all i know is that top should never stop wearing them

Leather Shorts (NSFW)

Summary:  You were wearing leather. Tight black leather shorts with a black tank top equally tight, all paired with ankle boots and a choker, both also made of leather. Damn, you looked so hot.
Pairing:  Jaime Lannister x Reader
Other Characters:  Sansa Stark
Word Counting:  980 words
Warnings: Daddy kink, smut, spankings.
Kinktober 2017 –
18th day. Daddy | Leather | Masturbation  

Originally posted by brienneoftarth

Jaime hissed, taking a deep breath as you walked into the classroom and to the closest chair from his desk.

“Good morning, Mr Lannister.” You bend down to put your backpack, your eyes catching his eyes immediately.

You were wearing leather.

Tight black leather shorts with a black tank top equally tight, all paired with ankle boots and a choker, both also made of leather.

“How many animals you got killed for those clothes, Miss Y/L/N?” He questioned, trying to ignore the blood flowing directly to his cock.

Damn, you just looked so hot.

“It’s synthetic.” You corrected him, smirking. “But thanks for carrying about the animals.”

Jaime chuckled. He knew you well enough to know you would never wear any leather that wasn’t synthetic.

He was ready to sass you again but stopped when Sansa Stark sat by your side. As far as he knew, you were childhood best friends and you two were always together.

For an hour and a half, he restrained himself from staring at you too much, even though you attracted him like a honeypot. You seemed to be teasing him the whole time, caressing your own legs when he was looking, biting and licking your lips eye-fucking him hard.

When his torture – also known as the class – was over, you and Sansa gathered your stuff and were ready to leave when he cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you about the results of your last test.” He said casually. “Can you stay? This is really serious.”

Keep reading

TAURUS: lately life has felt like a carnival ride that you stumbled onto by accident and you don’t understand why everybody else is having such a good time. why everybody else has open-mouth smiles and bright eyes while you’re clutching your lap-bar praying for something to end. it won’t always be like this. the ground isn’t going to perpetually swing around you, stealing your balance and your ability to move as if your existence is something flimsy and disposable. this will all slow down eventually. please stay until then. the view from the top will be worth it.

GEMINI: you’ve taken every offhand remark to heart since the day you were born and your chest has become so heavy that it’s hard to breathe around all of that hurt. you know you don’t have to keep it all hidden, right? storage units exist for a reason: humans were never meant to bear all of their belongings. I know that your statuesque stance is one you’ve been practicing for centuries, but it’s okay to ask for help. nobody is going to be mad at you or think of you as weak for doing so.

CANCER: you’re holding something beautiful and this is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever done. because you’re so used to watching watching eggs roll off the countertop and kisses slip off of your cheek that everything worthwhile seems fleeting. fragile. forced. like the universe is playing a game to see how good you are at playing catch with crystal balls. but you’ve gotta believe in the potential of durability. if you’ve managed to exist for this long without giving up, you must believe in something, and it must be pretty special. don’t lose it now. not after all this time.

LEO: maybe it feels like the april showers will never stop pouring down on you. maybe you keep trying to fix new things with old instruction manuals and end up getting frustrated when the pictures don’t match what’s in front of you. maybe you’re starting to realize that not everything is going to work out the way you need it to and that scares you. it scares you because the last time this happened it almost killed you. but the key word here is almost. you’re more than the rubble you’ve had to sift through and the photographs you’ve had to throw out. you were never meant to burn out. you were designed to endure.

VIRGO: so, you ran away from home. you’re playing hooky from your life because every scenario you’ve found yourself in has ended in blood. and you’re sick of it. you never asked for any of this. but then again, has anyone? I can’t imagine how tiring it must be to build those walls around yourself every morning, before your coffee and your nicotine, before you think about the lover you left behind. have you ever visited the grand canyon? you should. it’s time you found some beauty in what’s below the surface. look at how easy it is to see the sky from here. but please don’t try to fly until you’ve looked down once or twice please.

LIBRA: you ran into the past while crossing the street and you didn’t stop to say hello. were you scared? or were you just waiting for what you abandoned to make the first move? either way, you didn’t say hello and that’s okay. you don’t have to feel shameful about the ugliness of your progress. not everybody’s carriage stays a carriage when the clock strikes midnight. that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real or valuable. you ran into the past while crossing the street and it didn’t hurt you. not this time. not you.

SCORPIO: everybody around you seems to be darting across the universe with their hearts on their sleeves and it makes you feel as though something is wrong with you. as if the molasses town your feet are submerged in is something that you asked for, that you wanted. you know, you don’t have to travel at the speed of light in order to get out of bed in the morning and that’s still something miraculous, especially when every part of you is begging to pull the covers over your eyes and dream a little longer. I’m proud of you for fighting that feeling. I know it’s hard. I know it’s hard.

SAGITTARIUS: I think that it’s time for you to start believing in fairy tales again. do you remember being smaller? looking for magic around every corner? that spark doesn’t leave once you outgrow the disney themed bedsheets and wear holes in the light-up sneakers. nobody needs you to be the grown-up all of the time, it’s okay to let yourself feel lighthearted again. go pick some daisies or buy some gelato. take care of yourself the way you would’ve before the world showed you its shadows.

CAPRICORN: the monsters under your bed have been keeping you awake for months but you don’t have the heart to drive them away. you’ve kinda liked the company. you’ve been throwing them scraps from the dinner table that you couldn’t finish and have taken pleasure in listening to what you couldn’t stomach be put to use. but, baby, you don’t have to be kind to the things that make you shudder in the night. you’re not obligated to give to the things that take and take and take until there’s nothing left. reclaim your bedroom. this, this is yours. it always will be.

AQUARIUS: sometimes you find yourself thinking about the cost of living. how much of yourself you’ve had to trade in order to stay alive. it’s really easy to get angry, when you see that other people have traded so much less and gotten so much more. but don’t let yourself get caught up in the what-if’s because that’s a maze that’ll never let you leave, no matter the strength of the compass you bring with you. forgive yourself for what you’ve had to do to survive. it doesn’t make sense to be ashamed of all you’ve gone through, when everyone else just wants to watch you succeed. we’re rooting for you.

PISCES: you’ve become an expert at mending the bridges that people have burned in your wake and I hope that you see the beauty in that. the talent it takes to reconstruct a pathway between two islands is immense and you’ve forgotten this in all of the excitement. you’ve accomplished great things in such a short time, and it’s breathtaking. truly. when you were born everybody in the room must’ve held their breath, because how could they not see what they were bringing into the world? sure, you’ve caused a few accidents. but you’re working to fix the damage. you’re trying. that’s enough.

ARIES: the clocks have all been telling you that you’re late for figuring yourself out. which is another way of saying that it feels as though time itself has been harassing you because you don’t know who you are yet. and hey, fuck ‘em. time is a construct: while you? you’re here. you’re breathing. you’re taking the alarms and setting them for 12pm because this is your life and you dictate what it’ll be filled with. don’t worry about the calendars or the deadlines. you’ll find yourself when you’re ready. take as many seconds as you need.

You Have No Idea

Originally posted by gryffinclaw-in-wilde-times

Peter Parker x Shy Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: Peter and the Reader go to school together, however once Peter shows up at Stark tower, the Reader is curious as to why he is there.

Word Count: 1,930

Warnings: language, fluff, adorableness, talk of powers, annoying Tony, shy reader (bc I’m trash). (Err, that’s it?)

A/N: To the anon that requested this, I hope you like it! I sort of changed it up a little bit, so I hope you don’t mind. The length of this, I apologize, holy shit. I could not find a way to end this. *Also, the Reader’s powers are based on the character Catiana (in case you are wondering!) Please let me know what you guys think of it, I’d love some feedback. Enjoy reading!


Walking into school, you held tightly to your backpack and moved swiftly through the crowd, avoiding an “accidental” bump in with anyone that came unexpectedly.

Since you had a few minutes before your first class, you went to your locker and replaced the books in your backpack with the ones you needed today for classes.

Rolling your eyes and groaning as you picked up your heavy Algebra book, you stuffed it roughly into your backpack.

It’s not that you hated math, it’s just you weren’t that great at it, which definitely bothered you since you were in a class full of legit geniuses.

Not only did that class give you anxiety with being called on or not understanding anything, but it was also because there was one nerd who always caught your attention. The one that should probably be in college level math rather than Algebra in some high school. The one who looked so soft and cuddly. The one with the never ending collection of sweaters.

The one named, Peter Parker.

Keep reading

... Somehow, Still Talking About This Captain America Shit (Now With Bonus Spider-Man and Agents of SHIELD)

So now Secret Empire has revealed its Shyamalan Twist and given the readers a Good Guy Steve Rogers as well as Hydra Cap, and the kinds of dickbags who, when this whole bullshit began were dismissing people’s complaints with “oh come on, don’t you know how comics works, it’s all going to be put back at the end, blah blah blah…” are crowing I-Told-You-So’s.

But here’s the thing:

Yeah, fucknuts.  We always knew this.

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

5

Strap in nerds because have i got a long post ahead for you

So me and @sassycsap​ (bless her soul. she’s like my first friend here) talked about the nyoom nyoom post with how Rich would totally cart Jake around in a wheel chair like madmen on a chariot race because Rich is a Fast Boy™ and somehow we accidentally gave birth to this beautiful thing called the *drum rooooolll*

BMC Incredibles AU

So here’s each of the Characters

  • Rich is Dash (super speed) u can’t argue with me. have u seen the nyoom nyoom post
  • Jake is violet (invisibility and force fields)
  • Michael is Frozone ya’ll (Ice powers)
  • Jeremy is Bob (Super strength)
  • Christine is Helen (Elastic Body) (because we’ve all universally accepted that she’s the Mom of the Gang)
  • Jenna is Jack-Jack (this guy has a lot of powers that I’m too lazy to type in)
  • Chloe is Edna (She makes the costumes!!!!)
  • Brooke is Mirage (That really pretty girl who’s a spy)(don’t worry, we we’re made her good)
  • Squip is Syndrome (Bad Guy™)

=(The HCs are under the Cut so I’ll spare u the mess)=

Keep reading

See Yeh Break

Harry X Reader: Smut

In which you become well acquainted with Harry’s thigh.

Request? Yes:

riding harrys leg on a balacony overlooking the aegean on a sunny july day

THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING THIGH RIDING PLEASE

Author’s note: The beginning turned all mushy? Idk what that’s about (Yes I do. It’s because I’m fucking whipped for mushy Harry.) but if the transition seems sudden, whooops. :)


This vacation is an absolute blessing. A week away from the madness and noise of fans and paps and meetings. From the moment the two of you arrived to your private little getaway on the coast, Harry’s been warm and relaxed, and you couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

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smile ✦ peter parker

summary : as the adopted daughter of none other than tony stark, you have a myriad of responsibilities. babysitting peter parker probably wasn’t supposed to be one of them. not that you’re complaining.

word count : 4.7k (also known as the longest thing I’ve ever written)

author’s note : ur adopted b/c not everyone is white and i don’t want anyone to feel excluded from reading this due to the fact tony is white (and yes ik there are interracial couples i just want everyone to feel included i want to make sure whoever wants to read this can without feeling weird about it b/c i know it is something that bothers people in the fanfic community okay bye enjoy my loves.)

   Tony Stark was a lot of things to a lot of people. He was the billionaire, he was the genius, the philanthropist, and the notorious playboy in his younger years. Most notably, however, was that he was Iron Man. He was marveled at by the entire world, him and the group of heroes that stood beside him; the Avengers, as they called themselves. To you, however, he was your father. 

   A terribly overprotective one, at that. 

  Of course, this was only to be expected of a father, even a foster one, but the lengths the man went to in order to keep his only daughter out of whatever he deemed trouble were rather extensive. You rarely ever left the Avengers tower, and if you did you were accompanied by a team of people you could only describe as rip off Secret Service men. Sometimes, Natasha would replace them, or Steve, but that was a rare occurrence. You were homeschooled by the best tutors his money could pay for- this particular move was less about refining your education and more about keeping you away from any boy in the five boroughs. 

   You chose to spend majority of your time reading in your room and training, always wary of anyone who approached you about being a friend. Your surname meant everything to people, especially the girls that wandered around Manhattan desperate to become the bestie of the daughter of the richest man in New York. You loved your dad with all your heart, but the stigma that ran with the Stark name would never stop irritating you. 

   That, and the impromptu plans he threw at you on a regular basis. 

   “Miss Stark, your father is requesting access to your room. He knows you hate it when he barges in.” Vision drifted into your room without warning, making you jump. You yanked your earbuds out of your ears, giving him a look. 

   “I hate when anyone barges in, Vision. That includes you, too.” You pushed your chair away from your desk, placing your pen on the desk and shutting your notebook. “Tell him he can come in if he lets me become an Avenger.” You raised your voice at this, knowing he would hear you. 

   “He says that he’ll consider it if you let him in.” 

   You raised your eyebrows. “Touché.” You motioned for the door to open, and your father walked into the room, immediately taking his pristinely polished shoes off and lying down on your bed. You stared at him.“Dad, it’s not cool to wear sunglasses inside. You look lame.” 

   Tony Stark rolled his eyes at you. “It’s called a look, sweetheart.” You laughed, pretending to nod in agreement. He placed his hands behind his head as you spun your chair back around to your desk. “What are you working on?” 

   “Something for Bruce,” you muttered, pen cap between your teeth as you continued to jot down important points from his numerous lab reports. You were going to have to hand in a full analysis of his findings for your end of term science paper, and he was more than willing to aid you. “Science report.” 

   “My daughter, beautiful and intelligent, my flesh and blood,” Tony declared proudly. 

   “Dad, I love you to the death, but I’m still not your biological kid,” you smiled all the same, though, and he knew behind the tough exterior you were happy to hear his expressions of admiration. 

    “Who needs a biological kid when I’ve got this great, wonderful adopted one right in front of me.” 

   Not looking up from your notebook, you said, “You’re really laying it on thick today. I’m all of those things, obviously, but I know you want something. So, what is it?” You paused, then said, “Thank you, by the way.” 

   “You sure we’re not related?” He sat back up, clasping his hands together. “What do you say about Germany?” 

   “Nice enough place I guess, interesting history, why?” 

   “I kind of need you to go there for two weeks with me.” 

   With a groan, you dropped your pen and held your face in your hands. “Another surprise trip? Dad, I have school. I have homework! Do you see this?” You held up the thick stack of reports from Banner’s lab, waving them around. “This is gonna be, like, my life’s work.” 

   Tony shook his head. “Kids these days and their homework. Seriously. When I was at school I would have taken any opportunity to shirk my responsibilities.” 

  “You did do that.”

    He waved his hand. “Technicalities. Anyway, as you know the Avengers have been disassembled. Sokovia Accords and all that bullshit. I assume you’ve been keeping up?” 

   “Hard not to.” It was true. Anything in the news was about the great split of the infamous team, Captain America vs Iron Man. It was impossible to turn on the television without hearing about it. And, considering you lived underneath the same roof as half of them, it was quite literally not an option to be ignorant to what was going on. 

   “Good,” he grinned proudly again. If there was one emotion that the man felt whenever he was around, it was proud. Nearly everything you did made him beam with pride, and if you had been placed into an actual high school, there was no doubt in his mind that the person at the top of every single class would be you. You excelled no matter the circumstances. “So, to sum up, there’s gonna be a big showdown in Germany. Western style, naturally. Guns blazing and everything.” 

   Your eyes lit up and you nearly flew out of your chair, rushing over to him. “Oh my god, are you finally gonna let me fight? You’ve seen my training, right? I’m getting so good. I’m like, practically Natasha level good. She’s been showing me that move where I can snap people’s necks with my thighs and-” 

   “First of all, your thighs are not going around anyone’s neck, so jot that down,” he interrupted. Your enthusiasm visibly deflated. “I need you to kind of watch over this kid who’s coming with us. He’s from Queens. You love Queens.” 

   “You’re making me babysit?” You flopped down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. “C’mon, dad, I’m sixteen. That’s practically an adult. I think I should be allowed to fight this time. I’m Avenger worthy.” 

   “Practically an adult is not the same as literally an adult, as in over eighteen.” You groaned again. “Don’t call it babysitting, anyway. He’s your age. Well, he’s a few months younger, but that doesn’t matter. Just call it… hanging out with a good kid that’s fighting for your dear old dad and making sure he doesn’t get into trouble in Germany or annoy Happy too much.” He patted your knee, standing up. “We leave in the morning, kiddo, so pack up.” 

   “How come he gets to fight if he’s younger than I am?” 

   “’Cause he’s not my daughter. Goodnight, light of my life.” He kissed your forehead before leaving, giving you another encouraging smile.

   “Goodnight, pain my ass,” you grumbled as he left. He popped back in, a stern expression on his face. “If I watch your new protégée can I become an Avenger?” Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes. Teenage girls were exhausting. 

   “We’ll talk about it.”


   You’re sitting at your breakfast table with suitcases piled next to you when Peter Parker strolls into your life with happiness in his every footstep because he is just so, so glad to be there. You’re spooning cereal into your mouth when he sits down directly across from you, a video camera cupped in his soft looking hands and the little red button clicked on, meaning that he is recording you. You place your spoon back into the bowl of milk that is dusted with cinnamon sugar from the Cinnamon Toast Crunch you’ve been eating for the past ten minutes. 

   “Do you mind?” 

   “Mind what?” He asked, peeking up from behind his camera. You gestured toward it, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. 

   “The camera. I’m kind of still in the middle of eating breakfast in my pajamas,” you leaned forward, switching it off. “You must be the Spider-Boy.” The chestnut haired boy feels a blush creeping up his neck and settling along his cheekbones when you say that. 

   “Oh, did Mr. Stark tell you that?” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “Um, it’s Spider-Man, actually.” He mumbled the man part, knowing fully well that he didn’t look like much of a man in the eyes of anyone, his eyes casting down as he fidgeted with the strap on his camera. 

   “Oh good,” you nodded. You took another spoonful of cereal. “I like that better. Nicer ring to it.” You grabbed your box of sugary breakfast and pushed it toward him, an offering. 

   “Huh?” He was a bit dazed. He stared at the box in front of him and then realized he had been doing that for far too long of a time to be considered normal. “Oh, right, um, sure, thanks!” He opened the box and took a handful, shoving it in his mouth. You kept eating your cereal, silently staring at the bowl and willing yourself not to laugh at the boy in front of you. With all his nerves, he was still a bundle of energy and cheerfulness, and, well, let’s face it, he was sort of adorable. “So, you think my name’s cool?” He tried to sound suave, charming, as he said it, tried to smirk at you, but he stopped when he realized that he looked stupid.

   You gave him a half smile. “It’s pretty good.” His face positively lit up with happiness to be taken seriously, and you knew the feeling too well. You stuck out your hand. “Oh, forgot to introduce myself-” 

  “Y/N Stark, adopted daughter of Mr. Stark, probably the smartest girl in all of New York and, uh, correct if I’m wrong but… Black Widow’s best student as well as Bruce Banner’s apprentice.” 

   You gaped at him. The blush he had been sporting crept up to his ears and made his nose turn the shade of a strawberry. “Well, uh, yeah,” you said, flustered. “Should I creeped out or flattered?” 

   “Flattered, please.” The genuine worry in his eyes as he leaned forward made you laugh. He had an endearing personality. 

   “Flattered it is.” You watched the slow sigh of relief leave his mouth, his hands flying up the mess of hair atop his head and fixing it distractedly. Your dad walked into the room, and Peter practically fell out of his chair trying to stand up and seem presentable. Your slouch was indicative that you didn’t care much. He was just your dad. “Morning, pops,” you slid the box over his way.  

   He frowned at it.” Y/N, that stuff is crap. I don’t know why you eat it.” 

   “Wanda and I like it,” you said defensively, a slip of the tongue. You knew your dad was going to get annoyed at the mention of the Scarlet Witch, who had evaded and ignored his attempts at keeping her powers under control. “It’s good. High quality. Right, Peter?” You whipped your head toward him. 

   He felt his heart give a little tug. He grabbed the box out of your hand and shoved more cereal in his mouth, the cinnamon sugar sticking to his lips. “Yeah, Mr. Stark. Best stuff ever,” he said through a mouthful of it. Tony gave them an amused glance, picking up your two heaviest suitcases and beckoning you both to the landing strip. Peter swallowed his food. 

   He didn’t even like Cinnamon Toast Crunch that much. He was just thrilled that you knew his real name.


   Everything about this kid was infuriatingly dorky in the cutest way possible. You came to this conclusion as you boarded the jet with ease, sitting in your usual spot by the window and greeting Happy with your typical friendly smile and idle chitchat. Peter stumbled onto it with awe written across his features as he stared around the place, touching nearly everything much to Happy’s dismay. 

   “Haven’t you been on a plane before?” The man asked, growing irritated with the way the kid was filming everything. You saw Peter zoom in on Happy’s face and grinned out your window. 

   “Nope, never!” Peter exclaimed, his video camera still in front of him as he captured every detail of his trip. 

   “Well, sit down so we can take off,” Happy said gruffly, grabbing Peter’s shoulders and forcefully placing him into a seat. 

  Peter sat still for a moment, then hopped over to the seat next to you. He placed his camera in front of him on the tray table. “Y/N, smile for the camera. I’m recording.” You looked at him, then turned to the camera and gave it a deadpan stare. You even threw in a slow blink. “Good enough,” he shrugged. He kept it recording as he shifted in his seat so that his entire body was facing you, his chin resting in his hand and his elbow on your armrest. His gaze was sort of nice. “So, Miss Stark, I have a few questions.” 

   “Um, okay, shoot,” you closed your book that you had open on your lap. “I’m not that interesting, just so you know.” 

  “I think you’re interesting,” he assured you. You heard Happy let out a choked laugh at Peter’s flirting attempt, but it was just another thing you found sort of lovely. It was a genuine compliment. “What’s your favorite subject in school?”

   You’d been expecting the typical what’s it like being Tony’s daughter spiel, and you were pleased to get an actual question about yourself for once. “I like everything, I guess. I kind of love school, but I don’t go to a conventional school, so. Training is cool, I like that a lot.” 

   “You train with Black Widow, I have to ask- can you show me some moves? I need to refine my technique before the fight,” he explained.  

    “Do you wanna learn how to crush people with your thighs?”

   “Wow! Do you think I could? Could you teach me? That’s so cool,” he beamed, turning to the camera for a split second with an overexcited look. 

   You pursed your lips, staring out your window for a minute. You were up in the air by now, and there was long flight ahead of you. “Maybe. If my dad is okay with it. I have to check.” Peter looked confused, 

   “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

   “He’s, you know, really overprotective.” You put your first against the cheek, leaning the same way that Peter was. You sighed. “I don’t have a lot of friends. Which is fine, but I can’t even attempt to go make any because I have a whole freaking SWAT team on my ass the minute I step out of the tower because he’s so worried about my safety.” You let your head hit the window, your eyes rolling skyward. “And that makes no sense because-” 

   “You’re really strong and stuff. You can protect yourself,” Peter finished. 

    “I think you know me a little too well, Peter,” you said, poking him lightly in the arm. “But… yeah, exactly. I don’t really get to do anything fun. I don’t have adventures. Sure, reading is fun and studying is fun for me and training is great and I love hanging out with everyone in the tower but I’m still a teenager. No fun for me, though. My life is pretty boring, sorry if that makes your little video diary suck.” You stuck your tongue out at his camera.  

   “No worries,” he said, taking it off the tray table and turning it toward you. “Tell me every boring detail, Miss Stark.” 

   “As long as you stop calling me Miss Stark.” 

   “You’ve got a deal.” 

   It was a seven hour trip, and you both passed out by the three hour mark after Peter had pried every excruciating detail from your life out of you. You hated sleeping on airplanes, but your head was slumped against his shoulder and his arm was knocking against your own and his sweatshirt was as soft as pillow. You remembered the shy glance he had given you just before you knocked out on his shoulder for the remainder of the flight. He had a sweet smile. 


    Peter filmed absolutely everything. He filmed himself getting off the plane and then filmed you getting off the plane and nearly shoved the camera in Happy’s face until he threatened to break it and Peter backed off. He radiated enthusiasm. “Look at this, and this, and this, oh shit wow that’s so cool look at this! Oh man this is good stuff!”

   “Peter this is literally just the airport how am I supposed to take you around the actual city?!”

   “OH WOW Y/N have you seen this!” 

    “Yes, Peter!” 

     He zoomed in on your face, your devoid of emotion look appearing again. “Are you ever gonna smile for the camera?” He gave you a pout, doe eyes and all. You turned away. 

   “No. I’m supposed to be babysitting you, please be behave.” You touched your fingers to the bridge of your nose, dragging Peter to a couch. “Please sit. We’re getting the hotel reservations checked.” 

   “Do they juice boxes? I’m really thirsty.” He was just trying to make you laugh at this point, and annoying you was kind of funny for him. You let out an involuntary chuckle when he pretended to claw at his throat, throwing himself on the ground. 

   “I’ll make sure they have juice boxes for you, Petey. You’re such a seven year old, geez.” You pretended to gag. 

   Looking offended, Peter replied, “I’m actually twelve.” 

   Jokingly, you said, “You’re a twelve year old that’s going to get a punch in the face if you don’t settle down right now.” He stood up, directly in front of you with his light eyes and little grin, another feverish looking heat burning at his face. Nevertheless, he still said, “It’d be an honor to get beaten up by you.” 

  His voice, the sincerity he carried within it despite the ludicrous statement, made you feel those famed butterflies fluttering inside you. Maybe it was the way he looked into your eyes as he said it. Maybe it wasn’t. But something within you was starting to like Peter Parker, and you’d barely known him for twenty four hours. 

   Then again, it was hard to not like Peter. The kid was just so damn likable. 


   He had known it from the moment he first set his eyes upon you that day in the tower that he was a goner. If he had known it then, just from sitting down across from you with nothing to him but his lanky figure and a suit that resembled a onesie more than it did a costume fit for a hero such as he, he was sure of it now, a week and a half later. 

   Every day had been the same routine. He’d be up bright and early in the morning so you could help with him his training, teaching him how to utilize the suit your father had given him with ease rather than his usual tactic of jumping into everything blind. You’d been the one to help come up with nearly all of the web shooter combinations. He didn’t know all of them yet, or close to half of them, but he was progressing wonderfully. 

   After training, you’d give him the tour of your favorite places around Germany, close enough to where you’d both be able to get back to the hotel before dark. He filmed the both of you constantly, but you shied away from the cameras every time without fail. He couldn’t understand why, but he didn’t push. He just liked filming in general, and would accept you not smiling in any of his clips as long as you were still in there. 

   There was a beautiful sense of normalcy that came with hanging around Peter. You reveled in it. No one had ever made you laugh so hard with his ridiculous attempts at jokes or made you smile so much at his shy flirting skills that clearly needed to be revisited. 

   It was okay. You didn’t mind. And the fact that you didn’t tease him for it made him so, so happy. 

   Then, came the day of the fight. Peter had his camera out, he was dressed in his spidey suit, and you were standing there next to him dictating who he should and shouldn’t go after. 

   “Don’t go after Wanda ‘cause she could obliterate you in two seconds and Cap could crush you, too, but he won’t ‘cause he’s really nice like that. Bucky won’t care as much, though, so don’t do that- Ant-Man seems pretty cool and harmless but I don’t have as much intel on him and Peter if you get hurt you have to go hide somewhere-” 

   “I’m not gonna get hurt,” he said confidently. 

   You ignored him. “I’m gonna be in your earpiece, figuratively speaking, so I’ll hear everything you do and if you talk I’ll be able to hear you and you can hear me. So, just… keep me updated.” Peter took off his mask for a second, hair sticking up everywhere from the static. You leaned up, smoothing it back into place. Everything about him was soft. You wanted to curl up in it and stay there for as long as you could. 

   “I’ll be fine, Y/N, don’t worry,” Peter placed his hand on your shoulder. You felt your face heat up. 

   “I- I’m not worried.” You totally were. “I know you’ll be fine.” You didn’t want him getting hurt. “I just want you to be careful.” You didn’t want him to fight. 

   You could’ve sworn his face fell a  bit when you said you weren’t worried, but he squeezed your shoulder anyway. Without a moment’s hesitation, you threw your arms around him, your nose pressing against his neck as you took a deep breath. He stood there for a second without doing anything until he realized that if he didn’t hug you back, he’d be the dumbest person on the face of the Earth. You felt his surprisingly defined arms hug you back. 

   You didn’t look at him when you pulled away. You stared at the spider emblazoned on his chest, gave him a quick good luck, then departed from the room. You sat on your own hotel bed with a rapidly beating heart.

    The nerves were killing you. Ten more minutes. You opened your laptop and pulled up the system that would allow you to communicate across Team Stark. You were more focused on your dad and Peter. You tapped into your dad’s earpiece after placing the headset on. “Dad?” You spoke into the microphone. 

   “Hey, kiddo, everything okay?” 

   “Y-Yeah I just-” you took another breath. “Be safe. I love you.” 

   “I love you too, Y/N. Are you sure everything is okay over there?” 

   “Can you just make sure Peter gets out okay? If he gets hurt, bring him right back, please. That’s it.” Maybe it was a stupid request in someone else’s eyes, but you needed Peter to make it back in one piece. Tony Stark looked over at Peter Parker, crouching in his hiding spot and fumbling around with the gloves of his suit and gave the kid a knowing smile. Of course that was the one his  daughter fell for in the end. Perfectly fitting. 

   “I’ll make sure.” You knew your father couldn’t see the grateful smile on your face, the sigh of relief that fell past your lips when he spoke these words.

   Peter Parker, I swear if you make it out of this, I will smile like an idiot in every single one of your stupidly adorable video diary things. I swear. Just be safe.


 “Your black eye is awful,” you told him, dabbing at it with more cream. “Totally ruins your face.”

   “I think I look manly.” 

   “You think incorrectly.” You stepped back, your fingertips tilting his chin up so you could examine it further. “I think I got the worst of it. You did really well, Peter. Exceptionally well.” His face was glowing from your compliment. 

   “Can I get on that tape?” He asked excitedly, ducking under his hotel bed for his camera. You nodded, and he switched the camera on. He held out his arm so that you were both in frame. And you smiled. He forgot all about what you were supposed to say the moment that beautiful smile appeared there. “I- wow, Y/N.” 

   “What?’ 

    His stare was kind as it usually was. “You just-” he paused. “Your smile is really, really beautiful.” There was no way for you to turn away from the camera this time and you were left grinning like a lovestruck idiot at the boy in front of you, leaning up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

  “Thank you.” 

  You slept the entire plane ride the way you had the last time, curled up against Peter. This time, it was intentional. One of your arms was flung across his waist and his was wrapped around your shoulders, the sweatshirt he had came in now swaddling you cozily. There were two separate cars waiting for you. You stood in between them when the flight got off, the sleeves of his sweater hanging off your hands as you reached out to grab his. He felt you push a piece of paper into his hand. “You better call me, Peter Parker. I’ll be really upset if you don’t.” 

   He wrapped you suddenly in an embrace that lifted you off your feet just a little bit, his lips pressing against your temple. “I’ll call you every day.” 


   He kept true to his word. Every day without fail, your phone rang with a call from Peter, and you fell asleep on the phone with him more often than not. If you weren’t on the phone with him, you were texting him, and if you weren’t doing that, you wished that you were. The consistent communication was better than nothing, but regardless, you missed his presence. You missed the way you felt walking next to him as he explained why chocolate ice cream was so clearly better than vanilla. You just missed him. 

   “Peter?” You held the phone to your ear, nestled in your blankets already even though it was barely nine o'clock. His sleepy voice mumbled out a yes? “Would it be stupid if I said that I missed you?” 

  She could practically hear his wide smile through the phone. “Of course not. I miss you, too. So much. Probably more than you miss me.” 

   “That’s so not true!” She scoffed. 

    “Wanna bet?” His tone was mischievous, no longer the hoarse, pretty voice of a boy just waking up from his nap. “Open your bedroom door.” 

    “Are you joking?” 

    You hung up the phone, throwing back your covers and not caring one bit that your hair was a dripping mess from your shower or that you were wearing  a terrible set of hello kitty pajamas that weren’t meant for anyone over the age of ten based on the size of the top. You nearly tackled him to the ground when you saw him standing in your doorway, a happy squeal escaping your lips. You were surprised he even got in, considering your dad wasn’t home, but you figured Vision had let him in. Vision always had a way of knowing. 

   “Have I ever told you that you have a really pretty smile?” Peter’s lips hovered over yours, almost hesitant. You took the initiative to kiss first, your hands delving into his silk-like hair. There was no point in waiting anymore. Your noses bumped together clumsily when he tilted his head back, admiring. You could feel your whole being light up when he gazed at you the way that he did, in that admiring, careful, Peter way of his. 

   “Careful, Spidey,” You warned, hands on his chest as you stared right back up at him. 

   “Careful of what?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

   “You’re going to make me fall in love with you one of these days if you keep looking at me like that.” It was only the truth, and you were a honest person.

   “That’s sort of the plan,” he shrugged in a seemingly careless way, but he couldn’t hide it. He was an open book. An open book who loved you, and the way that you smiled at him when he pulled back his sleeve to reveal a web shooter, a strange glint in those brown eyes of his as he said, “You up for an adventure?” 

Peter Parker (Tom Holland) Imagine: Savior

Summary: Peter saves you when Flash begins to get a little bit too handsy

Requested: Yes
–> “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” And “You can’t leave without letting me hug you first.” combined into one with Peter Parker please? Btw I love your writing!

A/N: fucking pissed cause tumblr deleted all of this and so now I’m writing it again

Warnings: none

————————————————

To say that Peter Parker had a crush on you was a complete understatement. The boy was head over heels in love with you. He thought he had it bad with Liz, but with you it was a whole other level. In fact, his infatuation with you was the sole reason he dragged Ned to this party with him.

Peter had over heard some fellow classmates talking in the hallway about how Flash was planning on asking you out tonight. And Peter simply couldn’t just stand by and let that happen.

His soft brown eyes scanned over the crowds of people hoping to find the one angel that stood out above all of them, but to his dismay all he saw were strangers.

Apparently Flash has many friends from other schools cause Peter only knew a handful of the kids that he could see.

“Do you see her anywhere, Ned?”

“No. Maybe we should split up. Cover more ground, you know?”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Ned headed off in one direction, and Peter in the other. Peter wondered off through the different crowds of people searching for the girl of his dreams.

He said a few hellos to some people he knew from the robotics club, the school band and the academic decathlon team.

He was just about to give up on finding you when he suddenly heard the beautiful sound of your laugh.

Peter jerked his head around and saw you leaning against a wall surrounded by a group of your friends, one of them which was obviously telling a funny story.

Peter admired the way your soft curls perfectly framed your face and how the crop top and high waisted jeans you were wearing hugged your body in all the best ways.

Peter felt his heart begin to beat rapidly when his eyes connected with yours from across the room. You gave him a soft smile and a small wave and Peter is still not quite sure how his brain got the message to the rest of his body to return the gesture.

But the beautiful moment was quickly cut short by Flash pushing through the wall of your friends and placing an arm above your head.

Peter didn’t have to be near to know what Flash was saying when he saw his mouth begin to move. He knew he was asking you out.

Peter heard his heart pounding in his ears as he watched the horrific scene unfold before him. It wasn’t until he saw you flip Flash off that he was able to breathe again.

But soon the relief disappeared once again as he watch Flash grab your wrist and pull you into his chest. Peter realized all your friends had scattered once Flash walked up and there was no one to come to your rescue.

Now, Peter knew you were a tough girl that could fend for herself, but he also knew how relentless Flash could be. And the thought of anything happening to you was enough to send him across the room in a matter of seconds until he was standing between you and Flash.

Peter felt your fingers grip the back of his shirt and it was the fear in them that caused the sanity in his brain to blur. Peter no longer cared if he used his Spidey strength to harm the ass hole that threatened the girl he loved.

Peter sent Flash flying across the room into a glass door that lead into his backyard.

Peter felt the eyes of everyone at the party on him. He knew everyone was wondering how the scrawny kid from gym class that could barely do a pull up managed to send a man flying across the room.

Peter was about to panic when he heard your soft voice pull him back to reality.

“Peter? Can we please get out of here?”

There was no hesitation. Peter had grabbed your hand and was leading you out of the house.

Once you two had safely exited, Peter began to lead you down the street.

“Where are we headed?”

“I-I can’t go home. Not like this.”

It was then that Peter saw the tears in your eyes which only angered him more. He pulled you into his side and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“We can go back to my apartment. It isn’t far, and May won’t mind if you stay over.”

Peter felt the girl nod and began to lead her in the direction of his home.

The two fell into a comfortable silence until you finally spoke up.

“Please don’t think I’m a baby for crying… I’m used to guys hitting on me and I’ve gotten quite good at shutting them down. I’m just not used to them beginning to get physical with me and it freighted me. Thank you, Peter, for saving me.”

The fear in the your voice when you spoke of Flash’s actions was almost enough to send Peter back into the house to end the bully for good.

“I’ll always protect you, Y/N. No matter what.”

Peter was too focused on getting the two home safely to notice the smile that crossed your face, but he did notice the way your small fingers gripped his shirt tighter.

After a short while of walking, you and Peter had finally reached his apartment.

Peter lead you quietly into his room, careful not to wake his aunt up.

Although he knew May wouldn’t mind the girl staying over, he also knew she would never stop teasing him about having a girl sleep in his room. Especially one as pretty as you.

Peter opened up one of his drawers and pulled out some clothes for you to change into.

“Here you go. I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take the be-”

“No! I um… sorry. Can you, um, sleep in here? With me?”

Peter didn’t think he’d ever hear such beautiful words leave someone’s mouth.

Peter nodded his head and turned around to give you privacy to change. He stared at his poster of the periodic table until he heard you clear your voice, signaling to him that he could turn around.

Peter felt his cheeks grow red as he looked over your attire.

His t-shirt hung loosely off your body and his sweatpants were bunched up at the bottom due to him being a few inches taller than you. You looked completely adorable.

You shifter your eyes to the floor under his intense gaze.

“Do I look bad or something?”

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.“

A smile grew across your face as Peter crossed the room and took your hand in his to lead you to his small twin sized bed.

Peter laid down on his back and pulled you to lay on top of him. You laid your head on his chest and Peter began to run his fingers through your hair.

The soothing gesture and the sound of his heart beat was enough to send you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

—The Next Morning—

You were pulled from your dreaming state as the sunlight crept in through Peter’s window.

You lifted your head up and couldn’t help but smile at how adorable Peter looked as he slept.

His brown curls were scattered in different directions. His soft pink lips were slightly parted and a soft blush was spread across his cheeks.

You reached your hand up to push a loose curl out of his face and Peter’s eyes began to flutter open at the soft touch.

A smile spread across his face as he leaned into your touch.

"Good morning, sleepy head.” You whispered.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Peter replied in his husky morning voice.

His eyes widened as he realized what he said but the soft giggle that escaped your lips calmed him in a matter of seconds.

“I should go. My parents are probably worried sick.”

Peter frowned at the loss of warmth as your body left his.

He watched as you picked up your clothes from the floor. You turned and gave him one last smile before your hand reach out to grab the door handle but his voice stopped you from opening it.

“You can’t leave without letting me hug you first.”

You bit your lip and turned around to see Peter already standing behind you smirking.

“I can do you one better.”

Confusion crossed his face as you gripped the front of his shirt and pulled his lips into yours.

The kiss lasted a few short seconds but they were the best seconds of his life.

Peter watched you walk out of his apartment with a goofy, lovestruck grin on his face.

He had finally got the girl of his dreams.

wistfulstudys  asked:

How do roundhouse kicks work? Are they actually combat efficient?

The roundhouse kick is a common kick seen in street fights, and for this reason lots of counters have been developed for it. So, it does work, it is effective, and easy to do compared to other kicks. It’s powerful (though not as powerful as the sidekick or back kick), but is the riskiest because it’s easy to trap.

Of the four beginning kicks, the roundhouse is the only kick that comes across the body. The others all strike directly. The roundhouse targets the side of the body or enemies in the fighting stance. This is part of what makes the roundhouse more visible than the other kicks. Your peripheral vision is great for noticing motion coming in on the edge of your vision, and circles are eye-catching. The roundhouse kick is an arc. Like all kicks, it’s one big body movement coming at you in flashing neon lights.

As a general rule, kicks are always riskier than punches. They’re reliant on speed and balance, and they come with obvious tells. Still, kicks are much more powerful than a punch, delivering more force at high speeds directly into the body. After all, with more risks come more rewards.

A single well placed kick can end a fight before it begins… if you can land it.

As for whether the roundhouse is combat efficient, that really depends on the individual and how limber they are. Cold kicks will punish you, pull your hamstrings, and wreck your legs if you’re not stretching on the regular. Your success with using kicks in combat is almost entirely dependent on your flexibility. When jumping into straight into a fight, you don’t get a time out for a five to ten minute warm up.

With that covered, let’s get down to the basics for the roundhouse.

The roundhouse is the second kick you’ll learn in most martial arts systems, after the front kick and before the sidekick. It relies on the rotational power of the hips to bring the leg across the body, striking with either the top or the ball of the foot. The attack comes on a diagonal, with points at either the head, stomach/ribs, or (in some variation) the legs/upper thigh. The structure of the roundhouse is as follows:

1) Beginning Stance:

Unlike the front kick which can be done from any forward facing, standing position, the roundhouse requires you be in a fighting stance.

A stance is a basic part of martial arts, but usually skipped over by Hollywood and beginners for strikes. Strikes are the big flashy moves that get attention because they are flashy. As with everything, the building blocks are often skipped.

Stances are what we call your “base” or how you set your body and your feet. Most martial arts disciplines will have a full set of stances from the front stance to the horse stance, and they will be referred to by different names. The fighting stance is easily recognizable. As it is the stance you’ll see everyone drop into on or off screen when they’re getting ready to fight.

The fighting stance is meant for basic defensive positioning, allowing you to move quickly. In Taekwondo, the fighting stance is one foot forward and the other foot is a step behind (about the width of your shoulders) on a diagonal. The back foot twists sideways roughly to a 45 degree angle, the front foot points forward. Your upper body turns on a diagonal following your back foot. Your hands clench to fists, and rise to your face. The hand over the front foot extends out, the other hand hovers beside your cheek. Your elbows come in, just inside the silhouette of your body. Your knees bend. Weight will adjust in a tilt slightly forward or slightly back depending on attack vector. The bouncing seen in sparring tournaments or boxing is meant to cover these weight shifts. In the fighting stance, you should never stand flat footed.

This is the basic protective stance for sparring.

Body Reader Note: Elbow, hand, upper body, and feet placement are all dead giveaways when someone doesn’t know what they’re doing. Failure begins with your feet. The hands especially, most beginners do not keep their hands far enough apart, their elbows come out too far from the body. Beginners will often leave the front foot flat on the ground with their weight unbalanced, slowing their reaction time.

On Weight Shifts: Leaning back generally means a kick as the upper body tilts backward for balance when the leg extends. Forward for hands. Settled on the back leg can also be a defensive posture, versus weight forward which is more aggressive. You want to be on the balls of your feet because that means quicker response times.

2) Chamber

The chamber is the intermediary step between the fighting stance and the kick. This is when you lift your leg off the ground with knee bent. The transition between chamber and kick is where most of the classic mistakes happen. You chamber with either the front or back leg. For the roundhouse kick, the foot left on the ground twists on a ninety degree angle. Your foot to your body should form a perfect right angle. (This is why the roundhouse kick is easy, you only shift another forty-five degrees rather than the full 180 for the sidekick.) The knee is on a similar forty-five degree, ready to extend across the body.

The upper body doesn’t move that much with the roundhouse, unlike the sidekick where the whole upper body tilts onto a forty-five as the leg extends. It tilts ever so slightly to retain balance as you kick and your hips twist.

3) The Kick

As I said before, the roundhouse strikes horizontally or diagonally across the body. It is true to its name. It comes around in a circular motion. The leg extends and swings across/through the opponent’s body as the hips simultaneously twist. When done in a simultaneous motion, the supporting foot twists to a ninety degree angle at the same moment the hips turn over. The upper body tilts with the hips. The leg swings through.

If the hips don’t turn over, then the kick is what we call a “snap kick”. In the case of the roundhouse, this is a kick than snaps up off the knee on a forty-five degree diagonal. It is fast but without power, and usually performed with the front leg only.

Power comes from the hips. You can lay in as much speed as you like, but without turnover there’s no power. (Snap kicks find their best use as openers in point sparring.)

The second problem with most kicks is visualization. You don’t stop when you reach the enemy, you kick through them. This carries the impact and force further.

The roundhouse strikes with either the top of the foot or the ball of the foot. Ball of the foot requires you pull your toes back, or else you’ll break them. Top is the speed kick (light, fast), ball is the power kick (can break ribs). Top of the foot is generally only seen in sparring exercises when your feet are protected by pads, but it’s a good option when you’re wearing shoes and your toes can’t bend.

4) Recoil

This is the return to the chamber. After extension finishes, the leg snaps back out of danger. If your opponent doesn’t catch your leg in the moment before the full extension, they can still catch it after the fact. Quick recoil is as essential to a kick’s success as the extension. It’s also necessary to keep us from overextending.

After they’ve mastered the chamber and extension, beginners will often have difficulty with this step. It has all the same problems as the chamber, just going in the opposite direction. A good recoil is a sign of strong control over the leg.

5) Plant

Return to start or prepare for transition into the next kick. The leg comes down, plants itself on the floor, and the fighter is ready to either continue attacking or begin defending.

A poor plant means that you’ve now messed up your fighting stance. If the foot comes down in the wrong place, the stance becomes unbalanced. A stance that is either too wide or two shallow creates opportunities for your opponent to destabilize you and make it difficult to attack again without over extending.

Those are the steps of the roundhouse. Throw them all together and you’ve got the full kick. The roundhouse has a very specific usage in martial arts that makes it valuable. The purpose of the roundhouse is simple: it’s a kick built for striking an enemy who is also in a fighting stance.

When our bodies are turned on a diagonal our vitals are better protected than they are when we’re forward facing. It becomes difficult, or more risky for a direct forward strike to land. The roundhouse attacks in a circle, coming around from the side and on angle. It creates a new vector attack those protected vitals like the stomach.

This is why the roundhouse is a popular kick. It is simple, and effective at ghosting around the first, opening opposition. (It’s also easily blocked with both hands and legs, but that’s a story for another day.) However, this is not why Chuck Norris’ roundhouse became the stuff of legend.

Perhaps more so than the sidekick, the roundhouse is iconic in popular culture. The roundhouse looks fantastic on film.  It has a beautiful silhouette, it’s eye catching but also easy to follow. It looks more dynamic than most of the other basic kicks, and it’s simple. An actor you’ve only got three months to train before filming can learn the basics of this kick. They won’t look great, but no one can tell. It doesn’t require the same flexibility as the more advanced kicks like the axe kick. Nor does it require the finesse, balance, or control of the sidekick. It’s the sort of kick where general audiences can’t tell if the practitioner is new or their technique sucks, and blends easily with the stunt doubles. Audiences have a difficult time telling the difference between a kick with power and a kick without power.

The roundhouse is the most common kick seen in taekwondo tournaments, and very common in kickboxing for its speed. It is faster and easier than the front kick and the sidekick due to the twist necessary to throw the leg across the body. With the roundhouse, momentum will do most of the work for you. This is why it’s the most common kick to see untrained fighters attempt to mimic, and why it gets used on the streets.

It can be effective without much training, but that person can be totally screwed when paired against someone who knows what they’re doing. Due to it’s vector, the roundhouse is the easiest kick to catch. Whether it’s caught and hooked under the arm for a knee break or the full thing gets caught and lifted into a throw, it doesn’t matter. A poorly performed or unlucky roundhouse can really screw you over. The other problem is that the circular motion of the roundhouse makes it the least camouflaged by the body and the easiest to see coming.

So, yes, the roundhouse can be combat efficient. They’re also dependent on your ability to follow through the steps on rough terrain where friction is not amenable to foot twists. They come with obvious tells for when the kick is about to happen, and there are a lot of counters developed to deal with them.

Whether coming or going, for one side or the other, the roundhouse has the potential to wreck your day.

 -Michi

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Pyramid Scheme scammer ends up paying in the end!

(very long story)

About 6 or 7 years ago, I was trying to enlist into the military. I ended up not joining but that’s a story for another time. At this point, I was led to believe I was about 4 months away from leaving for Boot camp. I was running out of savings, and needing a part time job for some spending cash while I waited around.

So I did what any enterprising 20something would do, and searched craigslist for jobs. I normally hate sales jobs, especially those based on commissions, but figured it would be a great way to earn some extra cash short term. Found a few job listings that looked promising, and put out some applications. A few days later I received a call from David. He was opening up a new store and needed associates. He liked my resume and asked if I’d be available for an interview on Friday morning. I was very up front with him, and let him know that the distance was a bit more than I’d normally drive for a retail job, and asked what he was offering for an hourly rate, to see if it was worth the drive. He told me that they were planning on offering an hourly rate in the mid teens, along with commission. Seemed like an ok deal, so I agreed to be there Friday at 8am.

Keep reading

No Regrets - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Originally posted by little--batman

Summary: Soulmate!AU - When your soulmate gets hurt you receive a flower tattoo on your body on the same location they were wounded. Imagine (Y/N) having her whole left arm covered in flowers while Buckys whole hand was covered in them.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warning: There really isn’t any, unless you’re afraid of Bucky finding happiness. If you’re afraid of that I feel sorry for you.

A/N: First soulmate au?? Been wanting to do this one long before I started this blog??

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When Bucky grew up he didn’t have flowers on him like the other kids. Nobody ever knew that, of course, he was good looking enough to get whoever he wanted at his hip. That’s one main reason why he got along with Steve, Steve never got any either. They both believed maybe they weren’t destined to have a soulmate, of course there was the option that their soulmates maybe never have been hurt but it was a long shot.

After being woken up from his cryogenic stasis and retrieving most of his memories back he realized his whole right hand was covered in flowers. He never believed he had a soulmate but it registered in his head that his soulmate was from a different time period than what he was from. He soon also figured out that Steve also had the same issue; He had a soulmate but was destined to meet them after he woke up from his frozen state.

As for (Y/N)? She had millions of flowers. Some were randomly placed on her body, Bucky had them as well. But the ones that stood out the most were the full sleeve she had on her left arm. She often hid it but lately she began to flaunt it off. Her soulmate had to have had something messed with their whole left arm, it wouldn’t have been that hard to point out in public too. She always looked out for the left arms of strangers in public, but she never had good luck.

Not only that but (Y/N) constantly looked at the hands of people as well. She knew they would have flowers there. She wasn’t as normal and ordinary as others, she had powers that nobody else had. She hid them, she knew what happened to people after they showed others the gifts they possessed. She was practically a human torch, she could heat up anything she wanted. When she was younger she was practicing and accidentally burned her hands, it was so bad that she couldn’t use them for weeks and had to make up an excuse that she did it while cooking something. Of course everyone believed her because nobody thought of the alternative that she had super powers. She hated the way her hands looked, scars covered them from her wrist to the top of her fingers, she would never go anywhere without hiding them with gloves.

She was cleaning up the counters of her job in the middle of the day when an oddly large group walked in. She sighed to herself knowing she would have to take care of them because the only other person on duty was already at another table. (Y/N) was wearing a classic blue and white waitress outfit and her jacket, it was a chilly day so nobody obliged to her clothing choices. She often wore a jacket anyways, only due to the tattoos crawling up her left arm.

(Y/N) walked up to the table that the group had chose to sit at before preparing herself to take their orders. She flipped open her small notebook before taking the pen out of her pocket, plastering a fake smile on her face.

“Hello, I’m (Y/N). I’ll be your waitress today, if you need anything please run it by me! I can order your drinks if you would like and while I go make them I’ll give you time to choose what you’d like to order.” She gave a toothy smile before looking at everyone, waiting for someone to point out what they’d like to drink.

“I’ll just have a water, please.” The blonde male spoke up first and gave you a smile.

“Me too, I’d like a water.” His darker friend next to him ordered the same thing and thanked her shortly after.

“I’ll have a strawberry milkshake and my pal here would like a coffee, please.” A redhead clapped her hands before patting her older friend on the back, receiving a glare that soon turned into a joking smile.

“And you two?” (Y/N) looked at the two males who haven’t given a drink yet. One was looking at the menu while the other was staring off into his lap.

“I suppose you don’t have alcohol here, do you?” A bearded (and clearly) wealthy man gave her a look before setting the drink menu down.

“No sir. The only drinks we have are on that menu.”

“Then I’ll just have a shake as well. Make it a mint.”

She wrote down the drink before focusing her gaze on the quiet man. His head was down and his conscience clearly wasn’t with the rest of them. His long brown hair overlapped most of his face and a hat was covering his eyes. He wore a baggy black sweatshirt and gloves. If anything, he didn’t want to be there and it was very noticeable.

“He’ll have a water too, thanks.” The same blonde from earlier spoke up on the quiet mans behalf. She nodded with a smile before returning to behind the counter to make the drinks. She was almost done until a bit of the mint milkshake spilt onto the sleeve of her jacket. She cursed quietly to the point where only she could hear herself and removed her jacket, setting it in the back room before looking at her tattooed arm in disgust. She always wanted to flaunt her arm around but never while on the job. She mostly got bad looks from it and it often decreased her chances on a tip. If it meant less money, then she wasn’t a big fan.

She finished the drinks before placing them onto a tray and carrying them to the table with one hand. She set half of it down on the table and half balanced with her knee before she started to hand them out towards everyone. When she was finished she set the tray under her arm and pulled out her notebook once again to write down the orders of the group. She smiled to the few who thanked her for the drinks.

“Have enough time to figure out what you want to eat?” She put on the same fake smile as before. They ordered their food one after one and yet again the quiet man was the one that was last to order. She looked up at him only to realize his eyes were strongly fixated onto her arm. Her confidence completely dropped knowing the meaning behind his stare, every time a customer laid eyes onto her arm she felt insecure, she felt as if she should apologize like it was her fault, and so she did.

“I am so very sorry, sir. I’ll go put on my jacket.” She was about to quickly go throw on her stained jacket before he spoke up in a deep, raspy voice. It was the first words he had spoken since he entered the building.

Why do you wear gloves?” She stopped in her tracks and stared at his with wide eyes. By this point the rest of the group had realized why he was so interested in her arm and hands. They all shared the same look, they all wondered if this was Buckys soulmate.

“To hide what’s underneath.” Her eyebrows were furrowed at the mysterious man. She had to admit, she had no idea what his deal was. First he stares at her arm and then asks what she is hiding underneath the leather on her hands. Of course, she was oblivious to what was happening but perhaps it’s because she didn’t know what was under his left arms sleeve.

Buckys right arm pulled down the zipper of his jacket before tearing it off. At the same time he ripped off the gloves from his hands and stared at the flowers inked perfectly around his palms. (Y/N)’s eyes widen as she looked at the cybernetic limb connected to his body. His whole left arm was missing, and her whole left arm was covered. Bucky raised his human hand and showed her the printings on it, his eyebrow raised as he focused his gaze on her covered hands.

Overcoming her ego, she set the tray and notebook down on a nearby table before unbuckling the bucks on her gloves and sliding them off. Her hands were burnt beyond any recognition, if it weren’t for the obvious figure by her fingers and palms, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was actual human flesh. Bucky soon stood up and walked towards (Y/N).

“Come with me.” He whispered into her ear with a stern voice. She quickly caught on before grabbing her notebook and handing it to her co-worker. Her co-worker nodded in agreement, by the look on (Y/N)’s face she knew she needed a moment. She quickly thanked her before running out the front doors to meet up with the stranger who just so happened to possibly be her soulmate. When she walked out he had his hat in one hand balanced on his hip and his other was running through his hair. They stood there silently for a minute before he looked her in the eye and spoke up.

“I have a line of flowers on my lower back.” His hand went to the neck of his shirt before lifting up a bit to show the tattoo on his back. (Y/N)’s hand came to cover her mouth. It was the same scar she received when she was little, it reach from the lower part of her back to the middle. If she wasn’t wearing a dress she would have showed him then and there to prove to him.

You’re my soulmate.” She spoke through her hand. He hands dropped to his sides as he stared at face. He stared at every detail noticeable by the human eye before looking at her burnt hands covering her lips. He saw the way her nose perked out, the way her (Y/E/C) eyes stared at his. Her eyes were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he could stare at them for hours. He stared at her luscious (Y/H/C) hair and the way it was perfectly laying above her shoulders.

“God, you’re beautiful.” His hand hesitantly came up and caressed hers, overlapping her cheek. Within a second her hands snaked around the boys neck and pulled his body into a tight hug. His body tensed up from the contact but soon after he relaxed and put his around her waist. She set her head in the crook of his neck and smelt his amazing aroma. After a moment of standing there (Y/N) opened her eyes and saw his friends staring out the side window at them. She let out a small giggle before pointing into their direction.

When Bucky turned around he let out a big scoff before giving them the finger, his lips turned into a smile once he heard the beautiful, moment-stopping laugh escaping her lips. He grabbed her hand before giving it a kiss and staring at the scars left on her.

“You shouldn’t hide your hands, you know.”

“And you shouldn’t hide your arm.”

Bucky had stayed with (Y/N), sitting at the bar stool where she normally would be behind the stand. His friends soon left after eating and patted him on his back, knowing he was going to stay for a while. They talked all night like normal people having a normal conversation. He learned about her past and she learned about his.

“So why exactly did you feel the need to put your jacket on earlier when I was looking at your arm? And why do you wear the gloves? I mean I understand the looks you would get from people, I get them too when people see my arm but… I’m just asking why you care of what others think.”

She set the last dirty dish into the washer before turning it on and facing him. “It doesn’t give you the best reputation.” She removed the rubber gloves from her hands and placed them into the trash before lifting her hands and studying every crease and imperfection.

“I hate being known as the girl with the burnt hands. I hate receiving stares and sympathy looks. I hate walking down the street and hearing someone whisper ‘that really must have hurt’. People who want their food suspect that a well professional, that isn’t covered in ink and scars will serve them, hiding them not only satisfies their needs but it gets me more money. It’s just how business works.”

His hands reach for hers and brought them up to his lips. He kissed the top of her hand over and over and looked into her eyes.

“Don’t ever feel like you need to hide anything from me. You’re my soulmate and I wouldn’t want you any other way. Besides, your arm is my fault anyways. If I hadn’t lost my arm then-” (Y/N) smiled at him before cutting him off.

“Don’t. I wouldn’t want you any other way.” His teeth shined through and she mimicked his smile. They had been there hour after hour talking about anything and everything. It was the first time Bucky had truly opened up to someone and he didn’t regret it at all. He loved the way she would smile and laugh at any joke he said, whether it was funny or not. He loved the way she would give him a concerned and loving look after he shared a hurtful memory from his past. He loved the way she would listen to every word he would say, thoughtfully while simultaneously thinking of the perfect thing to say back. He wasn’t even suppose to originally come to this restaurant at first but Steve insisted, and he didn’t regret giving into his best friends wishes. He didn’t regret anything he did in his life because it all led up to this moment, the moment where he met the love of his life.

He wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He didn’t regret a thing.

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Tags:
@gallifreyansass @bellastellaluna @walkingtravesty97 @crazy4thewinbros @iamwarrenspeace @ginger-wayward-assbutt

Just Say It (Bill Skarsgard x Reader)

requested: Hi! Could you please do a Bill Skarsgard X Reader imagine? So (Y/N) played Roman’s (Bill’s character) best friend / crush in Hemlock Grove and after the show ends, they see each other in IT premiere because (Y/N) is accompanying her brother Jackson (Who plays Georgie). Just fluff and Bill and (Y/N) are in love but they don’t know and Jackson spills that they like each other. Thanks! Your works are amazing!

Word Count: 1576

Warnings: some mature language ?

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting, this is such a good idea!

Originally posted by jonerysloveboat

There’s something scarily intoxicating about the acting industry. It’s like a siren beautifully singing to lure you closer and closer to the cliffs, waiting for a fatal collision. Yet (to her family’s dismay) it had affected Y/N - and now her little brother, Jackson. Their father had been a lawyer and their mother a teacher; both reliable jobs meant to procure a salary and stability. They had tried so hard to instill the idea of the American Dream and all that nonsense into their children.

Self-destruction must skip a generation, Y/N supposed.

Y/N had spent most of her acting career twiddling her thumbs as she waited for auditions and call backs that never came. She did her best to present everything good and unique about herself on resumes, but (nine times out of ten) not even that was good enough. It was disappointing to say the least and depressing to say the most. Initially, she didn’t want Jackson to pursue acting either. All the experiences he’d miss, like all the experiences she missed, could never be replaced. All the self deprecation and angst and the thoughts of ‘I’m not good enough’ - how in God’s name could she wish that upon her baby brother? But, as she sat in the backseat of a white limo, little Jackson sitting across from her, she acknowledged how wrong she had been. He was wearing such an expensive tuxedo, yet he was still pressing his nose to the window’s glass and making patterns with the fog. He wasn’t missing experiences - he was making them. Like a kid should.

It was her mother who first brought it all to light one evening over dinner, It wasn’t all bad, she had said after shoveling runny mashed potatoes onto her plate. And that was true; Y/N had played Odette Polinsky on Hemlock Grove. She was barely eighteen when she got the role and, though job single-handedly saved her career, yet it wasn’t even a completely positive memory.

Y/N was the youngest cast member on Hemlock Grove, and was completely (and pathetically) infatuated with a boy who saw her as nothing more as a friend. She had to witness the endless stream of girls come and go, as he conquered them and moved on.

“Did you talk to Ellie?” He whispered in Y/N’s ear during the show’s second season. He was leaning on his chair, with his elbow propping up his chin as he smiled boyishly. She tried to ignore the tingles as they ran down her spine, swallowing thickly. Ellie was his latest prize and she was constantly prancing around set in tube tops and denim short shorts. He followed her like a moth to a flame.

“Ya, I - I did. She really - likes you.” She managed to splutter out. Sometimes, when she was concentrating and focused, she could pretend conversations with him where just a scene. Their interactions all had a script, she would tell herself, therefore there’s no reason to panic. But this was not one of those days.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed as he scratched his chin with his thumb and index finger. He cocked his eyebrow at her and smiled, his lips slightly parted. He was so close to her, that she could smell his cologne - oranges and mint. Y/N had to stop herself from closing her eyes and leaning in.

“Well, catch you later Oddi!” He said quickly, as he briskly stood up from his chair and cracked his knuckles.

“See you Roman.” She replied quietly to herself.

Said boy just so happens to star alongside Jackson. She wondered if he still smelt the same like oranges and mint, maybe he even was -

Y/N shook her head, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. She couldn’t think about him today, today was Jackson’s day. Besides he had every other damn day to consume her thoughts. She would avoid him and that was that.

“Y/N! Y/N! Look! Look!” Jackson was pointing as he stared at all the flashing cameras and interviewers with microphones stood at the ready. His eyes lit up as he spoke and he smiled that dimpled smile of pure joy. Make those experiences, Jackson, thought Y/N as she smiled and stared with him. Soon enough they were parked and helped out of a limo by a wide shouldered man who fistbumped Jackson. Y/N smoothed out her silver dress (hoping to God, there were no wrinkles) and touched the earrings on her ears (those bad boys cost as much as a mortgage).

The boy bounded outside of the limo and was immediately bombarded by interviewers and questions (“How was working with older actors?” “We’re you scared?” “Are you going to see the movie?”).

Y/N stifled a laugh as she caught up to Jackson, making sure to look more confident than she really was in her black pumps. She subtly pointed in attempts to direct his attention to an interview who looked kind enough. Immediately the young boy caught on, at seven years old he was more aware of social cues then Y/N. Y/N went off to stand next to her parents, making sure to stay in direct earshot.

“Hello!” Jackson exclaimed happily, interlocking his fingers and letting his arms go slack. He looked so professional and gentlemanly, Y/N could’ve sang.

“Hello there Jackson! It’s so great to talk to you!” The interview knelt a bit, getting down to his level. She was tilting the microphone towards his mouth as she smiled genuinely.

“And you!”

“Thank you very much! Anyway, so both you and your sister have both worked with Bill Skarsgard right?”

Oh boy here it is.

“Yep!” Jackson said just as happily.

“How did you like it?!”

“Well, his costume is kinda scary but I saw him - em - get ready and stuff so - so it wasn’t too bad. I mean, eating me was kinda scary but not too too bad. He’s actually really nice and a really good actor and he told me a lot of stories about my sister and a lot of them were really funny but some of them weren’t really funny.” Jackson rambled, his tongue was officially detached from his brain. Now it wagged along in his jaw.

“What were the not so funny stories?” The interviewer asked puzzled, as she tried to reposition herself so the microphone was right underneath Jackson.

C’mon kid. I love ya. I care for ya. I support ya in all aspects of life. But if you say some of those not so funny stories, you better hope to God you - Y/N’s mind was in complete freefall, every secret fantasy, dream, and hope was currently abandoning ship.

Jackson, giddy as ever, had no problem wagging his tongue some more. He took a deep breath of air before saying, “Well, he told me about how sometimes on the show he would try to - um - get her attention and it never really worked and she never liked him. He told me that she thought he was, well, I dunno what it means so it could be a bad word … ”

“Go on, I’ll make sure it isn’t a bad word.” The interviewer egged on. Y/N was starting to like this woman less and less.

“He said that she thought he was a player.” The interviewer just laughed and assured him that ‘player’ was not in fact a bad word before asking him other questions about the movie.

Y/N looked around her as if to say, Did anyone else just hear that? Her jaw was now completely slack as she hung it open stupidly. Her shoulders unstraightened, her back slouched, and she had to check to make sure that the earrings were still hanging from her ears.

“Did you hear that?” A familiar voice asked in her ear as tingles shot down her spine. Y/N looked up at the tall god that was Bill Skarsgard and nodded fiercely, as she felt her forehead with the back of her hand. Was she ill? Because now she was feeling a bit feverish in this dress.

“Did you really?” He asked again, looking down at his shoes and smirking, his lips just parted. She just nodded again. “Well, I suppose the truth is out there.” His slight accent on the word ‘there’ caused Y/N to smile widely.

“I never thought you were a player. I thought you were …  popular.” Y/N finally said, breaking the tension. Bill tipped his head back, his hands in the pockets of his tailored trousers, and gave the heartiest laugh. The breeze caught his hair and Y/N could smell oranges and mint on the wind.

Once he had stopped laughing, all Y/N could think was just say it, just say it.

“I - uh - I well I was trying as much as - I - well wanted your attention too.” Y/N finally spoke out, raising her voice to make sure he heard it too. “Wow - I always thought you didn’t like me and I want you to kno-”

“HEY CAN WE GET A PHOTO OF YOU GUYS?!” A photographer interjected the sweet moment much to Y/N’s dismay. But Bill snaked his hand on her waist and softly pulled her into him, so she was pressed into his long torso. She smiled at the small gesture, looking down at his hand as she felt him smile down on her.

abs and algebra - peter parker

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: Prompt List- #20. “Arguing with you is always at the top of my list.”

Y/N never thought that the fitness room would make such a great study place. Peter never thought working out instead of homework was such a good excuse.

Requested: yes

Warning: language, slight teen angst, lol teen hormones

Word Count: 2339

Here’s another Peter one! I did a slight angst one bc I never really do those so here ya go! Lol hope you all enjoy!

Tagged List: @sigh-whoami @imsecretlyromanburki

MASTERLIST

_____________________________________________________________________

Why does he act like he knows absolutely everything? Why is always wearing that stupid blue sweater? Didn’t he know that it was a like eighty degrees outside? And why is he staring a hole through you right now, with his lips turned up like that, god that annoyed you so much. Oh god, and why are you blushing, uneasy mess right now? Snap the fuck out of it!

You quickly snapped your intense yet annoyed gaze at Peter and focused back on your homework. You still felt the burning feeling of his eyes on you as you continued to finish your Algebra homework. Why wasn’t he doing his homework? Great question, he should be finishing his homework. This was yet another one of the millions of qualities you didn’t care for about Peter Parker. It wasn’t that you hated him per se it was just, he acts like- well he thinks- okay fine. You really, really didn’t like him.

It was just almost everything about him ticked you off in such a way it made your eyes roll into the back of your head every time something cocky rolled off his tongue, or when he proved how much he could actually lift in the gym room, and when he acted as if he was the biggest superhero to roam the streets since Tony Stark.

He wasn’t.

I mean, neither were you. Sure, you couldn’t catch a bus with your bare hands. Or hang upside down from walls like a complete idiot, but you still had powers too. Yours weren’t trapping people in webbing, but they were pretty powerful. But, that’s besides the point. The point was, Peter Parker would find his way around a fucking mountain just to piss you off.

You didn’t to say it was personal, but it was. At school, he was a completely different person. His usual loud, rowdy, and arrogant persona you saw almost every day at the base was flipped into a shy, quiet, and polite teenage boy around his schoolmates and teachers. His superhero tactics and attitude must of paved the way for his ego to grow immensely around you outside of school. You didn’t even speak to him in Algebra class, it was as if you two didn’t know each other. He was low on the social radar at school, but you, you were even lower.

That didn’t bother you, knowing that as long as Peter kept your secret from everyone, you would keep his. But, this whole “teammate guidelines” book wasn’t even established beyond the boundaries of missions. Around the base, he would do anything to piss you off, and he knew it. He knew how angry you would get when he yanked your glasses of playfully as you worked vigorously on your homework. Or, when you would have to go on missions with him, he acted as if you were there to observe and he was sent to complete the job.

This was one thing you never grew tired of, and you attempted to tell Tony, but then decided against it, due to the fact Tony would just believe it was the two teens on the team who wanted to start drama.

So, you tried to keep your fiery comments back to Peter very slim, but that was on a good day.

Today was not one of those days.

Your mind had been attempting to focus its full attention on your Algebra homework for the past hour, but everywhere you traveled to try and get some peace and quiet, something disrupted you. So, you decided to land your final destination in the Fitness Room, somewhere you never went (lol). You typed in the pass code on the pad next to the door and walked in, the sound of absolute silence hitting your eardrums instantly. The sound was music to yours in a way as the silence settled you down and kept you calm.

Finally. There’s no arguing Tony and Steve, no loud Bucky and Sam, and then best of all, no bickering, egotistical Peter.

You sighed heavily in victory before making way to the only table in the Fitness Room. Sitting down at the white table, you pulled out your Algebra book and spiral, turning directly to the page you had stopped on when you heard Thor yell from behind you, “Neither of you are worthy!”.

You place your hands in your tangled locks, slipping on your glasses before looking down at the book to continue your studying in hopefully, silence.

Okay, if the four is squared then there’s no way this could work. The problem has to be undefined, I just don’t understand how-

You obviously spoke way too soon. Your thinking was stopped midway of the problem once your ears perked at the sound of the door swinging open and the footsteps of the last person you would want in there with you at the moment.

“Hey! Y/N! What are you doing studying in here?”

The voice that made your head ache and your veins pop out of your arms rang through your ears in a loud, uneasy echo throughout the seemingly vacant room.

Your Y/E/C eyes shut themselves tightly, fists matching them as you reached up to yank your glasses off your head and slam them down on your book in annoyance. Turning around to lock gazes with the prick behind you, you feel the peak of your complete and utter luck drop to the bottom of the line.

“This was the only quiet place in the entire building,” your pink lips open in a scowl as you made sure to emphasize the ‘was’ in your statement.

Peter’s brown eyes rolled into the back of his head as he tossed his towel across the room, landing on a weight bench. His shoulders shrugged in a careless manner, “Well, now it isn’t.”

A deep groan emitted from the bottom of your throat at his comment. Why can’t you just do one thing? One thing, Without Peter worming his ass into it. Whatever, you’ll just ignore him for the time being. You could do that, right? Of course you could.

Another sigh emits from you before you turn back around and attempt to focus on the problem that’s been eating your energy our for minutes. Slipping your glasses back on, you pick up your pencil and begin to work the problem form the beginning, seeing if you could start over and maybe, finally solve it.

As you began to write the four transitioning from the other side of the equation, your brain realized that wouldn’t work and mentally erased the idea from your mind. Minutes passed, and after five tries, your mind starts to get antsy and annoyed with the erase marks and X’s scattered all across your paper.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t subtract it from the-but wait. Then you would have to add, but no. That doesn’t make any sense either…” you muttered yourself, grumbling as you trailed off your incorrect thought and filed it with the others. You bit your chapped lip and tugged on it as your eyes lifted from the book to wander around the room in thought.

Your eyes shifted from towards the left corner of your eye and your intense, diligent gaze shifted from cloudy numbers scattered around your brain to a site that you hate to admit it, made your mind wander from math to an entirely new adventure. As you thought your eyes would meet a vacant workout bench, they instead met a very sweaty and very shirtless Peter Parker lifting weights before you.

What even was, Math?

Your thoughts vanished of immediate hatred every time your eyes met his figure. This time, your mouth went from ‘opened wide to scream something cursing at the boy in front of you’ to ‘close your damn mouth, Y/N, drool is starting to form at the boy in front of you’. His slightly tanned bare chest glistened with sweat dripping down to this stomach area. Obviously, Peter had yanked off the fully covered sweater that adorned his apparently, toned ass body underneath. You silently and guiltily prayed to the gods for the sight before you.

You continued to stare heavily at the sweaty, ripped boy lifting weights before you. Your eyes then trailed up to his bulging biceps, flexing every time the weight would come up above his sweaty head of hair. You felt your breath become heavy and your chest rise up in nervousness each time his body flexed in a new and fucking incredible way.  Your eyes then made way to Peter’s hair, he usual slicked back hair was ruffled in curls, due to the fact the wetness made his true hair type become evident.

Okay fine, you knew Peter was very, very attractive. But this? This was something you definitely didn’t need in your life. This was going to make everything ten times harder in an argument with the ripped boy next to you. Why god, why? But at the same time, thank you god, thank you.

“Are you done?”

The sound of Peter’s raspy and slightly high voice range through your ears, snapping you out of your guilty Peter stare down. You veins pumped with nerves and your eyes greeted Peter’s right brown orbs in an entire new kind of look. The clouded anticipation of Peter’s body was no longer evident in your eyes, it was now the usual annoyed glaze over your orbs. Your brain wracked for something smart to say back, knowing you’d been caught.

God, he is never going to let you live this down.

“What are you talking about?” you faked reality and acted as if he was the crazy one. You narrow your lids in seemingly displeasure and throw your pencil down, which had almost broken due to your fist squeezing it into oblivion.

Peter then jumped down from the slightly high step that supported numerous types of workout equipment. His wet towel was grasped in his right hand as he walked to right next to you, bare body leaning against the pole, “You’ve been checking me out for the past three minutes,” he interjected, arms folded across his chest cockily.

Your heart was beating quickly at his sudden confession, the truth obviously being told. You attempted to think of something fast before your major contemplative actions became too obvious. So, you thought of the most clever response you could come up with on a whim.

“Ew, no I haven’t.”

Wow, Y/N. That was genuinely so clever, you dumb ass.

“Uh, yeah you were,” he pushed back, leaning himself of the pole and inching closer to you.

“NO, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

“Nope.”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“Peter it’s called thinking!” you sassed back, now standing up as aggravation swept your entire demeanor. Your own arms folded over your chest in a heated daze as your eyes never took themselves off Peter’s.

“Really, 'cause the last time I checked, biting your lip and staring at someone’s chest isn’t called thinking.”

Your body was so close to Peter’s you could feel the hot breath roll off his lips and hot your face as he fired back another comment. The body proximity of you two was nearly close to passing the 'too close’ line, but you didn’t care. You weren’t about to let Peter have this hanging over your head for the rest of your life. No matter how fucking good he looked sweaty and shirtless, you had to win.

Your eyes searched Peter’s in an intent stare as you popped out a question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for months, “Why do you always want to argue with me?”

You watched as Peter’s pink lips turned up into a playful smirk before stepping across that proximity into dangerous territory. Your pulse quickened at your state, your body instantly responding to a glorious hot and sweaty boy standing so close to you. Your cheeks flushed as the thoughts of this ran through your brain. Your teenage hormones didn’t give a shit whether it was Peter Parker or not standing this close to you in this state, they just knew how to play you.

Peter’s lips inched closer to yours, and the closer they got, the farther your brain got from the feeling of dislike and annoyance with the boy in front of you.

“Because, arguing with you is always at the top of my list,” he daringly whispered against your lips, the breath from his comment hitting your mouth slyly. Your eyes bounced from Peter’s bright brown eyes down to those egotistical lips numerous times before you had no idea what the hell you were doing. Your hormones were in drive.

The next thing you knew, your hand wrapped itself around Peter’s neck and yanked him forward to meet your mouth in a hot, fiery, and searing kiss. The word hatred meant nothing to you as his slightly chapped lips pushed themselves back onto yours and his arms wrapped around your frame. One hand was placed on the back of his neck and the other reached down and ran up and down his glorious abs. You felt him moan slightly at your soft touch and pulled you even closer to him, if that was a possibility. Your body ignited with sparks at his touch, and your knees shook as his tongue attempted to slide itself past your lips.

With no sense of manner or care in the world, you allowed him to and your body almost fainted at the feeling. You could tell it was getting hot and heavy a little too soon, so you shut your lips back together and took your hand off the back of his neck and sighed against his lips.

Peter took this as a signal and kissed you one last time softly before pulling away. Both your bodies breathed heavily near each other in need for instant air. Your eyes met in a warm daze and you reached up in delight to faintly touch your lips.

Faces burning with sudden realizations and passion, you drew apart and for the first time, smiled genuinely at the other.

anonymous asked:

I feel so stupid lol ☺️ but i really need to ask this, i am 16-17 and i wanna be more girly and like lil'woman, how can i? Thank you soooo much again 💕

 Oh! You want to be more “girly” ? Well, I’m going to take in fact what girly normally means in this sense and use it like that ahhah! Don’t feel stupid, though.

First thing’s first:

You have your own style that is unique to you…etc. You don’t have to be something else, though if you are currently not happy with yourself and are working on self improvement, I encourage you to do so. Let’s start with some basics on what “girly” or “feminine” is! 

Girly is basically acting in very feminine and liking feminine things. However, there is MUCH more to it than just the look. I’m going to start off with the more “mature” side of things, as you said you wanted to be more like a woman (which includes maturity) and then we can work on other things! It’s not just a style, it’s a mindset. The “fuck you i’m going to get my goals” mindset.

Embracing yourself:

/Note: None of this is set in stone. This is just my opinion on to help her grow into a stronger and more mature woman.

  • Do not take shit. Walk with your head high and smile. If someone puts you down, ask yourself: “Is this a logical problem or is it opinionated?” If it is opinionated, ignore it. If it is logical and backed with evidence and reasoning, take it into factor and make note to work on that.
  • Learn to treat yourself. It’s okay to want to spend a little extra money on yourself sometimes.
  • Be independent. Don’t rely on others to get things done for you. Your homework is your homework. Your job is your job. Be independent and don’t rely on them to do it for you!
  • Treat yourself and others with respect. I have a rule, instead of just “you have to earn my respect” I say: “I respect until you disrespect, and at that point, I drop all respect I’ve had for you.”
  • Fight immaturity with maturity. If someone is being messy as hell, fight back with maturity. Give no fucks. Show no mercy. When they call you a name and try to fight, if you want to piss them off AND come off as mature, say something like: “Honestly, I have goals to reach. I don’t have time for you to be immature and try to ruin that for me.” And walk off.
  • Don’t be afraid to break sometimes. It happens to the strongest of people. There is no way I could count how many times I sat in bed at night trying to stop crying. Cry, and afterwards, take a deep breath and tell yourself that you’ll get through this.
  • DO NOT let people dictate who you are. Don’t let these little boys or girls tell you that you need to look like this or that. Don’t let them tell you who you should be. Not even your parents are allowed to tell you who to be. If they try, pretend to obey but do the exact opposite. Be who YOU are.
  • Get your schoolwork done, babe. Seriously this is important, it isn’t about the grades. It’s about furthering your knowledge and showing everyone that you can do what they think you can’t.
  • Have fun! Have fun if you want, but be safe.
  • Do everything with confidence, even if you have to fake it!
  • Follow your passions. Maybe you like dance, singing art, makeup or whatever else. Do it. 
  • Remember that if anyone ever says you fucked them, that only gives you power.
  • If you’re giving an assignment wednesday and are told you need it finished by friday, work on it wednesday. Cut off all distractions and work on that assignment. Afterwards, write down everything you didn’t understand. The next day, spend time learning about what you didn’t understand and proofread the assignment 3 times. This applies for ALL days.
  • Exams coming up soon? Stop staying up all night studying. Study in 10-15 minute intervals with 5 minute breaks. Quiz yourself every hour to find your weak links and then study those. What are you scared of failing most? Focus on that.
  • You’re 16-17. You know about sex. You know how it works. You may have already have sex. This is okay. All I ask of you is to be safe. Do NOT rely on someone to have condoms, if you need, go buy them yourself. Know how to do things safely. Remember: Kink isn’t spontaneous, it’s safe words. Anal isn’t a quick slip, it’s reading articles on how to do it and lube. Be safe, be real.
  • In the case that you get pregnant: Breathe. Make your choices. Do what you need to do and always remember that you can run in my askbox and talk to me about everything. I will always be here to listen. You can also read articles and such on parenting advice, how to do it as a teenager..etc.
  • I’m telling you the above because I’ve had friends who got pregnant at 15-16 or 17 and didn’t know what to do.
  • Also: 
  • Don’t slut shame  or talk bad about girls who want to have sex and have lots of it. Instead, encourage them to do it safely.
  • Don’t put anyone down that isn’t as popular as you. Bring them up. 
  • Being sweet will get you a long way.
  • Act twice your age if you want to look really mature in front of all the teachers and shit. Literally you can read articles..etc. on maturity.
  • Remember that maturity does not mean you can’t have fun.
  • If you feel depressed…etc. talk to someone. Don’t be silent.
  • One of the first signs I ever had of anorexia was that I craved the disorder. Which means I literally wanted to be it. Little did I know it was going to drag me through hell. If you have these thoughts, get help.
  • Do not be afraid of going to get help from a professional.

Inspirational Shit:

/Note:  Take notes on these. Take them to heart. Carry them with you like a blankie to a baby and don’t let go of them.

  • “All flowers must start as sprouts.” -  Me
  • “To fight or to cower down, that is the question. The question in which you should answer from the ground, even face down in the dirt, bloody and bruised from life with a smirk. Because to fight when you’re down is the most courageous thing.” - Me
  • “And she will bow to no one nor anything, and the day she does, you should fear.” - Me
  • “Learn the rules like a pro so you can break them like an artist.” - Picasso
  • “Don’t run backwards, no never, even if it breaks down, oh better.” - Tomorrow
  • “If you feel like you’re going to crash, accelerate you idiot.” - Nevermind
  • “You don’t need a ‘reason’ to live. Live because you can. Live because in the end, even if it hurts, you don’t need a reason to live. All that matters is that you’re here.” - Me
  • “If I ever break through the wall of failure, people will be in awe at the sight of me rising from nothingness.” - Me
  • “Some girls are full of heartache and poetry and those are the kind of girls who try to save wolves instead of running away from them.” - Nikita Gill  //Be one of those girls. - me//
  • If you want to truly live, you have to be tested, whether by yourself or the cruel game of life. - Me
  • Stop living in fear of what might happen and start living in what is happening. - Me
  • “Don’t fashion me into a maiden that needs saving from a dragon. I am the dragon and I will eat you whole.” - Unknown
  • “She spun herself a crown of gold, thrones of bones and citadels, to the deaf stars she screamed: make me queen or I’ll make you bleed.” M.J.
  • “You’re masking past failure with your present success and it’s both beautiful and terrifying, like watching a witch write your name in the stars.” A.Ashstar
  • Lmao there’s a lot from me but most of them have literally kept my best friends from dying so I added them anyways.
  • “Touch me and you’ll burn.” - Margaret Atwood
  • This photographers work will inspire you
  •  “You’re worth it, you’re perfect, you deserve it, just work it.” - 21st Century girl 

Now we can get on to the typical “style” or such. This is just some stuff that I’ve accumulated. However there is so much more to it. You dress how YOU want to dress. Do what makes you confident. But if you want, I do have a polyvore. (celestial-sweets). Now onto some style recommendations to embrace your femininity! When most people think “feminine” they think “dress” when I think feminine, I think “gorgeous”. There will be a massive variety under this. So you can wear whatever you want and still have style recommendations.

Clothing Style:

/Note: I feel the need to say that you should wear whatever makes you confident and comfy again.

  • Chic:
  • Tucked in tank tops and body suits with jeans
  • White skinny jeans look amazing with this look
  • Get your glitter lipstick on if you want boo yes work it
  • Nude also works well
  • Normally they don’t add a lot of highlight but i you want, yesss
  • Wavy/curly hair looks gorgeous with this style
  • Heels (usually black or tan) are a hella yes
  • Mascara and nude eyeshadow
  • Natural looking brows
  • Button ups
  • Baddie:
  • Do the above with this new style too, itll work
  • But also if you wear bodycon itll be hella looking baddie
  • thigh high boots happen a lot
  • matte lipstick
  • with matte eyeshaodw but with a really clean glitter
  • yea that happens
  •  and gradient brows ive noticed
  •  but the best part about this look is that you can be casual with it and look like you’re some kinda goddess i swear
  •  literally if you toss on some highlighter, a pair of ripped jeans and a shirt with some adidas 
  • or likea bomber jacket, a sports tank and shorts, with adidas and some like nude lipstick, brown mascara and highlgihter
  •  you will literally glow like you have never glown before
  • Crop tops are a thing with this look yall
  • Hella Cute And  Casual:
  • Jeans, sweatpants
  • Toss on like a crop top hoodie and a cropped tank and boom
  • oh oh oh and if you wear an oversized plain white t shirt with like a pair of jean shorts
  • you will make heads turn
  • honestly tho and with this, you wanna have very very light eyeliner like
  • just tightline the top, light mascara, aa clear gloss on your lips
  • you will be a glowing boo without even trying
  •  AND DUDE A MESSY BUN YES
  •  but if your hair is too short for that that’s okay boo i understand, 
  • itlls still look cute as fuck
  •  Fancy As Hell:
  • Heels, strappy ass heels,
  • Small chain necklaces with tiny pendants 
  • A ring or two, with some shiny bracelets
  •  nails
  • dresses dresses more dresses
  • soft curls or straight hair works well
  • a black scarf paired with a button up shirt and some black slacks and a pair of heels will make you look like a business woman
  • or like a pencil skirt
  • but a black pleated one works too
  • stockings go well with this look
  • TBH tho just wear what you wanna wear.  
  • Remember to put an outfit together super easily you can stick to basic colors like black/tan/gray/white and throw something on so quick to look fancy
  • Also to be honest any fancy undies will make you feel so much more feminine i swear
  •  like i have some lace ones with poka dot and i cry they make me feel so good
  • EXPLORE CLOTHING!!!
  • Bbut if you want to look very mature then you should look at business women…etc. take notes on style from it and how to present yourself.

Self care:

/Note: yes boo get ur self care

  • Wash your face
  • Moisturize
  • Don’t sleep in makeup
  • Coconut oil your legs like hella
  • Don’t forget to brush your teeth darling
  • Organize and clean your room once a week
  • Get your dishes out of the room EVERY DAY
  • Go to bed at a reasonable time if you have school okay
  • Wash your clothes when the basket is almost full, not full. But almost full. And learn how to properly wash them.
  • Go on a walk once a week or do some kind of activity
  • Drink ya water girl!
  • all this is so stereotypical but idgaf
  • Watch movies sometimes
  • EXPLORE!! Safely, though
  • If there’s somewhere you want to go, start saving a little bit of money to go there
  • When you wake up, look at yourself in the mirror and tell yourself you love you. 
  • Fight towards your goals
  • Ttake your damn vitamins boo bear. Like vitamins and nutrition support can help you so much more than you would know.
  • Don’t overwork yourself.
  • Love yourself, love myself. - RM

Okay boo that’s all the advice I have! Literally just have fun, much love dear. Always remember you can come to my ask box!! Have fun! Love yourself!!!

here are a bunch of AMAZING fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of july. I recommend that you read these great fics in august, if you haven’t already!! also check out the HL Summer Fic Exchange - my fic will be posted soon (hopefully)!

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)


1. Just a Walk in the Park 124k **

It’s 2015, the first time dinosaurs walked the earth in over 65 million years. The multi-billion dollar company, Twist Corporations, is planning a summer opening for their world changing attraction, “Jurassic Park”.

They take an interest in the history making duo of Dr. Louis Tomlinson, a stubborn paleontologist, and his partner, paleobotanist Dr. Liam Payne, giving them the chance of a lifetime to work for the new theme park. Louis is apprehensive, but Liam has a “gut feeling” that it will change their lives. He isn’t wrong.

Featuring Niall as the top engineer to get the park up and running, Zayn as the raptor expert, and Harry as the grandson of one of the most influential men in the world.

2. Let’s Embrace the Point of No Return 33k

Louis was a whole new scale of beautiful, he was richer than Harry could’ve ever imagined, and he was the most powerful, dominant alpha that Harry had ever come in contact with. The only problem now is that Louis is also Harry’s boss.

Louis believed Harry was an alpha, and had no idea about how he had lied about his status just to get an interview with Louis. He was in too deep now and he couldn’t look back.

Or, Harry is an omega intern at an all alpha company. Louis is his boss. There’s some complications.

3. How Could I Ever Forget 14k

After his boyfriend leaves him for a job in New York, Harry vows to move on with his life. A year later when their best friends announce their engagement, Harry knows he’ll be forced to see Louis again and face the truth he’s been trying his best to hide–even from himself.

Or a Vegas AU where Ziam’s bachelor party turns into drunken karaoke, winning thousands at slots, washing your clothes at the laundromat in your underwear, and making life altering decisions that you can’t remember in the morning.

Keep reading

honorary-penderwicks  asked:

Here's a thing I just re-watched civil war and when tony says "you're done stay down" peter starts to get up and then grabs the side of his chest the same way I do when I go a little overboard while binding. I bet before that fight he had never done so much physically and I also bet that the suit didn't have a binder in it yet because tony didn't know so he wore it without thinking about the exertion. Anyways just another trans peter thought I had thanks

peter doesn’t usually like binding bc his breasts are small enough that if he wears a oversized shirts and enough layers you can hardly tell he isn’t totally flat chested, but he still brings his binder with him to berlin just in case.

and he wasn’t going to bind during the fight bc his homemade suit is super baggy, but then tony makes him such an awesome suit…. but it’s skin tight. but it’s so COOL. and he knows it’s dumb, he KNOWS that, but he decides to bind. he reasons it’ll be okay because of his advanced healing factor, and besides — he’s spider-man!! he’s like 100 percent sure that he’s gonna kick captain america’s butt without even trying, let alone enough to feel the effects of his binder. 97 percent sure.

but hours later he’s laying on the tarmac of the airport, tony has just flown off effectively benching him from the fight, and he can’t move. everytime he tries to sit up his ribs feel like they’re gonna crack, if they haven’t already. and suddenly he’s aware of how lightheaded he is. he’s going to pass out. shit, how did he not notice this before?? it must have been all the adrenaline?? he didn’t know, didn’t have the energy to even think about it. he tried to sit up one more time, and that’s what caused his vision to spot up and go black.

he wakes up in his hotel room, momentarily confused about his surroundings. but then he remembers he’s in berlin and he relaxes back into the bed. but then he remembers the fight, that giant ant dude (hah, oxymoron), he remembers mr. stark flying off, he remembers not being able to breathe. but he can breathe now…

he tries to bolt upright but a sharp pain in his side makes him hiss and fall back to the bed.

“well, good morning, moron. or should i say good afternoon,” tony says, sitting in the chair on the other end of the room. he looks bored, scrolling through his phone. he also looks way more beaten up than he did when peter last saw him.

“how long have i been out?” peter says. he wants to cry. tony has to know. he has to. he wonders how many others know.

“several hours. oxygen deprivation and two cracked ribs can sometimes have that effect. but don’t worry, your healing factor is off the charts, almost on par with caps. you’ll be all healed by morning, if not sooner.” he sounds kinda of interested, and in any other situation peter would be tripping over himself to talk science about all the mutations he got from the spider bite, but right now all he can think about is his chest.

“who found me?”

“natasha.”

“black widow?”

tony chuckles. “i forget that’s what she calls herself. how pretentious.”

peter laughs humorlessly and ends up coughing because it hurts. “she’s pretentious? have you met yourself?”

tony looks up from his phone then mumbles, “you and pepper would get along.”

“where is it?” peter says, looking up to the ceiling. he feels himself starting to cry, he hates it.

“where’s what? oh you mean that thing that was on your chest? that had to be cut off.”

and peter feels himself choke on a sob before he can stop himself, it sends a shooting pain up his side. “that was my only binder.”

tony whistles and peter looks to him blearily through the tears welling up in his eyes. once they make eye contact tony gestures to the table next to peter’s bed. confused, peter moves his head only to have his eyes widen. some tears overflow against his will.

on the table are four high quality binders, each a different color, two of them are short binders and the other two are modeled more like tank tops.

tony stands up and walks over to the end of peter’s bed. “natasha knows, just natasha and i. sorry about that, but it couldn’t really be helped. but if it makes you feel any better natasha couldn’t care less, and even if she did she wouldn’t tell anyone.” he rolls his eyes and scowls. “she’s good at keeping information to herself.”

peter’s kind of dazed. he didn’t expect this.

“do you care?”

tony shrugs. “i don’t care that you’re trans, what i do care about is your health. you can’t wear your binders when you fight, peter. c'mon you’re a smart kid, you have to know that.”

peter sighs, kind of relieved, kind of stunned, kind of happy, kind of sad, and very tired. “i don’t fight in binders, i only did it this time because of the new suit. it’s so tight… they would have seen.”

tony makes a “hmmm” noise as he thinks, then he abruptly claps his hands together and moves towards the door. “i’ll sort that out. but right now i have places to be. happy is right next door if you need anything, and even though your healing factor is incredible i still wouldn’t over exert yourself. good job out there, kid.”

peter says thanks, but tony is already making his way out the door. everything feels kind of surreal. he looks at the binders and smiles.

Best Birthday - Smut

Originally posted by sarcasticallystilinski

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Dylan O’Brien/Reader
Words: 3,330
AN: Okay I’m late I’m sorry! This fic was to celebrate my favorite little nugget’s 26th birthday. It would have been here sooner but they just wouldn’t stop having sex? Sorry, not sorry.


You woke up, your boyfriend’s firm body pressed against your back, and you sighed in delight. You were so glad he was home, finally, after being away for so long with his hectic schedule. His nose was pressed against your shoulder, his deep, even breaths tickling along your skin. You pulled his arm tighter around your waist, and settled back, your eyes sliding shut as you tried to go back to sleep.

Keep reading

Bet || R.M.

Originally posted by alltimewolf

Word Count: 2095

Pairing: Ross!Reggie x reader

Summary: Chuck bets Reggie five hundred dollars to hook up with you, his tutor, and the outcome leaves you heartbroken.

Warnings: smut, fingering, cussing, unprotected sex, Reggie being a complete fuckboy, complete filth

Requested by anon:

“Hey Can you do a Reggie imagine where his bet that he couldn’t get the reader to go out with him. The reader is really pretty and awkward. So he tries and eventually falls in love with her. With a really fluffy ending. I know it’s cliché, haha.”

I kind of strayed off from the request, hope that’s okay! I might do a second part where it’s fluffier though!

Masterlist // Part Two


It was a normal day at Riverdale High. Reggie was walking down the hallway with his boys at his side like they always do in the morning. Reggie, on the outside, was the definition of a fuckboy. He was the new captain of the football team which inflated his ego even more and when he went partying, he went home with a different girl every time. You didn’t know him personally, but he had that reputation and his friends were the same way.

“Hey, Mantle,” Chuck said approaching Reggie at his locker, and placed his hand on Reggie’s shoulder before continuing, “Where were you last night? You missed a wild night of 7 minutes of heaven at the party last night.”

“Damn, I wish I was there. My mom is making me go to tutoring lessons, or I have to quit the football team.” Reggie scoffed, rolling his eyes as he closed his locker and leaned against it.

Chuck laughed lightly, “You should have skipped it last night. Cheryl’s party would have been ten times better than listening to some nerd go off by algebra.”

“I don’t know about that man; my tutor is pretty hot.” Reggie looked up and bit his lip trying to hold in a smirk.

“Oh, I get it now, Reggie has a thing for smart girls. Who is she?” Chuck inquired while slapping Reggie on the shoulder, laughing.

Reggie said your name and Chuck gave him a look, “Really, I heard she is hard to get with like she has never hooked up with one of the guys before.” Chuck was saying that you hadn’t shown up in their Playbook which was peculiar since most girls at Riverdale High have shown up at least once.

“I don’t know about that dude. You should have seen the way she was on me last night. We didn’t go very far, but I don’t think it would be hard to tap that.” Reggie was straight up lying to Chuck. You had not done anything at all, and you were not all over him like he was letting on. You were so wrapped up in the material you were trying to teach him, that you had just brushed off his flirts. This, of course, hurt Reggie that you had shown little interest in him, so it led him to lie about it to make himself feel better.

“Really, Mantle?” Chuck raised his eyebrow with a look of challenge in his eyes, “Well, I bet you can’t go all the way by the end of the football season.”

“Are really doubting me, Chuck? That hurts my feelings.” Chuck shrugged in response with the same look of mischief in his eyes, “Okay, I’ll take that bet, but when I do, you owe me five hundred dollars.”

“Deal Mantle,” Chuck said in confidence as he looked Reggie in the eyes.

That encounter had been seven days ago and ever since Reggie had been basically attached to your hip; he followed you around school and sat beside you in every class you had together, and you had no idea why he is suddenly being so clingy.

You were the opposite of the girls Reggie would go for. You were the quiet, shy girl who would sit in the front of the class eager to learn. You never went to parties or drank or even wore revealing clothing. You were the definition of a good girl.

However, you weren’t naïve. You knew when Reggie was coming on to you, and it left you flustered to no end, but you never let it show. Whenever he leaned against you to point at something in the textbook, your heart started to beat a million beats per second. Your body was betraying you. You had no wish to get with Reggie, but whenever he put his hand on your knee in class, you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

This tutoring session was no different than usual, however, Reggie was coming on to you strong. When you walked into Reggie’s empty house, he led you into his bedroom which was strange because you usually study in the kitchen.

You sat down on Reggie’s bed and started to open your textbook, “I was thinking that we could start with number-“

“Actually, tonight can we start with Chemistry” He inquired with a sly look on his face.

“Oh, I didn’t bring my chem books, but if you have yours then, of course, we could.” You were slightly confused as Reggie’s mom said that he only needed help in math.

Reggie scooted closer to you so your thighs were touching and his face was a couple of inches from yours, “No, I’m not talking about the subject, but the chemistry between you and me.”

The combination of Reggie’s smirk and his words had you completely shocked and your mouth was slightly open with fragments of words coming out.

“C’mon I see the way you look at me when I scoot closer to you. I know you feel something between us.” Reggie was inching his face closer with every word that left his mouth and you weren’t stopping him.

Reggie stopped centimeters from your lips and you felt his ragged breath fan against your face, “Don’t tell me don’t.” With that, you crashed your lips against his.

His lips were soft and plump against yours, and the kiss was full of urgency. Reggie swiped his tongue on your bottom lip before you opened your mouth and his tongue plunged in, exploring every inch. When Reggie finally pulled away, you were panting, but he seemed unaffected as he still had a smug smirk on his face.

He pushed you down on his bed and climbed on top of you while connecting his lips to your neck. You arched you back into the bed and let out a soft moan as his lips traveled to your sweet spot on the base of your neck.

“Babygirl, I’m going to make you feel so good.” He hummed as he pulled the collar of your classic white t-shirt lower to expose the top of your breasts.

You lifted off the bed slightly to pull your fitted shirt off your body so you were left in a nude lace bra. If you knew this would be happening tonight, you would have put on sexier underwear, but you were glad you decided to wear matching panties even if they weren’t the sexiest pair you owned.

“Damn, you’re so hot.” Reggie hummed against your skin as he dragged his lips down your torso. He tugged on the top of your jeans, signaling you to lift your butt up to help him undress you. You did as he wanted but pouted, “You’re wearing too much clothing.”

Reggie laughed under his breath and pulled his shirt over his head and gave you a look as to say, “Is this better?” You shook your head as you leaned up and started to work at his belt.

“No princess, not yet,” Reggie said with a teasing tone and pushed you down on the bed.

His lips attached to the top of your breasts again and the way he was sucking on them, there would surely be bruises there the next day. You laced your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly and Reggie let out a deep moan in response.

Reggie kept peppering kisses up and down your torso, but as soon as he would go down farther, he would stop and go back up. “Reggie, stop teasing me, I need you.” You whined.

“Use your words, tell me what you want.” Reggie coaxed as he brought his head up to yours to look in your eyes.

“Reggie,” You pleaded but he gave you a serious look, “I want your fingers.”

“Where?” Reggie teased, “Where do you want my fingers?”

You squirmed around and gave him a look of pure need before stating, “In my cunt. I need your fingers in my cunt please, Reggie.”

“Your wish is my command,” Reggie said biting his bottom lip before pulling your panties to the side and plunging one finger into your soaking cunt. You let out a low grunt as he went knuckle deep. When the grunt left your lips, Reggie added another finger, and you moaned his name loudly.

He started to pump his fingers and you felt a small knot form in the pit of your stomach, “Tell me how this feels baby.”

“It feels fucking amazing, don’t stop, please.” You stuttered as you couldn’t think straight with pure pleasure clouding your brain.

Reggie bent his fingers up into your cunt and he hit your sweet spot. Your body jerked up as he assaulted that spot and a mix of cuss words and his name left your mouth.

“Fuck, Reg, I’m close.” You panted and you barely finished your sentence before you felt an emptiness where his warm fingers were. You started to whine as you opened your eyes to see Reggie fully exposed and on top of you.

“I want you to come around my cock tonight, Babygirl,” Reggie said in a dark tone before lining himself up with your entrance.

He looked into your eyes almost to ask if you were ready before slowly pushing his large member into your cunt. Your mouth fell open as he stretched your walls out, and he didn’t start moving for a few seconds to let you adjust to his size.

He started out moving slow and as your moans got louder, it encouraged him to go faster. He started to slam into you and you swore you could see stars. You could tell he was also feeling the same intense pleasure as his eyebrows were scrunched and he had a look of concentration on his face.

“I’m close Reggie, fuck.” You moaned and placed your head into the crook of his neck.

A couple more thrusts later, Reggie was as close as you were as he became more vocal, saying your name and how much you felt good wrapped around him.

“Come for me baby, shit.” He mumbled into your ear and his words sent you over the edge. An intense feeling of pleasure took over and your orgasm pulsed through your whole body.

Not soon after had Reggie also let go into you. He continued to sloppily thrust into you so you both could ride out your orgasms.

Reggie rolled off your body and laid next to you, out of breath, “Fuck, that was amazing.”

You smiled to yourself as you let out a hum in agreement.


The next day, you were glowing. You never had felt so good; you were having a good hair and skin day and woke up in a great mood. The only slightly bad thing was that you had left your textbooks at Reggie’s house because you weren’t focused on your books at all when you left his house at midnight last night.

You decided to find Reggie before class started to see if he had brought your books with him to school. You went straight to the boy’s locker room since that’s where all the football players went before class started.

However, you stopped yourself before walking in when you heard Reggie’s voice.

“Where is my five hundred dollars?” Reggie said to someone you couldn’t see.

“What? No way you hit that this quickly.” It was Chuck Clayton, one of Reggie’s best friends. Why did Chuck owe him that much money, you thought?

“Dude, all I had to do was say some shit like “don’t you feel the connection between us” and she was putty in my hands.” Reggie laughed and you felt your heart break, but couldn’t bring yourself to stop listening.

“Damn, Mantle. Was she any good? Should I go for her next?” Chuck said and you felt a tear fall down your cheek.

“She was basically begging me to fuck her, and when I finally did, she was tight as fuck. Honestly, 10/10 would fuck again. She’s still my tutor, so I think actually might.” You heard both boys laugh and footsteps heading toward the door.

At the last second, you ran down the hallway, tears blurring your vision.  You didn’t care if anyone saw you crying, you were so upset with yourself that you had fallen for Reggie’s tricks.

Reggie had put a price tag of a measly five hundred dollars on you and you played into his trap. He was five hundred dollars richer and you were completely blindsided and heartbroken.

a/n- school is officially out for me so expect a lot more imagines for the next couple of months. Also, don’t forget I’m always taking requests so send some to my inbox if you want something specific! I think I might start trying to upload twice a week, once on Sunday and on Thursday. One day would be an imagine and the other would be part of a fic! So send me what you think of this schedule and also how you liked this imagine because I love when I get your feedback!

Dead Serious Part 3

A/N: LOL SORRY I DIDNT POST THIS SOONER I WAS WATCHING SPIDERMAN HOMECOMING FOR THE FOURTH TIME. ANYWays So I kind of started this with the ending of part 2. Enjoy this smut you smut reading potatoes (you’re not potatoes, you’re all very lovely. i’m also a smut reading potato). Creds to the Periodic Table song for helping me remember the order of all the elements.

Word Count: 1441

Warnings: LOL MORE SMUT

Masterlist

Part 1 //  Part 2

T-11 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEMISTRY EXAM

“So, is the next step studying or something else?” You asked

“I feel like the next step would be you reciting your notes to me while I went down on you,” Peter said.

“All of my notes?”

Peter moved so he was hovering over top of you.

“Fine, Y/N, I’m going to eat you out and you’re going to recite the periodic table to me,”

You weren’t sure whether you should begin reciting it in your head, knowing you would lose focus once Peter put his lips on you.

Peter placed his lips on your neck, peppering sloppy, wet kisses down towards your chest. Peter’s hand moved around to try and unclasp your bra.

He continued kiss down your neck, fumbling with your bra.

“Need some help there, lover boy?”

Peter pulled away “I-I I’ve never…”

“I know, it’s okay,” You smiled, placing a light kiss on his lips.

You leaned up, and reached around behind your back to unclasp your bra. As soon as it was unclasped, Peter peeled it off your shoulders and tossed it across the room.

Peter moved to place one hand over your breast, kneading it, while his mouth moved to the other. The ran his tongue over your nipple, causing you to let out a small moan.

You ran your hands along Peter’s bare back, knowing your scratch marks would be there tomorrow.

Peter moved his hands towards the waist band of your pants, he swiftly slipped your pants off, reaching down to get the past your ankles.

He continued down, pressing kisses along your stomach.

Peter kissed the edge of your panties, using his hands to spread your legs apart.

“I think it’s about time you started reciting those elements, Y/N,”

You took in a deep breathe as Peter ran a finger down the front of your panties,

“Hydrogen,”

“Damn, Y/N, you’re soaking wet,”

“Helium,”

Peter leaned down and licked the front of your panties. You arched your back up, moaning.

“Lithium,”

Peter slid his hand under your back and lifted you just enough to slide off your underwear.

“Beryllium,”

Peter lifted your leg, and placed his over his shoulder.

“Boron,”

Peter places a light kiss against your clit, causing you to twitch.

“Carbon,”

Peter been running his tongue over your clit in long, slow strokes.

“Nitrogen,” you gasped, and reached down to grab Peter’s hair.

Your other hand was making fists around the sheets on Peter’s bed.

Peter felt your body shaking, so he teased his tongue back and forth, his tongue moving slower and slower.

“Oxygen,”

You moved the leg that was over Peter’s shoulder to wrap around his neck, using it to pull him closer to you.

“Fluorine,”

You began breathing harder. Peter moved his tongue to your entrance, lapping up the wetness that was spilling out.

“Neon,”

You began panting, pushing your hips up.

“Sodium,”

Peter moved his attention back to your clit, ad he teased a finger in and out of you.

“Magnesium,”

Peter slid another finger into you, and began moving them around.

You were moaning. Your leg tightened around Peter, and your grip on his hair got tighter with each lick on your clit.

You were struggling to talk, making the naming of elements difficult.

Suddenly Peter stopped. He moved his head away from you and slid his fingers out of you.

“No, Peter, please,” you begged

Peter licked his fingers,  “The deal was that you name the elements, and darling, I have to say it’s been quite a while since you’ve said anything,”

“Take it as a compliment, Parker. Your lips are so good that you’ve left me speechless,”

Peter began peppering kisses on your inner thighs, “Just start where you left off, darling,”

You’d didn’t want to give in to Peter, but you needed his mouth on you badly.

“Aluminium,”

Peter smiled and quickly moved his mouth back towards your pussy.

“Silicone,”

Peter started sucking on your clit, causing you to moan and thrust your hips towards him.

“Chlorine,”

Peter worked his tongue down, sucking on your lips and spreading you open with his fingers.

“Fuck!” You moaned

“Phosphorus,” you quickly said, remembering that Peter would stop if you stopped.

Peter worked his fingers in and out of you as he teased his tongue over your clit.

“S-sulphur,”

You clenched the bedsheets underneath you, and grabbed a fistful of Peter’s hair with the other hand. You brought your other leg up to wrap around Peter’s head.

“Chl-orine,” you choked out.

Peter pressed his mouth tight against you, flicking his tongue against your clit as he started thrusting his fingers into you harder.

“Arg-argon,”

His tongue was darting around wildly, causing you to arch your back, moaning like crazy.

“Po-pot-potassium,”

Peter latched down hard on your clit, flicking his tongue around in circles. Bringing another finger up to thrust into you.

“Cal-cium,”

You began clenching against Peter’s fingers inside you.

“Scandium,” you breathed

You were groaning every time Peter moved his tongue, he could feel the wetness dripping out of you onto his fingers.

“Ti-ti-ti-titanium,”

Peter pressed down on your clit with his tongue, you pushed your hips up, only forcing him in more.

You thrust your hips once more and suddenly you were coming. Peter began licking the cum that was dripping out of you.

Peter rubbed your clit one last time before pulling away.

“Peter,” you moaned.

You could still feel your orgasm surging through you.

You began to loosen your grip on Peter’s hair, and his bedsheets. You lied back, sinking into Peter’s pillow.

“Fuck, Peter,” you said.

Peter chuckled and came to lie down beside you.

He placed a kiss on your cheek as you continued to come down from your orgasm.

“You didn’t make it through all the elements,”

“I made it through 22. I think that’s pretty good,” you breathed.

“But you didn’t get through all 118, which just means that we’ll just have to go again,”

You turned to look at Peter.

“Are you serious?” You asked.

“Dead serious,” Peter smiled, brining his hand down to lightly swirl around your clit.

“Pick up where you left off, darling,”

“Vanadium,”

T-2 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

You woke up next to Peter, wearing only his t shirt and your underwear. Peter had thrown on his boxers the night before after you had recited much more than just the Periodic Table (*cough* you recited his name over and over and over because damn).

Peter’s alarm was blaring and you leaned over to hit snooze.

“Pete,” you said, shaking him lightly.

“Noooo, I don’t want to get up,” he mumbled into his pillow, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Peter, we’ll be late for the midterm,”

“I mean I guess we did kinda study really hard,”

You laughed, “c’mon Parker, we’re gonna be late,”

You placed a kiss on Peter’s forehead, and then rolled out of bed.

T-1 HOUR UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

You ended up walking out of Peter’s house in the same pants as the day before topped with one of Peter’s sweaters. You actually felt very prepared for the exam. Usually before exams you would spend hours on end studying but by the next morning you would forget everything. Last night was something you definitely would not forget.

T-2 HOURS AFTER THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

At lunch you came to sit down with Peter and Ned.

“Hey, Y/N,” Ned said.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter smiled.

You smiled at Peter, and sat down across from him.

“Okay, what’s going on here?” Ned asked.

“OH MY GOD SOMETHING HAPPENED ON YOUR STUDY DATE!” Ned exclaimed, not letting you answer his initial question.

“I mean, we studied,” you said.

“Yeah, Y/N, spent a long time reciting the periodic table to me,”

You blushed when Peter said that, a small smile creeping up on your face.

“Peter,”

“SOMETHING TOTALLY HAPPENED. Y/N IS EVEN WEARING PETER’S SWEATER,”

You and Peter didn’t say anything, only exchanged a small glance.

“Please tell me what happened guys,”

“Can’t,” you said.

“Are you serious?” Ned asked.

“Dead serious,” Peter said, smiling at you.


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