but for me the third one where he strokes her little arm

Triggered (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Request: Bucky and reader were alone together in the tower but HYDRA attacks them and reads the words to make him go all winter soldier mode. He severely injures reader because they tell him to and when he comes to she’s beaten to the brink of death. He feels super bad and is locked away from everyone else b/c he’s “dangerous” and everyone on the team is pretty upset but she gets over it really fast and tries to make him feel better and everyone else not angry anymore but it doesn’t work. Angst please?

Bucky was your friend. He was your best friend and he would never hurt you.  The thought alone made you laugh in its sheer and utter ridiculousness. The two of you cuddled on the couch together during scary movie nights, made the worst messes in the kitchen when it was your night to cook, and answered his call when the nightmares were just a bit too much to take.  He had been your champion against dates gone wrong, meeting them at the tower’s main door as they dropped you off after terrible nights, his metal arm and clenched fist in clear view just to drive his point home.  In return, you had told off more than one random woman as you walked the busy streets of Manhattan during days out, tearing down their shameless advances and stares that lasted a little too long, despite his clear discomfort with it.  

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She has no throne. Girls without thrones should not have knights, but hers won’t go. Princess Zelda – the girl who killed Calamity – would love to fade into legend, but Link’s bought a house, he’s fighting off monsters, and he’s selling giant horses to strangely familiar Gerudo men. She’ll never have any peace now. (ao3)  

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The Secret (e)

prologue; part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve; part thirteen; epilogue.


[a/n: if you click on the lyrics, the song will play]


The credits rolled on the second Disney movie of the evening, signalling the bedtime of Baekhyun’s own little princess.

“I think that was my favourite,” Baekhyun exclaimed enthusiastically, stretching out his arms and legs before hugging his daughter against his side. In truth, all the princess films he had been made to watch since finding out he had a daughter were starting to blur together into handsome princes, catchy singing and good triumphing over evil. However, the Disney torture was bearable because of the smile it put on Zoe’s face.

Like the one she was beaming at him right now.

“Really Daddy?” she asked brightly, turning on the spot to face him properly and curl up like a little puppy.

Baekhyun ran his delicate fingers down her rosy cheek, smoothing her hair back off her face. “Definitely in the top ten,” he replied, beaming down at her with an ecstatic smile.

Zoe looked down at her hands, nibbling on her bottom lip like she was nervous about something. Like she had something to say.

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kapower  asked:

I'm a slut for your writing so how about like a progession from 52,73,151, to 184? If not, any of the above would be adorbs in your writing bae😙💕

Thunderstorm Revelations

Pairing; Nalu

Word Count; 2417

A/N; BAE I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMFG. But thanks for the prompt!! <3

52: “ Can we cuddle? ”

73: “ Oh, Are you ticklish? ”

151: “ I can’t feel my legs! ”

184: “ Can I touch you? ”

Natsu sat in the center of the sofa, one of Lucy’s books perched on his knee as he flipped through it absentmindedly. Lucy was always weird about him reading her stuff, and so he tried to wait until at least the third draft before sneaking a look at it. Lucy had been in a rut, however, and so Natsu was forced to reread her previous chapters to fend off his boredom.

Magnolia was all but shut down under the heavy thunderstorm outside, Lucy and Natsu trapped in her apartment on Strawberry Street as it had been closer than the guild. She had sent a lacrima message to the guild, letting everyone know her and Natsu were safe but wouldn’t be going to the guild that day. Happy had been especially upset, needing to be talked down from flying through the storm by Lucy. Natsu had been forced to bribe the exceed with the promise of all of Natsu’s catch next time they went fishing.

Natsu sighed loudly, leaning his head against the back of Lucy’s sofa and closing his eyes. She had been drying off for forever, and Natsu didn’t understand why he couldn’t have just dried her off himself. Lucy was so weird she had squawked and turned bright red at his offer, and now she was wasting time drying her hair when they could be playing cards.

A loud boom outside caught Natsu’s attention, the thunder harsh and sudden when he wasn’t watching the flashes of lighting outside the window. The lights flickered overhead, Natsu mentally threatening them if they went out. Lucy got all antsy in the dark with him, which bothered Natsu. She knew he would never try anything, didn’t she?

Besides, it wasn’t like Lucy was even aware of how Natsu felt.

Natsu cocked his head, tracking the soft padding of Lucy’s socked feet walking towards him.

Another crack of thunder rang in the sky, and Natsu opened his eyes with a frown when he sensed Lucy tense beside him. She looked pale, half dried hair thrown in a messy braid and large shirt trailing to her mid thigh.

“Can we cuddle?” Lucy asked, voice timid as she looked at her hands clasped in front of her. Natsu opened his mouth to ask her why she wanted to cuddle when a third boom shook the small apartment, Lucy flinching and curling into herself at the noise.

“Course, weirdo.” Natsu said instead, grinning at her easily. She smiled at him, shy and thankful in response as she slipped onto the couch beside him. Natsu shifted them around, his back now tucked into the corner of the couch and Lucy curled under his arm. She squeaked and pressed into his side firmly when the power shut off, the room falling into pitch blackness while the sky roared.

Natsu ran a comforting hand over Lucy’s back, soothing her small shakes as he tried to think. It had never occurred to Natsu that Lucy might be afraid of thunderstorms, and frankly he didn’t know what to say.

“You, er, alright, Luce?” Natsu asked, watching her face in the dark. The pale light coming from the window behind them was all Natsu needed to easily see in the room, but obviously from the unfocused expression she wore it wasn’t enough for Lucy.

“I’m fine Natsu. Just… don’t like thunder.” Lucy tried to brush off, but another loud crack of thunder sent her head burrowing into Natsu’s chest in fear.

“I think it’s more than a little dislike there, Luce.” Natsu commented dryly, tightening his arm around her and pulling her closer as he spoke.

“Oh shut up.” Lucy exhaled, hand relaxing as she bickered with Natsu. He grinned to himself, proud his plan had worked. He tensed as he sensed the change in the atmosphere, squeezing Lucy tight as a flash of lightning lit up the room, quickly followed by the booming thunder. Natsu looked over her face, tracing the tired pinching and tenseness she held on her face, thinking she was concealed by the dark.

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Been Doing This For Hours Alpha Bucky x Reader NSFW

Warning: NSFW, Lesbian Smut, Straight Smut, ABO, lactating fetish

Request: You’re an unclaimed Omega and Alpha Bucky has agreed to help you through your heat. Unfortunately, he’s out on a mission, so someone else will just have to help you until he gets back.


A soft mewling noise caught Natasha’s attention. The sudden scent of coffee and freshly printed books, filled her nose and wrapped its way around her brain. She could smell your scent, your body craving the Alpha that had left days earlier.
“Bucky,” you whined into the phone, choking on your words as the desire between your legs grew stronger and the pain worsened. “Please pick up! I’m in heat and…I need you.”
The last three words were a whispered plea, begging him to come home and help ease the ache between your thighs. You were an unclaimed Omega and Bucky had agreed to help you through your heat, but now he was gone. Nat entered your room slowly. She could see you curled up in your nest of pillows and blankets, fingers delving into your panties. She could hear your little pants and moans, every sound that slipped from between your kissable lips. She could tell that your fingers weren’t enough, that you needed an Alpha. A loud whimper left your mouth as you felt your breasts swelling to feed the pups you didn’t have. The only thought running through Nat’s mind, was you needed her. That maybe she could help satisfy your need and her own as well. Attempting to snap herself away, she left the room, slamming the door behind her to block out your smell. Your head shot towards the door as it closed and you caught the familiar sent of an Alpha. Nat smelled of honeysuckles and a camp fire, the smell lingering behind her and you let out a loud yelp; desperate for her to come back.
Nat was already halfway down the hall, when she ran into Steve. One look in his eyes and she could tell he smelled you too.
“She’s lying there touching herself and whimpering like crazy. It’s taking all my will power not to go in there and help her,” Nat growled at Steve. “You need to go call Bucky, before it gets any worse.”
Steve nodded, hurrying off to Tony’s lab to use the secure phone.
“Nat!” Came a loud moan and she felt her resolve snap. Within seconds she was standing over your bed. Watching your fingers, already coated with your slick, move in and out of your pussy. She towered over you and you mewled softly, calling out her name again as you came.
“Y/N, did you enjoy that? Teasing me? Calling out my name as you came all over those dirty little fingers of yours?” She has shed her clothes and moved to rest on top of you. Pinning you to the bed as her fingers ran their way up your thigh and traced their way around your leaking breasts.
“Yes, Alpha!” You gasped out as her lips found your sensitive nipples and began suckling.
“Do you want me to help you? Do you want this Alpha to take you? Pleasure you?”
You moaned loudly at the feeling of her mouth working your sensitive buds, arching your back so you pushed your breast further into her face. She stopped sucking and pulled away, a smirk finding its way on her lips.
“I asked you a question.”
“Yes!” You pleaded. “Please Alpha, take me! I’m yours to use, please just help me.”
That’s what Nat was waiting for, she slid down your body. Peppering your thighs with kisses and tasting you on her tongue. She slid a single finger into you and couldn’t help but laugh at the noise that exited your mouth.
“More!” You begged, twitching your hips for more friction. She smirked against your clit, nipping at it ever so slightly and slid another finger into your soaked heat. You were so wet, she didn’t have to work long before she slid in a third finger. Curling them, so every stroke resulted in her fingers brushing against your g-spot. The loudest moan she’d ever heard tumbled from your lips as your walls clenched around her fingers. The next four hours were spent with Nat trying as many techniques as she could to get you to orgasm.
“Fuck!” The growl from the doorway was one of lust at the sight that was before him. Nat got up from her position, face buried in your slit, with a smirk, hips swaying as she walked past Bucky.
“She’s all yours now, I’ve been doing this for four hours.”
She got dressed and left the room, leaving Bucky to stare at your naked form writhing on the bed.
“Alpha!” You moaned out, reaching your hands out for him. He was beside you in a second, replacing the spot where Nat’s tongue had been with his fingers.
“God you’re soaked,” he growled into your neck. “Do you want me to knot you now? You’ve waited an awfully long time, huh? Do you want your alpha to fuck you senseless?”
You nodded mutely, grinding down on his fingers.
“I can’t hear you,” Bucky snapped, your smell enveloping him and creating the raw desire to have you squirming beneath him in pleasure. His eyes found your lactating breasts and his breath caught in his throat, he’d never seen you lactate on a heat before.
“Yes Alpha!! Please take me! Please knot your Omega. She’s been waiting for you to come home and claim her.”
Unable to withstand the urge any longer, Bucky replaced his fingers with his cock and slid into you easily. Your slick coated him as you arched your back into him and curled your toes. A whimpering mess beneath him. He loved it. In fact he thrived on it, this feeling of being buried inside of you as you came undone. He could feel how close you were as he thrust into you, picking up his speed.
“Cum, my Omega,” he growled, kissing pathways down your skin. His lips found your nipples and he sucked on them, playing with them between his teeth. You moaned his name repeatedly as you came, feeling him twitch inside you and his knot form. He moved you so he was sitting and you were on his lap, careful not to remove his knot from in you as he didn’t want to cause you pain.
“I love you, James,” you murmured, head against his chest, too tired to move. You could feel his metal arm pressed against your back, soothing your burning skin.
“I love you too, Y/N.”

Daddy’s treasures.

Hi there! This is a short blurb that came to my mind today morning and I needed to bring it to life (It involves dad Harry, and, who doesn’t love dad Harry?)

A reminder: Requests are opened

Enjoy :) !!!



“Daddy, it’s my turn to hide. Close your eyes.” The three year-old girl giggled as she grabbed her father’s hands and tried to bring them to his eyes “C’mon daddy, help me! your hands are very big.” Harry chuckled at the cute little frown settled on her chubby face, as she shook his arms in impatience “Okay, okay.” He obeyed his daughter’s demand, thinking to himself that bossiness was one of the many features she had inherited from her mother, you. The next thing he sensed was the continuous sound of her tiny shoes hitting against the grass, as she run towards her next hiding spot.

You were sitting in a deck chair, looking over the scrapbook Harry had made for your third year as a mother. The paper squares that captured your first steps as parents of a beautiful baby girl, along with the cheesy captions written below, melted your heart. You were so captivated by the images, that the sudden snuggle from your daughter made you flinch “Hey sweetie, what are you doing?” She didn’t give any answer, instead, she curled up in the gap your cross-legged position offered. “Sydney, what’s up, could you tell Mommy?” “I’m hiding from Daddy. He’ll never find me.“ You couldn’t help but laugh when she playfully stuck out her tongue.   

“Are you ready Syd?” Harry shouted from one corner of the garden, to which she replied with a loud, long “Yep!” He got up from his sitting position and stretched his limbs before heading to look for his princess “Mmmm, where can you be?” he muttered as he moved his head from one side to the other, scanning the area. A wide dimpled grin made its home in his face when he spotted a mess of little curls in between your legs. As he got nearer to you both, the high innocent giggles of the child became better audible, confirming his guess. “Mommy is he around?” Sydney whispered, playing with the ties of you shorts. You looked at Harry, biting your lip in an attempt to not chuckle, in return, he winked at you “Love, have you got any idea of where our baby is?” “No, not at all” You felt Sydney leave a light kiss on your thigh, thanking you for not giving her away “She’s really good at this, isn’t she?” “Absolutely” Harry crawled silently until he was right beside the improvised nest your legs made for your daughter. Sydney didn’t even notice as she was too distracted with the colourful ties “Hold on Love, I… think… I… found her!” He took her out from where her small figure rested and rose her up to the sky. The chocolate-eyed girl kicked her legs in the air as loud guffaws broke out from her mouth. When she landed she run towards you to give you a hug “Thanks for helping me Mommy, I love ya.” She spread little kisses all over your face.

The sight Harry had right in front of his eyes brought him goosebumps. Before Sydney’s arrival, three years ago, he didn’t think he could be happier than he was just with you. He reckoned he was at peak of most joy in his life, that nothing was left. Then his little angel came into his life and proved him wrong. The first time he holded her in between his arms his heartbeat rose like never before. Everything about her was tiny and delicate and he couldn’t believe how such a small creature could bring that huge amount of happiness and love. You weren’t less for him; bliss stepped first into his life thanks to you. You two met at college, where he came from an environment of hate and harassment towards him in behalf of his classmates, in other words, he had been bullied. You helped him get over that dark past and returned him the confidence he had lost. You loved him when he was at his lowest and took him out of the spiral of sadness he was in. You were his most beautiful and valuable treasure until Sydney showed up, then she joined the club.

He felt the luckiest man in the world.

That was when he decided to bring the idea constantly settled at the back of his mind to life.

“My loves, I’ll be right back.”

[Few days later]

Harry came back from another day at the park with Sydney. He was placing all the toys they took with them back in their box when she let go of his grip and run to the garden where you were swimming “Baby girl be careful, don’t run that fast.” He interrupted his activity to look after her “Daddy let’s join Mommy, pleaaase.” She begged with puppy eyes “Yeah Hazz, what are you waiting for?” you insisted.

He grabbed Sydney by the hand and took her to her room where he changed her clothing for a swimsuit; he later did the same with his. 

Once in his father’s arms, she noticed a foreign spot in the middle of his clean skin “Daddy, what’s that? Did you stain yourself playing with the markers?” She touched the words with her silky pads “No sweetie. It’s a tattoo.” She gave him a confused look “It’s something you draw on your skin which, most of the times, is meaningful” She brought her thumb to her mouth as she studied it “Have you got any idea of what it is?” “Of course Daddy, I’m a very clever girl.” He chuckled “Okay tell me” The naive child opened her eyes wide, as she realised she hadn’t an answer “Ehh… I dunno.” He gave a loving stroke to her cheek and later placed a kiss on it “It’s yours and Mommy’s name. And it’s located at the area where my heart is because you both are always in my heart.” She blushed and nuzzled in his chest, giggling “I like it very much.” He tickled her tummy,

“And you know what? the best part is that it’ll last forever, just as my love for you two”


MASTERLIST.

Choices - Part 2: I Bet My Life

Characters: Y/N (reader), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mich Davis, Arthur Ketch, Castiel, Garth and Beth Fitzgerald (mentioned)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: torture (not all that graphic), implied smut, secrets,

Word Count: 3900ish

A/N: This is 1 out of my 13 entries for @mamapeterson / @mrs-squirrel-chester’s Album Fanfiction Challenge where I chose the album “Smoke and Mirrors” by Imagine Dragons. The song prompt for this fic is: I Bet My Life

It is part two of a three part story - the two first fics are entries for the same challenge and the third is gonna be an entry for @plaidstiel-wormstache’s Push yourself challenge. The song I am writing for, for her challenge is also an Imagine Dragons song so their music is gonna be a theme throughout this series.

Thanks so much to always brilliant @blacktithe7 for betaing this for me.

MASTERLIST

You had lost track of time. You had no idea how long you had been in this white room with a single mirror on the far wall. You also didn’t care. You just stared defiantly at the mirror. You knew it was a window and the brits that had taken you were hiding behind it, plotting your fate. All you cared about was staying alive, staying the distraction for as long as it took for them to get far, far away. You would never tell them anything.

At first, the british guy with the weird beard had tried. He talked to you, asking you questions. You never answered. You just sat there staring at him, soaking up his every word without as much as flinching. He didn’t know anything. You had nothing to fear.

Well that wasn’t exactly true. What came after the first brit was another. Clean shaven, dead eyes, and with no empathy what so ever. He beat you with your hands tied behind your back, but you kept getting back up. You placed yourself back in the chair, looking defiantly back up at him, only to let out a painful scream when he jammed the needle into your neck with a cold grin on his face.

You slipped off the chair, passing out cold on the floor cold. You had no way of knowing how long you had been out for when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.

“Y/N. Hey, Y/N/N. Come back to me baby.” Dean gently stroked your hair away from your face, making you force your eyes open.

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potterlocked16  asked:

Hiii. I love you writing, it is so good! I was wondering if you could write/ if you know a fic in which Draco gets really jealous of someone hitting on Harry and starts acting all possesive and shit? :D

OMG thank you so so much!! :) You’re so sweet! ❤️️
Um, here’s the thing: I am awful at fic recs? I’m so sorry? So I hope you don’t mind I just wrote you a little something? ❤️️❤️️❤️️


“This is getting ridiculous, Draco,” Pansy said as she murmured the incantation to heal Draco’s palm. Draco said nothing. He was still gritting his teeth. As soon as Pansy was finished, he snatched his hand out of her grip.

“Thanks a lot,” he said waspishly.

“Hey, I’m not the one who made you smash that glass. Show a little more gratitude. You’re being a brat,” she said with a scowl.

“Nobody made me smash that glass. The glass was… fragile.” Draco mentally rolled his eyes at himself.

“Right,” Pansy replied flatly. She looked over her shoulder and Draco couldn’t help but follow her gaze. His eyes landed on Potter, sitting at the bar and chatting animatedly with some bloke. Draco balled his hands into fists. This seemed to be his natural reaction to seeing Potter like this. It was how he had accidentally smashed that glass he had been holding.

“I need another drink,” Draco muttered. Pansy’s head snapped back around.

“Oh no, you don’t. Don’t go over there. You’ll embarrass yourself.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Draco growled as he watched the bloke stroking Potter’s arm. This was it. Now he definitely had to go over there.

“Draco,” Pansy called after him, but there was no stopping him now.

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#001

Pairing: Kang Daniel/reader (third person)

Word count: 3,775

Rating: 18+ for language, vanilla sexual content, cat facts and shitty jokes/outdated memes

Summary: It’s the hottest day of the year but that’s not to say that things can’t get hotter

A/N: This is just self-indulgent, unedited porn because the thirst is too fucking real my dudes

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Puppy

Reader x Stiles Stilinski

(NOT MY GIF)

*Requested

Imagine: You go to a meeting at Scott’s house, to discuss over the new Beacon Hills’ new threat. There you bump into Peter Hale, who you deeply dislike, because he has precious information. But he makes the mistake of threatening Stiles, your boyfriend, and this get wild.

Word Count: 2252

The clock in your bedroom stroke seven P.M., letting you know you were terribly late for today’s meeting, which had been scheduled by Scott almost a week ago. And, if you knew McCall right, which you did, the boy would probably be plotting a way to rip your head off for not having enough commitment (you also feared for your ears) towards the pack issues. Like he did every single bloody time.

“Mum? I’m leaving!”

“May I know where are you going?”

“Scott’s.” You replied, softly, while grabbing your keys. “Don’t worry, I won’t be gone long. It’s just a couple of hours.”

“That’s exactly what you said last time! Y/N… Are you, like, seeing him? Or whatever you teens call it this days? Because it’s okay, he’s actually a good kid and…”

What the heck?” Your voice came out quickly and as a high pitched sound. “Oh, God, no. Absolutely no.”

“You two spend too much time together, I just assumed…”

“Well, you’re wrong. He’s just a good friend who happens to need my help in, ah, biology.” You blurted out, finding some lame excuse to explain why you would be at his home.

“Oh, I’m sorry. So guys have been studying together this whole time?”

“Yeah, totally. He was almost failing.”

Of course lying to your mum was bad and, since the beginning, when you were turned into a werewolf, you truly desired to come clean with her about everything. However, Scott told you it would be better, and safer, if she did not know. Pondering a little, it was pretty clear that he was right. The woman would probably have a stroke or worse: send you to Eichen House believing her poor daughter had lost her mind. Considering both scenarios were bad, you chose wisely and stayed quiet.

“If it’s that bad, then you shouldn’t be wasting time talking to me. Go!”

“Thank you, beautiful!”

“And by the way, if I were you, I’d totally go for Scott. He’s hot!”

“Mum, you’re married!” Your eyes widened upon hearing the comment and you had hold in a laugh.

“So what? I’m married, not blind.”

“And that’s my cue to leave. Bye!”

“Be careful out there!”

You walked out of the house silently and went straight to the car, not having enough guts to agree with your mum. Even though she was not aware of your double life, being a supernatural creature meant you would always be a target to the bad guys and your life would always be at stake. So, definitely, “safety” was promise you could not live up to.

“This is not a good time to feel guilty about helping other people, Y/N.” You said to yourself, tightening the grip around the steering wheel.

Although McCall’s house was not far from yours, getting there alone was legit challenge. The road was dark and thin rain began to pour, which got your senses all crazy. Perhaps it was because a two hundred bad ass werewolf was running around in town and no one had clue on how to stop it.

A small sigh slipped, knowing that was, doubtless, tonight’s discussion subject. The third time in the week they gathered to share information and no one had a single thing to say. Not even Stiles, who could never shut his mouth up. Matter fact, sometimes you had to kiss him for it to happen, otherwise… Oh, and yes, he was your boyfriend. Sort of. Argh, it was complicated.

Without further warning, your phone began to rang loudly, scaring the hell out of you and forcing your return to reality.

“Uh, hi?”

Y/N, where, for God’s sake, are you?” An angry alpha shouted.

“Don’t worry, Scotty. I’m already outside, just give me two minutes to park.”

We’ve talked about this before and you keep letting it happen.

“Oh, don’t be so mad. I just got caught up in some family drama!” You said, finally finding a spot near his house to park your car. “Apparently, my mum thinks you’re hot.”

What?!” He squeaked, nervous, and you simply laughed. “Are you serious?

“Oh, yeah. She thought we were dating and when I said we’re not, well, the words ‘I’d go for Scott’ may have slipped.”

While you walked towards his house, shaking from the rain, you heard him repeat the word “God” at least twenty times, which made a tiny giggle escape. It was hard not to laugh when Scott got nervous.

I still can’t believe this.

“Then don’t.” You shrugged. “Come open up the door for me.”

The phone suddenly went mute and was exchanged by sounds of feet thumping against the floor, clumsily, which indicated that it was Stiles who was coming. Your heart warmed up, thrilling with the idea of being with him again after so many hours split. If it was up to you, there was no time in the day you would be apart from Stilinski. And you knew he felt exactly the same way every time he pulled you into his warmth.

“Hey, you.” Stilinski whispered, winking.

“Hey.”

Your story with that brown haired boy was long and complicated, because not long ago he was madly in love with Lydia Martin, one of your best friends too. They had a kind of love you did not want to get in the middle of it, despite the pain you had to face all those times you saw him chase her down or hear him talk about the red hair over and over. However, as your friendship grew stronger, those feelings began to be left behind, opening up space for something new. Something neither of you could understand at its fullest.

“Are you in there?” Stiles asked, intertwining your fingers with one hand and the other was stroking your cheek.

“Oh, yeah. I just missed you, love.”

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Blue Silk Pajamas

Have another stereotypical Marichat kiss scene, dang these are addicting to read and write.

They’re 18 in this one though, I don’t think those kids should be sneaking around kissing each other in the dark yet. XD

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Here’s that fic I wrote that I don’t like.  It’s untitled, but it’s inspired by the song Unanswered Prayers by Garth Brooks.


Even though the sun hasn’t quite reached halfway to its zenith, the day is already hot enough that Dean is eyeing the pond on the far side of the park with serious consideration.  The fact that it’s brown and muddy, and the surrounding land is torn up by ducks and geese and stinks of bird shit is only slightly off putting.  Which means he’s either suffering from heat stroke, because gross, or it’s time to head over to the lemonade stand for some cold liquid refreshment.

“Hey, babe?”  He calls over his shoulder.

“Hm?”

“I’m going to get a lemonade.  Want one?”

“Get me one with raspberries?”

Dean smiles.  “You bet.  Back in a few.”

Before he leaves the shade under the awning, he presses a kiss to a warm cheek.  He gets a distracted smile in response, but doesn’t stick around for more.  He’s caught in the siren song coming from the stand at the other end of the Farmer’s Market that sells fresh squeezed lemonade.  His mouth is already watering at the thought.

It’s even hotter outside the shade, and he can feel the sun’s heat sinking into his shoulders and arms, making him glad he remembered sunscreen this week.  He’ll probably still end up with a slew of new freckles, though.  At least there’s a slight breeze cooling his skin where it’s bared by his shorts and tank top.  He plucks at his shirt, encouraging a little air circulation under the sweat-damp material.  

The line at the lemonade stand isn’t too long, at least.  He steps up behind the others waiting their turn, and hums under his breath, letting his mind wander over the latest notes he’d received from his editor.  It’s a little frustrating that he’s going to have to cut a scene he’d been planning for so long, but also a relief that Charlie agrees with his decision.  As usual he’d gotten caught up in writer’s block due to being stubborn about the direction of the story, but after talking it out with her, his mind is already racing ahead to the next five scenes.

He’s almost to the front of the line when a voice he hasn’t heard in years breaks him from his musings.

“Dean?”

“Lisa?”  Dean grins as he turns to greet her.  “Holy shit, hi!”

It’s as natural as breathing to accept the hug she offers him with outstretched arms.  Although there’s the slightest twinge of oddness when he realizes she’s not quite as tiny as he remembers her to be.

The hug is tight, but short and she steps back to look up at him, her dark eyes alight with happiness.  “Wow.  Dean Winchester.  I wasn’t sure sure it was you at first.  How long has it been?”

He purses his lips as he digs through old memories.  The last one he can vaguely recall is a lazy Sunday spent fishing on a summer day just like this one.  “Man… I think it was the summer after graduation?  So seventeen… eighteen years?”

Lisa rolls her eyes with a groan.  “Oh god, has it really been that long?  Now I feel old.”

He chuckles at her distress.  “Well if it makes you feel better, you look great.”

And she does.  A quick glance reveals that she’s still fit and trim.  Her hair is still glossy and thick, and her skin smooth.  Only the faint laugh lines around her eyes and the sharper edge of her cheekbones show her age at all.  When he was a kid, his eyes would have lingered on her body or her mouth, but while he still finds her beautiful, she no longer makes his heart race the way it did when he was in high school.

Her cheeks flush under the compliment.  “Well thank you.  You’re looking good too.”  She circles her fingers in the direction of his eyes.  “The glasses are cute.”

Striking a dignified pose, he reaches up and pushes them up higher on the bridge of his nose.  “I’ve been told they make me look distinguished.”

Lisa laughs, light and melodious.  “I guess that’s better than ‘nerdy’.”

He waves a dismissive hand.  “I’d take that as a compliment these days.”

She blinks at him, and he can tell she’s surprised.  But before she can respond, the last person in line ahead of him leaves with their lemonade, and the young man running the stand calls for the next customer.

“You want something?” Dean asks Lisa, hooking a thumb towards the menu hanging next to the stall.  She nods, then immediately tries to talk him out of paying, but he won’t hear it.  “It’s just a lemonade, Lis’.”  The old nickname rolls of his tongue.  “It’s not like I’m buying a fancy dinner.”

After a moment she relents, and Dean orders two large lemonades and a large raspberry lemonade.  When Lisa lifts a questioning brow at the third order, he grins.  “That one is for the ol’ ball and chain.”

Her eyebrows go up.  “You’re married?”

“Yeah, going on ten years now.”  He accepts the first drink from the kid making them, and passes it over to Lisa.  She looks so flabbergasted that he laughs.  “What?  Didn’t think anyone would want me?”

She accepts the cup, but gives him a stern look.  “It’s not that.  I’m just surprised you finally settled down.”

With a wince and a nod, he accepts her explanation.  “Fair point.”  He accepts the other two drinks, and steps away from the stand to give the next customer room to order.  “Want to meet ‘em?  We have a booth over that way-” he gestures with his own drink, “-selling honey.”

She smiles brightly.  “I’d love to.”

He tilts his head in a motion to follow him and sets off across the market, weaving through the empty spots in the crowds.  Despite the heat, he’s not in a hurry.  The ice in his lemonade chills it enough that he’s worried about brain freeze if he sucks it down too fast, and now he’s able to actually enjoy the day.  As well as the company.

“So you sell honey now?” Lisa asks in between sips of her own drink.

“Yeah, we have a bunch of hives.  Although that’s just fun money.  I pay the bills with my books.”

Lisa almost misses a step, and she looks up at him with wide eyes.  “Your books?  Are you saying you’re a writer?”

“Published and everything.”  Okay, so he may be bragging a little bit, but he is kinda famous now.  

“What do you write?”

“Horror mostly.”  He grins down at her.  “It’s cathartic to turn all the noise in my head into bloody death and destruction on the pages.”

She pales slightly.  “Really?”

“Most of my stories have a happy ending.”  Not his first few books.  It took finding his his own happy ending - and beyond - to learn how to write them for his characters.  

“Huh.  Maybe I’ll have to check them out.”

He can tell from her tone that she’s not really interested.  It’s a little bit of a bummer, but he knows the horror genre isn’t for everyone.  Especially for someone as optimistic as Lisa.  So he decides to change the subject.  “What about you?  What’s been going on in your life and what brings you back to Lawrence?”

She visibly brightens.  “I’m moving back here to be closer to my family.  Plus I’m opening a yoga studio.”

“Oh yeah?  That’s pretty awesome.”  The crowds part and he can see the honey stand not too far away.  There’s a young couple sorting through the jars, pointing out different flavors to each other as they try to decide which one they want.  Dean always suggests the blackberry.  It’s his favorite.

“I’m excited for it,” she says.  Then her voice turns shy.  “I also… have a son.”

That grabs Dean’s attention, and he turns his head so he can focus on her again.  “Wow, really?  Tell me about him.”

“His name is Ben, and he’s thirteen.”  Lisa goes on to tell him about how Ben is a little flirt with the girls, and loves classic rock.  She laughs and points out how it’s funny that her son is turning out so much like the bad boy type that she’s always been into.  “His dad’s not around,” she says with a shrug and a grin, “So apparently I’m the bad influence.”

Dean scoffs.  “Sounds to me like you’re the best influence.”

She laughs.  “Thanks, I guess.”

They’re stopped just outside the stand now, and the couple picking through the honey has made their decision and are walking away with their purchase.  Dean leads Lisa into the empty space they leave behind.  He meets curious blue eyes over the table still half full of honey jars.  Ten years, and those eyes still make his pulse race as if he’s looking at his crush instead of his spouse.  “Hey, babe, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

With a nod, Castiel stashes the money he just made in the cash box and gently closes the lid.  As if it’s a delicate piece of crystal and not a clunky metal box.  Dean’s eyes follow the movements of his long, delicate fingers before turning to Lisa to gauge her reaction to his husband.  

She looks slightly confused, her smile not quite as full as it was before, and he bites his bottom lip to suppress a grin.  It used to be hard to come out to people.  But now, he enjoys the shock factor.  It’s almost as good as hearing fans talk about how scared shitless they are when they read his books.  And Lisa hadn’t been a part of his life for several years by the time he came to terms with his bisexuality, so she had no clue about the secret he’d been keeping from the world when they were in high school.

Castiel comes around the table and stands next to Dean.  He accepts the raspberry lemonade Dean hands him with a grateful smile, and then turns his attention to Lisa.  “Hello.”

“Lisa, this is my husband Castiel.”  Dean snakes an arm around Castiel’s waist and pulls him close.  The back of his shirt is even more damp than Dean’s despite the fact that he’s stayed in the shade the whole time they’ve been at the Market.  “Cas, this is Lisa.  We were a thing way back in highschool.”

Lisa looks back and forth between them for a moment, disbelief clear in her eyes.  But it fades quickly when she realizes Dean is serious.  “Hello, Cas.  It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s good to meet you as well,” Castiel says, all formality, because heaven forbid he shed his private schooled, silver-spoon-in-the-mouth, upbringing.  Not that Dean minds.  He thinks it’s sexy.  “Dean has talked about you, and I’m happy to put a face with the name.”

“Oh no!” Lisa laughs.  “That doesn’t sound good.”

Castiel’s smile is gentle, but his eyes shine with good humor.  “I’ve only heard good things, I promise.”

Lisa laughs again and expresses her disbelief, but Castiel is insistent.  Eventually their conversation turns to the honey sold at the stand, and Dean stands back and watches them interact while sipping his lemonade.  

It’s odd, seeing his past and his present standing side by side, talking about the pollination habits of bees.  Lisa had been his everything when they were kids.  Eighteen had seemed so grown up at the time, but looking back on it now from the comfort of his mid-thirties, he can only shake his head at how young they’d truly been.  It’s no wonder their relationship hadn’t worked out.  Despite wanting the apple pie dream of a marriage, kids, and little house with the white picket fence, Dean had the heart of a wanderer and hesitated to promise to plant roots.  Not to mention the fact that he still had a lot of growing up to do, although he hadn’t realized it at the time.  Lisa was ready to settle down, and kept turning Dean down when he asked her to hop in the car and go adventuring with him.  When they both realized that things between them weren’t going to go past a promise ring, they’d drifted apart.  

Dean had prayed every night for a long time that she’d change her mind.  But when he came back to Lawrence after a year on the road, he’d learned that she’d moved away.  With no way to find her he’d finally given up hope that they’d get back together and give life together a go.  And he’d gone back out on the road, looking for the happiness he longed for.

Eight years, thousands more miles on the Impala, and a couple published books later, Dean met Castiel.  He’d been out trolling for a one night stand, but he’d been hooked by Castiel’s dark messy hair, passionate blue eyes instead.  And he discovered a man to love under the thick layer of sexy.  One night turned into two, which turned into a week, and somehow it spread into the last ten years.  And hopefully their whole lives to come.

They had the marriage part of Dean’s childhood dreams, but instead of a house in a nice neighborhood they had a little farmhouse with a small orchard on the edge of town Dean had grown up in.  They weren’t sure yet if they wanted to expand their family past their siblings and nieces and nephews, but it wasn’t off the table yet.  In the meantime Dean had his books, Castiel had his bees, and most of all, they had each other.  Maybe it wasn’t “apple pie”, but since pecan is his favorite anyway, it worked out perfectly.

At eighteen he hadn’t known this kind of happiness could exist.

He wonders if he could have found it with Lisa.  Perhaps.  He’d definitely loved her.  But with almost two decades between their time together and now, he certainly can’t imagine what his life would have been like if he’d gotten what he’d prayed for back then.  He doesn’t even want to try.

“Well, I’d better get out of here,” Lisa says.  “It’s almost time for me to pick Ben up from baseball practice.”

Dean shakes away his thoughts, and focuses on her.  “You should bring him around some time.  I’d love to meet him.”

“I’d like that.”  And she looks like she genuinely means it.  Which is great.  Dean would love to rekindle their friendship.

Castiel and Lisa exchange goodbyes, and then Castiel leans into Dean’s side while they both watch her disappear into the crowd.  

“She seems very nice,” Castiel murmurs.

“Yeah, she’s cool.”

He feels Castiel’s eyes on the side of his face.  “Just cool?  Wasn’t she the girl you prayed to God you’d get to keep forever?”

Dean chuckles and turns to meet Castiel’s eyes.  His husband’s lips are just barely turned up at the corner, a sure tell that he’s teasing.  “I can’t believe you remember that.  We were both wasted when I told you about her.”

“You were wasted,” Castiel counters.  “My tolerance for alcohol is higher than yours.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t brag.”  Dean leans in and presses a kiss to Castiel’s lips.  

When they pull apart, Dean sighs.  He’s not sure it’s possible for him to ever get tired of Castiel’s kisses.

“I’m pretty thankfully actually,” Dean murmurs.  He traces shapes against Castiel’s chest through the soft fabric of his t-shirt.  His finger brushes over the little golden cross hidden under the shirt’s collar.  Castiel has rarely taken it off since Dean gave it to him on their five year anniversary.  Dean’s firmly settled into being an atheist, but Castiel still has his faith, yet it’s not something that’s ever come between them.  “For not getting an answer to that prayer.”

“Hmm… yes, I’m rather grateful to Him for that myself.”  Castiel pecks him on the lips again, and then pulls away.  His fingers curl in the hem of Dean’s shirt, and he pulls him around the table and back under the shade of their booth.  

They don’t have more than a minute to sip at their drinks together before another customer comes up to the stand.  Castiel sets his lemonade aside so that he can assist them, and Dean watches him fondly.

His relationship with God had always been tenuous, even before he decided he didn’t believe at all.  But right then and there, he sends up a prayer of thanks for all the good things in his life.  You know, just in case someone is listening.  He may not have gotten what he asked for, not exactly.  But he wouldn’t trade what he has now for anything else in the world.

Snog Me Senseless 4

A/N:  So this was supposed to be a one shot about kissing, but then it became so much more.  Thanks to @team-styles for the teamwork between author and reader.  Thanks, as always, to @little-black-dress-24, for the encouragement and for forcing me to have the courage to tell this story.  I am so grateful to @melissas173, @niallandharrymakemestrong, and @emulateharry for their amazing suggestions and ideas.  

For Soap, my tumblr little sis.  I hope this one doesn’t embarrass you too much.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

As soon as you hear the sounds of the other boys in the fraternity house stirring, you move to get dressed in your clothes from the night before.  Harry, being the thoughtful boyfriend he has proven himself to be, clears the hallway so that you can use the restroom.  And even though you wrinkle your nose at the smell of the place, and even though you are stunned at the amount of shaved whiskers in the sinks, and even though the room is as close to a garbage dump as you have ever seen; you still glide in with confidence because you know your boyfriend is guarding the entrance.  You take care of your needs quickly, washing your face clean of any makeup and sliding into your clothes from the night before.  You finger-brush your hair, hoping that no one really notices that you’re wearing the same clothes.  Then again, you’ve never done a walk of shame, and you’re strangely excited at the prospect.    

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wotcher, vic

The first time Victoire meets Teddy, he’s two and she’s just been born. She doesn’t remember any of it, but later, much later, her parents would tell her that she’d gurgled at the sight of him like she’d known he was going to end up being her best friend. And then—this part is always accompanied by a knowing smirk—when they brought Teddy up to the new mother and daughter (“Das a bay-bee?” he’s later quoted as saying. “Weird.”), his hair changed from Weasley-red to the same shade of blonde as hers.

“Zis ees Victoire,” her maman had said, smiling down at Teddy. “Do you want to say ‘ello, Teddy?”

And Teddy had cocked his head to the side, nodded in the sort of pompous, overly-excited fashion that only a two-year-old could get away with, and said, “Wotcha, Vic.”

//

By the time Victoire can talk and walk (and thus cause all sorts of trouble), she and Teddy are inseparable. Literally—Victoire throws tantrums that pay hefty tribute to her Veela heritage whenever she goes more than a few days without seeing her best friend. Sometimes, they hang out at Auntie And-rah-meh-da’s house, but most of the time, it’s either at the Burrow or Shell Cottage or sometimes even Uncle Harry’s house. Her maman frowns when Victoire comes home with her hair a mess and her dress splattered with mud, but because Victoire’s cheeks are always flushed and her grin is set to devour her whole face, she doesn’t say anything.

After all, there’s always Cleaning Charms (and thank Merlin for them). And besides, as Victoire’s daddy likes to say when he thinks Victoire isn’t listening, “at least she’s still young enough that the only trouble she gets into with boys is a spot of mud.”

//

When Victoire turns two, her maman and daddy sit her on the couch between them and tell her that she’s going to have a sister. Victoire doesn’t care much. A sister would be nice, she thinks. Teddy is nice, but he’s four now. He’s old and sometimes he doesn’t want to hang out with her because she’s too young. Plus, he’s a boy. And boys are gross, even if they’re crazy-haired Metamorphmagus boys named Teddy. (Especially if.)

“My maman’s gonna have a baby,” she tells Teddy a few days later, lying down on the grass beside him.

Teddy doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just continues pulling up grass with stubby fingers. “Good,” he says suddenly, and she’s so surprised that she turns to face him. His hair is black like Uncle Harry’s. “You’ll have someone else to play with.”

Victoire’s face screws up. “Why’re you so mean tuh me?” she demands shrilly, sitting up and glaring at him.

Teddy turns away from her, his hair briefly taking on the same shade of green as the grass around them before returning to jet black. “Because I’m older,” he answers angrily, throwing his handful of grass at her. Most of it lands on her dress, but she can feel pieces of it in her hair. “I don’t want to play with babies like you all the time.”

Victoire starts crying. She pushes herself off the ground and runs back to the safety of her home, wishing she’d never met Teddy Lupin. That Muggle girl from the nearby village was right—boys are meanies. But she never thought Teddy could be like them. He’d taught her how to colour and he played in the mud with her and brought her Chocolate Frogs when she was sad. He was nice… wasn’t he?

Or not. Beyond furious and more than a little sad, she stomps into the cottage and slams the door behind her with as much force as she can muster. One of the panes of glass breaks, and her maman comes running into the room at the noise, one hand cradling her tummy, eyes wide. Her daddy is only a few steps behind her, his forehead all scrunched up, wand in hand.

“What ees eet, ma chérie?” her maman asks, crouching down and cradling Victoire’s face in her hands. Her beautiful features—her mother really is beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the whole world—are twisted with worry. “What ‘appened? Are you okay? Are you ‘urt? Where ees Teddy?”

When she hears Teddy’s name, Victoire starts to sob even harder. “He—he called me a baby,” she bawls, throwing her arms around her mother. “He said he was glad you’re havin’ a baby ‘cause then he doesn’t have tuh play with me anymore!”

Her mother pulls her onto her lap and starts to rock her back and forth, singing an old French lullaby under her breath. Victoire’s daddy looks angry, but he crouches next to her too, stroking her hair. “I don’t care if the kid’s four and basically family,” he mutters lowly to his wife. “I’m going to kill him.”

Victoire’s maman giggles quietly as she continues to rock Victoire back and forth. “Beell,” she says in the same tone of voice she uses on Victoire when she’s done something bad, “you cannot ‘urt every boy who ‘urts Veeky.”

“But I want to,” Victoire’s daddy mumbles, sounding every bit like his daughter in her most petulant moments.

Victoire’s maman huffs, but there’s a small smile playing out across her lips. “‘e is young,” she says firmly. “And ‘e will make mistakes. Watch—’e will be back to apologize. ‘E cannot stay away.”

And sure enough, fifteen minutes later, there’s a timid knock on the door, and it’s Teddy, looking small and lost. “I—uh…” he trails off, his eyes flickering between his scuffed trainers and where Victoire stands behind her father, hands on her hips like Aunt Ginny when she wants to look intimidating. “I’m sorry, Vicky. I was being mean.”

Victoire’s already forgiven him—she forgave him five minutes ago. But she still darts out from being her father and plants a kick square on Teddy’s shin. It gets her a time-out from her mother and an irritated look from Teddy, but her father’s smiling into his palm, so it’s worth it.

//

Her sister is born four months before Victoire’s third birthday. Victoire’s in St. Mungo’s waiting room with Teddy and Andromeda—she only learned how to properly say the older woman’s name a few weeks ago—because there’s too much screaming in room where her mother and it smells too much like the Burrow after one of Grandma Weasley’s cleaning days.

Finally, a Healer finds them and tells them the baby has been born and would you please come this way, ma’ams and sir. Victoire, scared and nervous and excited all at the same time, grabs Teddy’s hand as they follow behind the adults. Teddy’s hair turns bright red—brighter than her daddy’s—but he doesn’t pull away.

When they reach the room, the rest of her family is already there, crowded around a bed, but they smile and make room for her once they spot her. Victoire catches sight of her mother with a bundle of blankets in her arms, hair dark with sweat, cheeks flushed. But both she and Victoire’s daddy, who’s hovering beside her and looking pale, are smiling widely.

Her mother motions for Victoire come closer. Victoire hasn’t let go of Teddy’s hand yet, so he just follows behind her shyly as she gets closer to the bed. “This ees your new sister, Veeky,” her maman whispers hoarsely, holding the blankets out to Victoire.

Victoire looks down at the blankets, shocked to see a pair of blue eyes staring back at her somberly. It’s so small. Hesitantly, she reaches out a finger and touches one of the baby’s tiny fingers. The baby makes a noise that sounds a little like a laugh, and Victoire’s maman smiles even wider. “‘Er name ees Dominique.”

Victoire doesn’t really understand what’s going on, but she hugs her mom anyways, and when Teddy whispers, “are all babies this ugly?” into her ear, she stomps on his foot even though she kind of agrees with him.

//

Victoire’s brother Louis arrives when Victoire is four and a half, and Shell Cottage becomes a warzone. Luckily, though Teddy is almost seven now—way older than her—he still hangs out with her when he’s not seeing his other friends.

One day, when everyone’s at the Burrow for Sunday Brunch, he tells her that he’s going to teach Louis all his tricks. Victoire looks at him in her best Aunt Ginny impression—hands on her hips, upturned eyebrows, pursed lips, eyes blazing—and says, “what tricks, Teddy Lupin?” She’s just lost her childish lisp, and it makes her sound older. Teddy blanches.

“Blimey, Ted,” Uncle Ron laughs, clapping an affronted Teddy on the back. “You’d better watch out.”

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anonymous asked:

Yaay requests are open! Can you write hc for Zen and Jumin reacting to mc justifying everything simple thing she does for them with a straightforward "it's because I love you! :3" she's just unashamed of her feelings period!

This request is so adorable anonny! Since you only requested Zen and Jumin, I made these a lot longer then usually mainly because I had so much fun writing this one! I hope that you enjoy!!~


Zen

  • Zen has always been an affectionate man himself but when he sees how much you do for him, it makes him curious
  • You’d always make dinner for him no matter how late he’d come home from rehearsals, make sure that the laundry was complete so he’d always have a fresh, clean shirt to wear, and you’d give him so much encouragement that it’d be impossible for him to doubt himself
  • It even got to the point where you’d perform little tasks for Zen such as making sure there were always enough of his favorite brand of beers in the fridge for him or even making sure that you’d always leave him enough hot water for when he took his shower
  • All of this made Zen wonder, was he really that great of a person to deserve all of this love and praise?
  • So one day after he said about how tired he was from rehearsals and you went to give him a neck and should massage, Zen asked you something he’d been wondering for so long
  • “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything MC but why do you always do such cute and nice things for me all of the time?”
  • You smiled at Zen and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek as you answered him
  • “Well it’s because I love you so much Zen! You deserve all of the happiness and love in the world because you’re so amazing!”
  • At that moment, Zen thought that his heart would burst from joy
  • He quickly got up and went to give you a giant hug in his long, lean arms, closely holding your head to his chest as he stroked your hair lovingly
  • “You’re the most caring and considerate person that I’ve ever met MC, to say that I love you is an understatement. You’ve made me the happiest man alive!”
  • From that day on, Zen made sure to show his appreciation for you more with lots of kisses, hugs, and cuddles because to Zen, you really are the most perfect person in the world

Jumin

  • Jumin was never quite sure why you acted the way that you did
  • It wasn’t like he disliked your personality, that was far from the truth, he just didn’t understand why you were always so kind and caring to him
  • You would always greet him whenever he came home from work, no matter how late it was, you’d wake up earlier then him to make his favorite breakfast with a smile, and you’d always make sure that Elizabeth the third was properly taken care of
  • But most importantly, your listen to Jumin whenever he needed someone to talk to
  • Whether he was annoyed by a new employee slacking off or worried when his father became sick, you’d always be there, nodding and giving Jumin words of encouragement
  • This perplexed Jumin to no end, how could someone be so caring and about him?
  • So one day when the two of you were getting ready for bed, Jumin stared at you as he buttoned up his sleep top
  • You were saying goodnight to Elizabeth the third as you carefully removed the sheets from the bed and fluffed up Jumin’s pillow
  • “I don’t understand you MC, why do you always do such nice things for me?“
  • Jumin stood there shocked that the question left his mouth but you smiled and went over to hug him
  • “That’s an easy answer, it’s because I love you so much Jumin! I like doing little acts of kindness for you because I genuinely love you with all of my heart!”
  • He couldn’t believe that you actually felt that way about him 
  • Jumin swiftly lifted you up and laid both himself and you onto the bed as he gently put you on top of his chest
  • You hummed in contentment as Jumin rubbed your back and softly kissed the top of your head
  • “I simply adore you MC, truly with all of my heart. You’re kindness is so immense, I don’t know how to thank you. You let me be me and for that, I’ll be eternally grateful.”
  • Jumin decided from that day on to spend more time with you, going out on extravagant dates or even just relaxing together at home, because the amount of love that you show him truly makes him feel happiness

I fucked up the tiiiiimeliiiine~~ Lmao the timeline can just go fuck off I guess. Don’t worry. This isn’t the last we’ve seen of Thor.


Thor was monstrous in size, with a thick, golden mane like threads of actual gold. His paws were large enough to crush a grown man without even involving his claws, and whatever humans didn’t get crushed under them were body-checked into the walls, which were still live with lightning. The electricity made his mane stand on end, and it should have looked comical, but he just looked even more terrifying.

He’d scooped Tony and Yinsen up in his teeth like kittens and carried them out of the cave. The change from cold and damp to hot and arid made Tony’s teeth ache. He could hear Yinsen, babbling something—they were probably prayers. But who wouldn’t pray when they were literally hanging out of a monster’s mouth?

Yinsen wouldn’t remember. He’d think it was a storm, a short, an explosion—anything but what had really happened. Thor had made sure of it. Tony had begged—Yinsen had kept him alive, kept him sane, it wasn’t fair that he wouldn’t remember. But Thor had calmly explained that most humans could not handle the truth, that monsters were real—and not everyone was as clever as Tony was.

Tony clung to Thor’s back and shivered as the monster trotted further out into the sand. Yinsen had been left near a town where he could get help, but Thor had insisted on taking Tony with him. He’d been too tired, sore, and thirsty to argue.

“Here,” Thor said, like he’d decided something. He knelt. “Dismount, child.”

“’m not a child,” Tony mumbled petulantly, but obediently slid down onto the ground, the monster’s silky fur slipping through his hands like water.

Thor looked at him, somewhat fond. “Even your oldest human is yet a child in comparison to me, Anthony.”

Tony blinked up at him blearily, rubbing his eyes to try and block out the haze. “Are you leaving me? Why couldn’t you leave me with Yinsen?”

“I could not be certain you would not insist on telling him the truth again. Most humans cannot handle that, Anthony.” Thor smiled, and his teeth were long and sharp beneath his lips. “You must be special, Anthony, for Loki to reach out to me for help.”

Tony blinked up at him again. “Loki?”

“Yes, Loki, my dear brother,” Thor chortled.

“What,” Tony said, either too dehydrated or, more likely, too baffled to understand the link between a white deer and this golden, leonine creature. “How did—”

“I leave you here, Anthony,” Thor boomed, and then there was a crash of thunder, a flash of lightning, and the monster was gone. There weren’t even any paw prints.

“…You left me in the desert,” Tony told the air.

But he wasn’t going to get anywhere just standing there like an idiot. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up at a dune. He might be able to see something from there. He started trudging toward it.

Tony didn’t notice that Rhodey had been approaching, and he yelled and flailed when an arm wrapped around his waist, elbowing his friend in the cheek.

Rhodey didn’t even mind, which meant it was like being elbowed by a baby bird. “Next time,” he said sternly. “You ride with me.”

“Okay,” Tony said, unashamed of how tearful he sounded.

Rhodey  tightened his grip around his waist. “I got you, man. We’re gonna get you home.”


Pepper and Obadiah brought Tony home. The monsters would have wondered why they had instead of whoever Loki had sent for, but they were just too happy to have him back. It was irritating that they had to hide in the shadows and wait to greet him. Obadiah always set their teeth on edge, though, and Pepper… Pepper always sighed when she saw them.

“What is that?” Steve whispered, jerking his elbow into Bucky’s side. “Bucky, what is that?”

“What’s what?” Bucky asked, then grunted when Steve elbowed him again. “Ow!”

Steve pointed. “Look!”

Bucky grumbled to himself, rubbing his side and cursing Steve’s pointy elbows. He frowned when he finally saw the glowing blue light under Tony’s shirt. Sometimes Steve saw things on different frequencies if he wasn’t focusing. He wondered what the light was, but was too distracted by worrying. Tony had been gone a month, and looked it, the way his clothes hung too loosely on him and his eyes were sunken in his face, with deep bruises under each eye.

He hoped at least Obadiah left soon. He wondered what he should feed Tony.


Obadiah left, and Pepper chased Tony to the bathroom when he took off at a sprint.

Steve slithered after them, peering into the bathroom. “Everything alright?”

“The doctors told him a cheeseburger would be too much,” Pepper sighed, gently rubbing Tony’s back as he heaved his stomach contents into the toilet. “Hi, Steve.”

Natasha dropped from the ceiling and onto Steve, ignoring his offended noise as she slammed his upper body into the ground. “Is he okay?”

Pepper grimaced. “Ehm… Kinda?”

“Kinda,” Clint repeated, filling the doorway. “What’s kinda mean?”

“…He’s alive,” Pepper decided.

Tony sat up straight, gasping for breath, making concerning little wheezing noises. Then he bent forward to puke again, sobbing quietly.

Steve sat up so fast that he sent Natasha flying into the bathtub. He ignored her cursing and threats to slither up beside the boy, placing his hands on his ribs gently. “Tony, it’s okay. You’re home. We’ve got you.”

“Hurts,” Tony whispered.

Steve pretended that didn’t make him want to panic. “Where does it hurt, honey?”

“Everywhere-!”

Steve slumped a little, stroking the brunet’s sides helplessly. “I can’t help with that.”

Pepper reached out to touch his shoulder and proved how far she’d come in accepting them by not flinching when her skin met his scales. “I don’t think anyone can help with that, Steve.”

“Is he done puking? Give him to me,” Clint ordered, holding his wings out. Natasha wet a washcloth in the tub to wipe Tony’s face with before Steve handed him over. Clint bundled the human into his wings, hiding all but the toes of his shoes and a little bit of his hair. He turned and hopped gently out of the bathroom, being careful not to jostle him. “This is mine now.”

“What the fuck, Clint?!” Steve called after him, and he would have followed, but Pepper’s hand was still on his shoulder, which was very unusual. He turned toward her, frowning. “…Ms. Potts?”

Natasha paused from clambering out of the bathtub. “What’s wrong?”

“Tony was… injured,” Pepper explained slowly, trying to find the right words. “He almost died. Should have, really.”

“…But he’s alright now,” Natasha said, more statement than question, but open-ended enough to be corrected.

“He’s… alive,” she repeated. “When he was attacked in Afghanistan, he was hit with shrapnel from a bomb. In the chest.”

Natasha unconsciously covered her own chest. “That’s where all your important bits are.”

Pepper stared at her for a moment. “…Yes. Especially the heart.”

“Something’s wrong with Tony’s heart?” Steve asked quickly, alarmed.

“Yes,” she said softly. “It—you need to understand. He should have died. It’s a miracle that he’s here. But that miracle cost him.”

Steve squirmed. “Is that why he was throwing up?”

“He was throwing up because he’d been eating a handful of rice for a meal for a month and decided he was okay eating a goddamn cheeseburger,” Pepper snapped, then sighed and closed her eyes. “…I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“It’s okay. We know Tony has poor decision-making skills,” Natasha offered.

Pepper sighed again. “Thanks. No, Steve. He has an electromagnet in his chest keeping shrapnel from tearing up his heart.”

“But he’s gonna be okay,” Steve tried, falling silent when Pepper just stared at him somberly and shook her head. “…But… why?”

Pepper took a deep breath. “Steve, the shrapnel is in his chest, it should have killed him on his third day in Afghanistan. We don’t… we don’t have a way to remove the shrapnel. Not without killing him anyway.”

“…What the fuck!” Steve snarled, jerking away from her. “What good is all your medicine if it doesn’t work?!”

“Steve,” Pepper began, but he slithered out of the bathroom, so fast that his scales scraped the tiles. “…Does he think that I don’t wish there was a way to help Tony?”

Natasha reached out to put one of her hands on the human’s shoulder, then thought better of it. Her prickly hairs irritated Pepper’s skin. “I understand, Ms. Potts. Steve… Steve and Bucky are always going to be more invested. They can remember when Tony was just a baby. I think sometimes they believe he’s still that helpless.”

Pepper tilted her head thoughtfully. “…I do not believe for a minute that Tony was ever helpless, even as a baby.”

“Bucky says that Tony nearly tore his ear off when he didn’t want to go to sleep for the night.”

Pepper huffed out a tired laugh. “That sounds about right.”


“Broth,” Bucky said, trotting into the den, and then paused when he saw Clint rocking back and forth on the back of the couch. “…He needs something in his stomach, Clint.”

“You can’t have him,” Clint snarled.

Bucky was about to snarl back, but then he noticed that Clint’s words had lacked his usual snarky bite. He approached the other monster carefully. “Clint. Steve said he vomited. He needs something in his stomach.”

Clint was still and silent for a moment before he drew his wings down just enough to expose Tony’s head, tucked safely beneath his chin. “You can’t have him.”

“Clint what the—” Bucky began angrily, then paused. “…This is about the blue light, isn’t it.”

You can’t have him.

“Clint.”

“They can’t take him back!”

Bucky closed his mouth, biting back the retort he’d had ready. “…Clint, do you think that’s a tracking device on his chest?”

Clint started rocking back and forth again.

“It’s not,” Bucky told him gently. “Steve told me it’s not. And he got the information from Ms. Potts. You know Ms. Potts doesn’t have the patience to lie.”

Clint shifted his grip on the human, loosening a little. “…Then what is it?”

“It’s a… magnet?” Bucky frowned. “It… keeps shrapnel from a bomb from killing him.”

Clint unwrapped one wing enough to carefully run his taloned fingers through Tony’s hair. “So they can’t find him?”

“No, Clint,” Bucky answered softly. “And even if they could, we’re here, aren’t we? We won’t let them take Tony again.”

“Petting me,” Tony murmured after a moment, nuzzling under Clint’s chin again, and seemed to sink deeper into his feathers. “Nice.”

Bucky stepped closer, putting a hand on Clint’s shoulder to stop his rocking. “Tony, honey? I made some broth for you. You wanna drink some?”

Tony was silent for a moment, then extracted his hand from Clint’s feathers just far enough to close his fingers around the mug. He paused with the mug pressed to his chin until Clint raised his wings again and hid him from view.

Bucky wanted to smile when the empty mug was thrust out of the sea of purple feathers, but then he remembered the light in Tony’s chest, the way Clint had been protecting him and fearing that someone would track Tony down. Clint sometimes got like this, on edge, and they could never tell what exactly triggered it, but clutching Tony in the safety of his wings always seemed to calm him down eventually.

He glanced up as Hulk lumbered into the room, tensing up a little when the giant monster reached out both hands toward Clint. He relaxed again when Hulk simply scooped Clint and Tony up in his hands like they were a delicate flower.

“Hulk worried,” Hulk said, stroking down Clint’s back with one broad thumb. “Glad you’re home.”

Tony’s head poked up out of Clint’s wings again. “I’m glad I’m home too, Hulk.”

Hulk’s lips quirked upward into a small smile. “Troublemaker.”

“That’s me,” Tony said tiredly. “…’m sorry.”

“Sleep,” Hulk ordered, so gently that it was jarring in and of itself.

Tony made a small noise of agreement and ducked back under Clint’s wings.

Clint shuffled his grip, hopping up one of Hulk’s arms to perch on his shoulder. “This is mine now. I live here.”

Hulk rolled his eyes.

“Surprised Loki isn’t in here gloating about how he helped save Tony,” Bucky said after a minute, looking around.

Clint frowned, rubbing his cheek over the top of Tony’s head. “He saw the light and freaked the fuck out. Well, as much as a guy like him does. He beat it real quick. …’s kinda why I thought… I mean…”

Bucky tilted his head. “That it might be something to track him with?”

“…Yeah.” Clint adjusted his grip on the boy. “Like I knew he was fast because deer are, but… man, he barely cleared the door, he leapt so far.”

“Weird,” Bucky mumbled. But Loki was usually weird anyway.

Hulk grunted and sat down, much more carefully than he usually did so as not to jostle Clint and Tony. “Puny monster.”

“…You are literally the only person who thinks that but okay,” Bucky told him.


Natasha raised her eyebrows when she found Loki huddled in the library. “Surprised you’re not out gloating about helping to save Tony.”

“That—” Loki began, then stopped. “…That was not natural.”

She tilted her head, frowning. “…What?”

“Having—having a cylinder of flesh missing.” Loki put a hand over his chest. “Human hearts are… are delicate. I cannot believe—they should have just let him die.

Natasha disagreed, but she understood. Humans were quite ill-suited to injury. They were squishy, didn’t have leathery skin or scales to protect them. Many times Natasha had come upon dying soldiers and put them out of their misery before the cold or wildlife got to them. She even felt sorry for them sometimes, but often help was too far away to get to them in time.

“Tony has shown a worrying propensity to live if only to spite people,” Natasha said after a moment. “And I doubt that will ever change.”

“Horrifying,” Loki said. “Disgusting. I may vomit.”

Natasha fought not to smile. “You like him!”

“I am definitely going to vomit.”

Natasha stopped fighting, grinning under the other monster’s glare. “You like him.”

“I am going to vomit on you.”

Natasha let out a short laugh. “You think Tony hasn’t already done that? Whatever you vomit on me will never be as bad as beer and chili-cheese dogs.”

Loki actually looked a little green at hearing that.

Crossing Lines Part 2

Summary: AU Jensen and reader moved to LA so he could pursue a music career. A new tenant just moved into their building.  His name is Chris and he’s an up and coming actor.

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Reader, Chris Evans

Word Count:  3045

Warnings: SMUT, angst, fluff, cheating

A/N: These are my two faves and my mind wandered as I thought about what it would be like to have to choose between them. This is the result. This will be a multi-part series.

Missed Part 1?  Read it HERE.

Thank you to @hannahindie for betaing this for me!

All images are from Google Search, credit goes to their owners.

 

He leans in and you don’t lean away.  His crystal blue eyes fill your vision, asking you for permission and he must see it because he closes the remaining distance capturing your mouth with his.  His lips are soft and warm, but his tongue is cool from the beer.  His hands slide around your waist pulling you closer as your hands move up his neck and into his hair. Butterflies flutter in your stomach making you feel like a feather as your body molds to his.

—-

Chris pushes you back onto the couch, nosing under your chin to kiss your exposed throat.  His hands roam over your body as he settles between your thighs.  You pull his face to yours, hungry for the feel of his lips again.  His hands slide up your body and under your shirt, fingers brushing your nipple, slamming you back to reality.  The butterflies take flight leaving you feeling like a stone.  You sit up, pushing him off.

“Sorry, shit.  I have to…  I have to go,” you say, standing up.

“Hey, hold on.”  His fingers ring your wrist, eyes meeting yours.  The blue orbs are innocence and mischief all wrapped up together.  “We can stop… just stay.  We’ll watch the movie.  I’ll keep my hands to myself, scout’s honor.”

You know you should go.  Your mind is screaming for you to, in fact.  But the other part of you, your angry, hurt and sad ego, the part that is hungry for his touch, is whispering stay.  Chris quietly watches you as the internal struggle between your two halves rages, until your ego wins, and you finally sit back down.

The smile on his face looks like a child’s on Christmas morning and you can’t help smiling back at him.  At least when you’re with him the pain of what Jensen did is dulled.  That can’t be so bad, right?

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I’ll Find You

Request: Hello! I can say without a doubt that I love your writings!❤ I also was wondering if you could do a newt x reader where she goes missing and when it gets too long everybody loses their hope except for Newt. Later on he finds her being tortured, saves her and it’s a grand and really fluffy reunion?:) Sorry, I just crave for angst and fluff😂 

Warning: Allusion to torture

Word Count: 3,095

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


Pickett crawls from the pocket of Newt’s discarded vest, top leaves drooping from exhaustion. Stumbling forward, the tiny creature pulls itself up by the bed’s legs and hops onto the mattress. Gripping the headboard’s bars, Pickett inches past the pillows and avoids Newt’s hand when it jerks forward.

Once he’s in range, the bowtruckle reaches forward and tickles Newt’s nose. He jumps back, slipping off the mattress and swinging wildly when Newt smacks at his face.

Pickett’s still swaying off the bed when Newt jolts up, rubbing his forehead with one hand and reaching for you with the other. “I had the worst nightmare, love. Love?”

His terror peaks for the third night in a row this month when his hand only hits empty sheets and a cold half of the bed. He opens his mouth to shout for you before he remembers: you’re gone.

He takes in two shaky breaths before he hears Pickett’s squeals. “Pickett, what are you doing up here? You should be asleep.” He lifts the bowtruckle from the front of the mattress and slips out of bed, carrying him to a tree. “Yes, I know you don’t want to be here, but this is where you’re staying. Do you want to stay in that tree? I didn’t think so.”

He peels Pickett from his hand and places him on the tree before turning back into the bedroom and closing the door.

Careful to step over the clothes, crumpled up pages, and overturned pots of feed, Newt crosses the room and slides out the desk’s chair.

The two of you had decided to place a small bedroom in the case for any situations where you needed to be ready to respond to a creature at any moment. For the most part, it had been used when one was about to give birth, but more and more often, you and Newt had been spending nights down there after long hours of work studying a new creature.

Newt drops his head in his hands as he stares at the pages scattered in front of him. Notes that mean nothing at 3 in the morning fill the papers, but Newt still rifles through them, furious with the tears dripping down his cheeks. He has no time to cry. He has to find you.

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