sort of angel.

girldad!simon spends his free time studying how to style her hair, different ponytails and braids, all depending on his princess's wishes

girldad!simon who lets her color in all of his tattoos, watching her trembly hands holding the newest set of body markers.

girldad!simon who teaches her how to defend herself from a very young age, starting with simple lessons on assertiveness and boundaries, through various self-defend practices.

girldad!simon who spoils her rotten, he just can't deny that pouty little face whenever he tells her no. He has his limits, but most of the time she gets all the dresses, toys, and ribbons she gets.

girldad!simon gets a tattoo of her favorite stuffed animal somewhere on his body.

girldad!simon who encourages her passions, especially when it comes to sports because that's one of the few he has any expertise on. He spends a lot of time getting to know others, so he always has topics to talk about.

girldad!simon who feels pity towards any possible love interest that might even think of hurting his little girl.

girldad!simon is often seen walking around the park, holding her hand at all times. All his scary mysteriousness disappears the moment she talks to him, Simon just turns into the sweetest parent in seconds.

girldad!simon always kneels down in front of her so she feels taller.

girldad!simon will watch any show or movie she wants, doesn't matter how 'girly' it is. Secretly enjoys Barbie movies.

girldad!simon watching her grow up and getting into make-up makes him feel very happy, but nostalgic. Reminding himself that not so long ago she was running around and playing with little bugs.

girldad!simon who always drives her around, a personal taxi driver whenever she wants to hang out with her friends.

and:

boydad!simon who focuses on making sure his boy doesn't pick the same field of work as him, no matter how much his boy idolizes him.

boydad!simon who spends most of his time with his son outside, running, playing soccer, or building him some DIY shelters around the house with branches, leaves, and stones. (my ass can't get this out of my head, such a stereotypical polish childhood)

boydad!simon who adores his boy's interest in the military, but like I said, always reminds him to pick something else. This doesn't stop him from spending hours talking about little details and stories.

boydad!simon spoils him by buying him little cars, wooden models, and sports equipment.

boydad!simon makes sure not to push his boy too much into the toxic masculinity he had to grow up with. His son can be as expressive and sensitive as he wants, there's no one to stop him.

boydad!simon who becomes his son's best friend and savior whenever he has nightmares.

boydad!simon tries to be on-trend with electronic devices, spending lots of time to learn how to play his son's favorite video games whenever the little one is asleep, so he can help him if he struggles with a mission/achievement.

boydad!simon who has to make sure his son is a responsible person, giving him adequate punishments so he doesn't think there are no consequences to his actions.

boydad!simon studies dinosaurs just because his son finds them oh so cool. After reading some articles, he finds himself fascinated with them too, sharing all the facts and sources for them.

overall:

dad!simon would do anything to keep his child safe. He'd let the world burn if it meant his little one was the happiest kid on the planet.

dad!simon gets anxious if his kids don't answer him immediately, so he made sure their phones have their locations turned on all the time.

dad!simon doesn't argue with you around the kids, any serious discussion is only between the two of you, so in case emotions take over they never witness it.

dad!simon thinks it's crucial to show up, so he rushes from his deployment to make it to his child's school play or graduation, just to be able to support them.

dad!simon encourages his kids to go and see a psychologist, even if they don't struggle with much. He understands that there are just things important to talk about, but the kid might not want to open up in front of their parents about everything.

dad!simon turned out to be the father his old man could never be. In his kids' eyes, he's a true hero and the best dad they could have.

masterlist | request info

[abibliophobiaa]

the boy is mine (luna’s edition)

i was tagged in @carolmunson’s blurb challenge, and here’s my fluffy little submission. i encourage everyone to join in, and you can find the guidelines here.

summary: an evening in at the trailer park with your boyfriend eddie munson. established relationship, eddie munson x f!reader. little suggestive, but no smut. just fluffy sweetness (1k words)

——

It’s your favorite time of the day. When the sun starts to set across the sky. Pinks, purples, oranges and reds casting light against the new trailer you and Eddie purchased, spilling in through the billowing curtains in the living room. Eddie’s there on the couch, with a cozy cream knitted blanket over his thighs, one of his crew sock covered feet you bought him just last week poking out at the end.

He’s perfectly sun-kissed after a day spent walking in the park together after running errands, your hand in his, both of you simply basking in the springy Saturday sun. Dark hair spills out of a messy ponytail, curly strands tickling his shoulders and cheeks, though it seems he’s too invested in whatever he’s scribbling in his small notebook to care.

Its contents? You’re uncertain, but he’s been working for the past hour as you finished cleaning up an early dinner. Take out pizza, since neither of you were keen on cooking tonight, instead wanting to curl up together with a movie on the couch for a loved up night in. Said movie is calling your name as you drape your dish towel around the refrigerator handle, making sure to pluck two bottles of beer from within.

“Popcorn?” You call out, smiling to yourself when Eddie jumps a little on the couch, head lifting as those umber eyes meet yours.

“Sure, babe,” he says, smiling softly, “I’m almost done.”

“No rush,” you tell him, moving over to a cabinet to pull out a bowl, and a bag of M&Ms. “Candy?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

A laugh bubbles up from your lips as you shake your head, opening the microwave to grab the popped treat. “Today was perfect, huh?”

You smile to yourself as he hums in agreement, pouring the popcorn into the plastic bowl. Both are placed down onto your coffee table as you slip into the living area, your knee taking up residence to the left of one of Eddie’s hips, before the other joins on the other side, straddling the man.

“Whatcha writing?” you ask, trying to peer down at the notebook, just as he slams it shut.

Eddie tosses it behind him on the windowsill, head shaking, eyes a little wide and a little breathless at the suddenness of your arrival on his lap. “That’s private.”

You pout. “Private? From the woman you live with? Love with all your heart, soul, and might?”

“Hey,” he chuckles, thumb pressing beneath your bottom lip, wiggling it playfully, “none of that. You know I love you, but some things are personal.”

“Is that what you called shitting while I was in the shower the other da —”

“That was an emergency,” he clarifies, and you snort. Sobering, he adds, “It’s just — not ready yet.”

Fingers thumb at your thighs, shifting upward the sundress draped over his thighs now. Those dark eyes linger on your face, his free hand coming up to brush along your cheek, dragging your face down to meet his, your foreheads brushing. Every breath from his lungs puffs against your bottom lip, that tantalizing feeling of need you don’t think you’ll ever get used to with him making your insides liquify. Then again, it’s always been this way with him. A sense of peace and quiet in your soul. Of home, with his arms as your walls and his heart as a safe place to land.

“It’s a song…if you must know,” he says slowly against your lips, a dimple popping in his cheek, “about a major pain in my ass.”

“You should get that checked out,” you muse, heart pitter-pattering away at the notion he’s written a song about you, “might be serious.”

“It’s a permanent condition,” he sighs dramatically, though it’s tinged with a joyous laugh, “the only cure is constant exposure.”

“Your doctor needs to get their license revoked,” you tease, breaking off with a sigh in the back of your throat as he leans forward and kisses you deeply. Grapples at your hips and rolls you over him, swallowing the moan that bubbles in your throat at the feeling of him already hardening beneath you. “If you don’t stop, we’re going to have a problem.”

He grins up at you, finger pushing at the strap of your dress until it falls down one shoulder. Eddie leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to the bare skin there.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Distracting me!” You shove at him playfully, wiggling on his lap as deft fingers tickle at your sides, drawing you closer to his frame. A contented exhale spills from you, body leaning into his chest, letting his arms fold you in against a broad chest.

“You really wanna hear it?” he asks at the crown of your head, fingers tangling with yours in your lap.

“Please?”

“It’s rough,” he warns, reaching behind him to grasp the small notebook. “It’s also…not our normal style, so you better not tell the guys.”

You gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth. “Did Eddie Munson write me a love song?”

“Quit it or I won’t play it for you,” he snarks, but there’s no bite there, only love. Always love. So much so, you’re always overflowing with it. “Sit over there — yeah — okay.”

You drop down against the pillows piled high in the corner of your couch, the knitted blanket drawn up and over your thighs. And as the sun continues to set over Hawkins, you watch as the man who holds your heart pulls over his acoustic guitar, flipping the pages of his notebook to where he left off.

Sings in his smoky voice of a girl with sunshine in her hair and the stars in her eyes, of a girl who he calls home, the one his soul longs for, the person he finds rest in. His love.

With your heart in your throat and tears swimming in your eyes, you blurt out a broken, “I love you.”

He tugs you close, his heartbeat under your ear as he whispers back, “I love you most.”

——

[stvharrngton]

kinktober: day six

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, deep throating, oral (m receiving), sort of can be read as a part 2 to day five

word count: 0.7k

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @mooonyweasley

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“Baby,” Steve cooed.

The boy crawling back up to you, his mouth wet with your slick, his nose skirted along your jaw, his lips pressing featherlight kisses along the skin there. Your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath, your body still shaking from your orgasm.

“Y’did so good,” he hummed, his hands planted on your waist, rubbing up and down over the skin. He squeezed at you now, a kiss to your cheek and one to your nose.

You knew what the deal was, you’d be good and let Steve finish the job and you’d get to repay the favour. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you moved yourself so Steve was sitting on his heels, his cheeks flushed pink and his hair running riot.

Tugging at his boxers, you pulled the material down his legs, setting his cock free from its confines. Steve’s cock was hard and aching, the tip angry and red, leaking precum, the veins in the shaft prominent.

Before you let yourself get comfy, he gripped your chin between his finger and thumb, bringing your gaze back to him. He leant into you, lips an inch away from your own and he whispered,

“You gonna suck my cock real good, yeah pretty girl?”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you nodded, big eyes blinking up at him as he spoke once more,

“Gonna get it nice and wet f’me? Wanna see you take all of it in, until my cock is hitting the very back of your throat and you’re gagging,” Steve smirked as he spoke, his lips practically on yours, “can you do that for me, honey?”

You nodded enthusiastically, scrambling to get into position between Steve’s legs. Flattening your tongue as you licked a stripe up the shaft of Steve’s cock, an obnoxious moan spilling from his lips.

Tongue swirling round the tip, sucking and licking as you took him in, inch by inch. His cock was heavy on your tongue, and thick in your mouth. Steve wrapped his fingers in your hair, holding it away from your face, making a makeshift ponytail.

He watched through hooded eyes as you took him in, his jaw hanging agape as he groaned, toes curling and stomach tensing. Your mouth felt good, too good.

“Fuck,” he moaned, the exhale strung out and raspy. His free hand gripped the sheets as he gnawed on his bottom lip, the temptation to buck his hips and fuck your mouth way too strong for Steve to handle, “sucking my cock so fucking good.”

You hummed around his length, your free hand coming to cup his balls, rolling them in your hand as you picked up the pace, the tip seconds away from hitting the back of your throat. You liked to tease though, just as much as Steve did, almost getting there but never really hitting the spot.

It drove him crazy, insane rather, making a mental note to get you back for it later. You soon gave in though, knowing the sounds and filthy words it would pull from your boyfriend, you simply couldn’t resist.

You inched in further, the tip of Steve’s cock finally hitting the back of your throat, once, twice, until you were gagging. Releasing his length with a pop as you took a second to catch your breath before you went back for more.

“Oh, Jesus,” Steve groaned, head thrown back in pleasure, his thick neck on display for you to ogle, “fuckfuckfuck, just like that.”

His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, hair wild from where he’d been tugging at the strands, his thick torso littered with indents of your nails that you’d left in your wake. You kept going, no matter how much your throat burned, to get Steve to the edge was your main goal.

He held your head with both hands now, guiding your mouth up and down his cock. His grunts were getting deeper, his breaths getting shorter. Thighs and stomach tensing as he moaned out,

“Fucking Christ,” his jaw slack as he planted, “‘m gonna fuckin’ cum so hard, baby, shit—“

You took that as your queue to speed up, to roll his balls in your palm. You went down again, the tip hitting the back of your throat once more and Steve was done for.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, eyes squeezed shut as he hit his orgasm like a brick wall. Ropes of hot cum shooting down your throat as you gladly swallowed, Steve moaning and whimpering oh fucks and pleasepleaseplease above you.

The boy above you was fucked out and gorgeous and you were goddamn lucky that you were the only one who got to see him like this.

[joonipertree]

Tags: college au, awkward mikey, flustered mikey, mikey has a crush on you. skateboarder!mikey.

[I wrote this Feb 2022. THIS WAS BEFORE I WATCHED THE SHOW OR READ THE MANGA. I JUST SAW A PIC AND THOUGHT HE WAS CUTE???]

You weren’t sure what you were watching but you were pretty sure it was akin to a circus.

“Mikey, you have to.” A pretty girl said with a bored expression on her face.

“No.”

Mikey, your classmate, was simply circling around her with an equally bored expression. He was the definition of carefree, skateboard under his feet and hands in his pocket with his long blonde hair in a ponytail.

“You were fine five minutes ago.”

“That was before I had two mental breakdowns about it.”

“In the span of five minutes?”

“You don’t know my life.”

“I’m your sister.”

“No.”

“Mikey, just fucking go up to them and kiss already, it’s exhausting watching you pine.” Ryuguji, another classmate of yours, spoke from the bench he was sitting on.

“Shut your fucking mouth before I punch you, Kenchin.” Mikey deadpanned, skating a little wobbly for a second before righting himself.

“That’s not the point of this, you need a partner for the assignment.” The blonde girl spoke sternly.

“I’d rather fail than ask them.”

“I’ll tell big brother on you.”

“Oh no, I’m so scared. What horrible things will he do?” Mikey had a very sarcastic tone in his voice as he shivered exaggeratedly.

“Ass.”

“Emma, I’m still not convinced. There’s nothing that can possibly happen that will make me go and talk to them.”

“Oh hey _____, didn’t see you there.” Ryuguji all but shouted out.

Mikey promptly fell off his skateboard and stumbled two feet forward before stabilizing himself.

“Hey, sorry for just standing there, I needed to use the vending machine.” you said with a giggle.

Mikey all but skipped to the side which made you giggle as you walked towards it.

It was silent for a while and when you turned around, you saw the three of them having some kind of conversation with their eyes. It mostly consisted of Mikey shaking his head vehemently.

Emma looked at you a second later and smiled a saccharine sweet smile at you before saying, “I love that shirt on you, it’s very cute.”

You thanked her and looked to your right to see Ryuguji keeping Mikey in a headlock as the other tried to escape his clutches.

“So, I heard about that project that’s coming up. Do you have a partner yet?”

“Sadly, no.” You sighed. Your friends had paired off already and you were the only one left.

“Mikey doesn’t have a partner either.” Emma said just as Mikey broke himself free.

“Oh, if you want to be my partner then you can.” You said as nonchalantly as possible. To be honest, Mikey was very cute and you always wanted to talk to him but never had the courage.

“i’m-well-no-I mean-I-” Mikey stuttered the worst you’ve ever heard anyone stutter.

“This means yes in Mikey.” Emma informed and for your own sanity, you believed her.

With a drink in your hand, you walked towards him and handed him your phone.

“Add your number in, I’ll text you.”

The boy just stood there in silence, eyes almost out of his sockets as he held the pastel blue covered phone in his hand. You noticed how big his hands were and it made you blush a bit. You wondered what it would feel like to hold them.

“Oh my god, you fucking coward.” Emma muttered but before she could take your phone from his hand, he cradled it against his chest while glaring at her. He then very carefully typed in his digits.

You tried opening your bottle of juice but were very clearly failing to, grunting softly at the effort you were putting in.

He took the bottle from you and gave your phone back before very easily unscrewing the cap.

Why the fuck was that attractive?

He handed it back and you squeaked out a thanks before saying a quick goodbye.

You were too far to hear or see him but the boy melted against his best friend and whined over how cute you were.

“Did you see how cool I was opening that bottle for them? I was so fuckling calm, what the fuck.”

[moonstruckme]

i’ve been craving summer a whole lot lately so i’d love to see what a summer day with tasm!peter would look like if you’re up for it!!

Thanks for requesting my love!

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 705 words

You come home expecting relief, sweaty and smelly and exhausted, but there is none. The apartment you share with Peter is as stifling as it was outside. 

You go straight to the fridge. Maybe there’s some water you can pour over yourself or frozen peas you can shove under your boobs or something. As soon as you pad into the kitchen, Peter’s head pokes through the window to the fire escape. 

“Hey,” he says, sounding about as peppy as you feel. “The A/C’s broken.” 

“I can tell,” you sigh. “Have you texted the landlord?” 

“Texted, called, faxed—he’s definitely ignoring me. I went to his unit, and I’m not sure if he’s out or just hiding, but if he doesn’t respond by tonight I’m going in through his window.” Peter lets his head loll against the window frame, face flushed as he looks up at you. He makes a very pretty puddle. “Kiss?” 

You smile ruefully. “It’s too hot for kissing.” 

He huffs a laugh. “Fair enough. There’s popsicles in the freezer, wanna grab a couple and join me out here?” 

You open the freezer, and your heart inflates like one of those lifejackets they keep on airplanes. Peter—brilliant, considerate, genius Peter—has invested in a giant bag of tube popsicles. You grab a red one for him and a green one for yourself and climb out onto the fire escape. 

“You’re so smart for these,” you say. He grins as you pass him one, taking scissors from the windowsill to cut the top off of yours before doing his own. Your calf rubs slickly against his as you slot your legs in between his own. You don’t mind as much as you should. “Why’re you out here?” 

“The alley gets a breeze,” he explains, closing his eyes and tilting his head back slightly, the encapsulation of a golden retriever in boy form. A whisper of wind catches in his fluffy hair, just barely ruffling it, but Peter grins like it’s the most satisfying thing in the world. “Feel?” 

“Gimme a sec.” You take the plastic covering of your popsicle between your teeth, freeing your hands to pull the hair off your neck and securing it with a ponytail. The sweat-slicked skin of your nape feels blissfully cool in the air, and your eyes slip closed too as you pull the popsicle from your lips. “Oh, yeah,” you sigh, “I feel it.” 

Peter’s silent, and when you open your eyes he’s giving you a look. Eyebrows raised just slightly, one corner of his mouth tilted up. 

“If you still think it’s too hot to kiss,” he says, “you’re going to have to stop being so hot.” 

You scoff. “Peter,” you say, like come on. “I was just putting my hair up.” 

“And you know what that does to me.” He takes a bite of his popsicle, crunching pointedly. 

“It’s hot,” you complain. 

“It really is,” he replies, with a grin that has you rolling your eyes. 

“I mean that I’m—that my neck is hot.” 

“Again, so true.” 

“Stop it.” You narrow your eyes seriously, pressing your lips together hard to keep them from quirking. “There’s nothing sexy about how miserable it is out here.” 

Peter hums noncommittally, raising one shoulder in a half-shrug before he leans forward to hook his hands under your sweaty knees. You laugh as he hauls you toward him, his knees caging your ribs. He purses his lips, and you succumb yourself to your fate, and then cool air kisses your skin. 

You open your eyes. “What are you doing?” 

“I think it’s pretty obvious,” he says, continuing to blow on your face. “Is it helping?” 

You take a second, letting yourself get used to the feeling of his air soothing over your damp brow. “Actually, yeah.” 

Your boyfriend grins, still puffing out air as best he can through his smile. It brings his sun-kissed cheeks up towards his eyes and makes his lashes kiss. 

You let yourself kiss him right there beside his eye, a token of your appreciation, but that’s not good enough for Peter. He taps your cheek, nudging you towards his lips until you oblige him. 

“You’re my hero,” you tell him lightly. 

“Yeah, yeah, get in line.” 

[malum-forev]

Non Exclusive

Bucky warmed the single beer he’d been nursing for hours by holding it with both hands. He blew air into the top of the bottle, making the glass whistle as he shifted on both legs. He glanced your way twice, not wanting to make it obvious he was staring. 

Sam pulled up next to the brunet, switching up his flat beer for a newer, colder one. 

“How much longer are you going to be lurking in the shadows?” Sam asked. “People have already started asking me who the peeping tom is.”

“I’m not staring.” Was all Bucky said. 

“Staring, wanting to burst Garrett’s head with your mind, tomato, tomato.” Sam sipped his beer, leaning back on the wall to join his friend. “You look pretty jealous Buck. I thought you said you and (Y/N) had agreed on just sex.” 

“It is just sex.” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

Bucky let his blue eyes roam your body, he had made it his personal mission to memorize the curves on your body. It was like he had X-Ray vision and he could accurately pinpoint where each and every one of your moles and scars were.  

Sam hummed. “If you two aren’t exclusive, then tell me who you’ve fucked other than her lately.”

Bucky realized it would have been too embarrassing for him to say he’d turned down more than a couple of offers. To be honest, once he got used to this new world, Bucky was- what’s the correct word?- he was liberated. 

When Dr. Raynor told him he was free and he’d asked her “Free to do what?” 

He didn’t think fucking every single woman within a five-mile radius would be her answer- but that’s what he did. And it was amazing. He wasn’t used to women being so open about how he made them feel, Bucky had even asked for pointers to make the experience more pleasurable for them. There wasn’t a clause in his contract that forbid him from fraternizing with other agents and boy did he make some of his higher ups wish they did. 

The Winter Soldier had gotten quite the reputation for being an expert in the one and done category. Making women all around the compound want him even more, wishing they would be the ones to return the soldier back to his 40’s ways. None of them had been successful. 

But something changed when he met you. You’d been on the team for some time now but you had never expressed any interest in him. Until that night. For Bucky, his life would be separated into two categories: Before You and After You. 

It was a late night and you came into his office with your tactical suit zipped down to your waist with a tight cropped shirt underneath that begged to be taken off, your hair that was usually up in a ponytail had been let free a long time ago.

Bucky gulped as you leaned over the table to reach for something, your breasts taunting him.

Before he knew it, your lips were on his. You were running your hands through his short hair, trying to grip anything. Your ragged breaths only pushed your breasts closer to him, making him go feral. 

“I’m not looking for anything serious.” He panted.

Your devious smile only made him harder. “Neither am I.” 

Ever since that day, he’d been entranced. Of course he enjoyed sex with other women but with you, Bucky felt a deep connection. Like you were made for him, you introduced Bucky to a pleasure high he didn’t think was even possible or existed for that matter. 

It started when he called you after a mission, wanting to get rid of pent-up aggression. Bucky was extra happy when you’d told him you were more than happy to let him use your body, that day he’d introduced you to the stars. Fucking you into oblivion. 

Then, it was once a week at least. 

“Training has been-“ Bucky said between thrusts but you shushed him. 

You craned your neck from your position on all fours, locking with his darkened and lustful eyes. “Concentrate on me, on us.”

Bucky thought it was a miracle he didn’t come then and there, just from your words. 

You laid in bed with him after the two of you had finished. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back on his almost flat pillows before focusing all your energy- whatever he hadn’t drained- into lifting your body. 

“A-are you leaving already?” Bucky’s voice was just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t think you wanted me to stay longer.” You chuckled. 

Bucky’s eyes furrowed. “What makes you think that?”

“I thought you used those as a quick fuck quick exit tactic.” You pointed at the uncomfortable pillows. “You know, to make your guest understand they shouldn’t overstay their welcome.”

When you came over a week later, a couple of things had changed in his room. On the nightstand opposite his were a couple of boxes of tampons, one candle, a toothbrush and an oversized vintage t-shirt of his. You fought back a smile as you saw a brand-new fluffy pillow rest next to his flat one on the bed with the tags still attached. 

“Did you take some pointers from romantic comedies?” You bit your bottom lip. 

Bucky smiled, kneeling between your legs perched at the edge of the bed. “Concentrate on me.” 

You threw your head back with a moan as he lowered his head in between your thighs. 

“I’ll take your lack of an answer as a no.” Sam laughed. “The fuckboy became the simp.”

“What of course I’ve been seeing other people.” Bucky scoffed. “Yes, I’ve been doing a lot of that. Recently. Constantly.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I assume you won’t care if I told you Thor is coming to the compound next week.”

The sound of his name made the blood coursing through Bucky’s veins become hot. He clamped down on his molars. 

“I thought he wasn’t returning, at least not soon.” Bucky tried to sound relaxed, like he totally didn’t care that the man you have the biggest crush on would be training with the team. 

Sam shrugged. “Something about having intel.”

“What kind of intel could he have that we couldn’t easily get.” Bucky rolled his eyes and sipped the beer. 

“You’re seriously considering you have more information than the literal God of Thunder?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “It’s not like I care anyways.”

“You don’t?” Sam pushed.

“I. don’t. care.” Bucky enunciated each word, following your hands as you placed them on Garrett’s chest. 

“When’s the whole Mr. Casual act going to stop?” Sam asked. 

“You know me-“ Bucky let out a strained smile. “Monogamy bores me. Being with only one woman, for the rest of my life, the whole get married and spend eternity wishing I would die at the same time as her so I don’t need to spend another minute of my time on Earth without her- yeah that doesn’t sound like me.” 

Sam judged his friend silently. 

“She can go home with Garrett and I wouldn’t care-“ Bucky laughed into his beer. “Plus he’s like a full four inches shorter than me so- yeah I don’t care.”

Just as Sam was about to say something, his friends eyes lit up and for the first time in hours he saw Bucky look not miserable- dare he even say happy?

You strutted towards the soldier, your happy glow transferring onto him. 

“How about you take me back to your place, Sarge?” You whispered into his ear. 

Bucky’s face lit up and he took your hand, quickly waving back at Sam. “If you have an emergency, don't call!”

I'm the worst at writing even mild spice so pls don't kill me if this is cringeeee. I triedddd and I'm a sucker for slutty Buck.

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour@hallecarey1

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny, on the run from the GIW decides to take shelter in Gotham because if the GIW have any sense they'd never set foot in there.

Even if Batman and the JL agree with thier opinion on ecto entities (as evidenced by their lack of speaking out against the anti-ecto acts) Batman was notoriously territorial and would have issue with a wildly incompetent government organization throwing missiles around his city all willy-nilly.

With that being said it was probably best for Danny to wear a disguise. Sure, they didn't know Fenton and Phantom were the same person yet but Danny Fenton suddenly turning up in Gotham after going missing in Amity is certainly going to raise some eyebrows regardless of the necklace he had that jammed his ecto-signature and made him untrackable.

Danny started off by going blond. Its something he's always wanted to do and now with ghostly shape-shifting powers he doesn't even have to worry about frying his hair or dying his eyebrows to match. After that all he needed to do was part his hair down the middle, add a lip ring or two and maybe a bit of make up.

Danny stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like a completely different person.

A completely different and very attractive person. He looked good. The newly blond man threw on a green jacket and went out to explore the town. He did not expect to literally bump into the Tim Drake. The Wayne adoptee just stood there mouth opening and closing comically. Did he offend him? Crap. He had promised Jazz he would stay off of the radar of the Waynes and the bats specifically and here he was angering one of them.

Danny decided to book it before it became a scene, ignoring the lovestruck Tim's crys for him to wait.

Back at his apartment Danny quickly changed his look to red hair tied back into a two inch low ponytail, green eyes and freckles that unbeknownst to anyone else was made up from the lesser known constellations.

The coffee at this Cafe smelled amazing! Too bad Danny wouldn't get to try it because the next this he knew freaking Red Hood was behind him asking to talk. Our favorite ghost boy wouldn't be embarrassed to admit he let out a small squeek before bolting out the door yelling, "I'm not even a criminal!"

It took Jason a few seconds to process that the guy he had tried to flirt with ran away in terror. Crap.

Day three and four were blissfully Wayne and bat free, though he did find out that Tim Drake and Red Hood were looking for his two false identities. Joy.

Day five he met the stabby Robin who very valiantly beat up two people who had been following him. Danny didn't even notice he was being followed and thanked the bird for saving him. Danny, who was shape-shifted into a very pretty girl at the moment, offered to buy him something to eat as a thank you. "Danielle" insisted and Robin allowed it. Danielle never noticed the slight pink on Damians cheeks as they went over to one of Damians favorite restaurants.

Day seven he had went out as blondie and got confronted by some girl named Barbara. She was nice and managed to convince him to come to a Cafe with her. He told her his name was David and he ran away from his parents with the help of one of his friends family members and that he was Jewish, which was true...except for the David part. He learned that if you wanna keep your story straight keeping to almost truths was your best bet. She in turn told him about Tim and how he's a friend of hers-uh oh- and that he's been looking all over for him.

Danny-David- tells her he's sorry but he didn't mean to offend Tim and doesn't want any trouble before laying down enough money to cover his half of the bill and the tip and booking it out of there

This repeats with most of the family trying to flirt with him or adopt him into the family when he's out as Danny.

Bruce Wayne approached Danny when he was waiting to board an elevator, "Hel-" was all the billionaire could get out before Danny cut him off "Hell no." And then he just got in the elevator and pressed the close doors button and was gone again.

[astxroiid]

empire state of mind // tasm!peter parker

❥ warm New York, cold nights, sushi, pining, heroes and their hopeless romanticism.

wc: 1.5k

navigation ✩ new york private life (I) ✩ manhattan longing (III)

The movie finishes with little to no emotional distractions from either of you. You look to Peter, "This was fun! We need to do it again sometime."

You smile but all Peter feels is dread. Are you sending him home? Already? He's had a great time but he doesn’t wanna go home so soon.

“Yeah… I had a lot of fun too,” he gives a downturned smile.

"How about you come back on Friday? I'm free all day after my class at 10."

Your voice drowns out and Peter feels a tingle up his back. The hairs on his arms stand on end. Something bad is happening...

He turns his head, realizing that whatever his Spidey-Sense is telling him is happening, is major. He tries to hide his worry as he stands, grabbing his bag from beside the door.

"H-hey! Where are you going?" the worry filling up your throat and spilling into your tone.

"Friday. After 10. Sounds amazing. I'll be there. Gotta go-" he doesn't stay to hear your response. Slamming the door behind him. You're left on the couch, in shock and feeling a little sad.

A few moments later, you see Spider Man swing by your window and off into town, towards the flashing red and blue lights.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

That was Tuesday, it's now Thursday night.

Sorry for dashing off last night, I forgot I had to pick some things up for my aunt!

Peter's message from Wednesday sits unopened on your phone. You have no idea how to respond.

♡.

Peter's all kinds of a mess right now. Terrified he messed things up by leaving so quickly the other night. Nervous that your date is canceled. He hasn't heard back from you since that night.

What if you're mad? Or now uninterested because of the way he ran out? What can I do to fix this? Peter's internal thoughts have been going haywire since Tuesday.

♡.

You phone buzzes as you begin to study for one of your exams. You decide to ignore it

Then it buzzes, and again.

You grab the device in anger with full intentions of putting it on do not disturb. Until you see the messages are from Peter.

Be ready tomorrow at 2.

I'm taking you somewhere nice to make up for my actions.

Is that sushi place still an option?

You smile and respond: Only if you show up on time :)

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Peter does show up on time, early actually. He takes you downtown, walking through little shops, trying to get the confidence to hold your hand.

Right now would be the perfect time.

The both of you walking along the sidewalk. Shoulder to shoulder.

Do it, Peter. You both think. And then, your thoughts separate.

I'm basically begging for it with the way I'm pushing my shoulder into his. From you.

What if she doesn't want that? And I ruin the whole moment? From Peter.

Fuck it. Peter steadies his breathing and goes to wrap his pinky around your index.

Just as his finger starts to brush against yours, you move your hand, running digits through your hair.

Peter curls and uncurls his fingers by his side.

"Ugh, this heatwave is fucking ridiculous," you hum, holding your hair into a temporary ponytail. Smiling at the boy.

To Peter Parker, you are the most stunning woman he's ever seen. And this moment encompasses that completely. Flyaway hairs framing your face, chest glowing from sweat, cheeks flushed from the heat, and smile beaming.

If only he could grow a pair and hold your hand.

"Yeah, tell me about it. The air conditioning in my apartment's broken. It's just me, a lonely fan, and a lot of open windows," he smiles at you, nervous of talking too much.

You can't help but feel your chest flutter every time he gives you that bashful smile. Something in the way his cheeks change color and his eyes dart around awkwardly keeping your heart pounding.

"Well. Anytime you feel yourself getting too hot, you can always come over," you wink and waltz into a nearby store, holding the door for him.

Peter feels his hands begin to shake, the temperature in his body rising and he suspects it's not from the weather. He follows you in.

You bounce around the shop happily, picking up the mini glass figures and examining each one, showing them all to Peter.

He gazes at you with a content smile on his face. He could get used to this.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

The hours come and go, but as five-o'clock draws near you and Peter begin to make your way towards the aforementioned sushi restaurant.

You step in and are in immediate awe. Neon red led's light up the dim rooms. Candles flicker on each table, illuminating the accompanying roses. The clack of your shoes reverberates off the black marble floor and falls in time with the soft jazz flowing through the building.

"Oh wow..." you breathe.

Peter walks behind you with a smug grin on his face. He aimed to impress you with this place. It seems he hit the bullseye.

"How many?" A very well dressed, middle aged woman asks, smiling.

"Just two." Peter answers.

"Follow me." The lady turns the corner after grabbing two menus.

After being sat and ordering drinks, Peter goes to look at his menu. You kick him (lightly) from under the table.

He jumps. "Ah! What was that for?!"

"You didn't tell me how nice this place was gonna be!" You whisper rather sharply.

"Well, I wanted to impress you. And make up for everything," Peter smiles.

"You can do all that without letting me dress like a slob to go to a place like this!"

"I think you look beautiful." Peter blurts. Eyes wide, face red.

"Oh." Your voice is just above a whisper. "Well.. uh, thank you," you smile at him and his whole world lights up.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

You exit the front doors of the restaurant, cold night air stinging your lungs.

"That was amazing, Peter. thank you so much," you stuff your hands into your pockets.

"Of course! I had to make everything up to you," he smiles down at you. Again, having the same battle of brain and heart over holding your hand, both of which being pushed further into your pockets.

"We definitely have to do this again," you begin to cross the street, assuming Peter follows behind you.

"Hey! y/n! Wait!" Peter's scared tone stops you in your tracks in the street as you turn to look at him.

"wha--" you hear a horn and can barely distinguish headlights from beside you before a pair of warm, rather strong, arms are embracing you - holding you an equally as strong body.

Your chest goes numb with adrenaline, face heating up from the proximity of Peter's face to yours.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" His breath is heavy, warm chest pushing into yours and heart pounding.

"Uh... yeah... are you?"

"I'm fine. I think my ankle is bruised from the fall but it's alright, as long as you're okay."

Your chest continues fluttering but no longer from fear. The way Peter just smiled at you could light the whole world up.

"Here," you stand up, offering the boy a hand. "Let's go back to my place and assess the damage."

Peter takes your hand, following you back home.

You turn to him. "Thank you, by the way. You totally just saved my life."

⏪︎ peter's pov ⏪︎

Peter smiled, holding the door open as you exit the restaurant. He'd had such a great day with you so far, though he worried at every point he would make a wrong move and mess everything up.

He didn't.

"That was amazing, Peter. thank you so much."

This is it. Peter thinks. My best possible chance to grab her hand.

You stuff your hands into your pockets.

Shit.

"Of course! I had to make everything up to you," Peter smiles down at you.

"We definitely have to do this again."

Peter watches you step down from the sidewalk and onto the asphalt. His head snaps to the left, seeing headlights. A car. Moving fast. Right for you.

His whole body goes numb, heart pounding.

"Hey! y/n! Wait!"

You turn, freezing.

Peter feels a build of anxiety from his toes to his head. You're not moving.

The hairs on his arms stand up, and he's moving before his thoughts can catch up. And everything feels like it's in slow motion.

He lunges, wrapping his arms around you, pulling both of you back towards the sidewalk. Peter's ankle twists and he lands, back thudding against the pavement, holding you snug against him.

His breath is harsh.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" Peter can feel your hearts pounding in the same, fear-driven tempo.

"Uh... yeah... are you?" Your eyes search his.

"I'm fine. I think my ankle is bruised from the fall but it's alright, as long as you're okay." And he means it.

"Here," you stand up, offering the him a hand. "Let's go back to my place and assess the damage."

Peter gladly takes your hand, also taking note of the smoothness, and the gentle way you lead him. He feels warmth slowly spread down his back, realizing his ankle might not be the only injury he sustained.

"Thank you, by the way. You totally just saved my life."

likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.