#but god i just feel like i need someone to back me up here or like

[sinstear]

happy valentines 🍫💐💌

vi notices the way you’ve been distant for the last couple of days with her, barely talking to her, glancing in her direction when she practically wraps herself around your body when you’re in the kitchen making breakfast, or doesn’t even let her on your phone. you never had a problem with that before, but that’s suddenly changed. she doesn’t even get a smile from you. at first she assumed you had enough, maybe you didn’t love her anymore, found someone new, someone else to be obsessed and utterly in love with. then she tried to recall the last week, had something happened and you were just figuring it out? did she say something that made you upset? if so, why weren’t you talking to her.

she doesn’t have much time to figure out why, not when there’s an abrupt groan and scuffle at the front door then a loud bang that has her sitting up on the couch, blinking repeatedly until she can hear you cursing under your breath. “stupid fuckin’ thing,” or something like that. if she didn’t feel so upset over something that had she no idea about, then she would have laughed, ran to help you, but she didn’t, she just sat there in; clad in one of your hoodies and slumped deeper into the couch. 

pathetically, like a lost puppy, she perks up at the sound of your voice again. “vi, baby, are you awake?” 

“yes,” she mumbled back, more like scoffed but you weren’t paying attention. “m’in here.”

“okay, uh, can you close your eyes for a second, please?”

doing as you asked, vi closes her eyes, takes her hands out of her lap and nervously fumbles with her fingers. the sound of you cursing and grumbling got louder yet closer the longer she sits here and waits for you to do whatever it was that you were doing, and it’s only when you stumbled, almost tripping over your own feet, into the living room, you find her slumped there, chewing at her bottom lip and sniffling. “don’t open them, just give me like 2 minutes, don’t peek, i know what you’re like.” you warned playfully.

she has no idea what you’re doing, but her only thought in her mind right now was that you’re breaking up with her, this is it. you’re going through all of this just to tell her you’re not in love with her anymore, that you’ve found someone else, that she doesn’t make you happy and maybe she could handle that, but not when she loves you so much—

“you can open them now.” you murmured exactly 2 minutes later.

when her eyes flutter open, violet finds you standing in the doorway, looking somewhat nervous, the living room covered with dark and light pink balloons, rose petals scattered over the floor, a huge bouquet of red roses sit on the coffee table, accompanied by a big box of chocolates, ones you know she loves, one of those giant teddy bears, looking at her like it was trying to read all her secrets, and a gift bag on her lap. light pink with a card taped to the side. “happy valentines day!” 

“y…you’re not breaking up with me?” is what comes out her mouth first, blinking. taking in the sight before her. had she gotten all her worries wrong?

the question catches you off guard and you blinked too, then frowned and shook your head quickly. “no! my god, why would i break up with you?” you rushed over to her and sat beside her before taking her hands into yours. “hey, no, don’t cry, why would i break up with you?”

“you’ve been distant, so i thought—”

“it’s very hard to keep surprises from you, you know?” you laughed softly and wiped away the tears that ran down her cheek. “but no, m’not breaking up with you, you’re my world, and i love you, so much.”

“i’ve never had valentines before” vi admits sadly. 

“i know, i wanted your first to be special,” you admitted softly and smiled. “if it’s too much, we don’t have to open them yet, we can just leave them until—”

“no! i just, i haven’t gotten you anything yet so,” vi suddenly becomes quiet and fumbles with the gift tag nervously. “m’sorry—”

“i have you, don’t i? that’s all i ever need. if i have you, i don’t need anything else,” you admitted and kissed her temple. “it’s your first valentines, it’s not about me, it’s about you, and i want you to know how much i love you, and how much you mean to me. even if there is a creepy teddy bear looking at me.”

vi giggles and wipes away her tears, a blush creeping up on her face. “how did you even get that in here?”

“i carried that thing up 7 flights of stairs, it was a struggle, i admit.”

looking up at you, vi smiles shyly and is quick to bury her face in the crook of your neck. “thank you,” she sniffled and gripped your arm tightly. “i love you so much.”

“i love you more, baby,” you smiled and kissed the top of her head. “how about we make breakfast, take a walk, and when we’ll sit down and you can open your gifts? when you’re not as overwhelmed?”

“i’d like that, but that teddy needs to be turned around, as much as i love it, it’s creeping me out”

“agreed. remind me to not bring it into the bedroom tonight.”

[witherby]

Wait I kinda wanna see mousy’s blow up 🤭

You can absolutely see the blow up 😏

The Littlest Wayne: Boiling Point

The post that inspired this response is Here!

Masterlist is Here!

You can't remember what started the argument. An errant comment, some joke in poor taste, an accusatory question — it could have been anything. All you know is that you said something you felt was important, Damian ignored it, Tim dismissed it, and Dick acted like you hadn't said it to begin with, and now you're livid and don't want to finish your dinner.

"May I be excused," you say to Alfred, already pushing your chair back from the table before he can respond. Your grandfather gives you a concerned look, but nods.

"Shall I bring something up to you later, young master?" He asks. You don't know if you'll have any appetite by then, but you agree anyway to spare his feelings.

"Where are you going?" Bruce asks, frowning as you stand to leave. "I haven't seen you in a week, honey. Even if you're not hungry, can you sit a while?"

"Whose fault is that," you snap. The room gets real quiet after that, a mixture of surprise and incredulity painting your father's face.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not making you go anywhere, dad," you scowl, "if you missed me then you'd find the time to see me."

"Hold on. I don't think that's very fair," Hal speaks up, reaching for your hand. You pull it away from him. "Mouse —"

"It's fine," you say, "the needs of the many outweigh the needs of one. I'm well aware. It's fine. We'll spend time together some other day. Go stop a robbery or rescue some damsels or something."

"What's with the 'tude, Flitty?" Dick pipes up, standing to block the door. "Pump the brakes for a sec. Talk to us."

"Talk to you? What, so when you inevitably forget this conversation happened you can pretend we never had it to begin with?" You sneer at your brother, looking him up and down. "No thanks. I'm not interested in being gaslit today."

"Gaslit?" Dick balks, looking like you struck him. "I've never —"

"Let them go, Dick," Tim says, twirling a bite of pasta around his fork. "It's just hormones. They'll go back to normal by tomorrow."

"Oh, of course it's just hormones," you scoff, whirling around to point a finger at Tim. "If it's got a logical explanation it's not worth dwelling on. Isn't that right? I can't be upset because I'm just going through puberty! There's no way it's acceptable for me to be upset over anything! My feelings don't matter, so they should be swept under the rug, just like your parents did to you!"

Tim drops his fork in surprise. A bit of pasta sauce hits Damian's check, and he grabs his napkin with an irritated grumble.

"This is such nonsense," the boy mutters.

"Everything that doesn't interest you personally is nonsense," you hiss at your youngest brother. "God forbid someone try to share their love for a hobby that's outside of what you find enjoyable. If the Blood Son doesn't give it his seal of approval, it's not worth the effort! Honestly, I should feel grateful you've blessed us with your presence at all! Surely your inferior siblings are barely worth your invaluable time!"

Your heart's racing. All the little, irritating things about your family that's been piling up inside you are spilling out. Your anger turns the internal hurt into external jabs and low blows, the darkest part of you wanting them to feel just a fraction of your pain at how flippantly they treat you sometimes.

"Sorry, did that upset you, Dami? Aww, it's okay! Like Tim says, it's just an emotional response brought on by some underlying factor! It won't last so it's not worth devoting your time to! And if you're like Dicky, you can just wave it away and say it never happened, no matter what you show him to prove it did! Maybe if you hadn't had the time to make it to dinner and spent weeks or months rushing off to do something more important at the start, you wouldn't have to sit through this conversation at all! Hope that helps!"

A hand comes down on your shoulder, silencing your rant. You whip around to find Jason staring down at you with a heartbroken frown. He looks so genuinely upset that any remaining anger dissipates immediately.

"Mousey," he whispers, "stop. Take a breath."

He looks so blurry. You blink a couple times and realize your panting and crying. No one will look you directly in the eyes except for Alfred, who's visibly tired. There's pity in his eyes.

It stings. God. Everything stings. Your face flushes with color as you realize what you've said and done. You want the earth to open up and swallow you.

It doesn't have to be the earth.

Before anyone can protest, your shadow wraps around your ankles and drags you down, then dissipates.

"Mouse, don't —" Jason kneels on the floor, just a hair too slow. "Fuck."

[bratbarzal]

Maggie you doing blurbs has made my whole week! Could I get “you celebrate this corny day?” “just say you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, ‘kay?” but with friends to lovers instead of enemies? With Quinn pleeeease <3

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

4. “you celebrate this corny day?” “just say you’re lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, ‘kay?” with quinn (I took creative liberties with the exact phrasing of this but the essence is there lmao!! also love you for customising it, if anyone else is requesting feel free to jumble the tropes!!)

"You can't seriously be into all this stuff," Quinn huffs as he watches you pick up another heart shaped pillow down the seasonal aisle in the grocery store - your cart still empty despite being there almost 15 minutes, now - and the object in your hand having no conceivable difference to the one you picked up just before it. "It's so corny."

All he's heard for weeks now is Valentines this, and Valentines that, all his teammates going the extra mile for their significant others like it isn't just the same as any other Friday.

Dozens of roses, candlelit dinners, boxes of chocolates and God-forbid any of them forget a card, because how could you possibly ever show someone you love them without a folded bit of paper.

It's all so stupid.

"It's not corny, it's cute." You throw back over your shoulder, making a point of lifting the pillow higher just to show him, "Look, it's got ruffles!"

"What's the big deal about ruffles," he scowls, stepping past the cart and closer to the display that houses all the valentines themed garbage - pillows, keychains, water bottles and little plushies. He never thought you'd be into all this stuff - you barely even like Christmas - but here you are, fawning over anything you can find that's pink, or fluffy, or both. "You have like 90 pillows back in your apartment, I can barely fit on the couch anymore."

"There are 8 pillows max between both of my couches, Q, and they're decorative." You retort, rolling your eyes at your best friend as his face turns, nose scrunching in a petulant scowl. "I'm not taking interior design critique from someone with a sauna in his kitchen."

"It wouldn't fit anywhere else, you know that." he grumbles, snatching the pillow from your grip and throwing it back with the others.

"What's got you so annoyed about Valentines Day, huh?" you pick up the next item along, a fluffy keychain with cherries shaped like hearts - or hearts shaped like cherries, you're not quite sure - swinging the loop around your finger until you have enough momentum to launch it his way. "Did no one give Quinny a rose?"

He catches it, clumsily, against his chest, holding it in front of him to get a good look before he throws it straight back. "I'm not annoyed. You shouldn't have to buy any of this garbage to show somebody you love them. Just think it's a made up holiday set up to make money off of schmucks. "

"Hey, don't call me a schmuck," you jab a finger into his arm.

"Don't call me Quinny," he jabs back.

"If you don't have anybody to spend Valentines with and you're feeling lonely, you can just say that," You tell him, purposely bordering on condescending, picking up one of the stuffed animals - a bear, holding a heart that reads, I love you - and wiggling it his way. "See, we're all lovers, no one else here is gonna judge you."

He watches the way you pout down at the bear, tapping at its nose with your finger and hesitantly putting it back, like you don't quite want to.

"We're the only ones here, period," he scoffs, "No one else is weird enough to do their grocery shopping at 10pm."

"It was the only time you're free and I need you to haul the big bag of cat food into my car," you pout, remembering how much he had scolded you the last time you tried to do it on your own and hurt your back - promising that the next time you needed to top up, he'd come with and get his own shopping done at the same time.

"Whatever, you don't have anybody to spend Valentines with, either."

"I have Ziggy," you shrug, referring to your cat with the little white patch of fur around it's eye like a lightening bolt - the cat that Quinn had grumbled about when you first brought her home from the shelter, but who he always sought out whenever he came over to your place. "We're gonna watch Bake Off and eat dinner off of matching heart-shaped plates."

You hold up two red ceramic plates to him with a big smile before putting them in the cart, ignoring when he chuckles to himself, and edging past him to finally make your way off of the seasonal aisle.

"Hold on," he calls after you, appearing by your side with another plate in hand. "Ziggy already told me she'd be my Valentine, so we're gonna have to share."

"She's way too high maintenance for you." You snort, bumping your hip against his, "Especially if you think Valentines gifts are corny. She's not a cheap date, Q."

"Just like her mother," he sighs, dramatically, jumping back when you swing your leg out to kick him. "Hey, watch the shins, cat lady, you can't afford the damages on these things!"

He ignores the glare you give him as you watch him retreat, jogging back over to all the Valentines stuff and picking up two bears - the one you were just holding, and a smaller copy - one for you, and one for Ziggy.

"Here," he throws them into the cart, too. You pick the bear back up, twisting your lips as you look at the two of them side by side, and look back up to watch him walking backwards down the aisle, a glint in his eye as he watches you. "Don't check out without me, I need to go pick up some supplements."

"Big macho health-nut thinks I'm the corny one," you speak to the bear like it can even hear you, putting on a grumbly voice in an attempt to mimic Quinn.

"I'm sorry I called you corny!" He calls, further down the aisle, now.

"You called me a schmuck, too!" You call back, cheeks flushing at the lopsided grin he gives just before he rounds the corner at the bottom.

It's a smile he can't really shift as he makes a bee-line for the health aisle, content now that he actually has plans - isn't going to be sitting alone in his apartment with no one to spend his Valentines with, and doesn't need to fork out thousands just for it to mean something.

And when it rolls around a couple days later, and he's sprawled out on your couch, pillows tossed to the floor, and Bake Off flickering almost silently on your TV, he lays back with that same smile etched into his features.

You're asleep under one arm, and Ziggy is purring under the other, and for the first time ever, thanks to his best friend and your overly fluffy cat, he thinks that maybe the holiday isn't such a joke.

[checkeredflagggs]

Febuwhump Day 14: Becoming the Monster

pairings: gen

summary: a story about y/n, Redbull’s new second driver, told in non-sequential order

a/n: I love febuwhump and have participated before for other fandoms but this is a first for me — attempting to compete it via smau only. Hopefully I can write a complete story eventually and I will be posting it on its own masterlist in the correct order to read but it’ll be written based on the febuwhump prompt list! @febuwhump

a/n2: based on the 2024 year; sorry checo but you got replaced earlier!

a/n3: listen I like Lando but I needed a villian here

Masterlist | Taglist

y/n_gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,836,622 others

tagged: y/n_rb, landonorris

y/n_gossip: it seems like little Lando Norris might be thinking of a matador career — he keeps tempting the bulls! After a few close calls with Verstappen, Norris and L/N collided resulting in a DNF for our girl with some pretty harsh words coming from both of their radios afterwards.

view all comments

user1: this is what racing is!

↳user2: I know — I was on the edge of my seat…

user3: pretty harsh?? Girl sounded like she was gonna run him down on foot and take him out

↳user4: lol did you see the rb team after she got back to the garage?

↳user5: they literally just picked her up and moved her away from the reporters ��😂

user6: oh the post race interviews are gonna slap

↳user7: I can’t wait!

user8: that’s so completely unfair! y/n was ahead at the apex — Lando should have given it away, not crashed into her

↳user9: seriously?? Where on earth did you get that information??

↳user8: uhh by watching the screen??

user10: oh shit….

↳user11: Lando’s post interview??

↳user10: how dare he say something like that???

f1gossip

liked by user, user, and 1,457,987 others

Transcript:

interviewer: and what are your thoughts on y/n and your collision today?

Lando: obviously not ideal. You know you never want to be in a collision- especially when it’s not your fault. Y/N…she should spend less time with Max, don’t need her becoming another monster, ya know…

f1gossip: what an interview! During his post race interview for Austria 2024, where he was forced to dnf after two different collisions with both Redbulls, Norris didn’t hold back his thoughts. During this brief moment, he talked about the close friendship between this year’s Redbull drivers — saying that y/n (a rookie) should take a step back from her more senior teammate because no one “[needed] her becoming another monster,”. He also went on to say that he was losing respect for Verstappen and the way he raced.

view all comments

user12: did he really just fucking say that?

↳user13: oh my god he did

↳user14: it’s even worse when you actually watch it because you can just barely see max next to him — when Norris said this, both max and the interviewer froze

↳user13: i mean i would too. That’s a really harsh thing to say about someone

user15: people want cunty f1 back again but can’t handle this little spat??

↳user16: cunty? Yes. Whatever this was? Absolutely not

user17: he’s just salty she’s better then him

↳user18: how do you figure that??

↳user17: she literally won her very first f1 race? He’s been racing for years and only just won his first this year

↳user18: it doesn’t count really. Everyone knows that redbull cheats

↳user17: oh my god just shut up

user20: i feel bad for y/n…it really wasn’t her fault nor did it affect lando too much but he’s (someone she’s said she looks up too before) putting her on blast with some pretty harsh words…

↳user21: she looks up to him??

↳user20: yeah! She’s said multiple times that she really admires how open he is talking about his mental health and that she really wanted to emulate him

↳user21: oh ouch…then today and that interview has got to hurt…

user22: anyone else interested in what she’s gonna do to retaliate?

↳user23: 🙋🏾‍♀️🙋🏾‍♀️

Private Messages, Max and y/n

Taglist

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff @msimpala-67

[astrasng]

kisses shared with ateez 𝜗𝜚

→ summary: ateez as type of kisses. they are down bad for you

→ warning: mainly fluff, nothing else

→ a/n: happy valentine's day to everyone ♡ make sure to treat yourself to something delicious and stay hydrated! ♡ ps: probably jongo's my fav from all of these

here's the masterlist to the event ^^

enjoy!♡

──── ⋆˚࿔ hongjoong || hurried kiss

hongjoong, the busy man he is, often forgets about giving you a kiss before leaving for work. and that often leads to hurried kisses, wanting to give you every single ounce of his love into one messy, i have to leave kiss before finally letting you go. he often can't control his feelings when it comes to you, especially when you are kissing him, your hands in his hair or around his neck, pulling him even closer, meaning that he's deeping the kiss too. starting with a soft kiss, that's what he thougth. it feels so good having your lips on his, so good that he can't let go even though he needs to go to work. and you know that too, but oh well, you're more important, right? because the minute hongjoong pulls away and whispers kiss me more in a hoarse voice tells you that you are more important than anything.

──── ⋆˚࿔ seonghwa || comforting kisses

seonghwa is simply someone who is a comforting person in general. his prescence often makes you calm whenever something stressful is happening in your life. the tone he's talking to you never heard being mean or sour,rather calm and warm. that also goes for his kisses. he often senses you being tired from a long day, only wanting to lay down on your shared bed or couch to sleep a little in seonghwa's arms, which he gladly accepts. whenever that happens, he can't help but press kisses all over your face, your temple, the top of your head or your closed eyelids which only makes you even sleepier. the feeling of his kisses spreads warmth all over your body, snuggling closer into his arms as he keeps his lips pressed on the top of your head. he feels so lucky to have you.

──── ⋆˚࿔ yunho || tingly kiss

the type of kiss that makes you want more and it leaves you feeling all tingly from yunho is just deadly. he always pulls away just before you could kiss him right back intensively, your hands still in his hair as his are steady on your waist. he smiles down at you, and then simply leaves. that's how easy it is for him, the control he has over himself making his ego even bigger when he knows how annoyed you feel at times like these. you can't help but touch your lips like in the movies, feeling your muscle still tingling in the best of the best of terms, literally still feeling his soft lips on yours. how lovingly he can press a kiss on your skin and lips, his body molding into yours to punctuate his unspoken words. in this way, not only his kiss, but his whole prescence makes you tingle with love.

──── ⋆˚࿔ yeosang || surprise kisses

yeosang isn't usually the one initiating the kiss first. he does, from time to time, but it always surprises you when he randomly kisses your temple, or your cheeks, god bless you your lips out of nowhere. even after all these years being together, still feels like it's a surprise feeling him walking up next to you or hopping down on the couch just to give you a kiss. it makes him often realize how rarely he makes the first move. it often makes him angry too, and often all those kisses are originally from him being beaten up on silly things like this. you told him once - don't be silly, i don't mind making the first move! making sure to reassure him that it really doesn't bother you. but still, it makes him want to initiate more things in your relationship, giving you everything you deserve because he loves seeing you being flustered by his sudden actions.

──── ⋆˚࿔ san || the i love yous

whispering i love you between kisses is san's specialty. doesn't matter where you are, or the circumstances. you can either be mad at him for some reason, or be in stupidly in love with him. he doesn't care, because san always wants to let you know how much he loves you. there isn't a time where he doesn't say it, or shows it to you. during cuddling or walking on the street - stopping in midsentence just to kiss you on the lips. deep, and long, feeling his emotions bored into that one single kiss. he whispers i love you when he feels like going in for a second kiss, or saying i love you so fucking much when you are both lost in a heated shared kiss which leads into multiple one.

──── ⋆˚࿔ mingi || kisses from behind

given mingi's height is easy for him to only drop his head lower and press kisses either on your shoulders, or the side of your neck. he grabs the opportunity when he sees you standing with your back to him,either doing something in the kitchen or looking at something at a supermarket. he loves walking up behind you and snaking an arm, maybe both, around your waist to pull himself closer and kiss your skin. it often makes you shiver just from his touch, feeling him behind you and hugging you from behind as he can't seem to stop pecking your exposed skin. sometimes he even murmurs I love your perfume or i missed you so much after a long day of not seeing you.

──── ⋆˚࿔ wooyoung || flustered kiss

wooyoung often sneaks kisses here and there, pressing a quick kiss before leaving on your forehead or cheeks. it doesn't matter, the only thing that matters is that he always gives you a kiss before leaving. but when he's home with you and the air is a little hotter than it should be? woo can't help himself to disattach himself off of you, your perfume pulling him in every time for more kisses and cuddles. and because of this, it often leads him kissing his way up from your wrist all the way up to your collarbones and lastly your lips. he focuses on your lips so much that by the time you two pull away you have to fight for air. he feels proud when he sees your face all flustered and red, ears burning off under his stare as he murmurs cute under his breath.

──── ⋆˚࿔ jongho || palm kisses

he's the romantic type. even if he doesn't necesseraly shows it, he is. he thinks kissing your warm palm of your hand says more i love yous than any other kisses. pressing a long, meaningful kiss in the center of your palm, all the way to your fingertips and to your knuckles feels like he's trying to erupt all the butterflies in your stomach. and he does, because you are left with the deepest shade of red on your face and chest, seeing him smirking under his breath by how cute you are. it's not unusual that he does this, he's a gentleman at heart, but you can't ever get use to him being this flirty and affectionate when it's just the two of you. kudos if he does this little moves of his infront of his friends or family with a wink in your way, you know that you'll marry this man no matter what.

a/n: if you've gotten to this point of my event, thank you so much for reading! i hope everyone had a good time, i tried to go with a more suave feeling for valentine's. ik i had a lot of fun, thank you so much for the notes and reblogs!

taglist: @arunainluv @myraet @peterm4rker @chenlezip

important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

[translatemunson]

save the date

top gun pilots x female!reader blurb cw: mentions of a dress. i believe this can be read as any of the daggers, minus nat (i'm writing something special just for our girl); lmk if i forgot anything.

You’ve gotten the ‘save the date’ months ago. The invitation only came through the mail a few weeks back, but it was 100% set in stone: you were attending your best friend’s wedding with your aviator boyfriend as your plus one. What you forgot to take into consideration was deployment.

It was like playing in a casino: you could get lucky and he wouldn’t be called for a mission until the wedding, or he would be god knows where doing whatever mission the Navy had for him, and you’d be missing him during the wedding.

And since you were never the luckiest person in the room, he got deployed. For six weeks. One month before the wedding date. Good luck telling all your friends you didn’t get dumped, it was just that your boyfriend was government property and they needed him overseas doing some good for the country. It was honorable, but still: you wanted to walk around the venue with a pretty aviator by your side.

It didn’t help that his internet access was limited, nor that you were having second thoughts about attending. Well, if not having someone with you was a problem, he told you he could get one of his friends to take care of you — just so other guys wouldn’t take a chance on his hot girlfriend. But it wasn’t just the lack of your boyfriend that was undermining your presence at the wedding.

One week the dress wasn’t good enough. The next one, just before his deployment, you weren’t sure about the tickets and hotel you booked — he said to keep them, even if he wasn’t going anymore, because you could use the extra space on the plane and the bigger bed. Your first email to him, while deployed, was about how nerve wrecked you were feeling now that your bestie asked you to do a speech. A few days later, you went through it with him, and he reassured you were doing amazing. 

“Gosh, this would be so much easier if you were here,” you admitted on your phone call.

“I know, baby. I promise to take you to a fancy event as soon as I’m back so I can have the chance to see you in that pretty dress.” He was trying his best to cheer you up.

But a phone call across the ocean wasn’t enough. You needed him there, with you, saying you look pretty even though your make up is nowhere near as done. Or telling you look like those old Hollywood stars when your hair was still on the hair curlers. Or saying you need to hurry up before it’s too late to get a nice parking spot at the venue. Or checking if you need a drink or something else during the reception.

You looked down at your phone, hitting “send” on another email, with pictures you took from the party. The whole place is covered with flowers and fairy lights hanging from the trees and ceiling, and you miss him so much it hurts more than your high heels.

You gave your speech minutes ago, and had one of your friends filming it for you. It was a nice piece about your best friend, how she was always the one saying you were gonna be married first but hey, look at you, alone at her wedding. Of course you made fun of the lack of a plus one, but it was fine. You brought back a few embarrassing memories, also spilled some tea on the fact that she had a list with the names for all of their babies. And if one of those names was not inspired by yours, you would be seeing her in court.

“Hey, do you wanna grab another drink with me?” Your friend nudged your arm. “I hate seeing you down.”

“Can you call the Navy and file an official complaint for me? I’ll give you his full name and call sign, so then later I can show up to the courtroom and use those as proof.” You threw your cell phone inside your bag. “Sorry, I’ve been under the weather since the news broke.”

“I know, babe, and I don’t blame you.” She gave you a soft smile. “I think a drink might help you. And maybe I can convince that waiter I’ve told you about to sneak a few sweets for us.”

“Just one more drink, then I’m going back to the hotel.”

“You’re no fun, you know? Maybe something good is happening tonight.”

“Unless you have a teletransportation machine here somewhere to bring me my boyfriend, you can’t trap me for another hour with the promise of good booze alone.”

At the bar, you got yourself your favorite drink. It would be better if he was there, his hand on your waist, making comments about the party or asking you the little details about the people there. It would be his first time in your hometown, getting to know the place you were born and raised. You loved San Diego, but a piece of you would always love your hometown.

“I just wished they had decent Wi-Fi at the ship,” you murmured. “I’ve sent like a hundred pics since I’ve arrived, but still no reply. I can’t believe my own boyfriend is going MIA on me.”

“Hey, maybe it’s just bad connection. And based on what you’ve told me, I bet he’s pissed he’s somewhere in the ocean instead of by the side of his gorgeous girlfriend.”

“Please plan a wedding in the next few weeks so I can attend one with him.”

“Why don’t you plan your own wedding?” She turned the idea around.

“And throw a surprise wedding? I’m crazy, but even I have limits.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t take him too many deployments to pop the big question.”

“I might have to ask him to divorce the Navy before we can get married. Sorry, but I won’t be the mistress in this,” you laughed.

Halfway through your drink, your friend ended up going to talk to one of your colleagues from high school, and you went back to your table, staying up and trying to swing your body in the rhythm of the song — just to get your mind off of things.

You checked your phone, one notification from your email’s app. You clicked on it as fast as you could, blowing out in frustration when you saw it was just a marketing email.

You saw someone approaching from your peripheral vision, and you heard “Tough night?”

“Don’t even get me started.” You pushed your face into your hand.

“Try me, honey.”

You turned your face. And, magically, your boyfriend was there. You blinked a few times, not believing he was really sitting next to you, in a suit. You held tight into his arm, and he said “Did she let you have way too many drinks?”

“No. I mean, are you real?”

“Yes, baby, I’m real.”

“How?”

“Finished the mission early, called in for a few favors, got on the first plane here, and asked your friends to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my, you’re really here.” You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer. The last time you were this close, it was the morning before his deployment. You always took the days up to the deployment as a chance to spend all the time together. Ok, you had to work, and the house chores wouldn’t magically disappear, but as soon as you were both at home, you’d stick to his side as glue.

“Sorry I missed your speech,” he hugged you back. “I’ll watch the footage later.”

“That’s ok. I’m so happy that you’re here,” you kissed his cheek.

“C’mon, let me take a look at my stunning girlfriend,” he took a step back and, with your hand in his, made you spin on your toes. The flowy dress and high heels were far from your daily clothes. “You look better than in the pictures, honey.”

Your cheeks blushed, and you could bet even the make up wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Thanks.” You took a look at him, finally noticing how good he looked in a normal suit. The color suited him like a glove, and you were considering finding a good excuse to see him wearing it again. You kinda begged him to attend in those pretty white suits the Navy had, but he was always saying those were only for special occasions.

“Should we take a picture?” He rested his hands on your waist.

“Sure!”

Now that you officially had your arm candy with you, it was time to walk around the party introducing your boyfriend to your friends. They were all very friendly and excited to meet him, but also kept the Navy related questions to a minimum. He was all smiles and handsy, keeping you close to him as much as possible.

You got your picture, on the balcony, with the gardens as a background to your affection. Your friend convinced one of the photographers to take a few official pictures — she used the “He’s Navy and flew all the way here to be with her!” card. On the first pic, you were close, side by side, smiling but keeping your hands to yourself.

And then the photographer asked you to look each other in the eyes, and it was like your lips had a magnet of some sorts. He pulled you closer, and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “Hold her like that!” the photographer said.

Once you had the pictures taken also on our phone, he took you to the dance floor. A slow song, something your parents would play in the car when you were younger, was telling the steps you were taking. Swaying slowly in the middle of the small crowd, soaking in that moment. You snuggled in closer to his chest, leaving him to lead you. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” you confessed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything before.” He pressed his lips on the side of your head.

“That’s ok. You know I like surprises when they come from you.”

“I know. And I like being with you.” Another kiss on the side of your face. “And I love you.”

You  tilted your head back, connecting your eyes, “I love you too."

[arc-misadventures]

Warning: Smut ahead. You have been warned.

Under the Kotatsu

I froze on the spot. A shiver ran up the course of my spine. A silent gasp escaped my lips. But, I dare not voice it. I was surrounded by people, and the consequences of voice my emotions were too grave to risk.

But, I could barely contain myself. It had been years since someone touched me there, not since I lost my beloved husband. And yet, here we were, sitting underneath a kotatsu, my daughter sitting to my left and across from me sat her boyfriend. Chatting about mundane things, such as the weather, and what not as he slowly rubbed his foot against my groin.

I could feel myself grow wet at his touch. His slow, methodical motions of his foot as he rubbed his toe along my slit. I could barely keep a straight face as I squirmed underneath his touch.

I wanted to yell out, slap him for touching me so. But, I just couldn’t bring myself to. Years of bent up frustration seemed to slowly emerge from within the depths of my soul from his succulent touch.

I struggled to contain my moans, I desperately wanted to let loose, to cry out in unbridled passion at his tough. But I mustn’t, otherwise everything would be ruined if my daughter became aware of what was happening. But, oh gods that thought alone just made it all the more invigorating!

I could just imagine it: My daughter catching me getting off from her boyfriends touch. Her shocked expression displayed across her face as I screamed out in extasy, as I felt a long over due sense of relief as I came from an age of being untouched by anyone, even myself. Oh how intoxicating was that thought I dare say I nearly came from the thought alone.

But, I wasn’t there yet, I needed more, much more before I would reach my climax. I bucked my hips against his foot for the briefest of moments. A signal for him to go harder, to go faster; a signal telling him to make sure I came, soon!

He clearly got the message as I felt his foot press harder against me, rubbing me with much more speed, and passion. By the Brother Gods, I was drowning in the passion, and the love of his touch.

I could feel myself grow closer, and closer to my release. The pleasure from his touch only edging me further along.

I wanted to cry out, let loose a howling guttural moan of unbridled pleasure as I came from his touch. But I couldn’t, it would spoil all the fun if I did.

I was amazed that I managed to hold my moans in. It had been years since I felt such pleasure. It spoke volumes that I was able to hide it from my daughter, and her boyfriend. I was surprised he didn’t react to what he was doing to me.

A soft pant escaped my lips as he pushed on harder and faster than before. I bucked my hips harder against his foot as he edged me. I was close, dangerously close to cumming my brains out, and I couldn’t wait!

I squeezed my lips shut as I moaned deep within my throat, not doubt sounding like a purr of passion within my sealed lips. My body bucking for just a moment as I felt the juices flood my panties. Oh gods, I desperately needed that!

I coughed into my hands to hide my moans. I was basking in this liberating moment for but a second, and yet it felt like ages. My daughter asked me what was wrong, I simply stated I was a little parched. She offered to get us some tea, such a good girl. She soon got up, and left. Leaving me alone with her dear boyfriend.

Oh this was going to be fun!

My face, flushed red from euphoric pleasure turned to face my daughters boyfriend. His wide eyed blue eyes frantically darted between me, and my daughter as she left before his eyes settled upon me. A nervous gulp, and agasped mouth stared back at me.

Oh, that sneaky little devil!

He had been aiming for my daughter, not me! Evidently, he clearly missed the mark. He was stuttering an excuse before I in turn silenced him.

I stared deeply into those deep blue eyes of his, whispering softly to him that it was now my turn. As my stocking clad foot, rubbed against his hardening member.

It was big, shockingly big! I struggled to imagine how his pants held back such a monster.

I started to tease him, both with my foot and the words as I spoke. I told him how he was such a naughty boy; rubbing his girlfriend’s mother off till she came. All the while her daughter sat next to me. Such a naughty boy~!

He gasped softly as I rubbed his cock through his pants. He let loose a poor excuse that he thought he was rubbing off my daughter not me. I asked if they did this often, rubbing one another off, hidden from the sight of others. And, apparently they did, quite often at that.

Explained why the boy was so damn good at it.

He was about to apologize, but I cut him off by thanking him. He stared back at me in shock. I explained to him that it had been years since someone pleasured me like that. Even before I lost my darling husband at that. And, I told him that I had to. No, that I needed to return the favour.

It was only fair after all.

So I pressed my other foot against his groin. With a cock this big, one foot simply couldn’t give it the proper footjob it deserved.

He let out a low moan at my touched. i told him how I envied him, I wanted to scream when I felt his touch, but I couldn’t, not with my daughter next to me. But, hiding it from her was part of it all fun though.

I told him to undo his zipper to let that hard cock out, and he did just so. I marveled in amazement as I felt his long, thick, hard cock between my feet. I desperately wanted to peak under the table to see it in its raw glory, but I wouldn’t get that good of a look from where i was sitting.

I asked him how big he was. He gasped silently as I he told me. A foot?! I held a foot long cock between my feet?! Oh gods. I could only imagine how that would feel inside me.

I was about to ask another question, but was silenced by my daughter coming in. She placed three cups of tea before us, we inhaled the sweet aroma as the tea cooled before us.

The tea smelt nice, but I bet he smelt way, way better.

Our conversation resumed, chatting about how the reconstruction of Beacon was coming along, what they planned to do after it was completed, simple things like that. All the while I rubbed the head of his cock with my toes.

I could see the minute twitches across his face as he struggled to contain the desire to express the pleasure he felt from my touch. I couldn’t help, but wonder if this was what I had looked like when he rubbed me off.

Bet I looked damn good.

He started to buck his hips against my feet, his cock twitching about in my grasp. He was getting close. Good.

I wanted him to cum, to know that an old lady like me could still get a boy… No, a man off with just the simplest of touches. So far I was succeeding, but I need to feel the liquid proof upon my body. I needed it! Now!

But, that was proving to be a challenge. Evidently this boy had stamina for days. Boys with big auras, apparently the rumours about them had more truth to them than they said.

I could feel him twitch more as my feet rubbed him off. He was close dangerously close. Oh gods, I could almost taste it, and oh how I desperately wanted to!

A silent moan escaped his lips as he bucked forward, finally giving me what I wanted! His hot cum plastered all over my feet, and legs! His face giving off a pained, and relived expression as he reached his climax.

My daughter looked at her boyfriend, asking if he was alright, he simply played it off as just being a little tired. All the while I could feel rivers of hot cum run down my feet.

It was such a waste, such a godly load of cum would have felt far better coming out of my gaping pussy than upon my legs.

I shivered in arousal at the mere thought of it.

My daughter said it was late, they should probably get some sleep. She collected the cups and left to her bed. Her boyfriend, and I decided to stay, and chat for a bit.

As my daughter left my line of sight, I quietly whispered to him if he enjoyed himself. The thrill I got when he told me I was better than his daughter was invigorating!

I told him that this wasn’t over, this was merely the beginning of something wonderful.

Amber eyes stared into blue, as a pair of deep lustful smile splayed across our lips as he simple asked.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?”

Oh yeah, I still had it~!

///

Okay, I did change this a little from the original. Just tweaked the grammar, and added some bits to improve the flow.

Don't expect me to do more of these. This is just one I've been wanting to share for years now. And, I finally relented.

Do enjoy~1

[ssentimentals]

NINIIIIIIIII (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) WAAAHHHHH YOUR PROMPT

LIST LOOKS SO YUMMY I CANT WAIT FOR IT!!!!

would i be able to rq prompt no. 1 with dk pls 🥹🩷🩵 and happy carat day!!!!!!!!

- 🫧

awww hi my baby! omg i LOVE the excitement from this message, it's so cute :') of course you can request it, thank you so much for doing it! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

prompt: touch starved/cuddle curse

seokmin knows. knows he can be too much: too touchy, too clingy, too annoying. with time he learned to surpress his desires, moved around like shimmering desire to reach out and touch did not burn under his skin. his ability to adjust in any environment is truly remarkable, his acting skills are so on point that not a single soul knows how deeply he needs physical contact. but any patience can run thin and with additional stress the usual need for closeness leaves him irritated, stripped bare and miserable.

'seokmin?' your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. he looks up and finds you standing in the doorway with a hand raised. 'i knocked twice. sorry, is now a bad time?'

'no-no,' faking a smile is painful but he tries to do so anyway, because he actually likes you and doesn't want you to see him in any other state other than happy. 'come in, sorry, i didn't even hear you.'

you step inside, eyeing him warily. seokmin is sure that you don't see anything attractive in front of you; he probably looks like a worn-out rag and that's not how he wants to ever appear to you. you, however, look wonderful. you always do, at least for him. seokmin loves how any outfit of yours always looks so cozy, so touchable, so cuddly- he shakes his head. god, he's down bad. silently telling himself to get a grip, he asks: 'how can i help you?'

'uno reverse,' you proclaim, frowning. 'how can i help you? you don't look good, seokkie. what's wrong? did something happen?'

seokmin is not sure how to say that he's going to die if he won't hug someone, so what comes out is: 'i'm fine.'

your skeptically raised eyebrow makes it clear that he's busted and when you step closer, leaning on the table a little, his breath hitches. 'do you have a fever?' you ask and without asking reach out and place your hand on his forehead. 'a bit warm. how are you feeling?'

seokmin can't help it- his eyes close on their own accord and he bodily leans forward, chasing your touch. he pushes his forehead closer, his body zings with pleasure just at that little contact. he doesn't see how your eyes widen at this display, how you look confused at first before realization strikes. careful like you're afraid to spook him, you step closer until your legs brush. 'seokkie,' you call out quietly. 'what's wrong?'

seokkie. seokmin shivers at this nickname. in this new city no one called him that and hearing it from you makes him want to cry. he can't tell you what's wrong, doesn't have a courage to do so, but when you hesitantly squeeze his shoulder, he turns fully and opens his arms. one second passes, then another and another - seokmin is ready to die right here and now when you slowly pull yourself into his arms, hugging him tight. the closeness and the warmth of your body make him weak; he buries his head in your shoulder and holds you carefully, afraid to cross the boundary, afraid to spook you, afraid-

'it's okay,' you mumble quietly. 'i don't know what happened, but it's going to be okay.' you pat his back soothingly. 'i'm here. it will be fine. we can hug it out, yeah?'

you don't even know how close to home your words hit. seokmin tries his luck and tightens his arms around you - you don't react anyhow and tension leaves his body as he hugs you close. he hopes you're kind enough to not comment on his rapidly beating heart and tears in his eyes. he hugs you and it really does feel like it will be fine as long as he can stay with you like this.

a/n: i went for touch starved here, hopefully it was okay!! let me know if you liked it <3 - nini

request your own prompt here

[pretty-bratty]

'It's Peter. Parker.'

He slides the phone back into his pocket without much hope. No one will reply - haven't in all these months - and even if someone would, it would be a very annoyed Happy.

It's September, and the mornings are foggy-pink like apples, the evenings are orange from streetlights and fallen leaves - and Peter's been living with this bittersweet mix of hope and anxiety since Germany.

Since Mr. Stark gave him that little talk in the car. Peter tries not to die from embarrassment every time he remembers that not hug.

"You sure you're okay, kid? No feeling sick, dizziness, any other fun stuff?"

Peter hurried to nod, then shake his head. The movement echoed with the pain.

"Yeah, no, I'm-I'm totally fine!"

I don't want you to go.

But Mr. Stark - Tony - had a long night ahead. Lots to discuss with Captain America and the others. Lots to figure out about Cap's friend, the one with the cool arm. And Peter, well, Peter wasn't needed in any of this. Not anymore.

That fight in Berlin airport ended almost as soon as it started. Everyone stopped throwing superpowered punches and started talking, right after-

No. Peter forbids himself to think about it. This memory is saved for before sleep.

And right now he better focus on whatever Ned is saying.

"...in the news."

"Huh?" Peter whips his head to look at his best friend. "Sorry, what's in the news?"

"Mr. Stark," Ned repeats patiently, slurping apple juice. "Saw them in the morning news, him and Cap."

"Really?"

Peter almost asks what suit was Mr. Stark wearing, but bites his tongue before the words slip out. He's not a fangirl gossiping about a popstar. He's just gonna see it himself on YouTube after school.

"They've been asked if a part of the Avengers tower could be open for school field trips."

"Really?!"

Okay, he's repeating himself, but - seriously, he missed that?!

"Yup." Ned smiles dreamily. "Mr. Stark said it's a great idea-"

"Really?!?"

This time Ned gives him a look, and Peter giggles sheepishly. Yeah, alright.

"Yeah dude. Don't get your hopes high though. Cap banned it."

Ugh.

"Said it's dangerous and blah blah blah."

"And rightfully so." Michelle chimes in, and Peter didn't even know she was here. "Imagine all this herd near the alien weapon and superpowered technology."

"O-o-oh, you're the Avengers fan?!" Ned's eyes immediately sparkle as he turns to her.

"Who said so?"

Peter tunes out, looking at the cafeteria. Flash is trying to pour juice into someone's - surprisingly, not Peter's - milk. Yeah. Michelle and Captain Rogers have a point.

But at the same time, what if he could go?! What if they saw him, and remembered how good he did in Berlin (they said so themselves back then), and then Cap would be like 'You could actually help us out with this one, Peter', and Mr. Stark would be like 'I was actually about to tell you to start reporting straight to me, not Happy', and!

And even all that aside, it's just. It would be so cool to just see Mr. Stark.

"Duuude, you totally have a crush." Ned gives him a toothy smile, and Peter realizes, horrified, that he said the last phrase out loud.

"No I don't," he quickly looks around, feeling how hot - and undoubtedly red - his face is. Apparently, Michelle already went away, and Ned was the only one to hear that. Thanks God. "I don't really do crushes, Ned, you know. It's-it's different."

"How different?"

The bell rings, getting them hurrying to Spanish class and saving Peter from the inquisition.

Well, not fully - Ned keeps whispering questions the whole class.

Do you wanna play Kiss-marry-kill and pick from Mr. Stark, Cap and Black Widow?

Would you like him to personally check your internship work?

Imagine if he picked you up from school in one of his cool cars, would you - scratch that, who wouldn’t have wanted it.

Peter is almost grateful when Mr. Ramirez threatens them with detention.

After school he manages to run away, yelling about being late to the internship. The look on Ned's face tells him he's already planning to bombard him with questions tomorrow.

***

The patrolling goes as always. Boring. Yeah, no, it feels great to swing around the city, getting all his energy out and helping wherever it's needed. But so far the highlight of his day is the churro from this nice old Mexican lady - until he sees a robbery near Mr. Delmar's place.

Everything goes exciting at first - he even manages to make a cool fight-talk, before one of the guys pulls out that weird-looking weapon. Peter's muscles tense - and seconds later the whole place explodes. Literally.

He barely remembers how he runs into the sandwich place, helping Mr. Delmar and carrying Murph out. The next thing he sees is the splash of red, white and blue, accompanied by the big wings shadow in the sky. Captain America and Falcon. Peter looks for the flash of red and gold, with the sounds of Led Zeppelin or whatever - heart rabbiting faster than when the actual explosion happened. But there's nothing. He ducks from the Avengers' sight, running into the alley where he left his backpack and clothes, tugs the mask off, and-

"Peter."

For a millisecond his heart drops in his stomach and freezes there, but then he recognizes the voice difference. He turns around to face Steve Rogers - starry shield and all.

"Uh, yes sir? Hi?"

Hi? How lame.

"You were there, fighting with the robbers."

It's not even a question, so Peter just shrugs. Like no biggie, he's doing it every day. Ugh.

"Would you recognize them?"

"No. They were wearing masks, Avengers masks actually. Maybe it's like, something personal?"

Cap makes a thoughtful noise, nodding absentmindedly.

"Where's your friend?" Peter shuts his mouth, but the words are out already.

"Sam?" Cap furrows his brows in confusion. "He's helping with the-"

"No, I saw him." Peter cuts him off. Yeeaaah, May would've been just delighted with his manners. "The other one, from Germany. With the metal arm."

"Oh. Bucky..." there are so many different emotions in how Captain says this name. It feels overwhelming. "He's getting...back to himself. I hope."

He adds the last phrase so quietly that a normal person wouldn't have made it out. Spidey senses deliver it to Peter loud and clear.

"He's nice." Peter offers him a little smile. "Especially when we stopped trying to kill each other."

Captain actually chuckles at that, shaking his head. Then nods back to the explosion.

"Stay away from trouble like this, kid." His face gets the usual shade of solemn. "Those are dangerous people, we'll take care of them."

"I can help!"

"Like I said, it's too dangerous. I'm glad Tony's keeping an eye on you..."

Apparently something's flickering on Peter's face, because Cap frowns. Uh-oh, time to go, time to go. He stumbles back, nearly tripping over a trashcan, and giving Cap a bigger and hopefully not so fake smile.

"Um, sorry, but I actually gotta go, Aunt May will start worrying if I'm not home!"

Captain Rogers crosses his arms, worry clearly showing on his face now.

"Peter? He is, right?"

But he just pulls his mask down, jumps off and swings away, leaving the national hero without an answer. Holy shit.

***

He should've just said yes. Because obviously, Happy being his curator is considered as Mr. Stark keeping an eye on him. And maybe Happy not replying to his messages doesn't mean he's not caring! And now Captain Rogers would tell Mr. Stark about his encounter with Peter, and Mr. Stark would come and yell at him, and oh my God. Well, at least he would talk to him. Except if he's gonna call Peter an ungrateful brat who he doesn't want to do anything with, and Peter wouldn't be able to bear that.

He stops mid-climbing, tears the mask off and presses his face into the red-bricked wall of his building. It's cold to the touch. The night air is chilly and dark blue and full of police sirens and big city noises.

All Ned's questions suddenly pop up in Peter's mind, but none of them are helpful. Peter doesn't know how to call what he feels for Tony Stark, what he's longing for, and what label to put it under. He almost wishes it was a crush, because it would be normal. He would be normal.

What lives and burns in his chest is something in between adoration of a role model, falling in love and needing a father figure - or maybe all of those combined.

He wants to be near him. He wants to do as he says and be good for him. Or not do what he says - and find out what happens.

He just wants Tony to really care about him. To care about him the most of all. Like during that short time - no, Peter, stop - in Berlin airport... He tries to stop thinking back to that moment but fails. He lets his eyes close and sees everything as if it's happening right now.

***

Thinking back, adrenaline - that's what Peter felt the most. The rest was just a big noisy mess, flooding the whole world and overwhelming his senses. He missed when and how the reasonable - well, sort of - conversation turned into a fight. Maybe it happened while he was too busy filming? But anyways, everyone was fighting now. And it wasn't a cool battle against baddies, wasn't protecting what's right from what's evil. There weren't bad guys. There were confused guys, hurt guys, guys who didn't manage to talk it all out, and now were too angry and adrenaline-infused to do anything but fight and hurt each other. They reminded Peter a bunch of riled up first graders. What could he do though? Mr. Stark got his full and devoted loyalty...he wasn't sure when exactly that happened. Maybe even before the man burst into his little room, spitting date loaf and making innuendos about May. That's - that's whatever. Peter didn't really want to fight other Avengers, and he wanted Mr. Stark to fight them even less, because he saw how hurt it actually makes him.

Yet, here they were. Fighting.

"Sorry, guys, I just really gotta impress Mr. Stark!" Peter yells to Cap's friends.

One just looks annoyed, and the other - the mysterious metal-armed one - bugs his eyes out. Peter knows that he's the reason the whole ruckus started and that Mr. Stark doesn't like him for some reason.

"S' just a kid," the metal-armed dude breathes out, and okay, now Peter doesn't like him too.

He webs him down to the concrete, smirking under the mask.

"How's that from a kid?!"

Metal Arm is grunting something, but Peter doesn't have time to listen. There's something crazy going on.

"Hey guys, have you ever seen this really old movie, The Empire Strikes Back?!"

His spidey senses are overflowing with information. He's overexcited, high on adrenaline, giddy with being accepted by real superheroes, and-

BOOM.

Something huge, like a train on full speed, smashes into him. Peter sees stars flashing under his eyelids - cartoons don't lie, it really happens - and then everything goes black and he starts falling. He tries to use his webshooters, but for some reason it doesn't work out. Everything's going awfully fast. Peter hears someone cursing, flails his arms around, heart in his stomach - and suddenly there's a strong grip across his body. Peter opens his eyes - turns out he was squeezing them shut - and sees the metal arm. There's a red star on it. The next moment the grip changes, and there's a soothing glow of shiny upturned triangle, and red and gold suit, and Peter blacks out.

When he wakes up, Black Widow is giving Mr. Stark an incredulous look.

"Jesus Christ, Tony. If I knew that's what you meant by 'your guy', I would've said no right away."

Peter pouts at her, and it only makes her nod as if in confirmation.

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"It's an actual child, Tony!" That's Cap.

Seems like they didn't kill each other while Peter was unconscious. Which is, would be nice to know for how long.  Everything feels funny. Maybe he has a concussion?

"What?! Don't give me that judging glare, Capsicle. You just dropped half a building on that child-"

"And I was wrong!"

"-even your assassin bestie didn't do that."

That's the first time Mr. Stark addresses Metal Arm not as a mortal enemy, and everyone falls quiet, staring.

"And this is what I've been trying to talk to you about," Cap gets everyone's pointed looks and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, okay. I haven't really. And it was wrong of me. I should have."

Peter opens his mouth - for some reason, it feels awfully dry, and it takes an effort to part his lips.

"S' so stupid, you fighting." He cannot believe he's saying this to the Avengers, his heroes, for crying out loud. He definitely has a concussion. "S' how all the worst wars happen..."

He blacks out again after that, and when he wakes up, everything's over. The brewing war that was about to start never happens. Mr. Stark and Captain are talking, then them both and Metal Arm are talking, everyone is talking and no one has time for Peter.

And actually, he should've understood back then - he's just not needed anymore. Because he was just that - 'my guy' as in a help in a fight, not as in 'mine'.

***

He shakes himself out of the memories, realizing he's still clinging to the wall, without a mask, cheek warming up the old bricks. Without a mask! What if someone sees him! What if May sees him - what's he even thinking about!

Peter lets out a sharp breath and quickly picks up his pace. Up, into the window, climb over the ceiling, quietly close the door - why is it even open - on the floor. He taps the suit, letting it loosen and fall down, leaving him in boxers.

"Agility - 10 out of 10. Attention - we're going to negative numbers here." The painfully familiar voice speaks up from the semi-darkness of his bed, and Peter stumbles and plops on his ass.

"Correction, 9 instead of 10." Mr. Stark watches him intently, popping some snack into his mouth.

[dumbgoondog]

On Display(Part 2)

MDNI +18 NSFW

Fem Reader, them getting to see your cunt for the first time. Might make full fics later, tell me which you want to see.

Ft. Kenjaku, Uraume, Toji, and Mahito(pre + in relationship)

Cw/Tw - degradation, humiliation, slight foot play(Uraume) Mahito is a tw, stalking and peeping(Mahito)

KENJAKU

They’ve seen plenty before, they know this little song and dance of, oh it’s my first time! The blush, the look away, the squirm, biting the lip, even if it wasn’t your first time with someone it was your first time with him. It was especially embarrassing since he had you face down, ass up, and legs spread so everything was on full display for Kenjaku to admire.

“You’re already wet, dripping even. Is it the anticipation or that I’m watching you? Perhaps it’s not even helping to know how I can see how much you want this?” Kenjaku muses and teases, you can hear the coy smile in his voice and his hands moving from your thigh to your ass. Their thumbs reach and spread your folds earning a startled jolt and in response Kenjaku grips your hips tight, pulling you closer to him and kissing at your cunt, “Now now, there’s no need to be shy anymore. I have you fully presenting for me, you were the one asking for me as well my dear. Let me enjoy this view, it’s been a bit~!”

URAUME

They were just standing there, arms folded together, as you folded your clothes and set them to the side obediently. You’re naked now a slight cold breeze hitting your cunt, fully exposed to the air but you kneel as they instructed and look up to them a bit shyly but with anticipation. Uraume stares down face blank but you having gotten to know and be with them see the slight blush in their ears and the slight smile at the corners of their mouth.

“Your display is adequate,” Uraume purrs, lifting a legs out and their foot pushes apart your knees to expose yourself more, just for them to tap at your cunt with their foot, “you’re this wet already? What are you, a whore? Can’t even keep it together when undressing?” They jab with their words, pulling their foot away, “Well then, you’ll have to earn my touch, so why don’t you start by touching yourself, hmm?”

TOJI

“God damn, keepin this slutty fat pussy from me for so long,” Toji growls his hand under your skirt cupping and squeezing you roughly, he didn’t even care that you two were in public, “she’s slobberin all ova my hand like a bitch in heat. You might not even need lube when I fuck your tight cunt huh babygirl?”

Your face is beet red, Toji had always been very straightforward and a grab it by the horns kind of guy but… here?! In public?! He’s squeezing and tugging at your clit, your folds, his thumb prodding at your ass and he’s snickering, “Damn even your ass is trying to get some, you this desperate for cock or jus’ mine babygirl?”

MAHITO(Pre-relationship)

You were so busy, fingers dipping in and out, rubbing circles on your clit, moaning, to even notice the visitor who had joined you in your bathroom. Mahito’s eyes were wide not in surprise but so that he could drink in every bit of the heavenly wine you offered him. The way your body arched, the way your mouth hung, eyes shut tight, the shakes, he’s biting his lip and it’s bleeding but god does he not care.

Mahito’s taking note of the movements you make, where you’re touching, the curves and dips, where it squishes and he’s planning the places he wants to touch too! He’s watching you come undone, hitting the high of climax, your legs buckling and the moans. Mahito giggles leaning his head on his hand before sitting up and realizing he’s gotta go! Quickly he’s up and dashing out before he’s caught!

MAHITO(In relationship)

You’ve barely got your pants around your ankles when you feel that freak latch onto your hips and pull your ass to his face. His long tongue lapping at your underwear covered cunt and you squeak reaching back and hitting him on the head. He scoots back a little startled blinking innocently like he’s done nothing wrong and he pouts at you, “whaaat? Can’t a little guy be excited, hmm? It’s not like your cunt isn’t soaking through your panties! You’re excited too, your body gives you away!”

You huff and are about to speak when he’s pushed his face back in, a hand coming up and pulling aside your underwear rather than off. His tongue is dancing between your folds touching all your favorite spots and you’re quick to become putty mewling at his touch. The thick dexterous appendage pulls up and dips into your entrance, just the tip, licking at your gummy dripping cunt hungrily before he pulls back with a satisfied sigh, “Mmh~ I knew you’d taste good! Your noises are just as good as I remember too!” And before you can ask or let that sink in, his tongue is sinking back in.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: "The Background"

Part 8

And now, here you were. Sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your hands, your chest so tight you could barely breathe.

The silence in the hotel room was suffocating. The girls had gone to their rooms, chattering about how cool Mia was, about how fun she seemed, how lucky she was to have such a great job. You had barely said a word the entire car ride back, staring out the window, your thoughts spiraling.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Marshall stepped out, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. He was watching you—he had been since you left the restaurant.

"You gonna tell me what’s wrong?" His voice was careful, patient.

You shook your head, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "Nothing’s wrong."

"Bullshit." He tossed the towel onto a chair and crossed the room, standing in front of you. "You barely spoke at lunch. And I saw you, sitting as far away from me as possible. So what is it?"

You clenched your jaw, refusing to look at him. "It’s stupid."

"Let me be the judge of that."

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "I saw the way you looked at her."

Marshall’s brows pulled together. "Who? Mia?"

Your stomach twisted at the way he said her name, like it was nothing. Like she wasn’t a threat. Like she wasn’t everything you weren’t.

"She’s exciting," you whispered, your voice shaking. "She’s beautiful, and confident, and fun. She has this whole incredible life, and you—" Your throat tightened. "You and the girls were hanging onto every word she said. Like she was this bright, shiny thing and I was just… in the background."

Marshall took a step back like you had physically hit him. "You think—" He let out a breath, running a hand down his face. "*You think I look at her and wish you were more like that?"

You shook your head quickly, but the words kept spilling out. "I know I’m not exciting, Marshall. I’m not some gorgeous, put-together woman with a dream career and an entire world outside of my family. I’m just… a mom. That’s it. That’s all I have. And I can feel it—the way the girls are looking at her, like she’s incredible, like she’s everything I’ll never be. And maybe one day, you’ll wake up and realize it too."

The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

Then, Marshall swore under his breath, dragging a hand over his jaw before dropping to his knees in front of you. He took your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. "You think I’m gonna wake up one day and leave you for someone like Mia?"

You couldn’t answer. You couldn’t say it out loud.

"Jesus, babe." He shook his head, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. "You have no idea how wrong you are."

"Then why do I feel this way?" you whispered. "Why do I feel like I’m fading into the background of your life?"

"Because you don’t see yourself the way I do." His voice was rough, frustrated. "I don’t need someone ‘exciting.’ I don’t need ‘bright and shiny.’ I need you. The woman who gave me a family when I never thought I’d have one. The woman who saw me at my worst and still fucking stayed. The woman who—" His voice broke for a second, but he swallowed it down. "You think Mia’s got it all? You think she’s got this perfect life? I bet she’d trade every piece of it just to have this. To have what we have."

Your chin trembled, and Marshall exhaled, pressing his forehead to yours. "I don’t want someone else. And the girls? They adore you. You’re their home. And I swear to God, if I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough, then I fucked up. Because you are. You always have been."

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. Letting yourself believe them.

Because maybe, just maybe, he was right.

---

Marshall woke up before you the next morning. He didn’t move right away, just lay there, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest as you slept beside him. Your face was peaceful in sleep, but even now, there was a tension there—a weight in your expression that hadn’t been there years ago.

Last night’s conversation sat heavy in his chest. You think I’m gonna wake up one day and leave you for someone like Mia? The way you had looked at him when you said it—like it was some inevitable truth—made something deep inside of him crack.

You really didn’t see yourself the way he did. And that realization fucking hurt.

Because to him? You weren’t just his wife. You were his anchor, his safe place, the reason he still had a life worth fighting for. But somewhere along the way, you’d convinced yourself you were just a shadow in his world.

And that? That was unacceptable.

With a deep breath, he rolled out of bed and padded quietly into the bathroom. His reflection stared back at him—tired eyes, tattoos standing out against his skin, a face that had seen too much but somehow still had everything. He thought about all the times you had pulled him back from the edge, all the times you had put him first. And now? It was his turn.

By the time you woke up, the smell of coffee filled the hotel room. You stirred, stretching, and found him sitting in the chair across from you, sipping from a Styrofoam cup, his eyes already on you.

"You’re staring," you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah," he said simply, taking another sip.

You sat up, rubbing your hands over your face before reaching for the extra coffee cup on the nightstand—because of course he’d brought you one. "What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged. "Just thinking."

You raised an eyebrow. "That’s dangerous."

A small smirk tugged at his lips, but it faded quickly. "About last night."

You stiffened slightly, looking down at your coffee. "Marshall—"

"No, listen to me." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You really don’t get it, do you?"

You frowned. "Get what?"

"How much you matter." He shook his head, looking almost pissed—not at you, but at the fact that he even had to say it. "You think you’re just in the background? That you’re just the ‘boring mom’ while everyone else gets to have this big, exciting life?"

You swallowed hard, but didn’t answer.

"Babe, do you know how many times I’ve looked at you and thought, ‘Fuck, I don’t deserve her’?” His voice was rough, raw. "You held our family together when I was falling apart. You took care of the girls, you took care of me, and I was too fucking out of my mind to even realize how much of a weight you were carrying."

"That was a long time ago," you whispered.

"That doesn’t mean it doesn’t count." He set his coffee down, running a hand over his face before looking back at you. "I know I’m not good at saying this shit. I know I should’ve told you all this a long time ago. But I need you to hear me now."

You stayed quiet, gripping your coffee like it was the only thing keeping you steady.

"You are the best thing that ever happened to me," he said, voice steady, unwavering. "You’re the best thing that ever happened to our girls. And if you can’t see that? Then I guess I’m just gonna have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

Tears burned behind your eyes, but you blinked them back, exhaling a shaky breath. "Why are you saying all this now?"

Marshall let out a small, humorless laugh. "Because I saw it last night. The way you look at yourself. And I fucking hate it."

You looked down, fingers tightening around your cup. "I don’t know how to change it."

Marshall stood up then, walking over to the bed and sitting beside you. He took the coffee from your hands, setting it on the nightstand before gently tilting your chin up so you had to meet his gaze.

"Then let me help you." His voice was softer now, the fire in his eyes tempered by something deeper. "Because I swear to God, babe, you deserve to see yourself the way I see you."

You let out a shuddering breath, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you could.

The words lingered between you, heavy and raw. Then let me help you.

You wanted to believe him, wanted to take what he was offering, but you didn’t know how. Years of self-doubt, of shrinking into the background, weren’t something you could just turn off like a switch.

Marshall was watching you carefully, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he exhaled through his nose and ran a hand over his face.

"Alright," he said finally, standing up. "Get dressed."

You blinked. "What?"

"Get dressed," he repeated, already moving toward his suitcase. "We’re going out."

You frowned, pushing the blankets off your lap. "Where?"

"You’ll see."

---

You ran your fingers over a soft sweater, something simple but elegant. It was beautiful, the kind of thing you imagined someone who deserved nice things would wear. You flipped over the price tag.

$320.

Your stomach twisted.

You set it back immediately, like touching it too long would somehow charge you for it.

You knew Marshall meant well, bringing you here. He wanted to do something nice for you. But standing in this boutique, surrounded by price tags that made your head spin, you felt like you were suffocating.

Still, you pretended to browse, keeping your hands tucked into the sleeves of Marshall’s hoodie—something you’d grabbed from his suitcase this morning because it was comfortable and familiar. You moved toward the kids’ section instead, thumbing through little dresses and tops, picking out a couple of things for the girls.

This? This was fine. You could justify spending money on them. You never hesitated when it came to the kids, always making sure they had the best. They deserved it.

But you?

Marshall was waiting by the register when you approached, his arms crossed over his chest. He raised an eyebrow at the clothes in your hands. "What’s that?"

"Just a couple things for the girls," you said casually, setting them on the counter.

He didn’t move. "Babe…that’s not why we’re here."

You sighed. "Marshall, I—"

"No." He shook his head. "This isn’t about them. This is about you."

Your stomach clenched. "I don’t need anything."

"That’s not the point."

You swallowed, your eyes darting around the store before lowering your voice. "Marshall, this stuff is expensive. I can’t—"

"You can." His voice was firm but patient. "Why won’t you?"

You bit your lip, avoiding his gaze. "Because it’s not my money."

He stared at you, brows drawing together. "What?"

You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling small. "I don’t work, Marshall. I don’t make money. You do." You exhaled sharply, trying to make him understand. "I can spend on the girls because they’re ours, but spending it on myself? Just for me? It feels…selfish."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, carefully, "You think you don’t deserve nice things because you take care of our family?"

You shifted uncomfortably. "I think…I don’t earn money, Marshall. I don’t go out and work. I take care of the house, and the kids, and I’m happy to, but that doesn’t mean I should be spending your money on—"

"Stop calling it my money." His voice was suddenly sharp, and you flinched slightly. His expression softened, but his eyes stayed intense. "It’s our money. You think I could do what I do without you? You think I could’ve built this life without you holding shit down at home? He let out a bitter laugh. "You think this is some kind of favor you’re doing for me?"

You opened your mouth, but he wasn’t finished.

"I go to work, yeah. I make the money, yeah. But you run everything else. You take care of the kids, the house, me—me, babe—like it’s a full-time job, and you don’t even clock out. You make sure our girls have everything they need, and you never fucking hesitate to spoil them, but you won’t even let yourself have something nice?" He exhaled roughly. "How is that fair?"

You dropped your gaze, shame burning in your chest. "I don’t know how to just…buy things for myself," you admitted quietly. "It doesn’t feel practical."

He sighed, stepping closer, tilting your chin up so you had to look at him. "Babe…you’re allowed to have things that make you happy. Even if it’s just a stupid sweater or a nice pair of jeans. You don’t have to live in my old t-shirts and leggings forever."

Your throat tightened. "But I like your t-shirts and leggings."

A small, crooked smile tugged at his lips. "I know you do. But just once…can you let me do something nice for you? Just because I want to?*"

You hesitated, your heart pounding. But when you looked at him, really looked at him, you realized this wasn’t just about clothes.

This was about letting yourself believe you were worth it.

Swallowing hard, you gave him a tiny nod.

And the relief on his face told you that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to believe it too.

[dustyrkives]

HC's of how Ada Wong from RE4 takes care of you when you're sick :D

WARNINGS: None! Wholesome stuff here, folks. Mostly just about how this ruthless, calculating mercenary turns slightly soft when you're sick.

MEN DNI, seriously

🌹: Ada won't smother someone in concern when her lover has gotten ill, but she'll always be there, watching carefully. Once again, folks, Ada isn't someone who outright says, "I'm worried." But with her keen eye, she'll notice even the smallest changes: your temperature, breathing, appetite–and acts accordingly

🌹: If she's efficient in her missions, she is as well with your needs. Medicine? Cool compresses? Broths? She'll give it to you. She'll make sure you stay hydrated and eat nutritious food, and if you protest, well–she'll just raise a brow. "Humor me, baby. Just a few bites." And you end up finishing the whole thing, and her lips would curl into a smirk and take the empty bowl away.

🌹: Ada might not be big on gestures, but that doesn't mean she isn't tender. She'd brush her fingers through your hair to lull you to sleep or make you feel at ease, adjust your blankets, sit beside you, and play with your hand while she reads or watches TV. And no, she won't get sick–her body has already built a unique immune system thanks to her missions, so that means cuddles galore!

🌹: I know for a fact that this woman stays up longer than usual to check on your condition. If you try to tell her off about it, her common response will be: "I'm used to fewer hours of sleep, baby. It's okay." Anything to ensure that you're breathing normally, yes? If you stir in your sleep, guaranteed she'll be there to lull you back to slumber.

🌹: And if your condition gets worse–and she hopes to god it doesn't, she has every connection possible. She's a spy and a mercenary, granted, she made some friends from the healthcare world, and she'll patch you right up with them if the need arises. Your health is non-negotiable.

🌹: When you slowly get better, she lets you walk around the house to give your body its proper circulation–but she won't let you overextend your new condition. Her eyes would follow you everywhere you go in the house, and from time to time, she'd stick close to you to ensure nothing goes wrong.

🌹: And when you're finally healed? Ada plays it off like it was nothing, brushing aside any gratitude with a teasing smirk. But when you're not looking, her expression softens, and she lets out a breath of relief. She'd press a lingering kiss on your forehead, then your lips–letting her guard down just for a moment.

[enemiestolovershoe]

Hiiii i love your writting so much and i would love if you could write a noah X reader inspired by the song 7 minutes in hell by chrissy costanza

Seven Minutes In Hell

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship, Intense emotional manipulation, Arguments and fighting, Emotional whiplash, Dark themes of obsession and unhealthy attachment, sexual content (no smut)

Words: 1.2k

A/N: Thank you so much anon! 💕

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

"Oh my god, do angels ever fall this hard?"

Your hands were shaking. Not from fear—no, not that. From frustration, from rage, from the overwhelming need to scream until your lungs burned.

But you didn’t.

Because you were too busy staring at him, at the mess of a man standing in front of you, his brown eyes burning with the same anger you felt twisting inside you.

Noah fucking Sebastian.

Your greatest mistake.

Your greatest obsession.

Your greatest sin.

And yet, even now, after everything, you couldn’t stop. Couldn’t walk away. Couldn’t breathe without him even if being with him felt like suffocating.

You slammed your phone onto the counter, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. “Why the fuck do I always have to find out from someone else?”

Noah scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “Here we go again.”

“No, seriously,” you snapped, stepping forward. “Why do I always have to hear about your bullshit secondhand?”

“I don’t owe you a fucking explanation,” he shot back, voice dripping with irritation. “You wanna know something? Maybe stop listening to everyone else and ask me first.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “Right. Because you’re such an honest guy, huh?”

He clenched his jaw, muscles tensing. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you sneered. “Call you out on your bullshit?”

His hand slammed against the wall, inches from your head, his body caging yours in. “You wanna act like I’m the only one who’s fucked up?” His breath was hot against your skin, his tone low, dangerous. “Like you’re not just as bad?”

The worst part was that he was right.

"The devil dancing in the dark, I kinda like it in his arms."

And maybe that was the problem.

Because even now, even after all the screaming, the accusations, the nights spent wondering why the fuck you stayed. Hispresence still set your skin on fire. His anger still made your pulse race.

You should’ve shoved him away. Should’ve left him standing there in his stupid black hoodie, with his stupid, messy hair and his stupid, intoxicating gaze.

But you didn’t.

Because you never did.

"Come my way."

His lips were on yours before you could stop him, his hands gripping your waist with bruising force. You gasped against his mouth, but it wasn’t in protest.

It never was.

His teeth dragged against your lower lip, and you whimpered—pathetic and needy. His grip tightened, and you let him have you. Because that was what you did. You gave and he took and you never once thought to stop him.

Because you didn’t want him to.

"When you kiss me, I can feel fire within me. Heaven’s got me burning. Yeah, you got me playing seven minutes in hell."

His mouth left a scorching trail down your neck, his breath heavy, ragged. “You drive me fucking insane.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, letting him press you harder against the wall. “Good.”

"Touch me, bringing me down to my knees."

And you did. Over and over again. Because this was the only way you two knew how to communicate—through touches that burned, through gasps that replaced apologies, through passion that should’ve never been mistaken for love. 

But it always was.

"Love the taste of sinning."

You hated yourself for this. For craving him even when you swore you never would again. For wanting him even when his voice still rang in your head, sharp and cruel from the last fight.

But you weren’t the only one.

Because Noah was just as fucked.

Noah’s POV

"Close your eyes. I’m gonna be your favorite vice. Forbidden from your paradise. You wanna take a little bite."

She looked like a fucking angel—eyes dark with anger, lips swollen from his kisses, skin burning under his touch.

And he wanted to ruin her.

No, he already had.

“You think you’re so fucking innocent?” he muttered against her lips, hands gripping her thighs. “Like you’re not just as twisted as me?”

She exhaled sharply, her nails dragging against his scalp, a mix of anger and need in her eyes. “Shut up, Noah.”

A smirk pulled at his lips. “Make me.”

And she did.

"Close the door. Oh, drop your halo to the floor. No, you don’t need it anymore. I’ll never leave you needing it anymore."

Her hands were trembling, but not with fear. No, it was something else entirely. Something dangerous. Something that matched the fire in his own veins.

And he wanted to ruin her with it.

“You always come back,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She exhaled sharply. “And you never let me go.”

Noah smirked, tilting her chin up. “You don’t want me to.”

And maybe she didn’t. Maybe that was the problem. She was his. Even if she hated it, even if she hated him. Shebelonged to him. Just like he fucking belonged to her.

It was a curse.

A disease.

And neither of them wanted the cure.

"When you kiss me, I can feel fire within me. Heaven’s got me burning. Yeah, you got me playing seven minutes in hell."

She gasped into his mouth and he groaned, his hands fisting in her hair. The way she tasted—like whiskey and bad decisions, like something he couldn’t quit. He was drowning in her, lost in the way she gasped against his lips, in the way her body curved against his like she was made to fit him.

He was supposed to be the devil in this story, but God, she felt like heaven.

And that terrified him.

Didn’t want to quit.

Would never quit.

"Touch me, bringing me down to my knees."

His mouth ghosted over her jaw, down her neck, lower, lower. Her fingers twisting in his hair as he dropped to his knees in between her legs.

Because that was how it always ended. With them tangled in sheets, out of breath, drenched in sin and sweat, pretending the world outside didn’t exist.

Until it did.

Until the cycle started all over again.

Until the fire consumed them both.

Readers POV

The sheets were tangled around your legs, your body still humming from the aftermath. But the peace didn’t last. It never did.

Because the second you opened your mouth, the spell shattered.

“Noah,” you whispered.

He didn’t move.

You hesitated, then reached for him, fingers grazing his back. “What the fuck are we doing?”

Noah let out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his hair. “Burning.”

You swallowed hard. “And when there’s nothing left?”

Silence.

Then, finally, he turned to you, eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

"Why do I feel heaven on your skin? When I wanna be your eighth deadly sin?"

He leaned in, lips hovering over yours, voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“There’s always something left.”

And maybe that was the worst part.

Because no matter how much it burned, no matter how much it hurt—You’d both keep coming back for more.

Taglist: @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @courta13 @Lacy1986 @chey-h

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[bvrnesher]

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

cw: make out ! Everything is very sweet, actually.

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ🌙ㅤ˳ 𝒋𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆 ¡ 𝒇𝒆𝒎. 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

﹙𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆! ﹚ꪆ

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟏𝟐𝟏𝟓 | 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 ¡ 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒂𝒏 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏 ¡ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊

𝗝𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 pressure. He’d led battles, commanded legions, and nearly died more times than he cared to count. But nothing—nothing—compared to the sheer panic of trying to make your Valentine’s Day perfect.

Which was stupid. You’d had way too many Valentine’s Days together.

And Jason knew it was stupid. You’d been living together for two years now. He knew exactly how you took your coffee, that you always stole the blankets in your sleep, the way your face definitely wasn’t subtle whenever he took off his shirt in the mornings.

And yet, here he was, stress-cleaning the kitchen counter for the fifth time, triple-checking his plans for the day.

Breakfast? Cooking was too risky in his current state, so he had gotten up early to pick it up from your favorite café. Flowers? Your favorites, fresh and perfectly arranged on the table. Gifts? Hidden in the closet, waiting for the perfect moment. Dinner reservation? Your go-to place, triple confirmed.

He took a deep breath. Everything was fine. He was fine.

"Dude," Jason muttered, gripping the back of a chair. "Get it together."

That’s when he heard your sleepy voice from the doorway, followed by a yawn.

"Who are you talking to?" you asked, rubbing your eyes as you walked into the kitchen.

He spun around so fast he nearly tripped.

"No one," he blurted, trying—and failing—to look casual.

His heart did a weird little flip when he saw you standing there in nothing but one of his old shirts—way too big on you, by the way—and a pair of white underwear. Sleepy eyes, messy hair, looking way too good for someone who had just woken up.

You gave him a once-over.

"You’re stressed," you stated. Not a question.

"What? Me? No," Jason denied immediately, crossing his arms. Then uncrossing them. Clearing his throat. Rubbing the back of his neck.

Your gaze flicked to the table, the coffee cup trembling slightly in his hands, the way his jaw was clenched like he was bracing for a fight. You stepped closer, resting your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat going way too fast.

"Jase." You looked up at him, biting back a smile. "You do know we’ve been together for years, right?"

"Yeah."

"You don’t have to impress me."

"…I know."

A pause. Then—

"What if I want to?"

"Wait—do I smell coffee?" you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your face in the soft wool of his sweater.

He let out a breath, relaxing slightly as he wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"I got you breakfast," he murmured, his voice low and content.

"Did you burn the first one?" you teased, grinning against his chest.

He huffed, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

"Har har," he said, rolling his eyes fondly. "Hilarious."

You laughed, and his chest felt a little lighter.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, love," he said softly.

You smiled, letting go of his waist only to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a slow, lingering kiss.

Jason melted into it instantly, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer in a way that was far too natural by now.

The kiss was slow, warm, easy.

Like all of Jason’s kisses.

Jason’s heart sped up, but his shoulders relaxed. Having you this close in the morning, just standing there in the kitchen with the city noise outside... Gods, saying Jason loved you didn’t even come close to covering it.

His hands slid to your waist, pulling you even closer, needing the warmth of your presence.

You gently pulled back, just enough to speak. "You don’t have to impress me, seriously." You said, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I already am."

Jason chuckled softly, the sound deep and warm in his chest. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, still feeling the weight of the day ahead. "I want it to be perfect, though. It’s you."

Your gaze softened, and without responding, you tugged him back to you, sealing your lips in a slow, gentle kiss, pulling him closer.

His hand tangled in your hair, massaging your scalp in that soft, slow way you loved. Jason bit your lower lip gently, pulling a quiet gasp from you.

He wasted no time, slipping his tongue into the warmth of your mouth, deepening the kiss, guiding you back until your lower back hit the counter. He pressed his free hand to the edge of the counter to keep you steady, holding you against him.

The kiss turned more urgent, your hands sliding over his chest, shoulders, and arms, pulling him tighter to you, not letting him go. A low groan escaped him when your hand slipped under his sweater, your fingers sending shivers down his spine.

His stomach tightened under your delicate touch, the feeling leaving behind a heat that made him feel like he was burning.

Both of Jason’s hands found the hem of your—his—shirt, sliding under it to feel the soft skin of your waist. His thumbs made slow, lazy circles.

"Can’t help it," he murmured softly against your lips, "you’re just... too distracting."

You smiled, a quiet laugh slipping from your lips. "Now I really want you to impress me..." You whispered, biting his lower lip and tugging lightly.

Shit.

Jason felt the heat building in all the wrong places for this time of morning, the bulge under his sweatpants starting to form just from that small action. His chest tightened at your teasing, at the way you touched him, at the way your body was pressed against his with him pinning you to the counter.

"Maybe I do," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, searching for something, trying to find any sign that you were just messing with him.

But there was no doubt, not even a hint that you were just teasing him.

Without another word, he kissed you again, one of his hands left your shirt to slide further up, finding the curve of one of your breasts. He cupped it in his hand, squeezing and massaging with a gentleness that was only worthy of Jason Fucking Gentleman Grace.

You gasped under his touch, your nipples hardening against the coolness of his hands.

"Jase..." you managed to say his nickname, only to feel his lips leave yours in search of more skin to worship.

"So soft..." He murmured softly, lowering his lips to your jaw line, trailing down your neck with open-mouthed kisses. Then, finally finding that spot that always shorted you out.

He took your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a gentle pinch that elicited a moan that made Jason's skin crawl. He didn't even bother trying to hide his own desire.

Jason felt his cock growing uncomfortably hard under his sweatpants. Reaching down, his hand found the waistband of your panties, teasingly tugging them down.

Jason stopped just to grab your hips, trying to keep you in place as he thrusted his hips into yours, looking for some short of friction that you might could provide.

Your breath hitched, feeling him press his boner against you while he pressed soft kisses against your skin.

"Happy Valentine's Day to you, too." You whispered.

"I love you," He murmured against your neck, biting softly.

Jason nervouses were forgotten a long while ago. You were perfect in his arms, and that's all that mattered for him right now.

Plus, he wasn't going to think about anything other than making love to you for the next couple hours, that's for sure.

#NOTE: Babes, This is the first time I've written something like this, and it's not even good TT. Plus, I just wrote it and it's 3am, I'm sleepy. I swear I'll write something better when my eyes aren't closing!

𝒙𝒐𝒙𝒐, 𝒔.

[kenziexoxoxo]

Valentines day for everyone I write for lord help me

Warnings: this is pure smut no real plot this is also gonna be a lot of words enjoy and happy valentines day 😉 @schumi-angel he's somewhere in here he's towards the middle 😭

John Dutton: John is a man of simple pleasures he isn't one for buying into the valentines day shit. So his gift to you is a day in bed with his head between your thighs. "Fuck daddy yes." You moaned your back arching off the bed as John's God send of a tongue worked you over for the umpteenth time that day. He looked up at you his face covered in your arousal kissing your thigh. "Happy valentines day Darlin'."

Lee Dutton: Lee's a passionate man he loves to make sure you know how much he fucking loves you. The day starts out with slow love making then throughout the day he follows you around the ranch like a lost puppy as John gave him the day off to spend with you. That night he takes you to some fancy ass restaurant. He wore a suit which was a rare site but it was like catnip to you. You're both lucky you made it back to the ranch before you pounced on his ass. "I think I need to wear a suit more often." He teased as you rode him nails scratching down his chest the bed creaking under you two. You gave him a look which made him chuckle before he buried his face in your tits.

Ryan: He had no idea what to do for you. He wanted your first valentines day to be special so he asked your father John what the fuck he should which John just smacked him in the back of the head and said "she's your woman figure it out yourself boy." So he took ya for a long horse back ride through the fields even though there was snow on the ground and you froze your tits off. Once you got back you both decided to 'warm up'. A loud banging was heard on her door as her father's voice drifted through the door. "Ryan for fucks sake do not get her pregnant."

Jaime Dutton: Jamie was working on his campaign on valentines day which pissed you off so what'd you do you went to his campaign office in a trench coat with nothing on underneath. You walked past Christina glaring her down as you walked towards Jamie's office opening the door even though Christina was saying he was busy. Jamie looked up seeing you come in he smiled you lock the door and un tied the trench coat letting it fall to the floor. "Now you can keep working or take me home and fuck me senseless." She said hands on her hips. Jamie's jaw dropped let's say he broke the speed limit to get you home.

Kayce Dutton: Kayce hated valentines day thinking it was a waste of time he loved you and showed you every day so he treated it like any other day which made you a little sad his father John had noticed and smacked some sense into Kayce a hard smack to the back of the head does wonders. You were sitting in yours and Kayce's room when he came in tail tucked between his legs. "Listen baby I'm sorry it's just another day to me." He said getting down on his knees as he pushed up your skirt he had many a ways to make it up to you most of it had to do with his face between your thighs.

Anthony Bridgerton: Anthony the dirty basatrd has the day planned out start to finish there's only one thing he wants and it's you naked in bed. He definitely got his way. You woke up to the feeling of someone sucking on your clit you had told Anthony he could wake you up like this as it was fun. You opened your eyes lifting the sheet and blankets to see Anthony's face buried deep between your thighs eating like a stared man. Hearing the blankets move he looked up mumbling a 'good my love happy valentines day.' Against your clit before going back to work.

Benedict Bridgerton: Benedict wasn't sure what he wanted to do but then an idea struck him. Painting you in the nude. He barely out the outline done on his canvas as you decided to tease him slipping your fingers between your thighs and playing with your clit making your back arching off the chaise lounge he had you laying on. The painting was very much forgotten very fast as your moans graced his ears.

Sebastian Vettel: Sebastian was in another country for valentines day as he had a meeting with his team but he made it up to you when he got home he barely made it through the door before bending you over the back of the couch and slamming into you.

Ayrton Senna: Ayrton being Brazilian was an amazing lover both in and out of the sheets. He had taken you to a small island so to not be disturbed as he worshiped your body. He mapped out your body with his tongue having you a moaning mess in seconds.

Alain Prost: Alain decided to get a nice bottle of wine and take you out to the French countryside. In a little cottage he got a couple years ago as a way to hide from the crazy fans. You two got into the bottle of wine and not a spot in that little cottage was not used as a spot to fuck the kitchen counter, the stairs, the bed, the bathroom, the living room there was not a spot that didn't see your naked sweaty bodies.

James Hunt: James oh boy James was excited any day he could spoil you extra without people giving him dirty looks he fucking loved. Today was no different he spoiled you beyond belief. The day ended in your favorite way on all fours with James pounding into you like a feral animal cigarette in his mouth as he fucked you.

Niki Lauda: After Niki's accident he'd become self conscious and hadn't really wanted to be intimate. You were dying to have your husband again. He got back from a meeting with Ferrari and you were waiting for him in a little lace set. He felt a tent form in his pants immediately. You got down on your knees unzipping his pants. "Baby I-" He cut himself off as he moaned from your mouth wrapping around him forgetting about everything else besides fucking you again.

Daniel Riccardo: Danny Ric loves a good laugh so he spends most of his day making you laugh and smile before he has you begging you to cum. "Please Danny please I've been a good girl." You moaned your ass in the air as he ploughed into you from behind. He smirked smacking your ass. "Yes you have but hold on a little longer." He said his thick long Australian fingers coming in contact eith your clit.

Kimi Raikkonen: Kimi although called the ice man is a man who loves and worships his girl. He is not one for holidays though so he treats it as any other day till that night where he'll take melted chocolate and drizzle it over your body licking you clean.

Toto Wolff: Toto is a man who loves to spend money epically on his woman. It's start out small a little gift in the morning and just get bugger and bigger till he probably bought whatever car you wanted and is now fucking you in said car. "Toto yesssss." You moaned as sat in the passenger seat in Toto's lap riding him. The car shaking ad his face was buried in your tits.

Mika Hakkinen: Mika being Finnish isn't one for showing a lot of emotion or talking a lot not unless it's you then he'll talk your ear off. He made sure the day was special his gift to you was finally agreeing to having a baby. "Yeah you want my babies don't you." He growled in your ear as he pounded into you.

Jenson Button: JB loves valentines day and goes all the way out there and I mean out there. Chocolates, flowers, jewelry you name it he gets it. His favorite thing is to fuck you with the new jewelry he bought you watching it shine in the light as he pounded into you.

Lance Stroll: Being a billionaire has its perks one of them is home being able to spoil you rotten whenever the fuck he wants and epically on valentines day. He bought you a new remote controlled vibrator and decides to use it during you fancy Italian dinner in Italy as he flew you guys out for the day. He turned up the the intensity making you squirm and roll your lips together as the vibrations got worse and worse trying to keep your body still as you looked right into hisneyes as you came.

Nico Rosberg: Nico took you to Monaco where he wined and dined you all night and made you feel like the most special woman in the world. The night carried on back at his place as he fucked you against the huge window that over looked the street people below having no idea you were getting railed. "You like this don't you having the chance someone will look up and see you getting fucked yeah you're so wet."

Oscar Piastri: Although he is a quiet man he sure does love to show you how mich he loves you and today is no different he decides to spend his day in between your thighs. "Are *moan* you gonna do this all day?" You asked while arching your back off the bed. Oscar only nodded continuing his work.

Lando Norris: Lando had a full day of being in bed having you in every position he can. He had you in the snail position going as fast as he can his curls a mess all over his forehead. He growled as he came deep inside you. "I hope you end up pregnant." He whispered in your ear before flipping you for doggy style.

Mark Webber: Mark wanted to spend the whole day between your thighs that's what he wanted for valentines day giving you aussie kisses 😉. He was merciless going at it for hours barely letting you calm down before he started up again the perfect gift for him.

Franco Colapinto: Franco was something else he woke you up giving you mate. The day went on and he gave you little gifts all day long. Till that night when he gave you the best gift he proposed so the night ended with you two tangled in your shared sheets him slamming his hips against yours making the most lewd noises he could knowing how much you love when he's vocal.

François Cevert: The Frenchman is a bit of a master of valentines day. The day starts with your favorite flowers and candies before he treats you to an amazing breakfast on bed which turns into slow love making as he whispers praises in your ear. As the day goes on he loves up on you a lot saying he just wants you to feel special on valentines day. Then once the sun sets he has you pinned down in bed the French doors open to let in a nice breeze from the south of France air as he slams his hips into yours in the most delicious way.

Lewis Hamilton: Lewis loves to leave hickies so that's how your day is spent him aucking your skin till it was deep purple pretty much with his marks he even hickied a LH44 down your spine as his hands kneeded your ass.

Carlos Sainz: *smooth operator plays softly in the background* Carlos made sure the day was extra special with pancakes in bed beautiful red roses and slow love making. Smooth operator played in the background as he timed his thrusts with the music. "Feel so good mi amor."

Charles Leclerc: Charles spent most of the day trying to make it perfect for you but like Ferrari's strategy it went out the window. So you two opted to just stay inside and enjoy each other and then welcomed your first child together that November.

Michael Schumacher: Michael was excited for valentines day with you this year why you ask cause he had the whole day planned for you two. He had bought you a matching set in red having you parade around the house in only that all day long before ripping it off you and fucking you dumb. "Yesss daddy right there." You said withering under Michael as he pounded into you he felt himself get harder when you called him daddy.

Jack Doohan: Jack was never much of a romantic never really having been in a relationship besides his ex gf but that was toxic relationship so nothing he did for valentines day was right so he went all out for you hoping he'd get at least one thing right. But your favorite gift was having him all to yourself for a day and getting to cuddle and then fuck till your little hearts content.

Fernando Alonso: Fernando was definitely a Spanish lover through and through your day was filled with sweet love making and amazing food. His favorite putting chocolate on your body and little cut up strawberries so he could lick and eat them off you.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs: Gibbs is very old fashioned so he bought you red roses and chocolates you two soent the evening in his basement building his boat. Since he had to work that day as always but he made sure he took a lunch break to have lunch with you. And once you both got more and more frisky he fucked you up against the boat.

Tim McGee: Tim wrote you a love letter and left it for you as he had to work. But once he got home his attention was all on you and making you feel good. His long fingers working you over time and time again till you were a blabbering mess.

Dwayne Pride: Dwayne kinda sucked at valentines day but he was trying just for you. He woke you up by covering you in kisses. He kissed every inch of your body like he was trying to mark it to memory so he could never forget you it lead to his face being buried between your thighs for hours.

Kevin Costner: Yours and Kevin's valentines day was spent with you in labor and giving birth to your first child and his 8th. You had started to lactate and while the baby was sleeping you became engorged and he decided to help you out. "Fuck thank you." You moaned as his lips sucked helping relieve some of the pressure in your tits his hips rutted against the bed as he tasted your milk.

Glen Powell: Glen loved to cook so he made you breakfast in bed before taking and making slow and sweet love to you before having to go to set to film.

Ian Bohen: Ian was in the middle of filming the next season of Yellowstone so you two had a little phone sex date instead of seeing each other rin person both finishing together over FaceTime.

Wes Bentley: Wes was a passionate man and loved to fuck you hard and slow epically on valentines day. He soent the day worshipping your body in every way he physically could.

Mike Dodds: Mike had to work most of the day so he didn't get home till late but he was in his dress blues which you loved and almost pounced on him as he walked into the house he handcuffed you as he pounded into you like a mad man.

Silco: Silco was not one for holidays that included valentines day he could careless but he will say he does love the fact that your wore something skimpy that day he watched you all day in a short little skirt and crop top wanting to just bend you over and fuck you so that's what he did he locked his office door and you were bent over having his cock shoved in you in seconds.

[heartofbusan]

Your post is thought provoking. Seems everyone is thinking about the after MS right now.

I want them to be happy first and foremost, and for them to do what they feel is best, only they can decide that.

I think if anyone is going to pave the way as far as idol life and dating goes, it’s BTS, though Blackpink have been fairly open of sorts so far. Someone’s got to change the playing field, BTS are in a strong position to do so, with such a huge international fan base especially. Honestly their home land be damned, the ridiculous double standards, homophobia and idol expectancy needs to change, something has to give. They are living in the dark ages in regards to that, so advanced in many other ways. Out with the old and in with the new. What’s that age old saying? Be the change you want to see in the world! It’s never going to change if people don’t stand up and try to make that happen, history has shown that time over. Movements and individuals alike.

I’m not just talking about Jikook here, but in general with all members.

They kept saying prior to enlistment there were things they couldn’t tell us before, that they will, that Jimin said he wants to do what he wants with no restriction, in his last live to Army. Who knows what any of it means, or if they will let us know.

The Yoongi thing is another example of how ridiculous their culture is (sorry not sorry, bc it is), and I hope that he comes back with his held high and finger raised!

For Jikook, all I would want for them is to have them be free to show how close they are. The horse has bolted in many ways since the enlistment and show on top, the show being a choice they made, and aired. They shouldn’t go back to ‘hiding’ so to speak in terms of their closeness, they should honest to god flaunt it.

time will tell I guess

I honestly think the international fanbase is a huge hurdle. Cultural differences mean that not only do they need to think about conforming to their own culture but others as well. I'm not naming names, but there are a couple of extremely active fans out there who belong to cultures that tend to dismiss LGBTQI issues outright and they are also the biggest y/n types you could ever find. These types of fans can also be found in SK, but the fact that BTS for being so widely known would have to juggle multiple cultures is another reason to NEVER make any public announcements. Once you enter 'dating' into the lexicon, it can never be unsaid.

I think what BTS want in regards to their careers just doesn't align with their private lives. And merging the two is best done in private, where the one doesn't become a topic of conversation inside the other. That's just my opinion, and I'll wait and see how far BTS themselves decide to take it.

I love a good metaphor, and 'the horse has bolted' is wonderful. Is it Scandinavian? Am I mistaken? Just sounds like something rugged and wild..a wild horse that became antsy and needed to run.. just like Jikook. Mane fluttering in the wind, never back to being restrained.

Oh, Anon, you reminded me that I STILL haven't dared to watch Jimin’s last live 😭😭😭 his palpable and conflicted emotions like fear, nerves, uncertainty, and vanity all came to the fore, and I absolutely commend him for owning it all. What a brave boy, I needed the 18 months to be so brave, too.. I might soon because, yes, a lot of us are counting down the days.

Thank you 💜💛