comic shot

5

Maybe they’ll save it. All the pieces. Store it in the town hall attic and rebuild it in a hundred years. Wonder who the hell we were. 

Riverdale, “Chapter Four: The Last Picture Show”

Wedding Date - Jughead Jones

Pairing : Jughead Jones x Reader

Word Count : 1,013

Warnings : none

Requests are open!

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Sitting at a round table, you were admiring the view in front of you. Your older sister, happily dancing with her newly wedded husband.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” you asked your long-timed boyfriend, Jughead Jones the third, who was sitting right next to you. The usual beanie who was normally on his head, was nowhere to be seen. His raven locks gave him the cute, boyish look that you loved. You were kind of glad that he had tried to dress formally for the celebration. He looked down and smirked before answering,

“Is that a trick question?” You playfully nudged him in his side, knowing he was messing with you.

“You’re supposed to say yes!” He chuckled at you and took your hand in his, bringing warmth and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Even though you guys had been dating for already a few years, he always had the same effect on you.

“She is pretty, but you’re pulchritudinous.” You raised your eyebrows, giving him a puzzled look. Jughead had that way of coming up with words you’d never heard before. He was a box full of surprises.

“English, please?” He sweetly laughed at your confused expression and replied,

“It basically means that you are a delight for my eyes.” The blood rushed to your cheeks, probably giving you a small pink tint. Your boyfriend could feel your embarrassment and tried lighting up the mood,

“Don’t be shy (y/n). You are the most alluring and divine creature I’ve ever seen.” A smile crept up your face as Jughead said those words to you.

“Well, you’re pretty foxy yourself.”

“Foxy?” Jughead said back dazed and amused by your new vocabulary.

“Yeah, foxy! It means artful, cunning, knowing- which I personally think describes you perfectly.” You explained. At this moment, something seemed to shine in his blue orbs. He leaned towards you, for only you to hear,

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” You gazed back at him.

“Only every day.”

A dorky smile appeared on him as you kissed his cheek. The next minutes had passed in a comfortable silence, both of you appreciating your surroundings. You and your sister’s friends had token hours to decorate the backyard for the wedding.

Usually you weren’t the arts and craft type but you loved your sister fondly and would do anything for her on this special day. Fairy lights we’re hanging on trees and across the dance floor. All the tables had a bouquet of sunflowers in a translucent vase. Balloons were scattered everywhere across the floor. You had also tried some diys from pinterest but didn’t really get an interesting ending. In other words, they turned out horribly. An enticing tune was playing in the background which you were quietly humming.

Seeing your sister like that made you so happy. It made you think about your future with Jughead. If you two would ever get married. As you were lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed your boyfriend getting up, and offering you his hand for you to take.

“Will you give me this dance?” Your boyfriend asked. The music had turned to a slow song. One of your favourites. You smiled and him and gladly took his hand.

“Of course.” Hand in hand, you and your boyfriend made your way to the dance floor where other couples were starting to appear. Jughead placed his hands on your waist and yours gently rested on his shoulders. The two of you were lightly moving to the rhythm of the romantic sway. You looked up, your gaze meeting his.

“Have you ever thought about us? Like, in the future us?” His eyebrows furrowed and peeked at the sky, thinking before saying,

“Sometimes.” He answered, “I like to think of us being together after school. Going to college would be fun. Maybe settling down after?” You bet your bottom lip.

“Yeah I’d like that…” You trailed off, “And what about after? What would you want? Would you want… this?” You asked motioning to the world around you.

“You mean the wedding?” You nodded, “I wouldn’t mind calling you wifey and being your hubby.” You both laughed and grinned and his comment. “Wouldn’t it bother your parents though? I know your dad isn’t very fond of me.”

“My dad isn’t the one who’s going to be deciding who I’m going to spend the rest and most of my days with. Besides, my dad’s moving to Arizona in the next month or so. It’ll only be me and my mom. You know she cares about you.” I said back.

“I’m sorry about your dad. I know you two don’t have the best of relationship right now, but just try to make the best out of the time you two have left together.” Jughead knew that your parents had separated when you were only a child. You couldn’t clearly remember how they announced it but every time you thought about it, your heart ached. Your boyfriend continued, “On the good side, since your sister is moving out, doesn’t it mean that there’s going to be more place for me?” You teasingly hit him,

“Oh shut it you oaf”

He smirked and pressed his forehead against yours. His icy blue eyes piercing into your (y/e/c) ones.

“To answer that question of yours, yes, I’d like you to be my wife someday.” He titled his head forward and his damp lips met yours. The kiss was sweet but passionate. It probably would’ve lasted longer if you two hadn’t been in public. Or to be more precise, to your sister’s wedding. Just when you two parted away, your sister came up to you with a smile bigger than ever,

“Hey love birds, looks like you two are next.” With that, she walked away and left you a giggling mess in your boyfriend’s arms. Jughead smugly smirked at you.

“Can you at least promise me one thing
(y/n)?”

“Depends what.”

“That we’ll at least have nine kids.” You chuckled and wondered how you got the chance to have such an amazing boyfriend.

  • Me: Okay,
  • I'm actually going to go to bed at 9. No crying. No binge watching Netflix. No fanfics. No worries, just sleep.
  • Me at 3am: Going through the 5 stages of grief as I'm crying, watching the last season of my favorite show, while reading a fic of it and thinking of my own.
Bucky Barnes - 20 Questions

side info - a game of 20 questions leads to something much more scandalous 

warnings - cursing, pRAISE KINK YES, hair pulling, name calling (positive only), some biting/marking, highkey dom!reader, highkey sub!bucky, cursing, slow love making, thigh riding, lots of dirty talk, filthy porn basically, some angst if you squint, unprotected sex

   Bucky Barnes was something. From his thick thighs to his crystal blue eyes, that boy gave you countless reasons to stick your hands down your panties at night. You and him had been friends for a while, and you didn’t want to ruin anything because of your little crush. But at the same time, you did. It seemed worth it; completely abolishing the friendship you had kindled just for one night with the soldier in your bed. You wanted to ravish him; completely ruin him as his baby blues and flushed cheeks and plump lips looked up at you, begging for more. So, you decided to act on your desires.

   You and the man in question sat on a couch in the living quarter’s common room, watching a recently released horror movie. You sat in tight, black boy shorts and a large flannel, Bucky in his usual dark jeans and white t-shirt. You traced patterns on your thighs as your eyes scanned his body, taking in every detail. His broad shoulders looked irresistible underneath his tight shirt, his biceps and forearms sinfully muscular. You wondered how easily they could pin you against a wall. You slowly sucked your bottom lip in your teeth as you eyed his thighs; the thick limbs made you hornier than nothing else. His attention was on the screen, though his hands were up to something else. His left, the bionic one closest to you, was rubbing the couch cushion. The metal digits glared in the light of the television, but you saw how his pointer and middle finger rubbed small circles in the plush surface, the light amount of pressure he was adding causing the cushion to sink in just a bit in the trail of his fingers. You mentally growled, scowling at his oblivious face. Maybe your staring hadn’t been as secretive as you had hoped. But, you knew the game he was playing, you weren’t stupid.

   And, just as he was good, you were better. 

   So, you spoke up. “Bucky, have you ever played the game 20 Questions?”

   He looked up at you, pausing the movie. A look of vague confusion set over his features. “No, what’s that?”

   You bit your lip, suppressing a small giggle. Turning to face him fully, you crossed your legs. “Basically, two or more people ask each other 20 revealing questions about themselves. The twist is, every time someone chickens out on a question, that person has to take a shot. Get it?”

   Bucky chuckled, low in his throat. “You kids these days have come up with some pretty wild stuff to pass the time, huh? I can’t talk about poker without someone wigglin’ their brows and asking if I’ve ever played strip.”

   You right out laughed at that and settled more comfortably into your seat, leaning in a bit. He followed suit, and soon the game begun. “You go first,” you insisted.

   He smiled, letting out a dramatic sigh as he thought about his question. “Revealing, huh?” -you smiled endearingly, egging him on to continue- “Fine, uhm… what color underwear are you wearing?”

   You laughed, “That’s all you got, soldier?” -he threw his hands up in defense, a bashful looking overcoming his face- “Fine, black. Lace.”

   Bucky raised his eyebrows, “That’s the type of stuff girls wear nowadays? Back in my day, everything was white. And cotton.”

   You bit your lip and looked at him, a playful glint shining in your eye. “Wanna see?”

   His cheeks blushed at that, his human hand coming up to shyly rub the back of his neck. “I-I mean…”

   You giggled and slid your shirt off, shivering as the crisp air of the room hit your bare skin. Next, you got up and removed your shorts, leaving your body in nothing but a skimpy black lace bra and matching panties. You sat back down and internally reveled at the look Bucky was giving you. Your plan was working perfectly.

   Bucky cleared his throat, his voice an octave deeper as he spoke. “You uhm… you look nice, Y/N. Didn’t realize it would be so… tight.”

   You blushed, but not in an embarrassed, shy way. Your skin felt hot as confidence built up in you, your cheeks becoming red at your own thoughts. “Well, I only wear the tight stuff for special occasions, Buck.” You winked at him and stood again, this time to walk to the kitchen to retrieve two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. You swayed your hips as you walked, and after fetching the needed supplies, you sank back on the couch, making sure to give Bucky an open view of your cleavage as you got comfortable on the plush cushions. You looked at him again, noticing how a hungry look had set over his eyes, the usual cerulean blue a shade darker than usual. “Alright,” you began, making sure to sound as seductive as possible without sounding desperate, “what is the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done to a girl?”

     His eyes widened a bit, “Uhm… I once fingered a dame while at a diner with her parents.”

     You laughed loudly, “Well damn, Barnes. Didn’t know someone as chivalrous as you had it in you!” You mocked him playfully.

     “Haha,” he deadpanned. “What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done to a girl?”

     You nearly choked on your own breath; was your bisexualness really that obvious? But you didn’t let the surprise become conspicuous. You composed yourself, and a sly smirk etched it’s way onto your lips as you spoke. “A couple years back, I was dating this gorgeous red-head, Lauretta. She was stunning; curves in all the right places, tan skin, full lips, and these eyes. Man, one look and I was a goner.” -Bucky was enraptured in your story, subconciously leaning in as you spoke- “One night, I wanted to try something a little different with my girl. So, I bought her a vibrating plug. It came with a remote. So, for an entire night, I had her at a bar with the thing inside her. God, the way she squirmed, Bucky. I nearly came just looking at the way she gasped and bit her lip whenever I would turn up the setting a notch. By the time the night was over, she was a mess. Her face was flustered, her eyes were completely blown and her lips were all wet and plump from her constant biting. I had my way with her later on; she came nearly five times.”

     Bucky gulped, his face flushed and his eyes nearly black. “I-I guess you know your way around the bedroom then, huh, Y/N?”

     You nodded proudly, “Yes, sirree.” Then you paused, thinking of how you were going to kick this conversation up a notch. You were getting hornier by the minute. “When was the last time you had your way with a girl, Bucky? Did the Winter Soldier ever have to fuck to get a job done?”

     He looked taken back at the question, but cleared his throat and answered in a hushed tone. “No, HYDRA made sure I forgot what compassion was. Girls looked at me, I remember. Some of the agents. But I just looked forward, nothing else on my mind except what the next mission was.”

     Your heart sank, “Oh, Buck. I’m… I’m sorry.”

     He shook his head, a casual demeanor washing over him once again. “Nah, it’s ok, Y/N. It’s in the past.”

     You nodded your head and stayed silent for a moment. “I have one more question for you, Bucky.” -he nodded and shifted in his seat, looking a bit more attentive- “When was the last time you had a girl dominate you? Huh?” Your voice adopted a sultry tone, the lilt in your words accentuating your lust. Bucky looked at you with big eyes, his pupils completely blown and a burning feeling settling in his stomach as your voice got deeper with each word that dripped out of your mouth. God, he wanted to fuck you.

     “C’mon, Bucky. Answer the question.” You were dangerously close to him now, your body crawling over to him as you talked. You whispered against his ear, your voice sending shivers down his spine. “Talk to me, James.”

     He groaned out loud at the use of his real name, and with the leverage, you pushed him so that he was laying against the arm of the couch, your body positioned in between his legs. You were on your knees, your ass perched in the air and Bucky was reveling in the view. He bit his lip, “I’ve always been the dominate one in the bedroom, doll. It takes a real woman to get me on my knees.”

     You lifted your head and looked at him with one brow arched, a quizzical look etched onto your face. “Do I look fake to you?” Then you were on him, your mouth latched onto his in a deep, passionate kiss. His large hands gripped onto your hips, the cool metal of his left contrasting beautifully to the heat of your skin. Your left hand was trailing down his front, settling at his hip while your right was locked in his hair, your delicate fingers massaging his scalp. You grabbed a few locks in your hand and gently pulled, testing your luck. His head fell back against the couch’s arm and a guttural moan fell from his lips. Oh, this is something…

     You pulled again, harder this time, and the whimper that left his lips went straight to your core. You chuckled, “Who knew the infamous Winter Soldier would be putty in my arms the second I knotted my fingers in his hair…” Bucky sighed as you began massaging his scalp again, your lips kissing and suckling at the taut skin of his neck now. You bit lightly at his heated flesh and laved at the fresh love bit forming on his skin, a hiss leaving his lips as a pleasurable sting spread across his skin.

     “Y/N, please…” his voice was fucking wrecked.

     You gave in to Bucky’s plea and rose off of him, beckoning him to follow. After a few seconds of adjusting, you were straddling his lap as he sat in an upright position. Your hand was groping his growing bulge, your mouth claiming him as your own. His head lulled onto the back off the sofa, soft whimpers falling from his open mouth. Bucky’s lips were swollen and pink, just the way you had imagined. You lifted off of his neck and kissed his cheek softly, “You look absolutely beautiful like this, darling…” -he gasped at your words- “Your lips all pretty and pink, your eyes blown… Who made you feel so good, pretty boy?”

     He swallowed deeply, “Doll please, I need to fuck you.”

     You smiled gently, twiddling his shirt in between your fingers. “You will soon, my love. But we need to rid you of this very inconvenient covering, first. Strip for me, Buck.” You got off of his lap and watched, your mouth watering, as he pulled his shirt over his head. Then his pants came off, and finally his boxers, and fuck, if you weren’t head over heels before, you certainly were now. Your teeth worried at your bottom lip as your eyes drank in his figure; a light layer of sweat had formed over his taut muscles and tan skin, the perspiration making his skin look like it was glowing in the late afternoon light. He was just as thick as you imagined, his shoulders and chest broad and his biceps and forearms comparable to blocks of stone. But what you really couldn’t over were his thighs. God, those things were killer. His hipbones were cut into a very sinful V, a dark trail of hair whisking down his naval and together they formed almost an arrow to the real prize. He was bigger than you expected, thicker. His tip red and angry, a vein protruding along the lower side of his shaft and god, you wanted to devour him. Your eyes landed on his left arm, the scars connecting the limb to his chest swirled together in just the right way and looked almost like lighting strikes on his skin. Since when was metal such a turn on? You wanted to ravish him in the best ways possible; you wanted his moans and whimpers to fill the room as you fucked him raw, his metal appendage gripping your hips like his life depended on it and your mouth trailing soft kisses on his lighting strike scars as you coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of the angelic being before you… Fuck, you were so hooked. 

   Bucky sat again, and you, almost too enthusiastically, mounted him again. You clothed pussy rubbed against his shaft and you both gasped at the feeling. But that’s not where you wanted your first orgasm of the night to take place. You would torture Bucky a bit more, and have him watch you break yourself apart on his thigh. Your voice was soft as you stared at him with bright eyes, “Have you ever had a girl get off on riding your thigh, James?”

   He smirked, his eyes burning holes into yours, “No. Would you like to, Y/N? Ride my thigh until you scream?”

   You smiled and bit your lip, “Only if you’ll watch.” 

   You rid yourself of your bra and re-positioned your body so that you were straddling his right thigh. Your hips began to rock back and forth slowly; you angled them in a way that your clothed clit ran directly against his thick muscle every time you swept down. After a few seconds of getting into a tempo, you were lost. Bucky had his hands on your bare hips, pushing you down further and further as his teeth suckled at his bottom lip, his cerulean eyes almost completely black. He couldn’t believe what was happening; he had had a few dreams about you before, but none of them measured to the real thing. The girls in the 40′s were never this… wild. You were engulfed in your own little slice of heaven as you rode his thigh, and the look on your face and the soft noises you were making drove Bucky insane. He could get used to this…

   After a few minutes of intense grinding, you felt your orgasm rising up like lava would in a volcano. You opened your eyes and gasped at the way Bucky looked at you, his plump bottom lip between his teeth and he eyes hooded as he memorized your figure. That was what set you off; his look. It wasn’t the strongest orgasm you had ever had, but it felt damn good as waves upon waves of toe curling euphoria ignited your nerves until you were a quivering mess in Bucky’s arms. After you had calmed, Bucky placed his large hands on the undersides of your thighs, and, as your head lulled on his shoulder, walked the short distance down the hall, then carried you into your room. He set you gently on your bed, planted a chaste kiss on your bare chest, and spoke: “I’m gonna make love to you, Y/N. It’s gonna be slow, and deep, and you’re going to be a gasping mess in my arms. Do you understand?”

   You smiled lazily and let Buck take the reigns, “Yes, sir.”

   He growled lowly in his throat and sat back on his feet, so that he was kneeling before you on your bed. You smiled endearingly at him and spread your legs, trying your best to seductively shimmy out of your panties. Your hips lifted off of the bed and you pulled them off, setting your hips back down and flinging the flimsy panties across the room. Bucky gasped as your exposed heat met his eyes, and his jaw got slack as your hands trailed casual circles on your skin. “Oh, doll…”

He was on you, his warm mouth kissing and sucking and licking any part of your body he could reach, his hands rubbing your sides and legs. You were in bliss, the sensations and feelings coursing through your veins hazing your mind. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Bucky sat back on his heels again and lined himself up with your entrance. He smeared his tip with your wetness, sighing at the feeling. Bucky slid in you slowly, and when he was fully seated you both cried out at the feeling. His cries fueled by the feeling of being engulfed by a woman once again, the smooth muscle inside of your pussy throbbing and hugging him tightly. Your cries were fueled by feeling so filled. His cock had a slight curve to it, the length of it rubbing your walls and ridges in all the right places; his shaft was incredibly thick and god he felt like heaven.

  Bucky leaned down again, his torso flush against yours, and, after pulling nearly all the way out, thrust into you with a sensual roll of his hips. While Bucky fucked you, or rather made love to you, he didn’t bottom out with sharp, hard thrusts that echoed an erotic skin-against-skin sound throughout your bedroom, he fucking grinded into your pussy. His head was buried into your neck, low moans and gasps tumbling from his mouth as his hips ground into yours slowly and deeply, his back conspicuously moving with the effort of his actions. There was no skin-against-skin sound echoing, only the slick, squelching sound of your wetness against his cock, and it drove the both of you insane. You were a whimpering mess underneath Bucky, his name leaving your mouth like a prayer as he lit your body on fire. 

   You brought your hand up to his hair and pulled hard, and his smooth thrusts stuttered as he gasped harshly into your skin. His voice was muffled against your neck, “Again.”

  And so you complied, your fingers weaving into his dark locks and pulling, each tug drawing out a choked moan from his lips. “God, James,” you began, reveling in the way he thrusts quickened at your voice, “You’re doing so well, my darling. You’re making me feel so good, baby. Do you feel good, huh, James? Fucking my tight pussy?”

  “Yes, fuck… doll. Your pussy takes my cock so good.” he responded, his voice hoarse.

   You closed your eyes as a wanton moan ripped it’s way up your throat; the sound was music to Bucky’s ears. After several minutes, you felt a second orgasm building up inside of you, and this one would be earth shattering. The fire igniting in your core spread throughout your body in waves, each curling your toes and arching your back against Bucky’s chest. Sensing your oncoming orgasm, Bucky went fast and deeper, chasing his own orgasm desperately. When you finally did come, your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your body convulsed in ways no normal body should. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashed upon you like waves on a shore, and you were nearly silent the whole time. Bucky looked at you as you came, and he swore he would never see anything as beautiful. You were angelic in that moment. Almost unreal. After you came back from the few short seconds of pure bliss, your body quivered and shook in Bucky’s embrace and your voice was breathless as you called out his name, his real name.

   Hearing your voice, absolutely wrecked from the mind-blowing orgasm he had just gave you, call out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say, threw Bucky into his own orgasm. He couldn’t remember the last time he had come, or how it felt at all, really. Bucky never really had the time to masturbate, or the privacy. So, as his thrusts stopped and his eyes rolled back and his breath caught in his throat, he felt like he was a virgin getting fucked for the first time. Bucky’s cock twitched inside of you as he spurted ropes of thick cum in your pussy, painting your walls with the substance. It felt like his orgasm lasted forever, and as you held onto his broad shoulders and whispered encouragements in his ear, Bucky swore he had never been in that much bliss. You caught a glance of Bucky’s face as he came, how could a man look so beautiful in the middle of an orgasm? You had been with plenty of guys, and no one had ever looked as stunning as Bucky did when he orgasmed. A strangled, high-pitched, breathless “oh!” tumbled from Bucky’s mouth as he came, his mouth falling open and his eyebrows furrowing. You would never get tired of the sight.   

   After you had both cleaned up and gotten dressed in makeshift pajamas, Bucky held you in his arms as you both cuddled in your bed. You slept, your head snuggled against his chest and your legs draped lazily over his own. Bucky lay awake, reminiscing in the afternoon’s events. How had he gotten so lucky? And as Bucky began drifting off into a light sleep, Tony Stark emerged from his own room and made his way down to the living room, snatching up the bottle of forgotten whiskey on the coffee table, and drinking deeply from it’s contents. Tony eyed your guys’ clothes on the ground and rolled his eyes, piling them up with his foot and then plopping down on the couch, playing the movie from where Bucky had paused it. He sighed, happy that the very lewd noises coming from your room had stopped.    

   “At least Optimus finally got some, his constant brooding was getting annoying.” he whispered to himself.

6

Guys, guys, guys, I really like how this turned out, I mean everyones faces are so cute! Anyway, everyone ready for a really long explanation, alright, let’s gooooooo!

 Okay so since it’s a long story, I’m just gonna write the basics. 

 Final battle.

 Foot vs Hamato clan.

 Shredder fighting Splinter. Splinter is now unconscious.

 Mikey shows up on the scene and without even thinking he yells out to shredder to stop. Shredder turns on Mikey (this scene can be found here) Shredder fights Mikey and is winning April shows up and saves Mikey. Splinter and the gang (April,Miwa, and Casey) take Mikey back to the lair cause he’s hurt pretty bad. 

 Mikey stays with them and heals for months (at least 5) (Random things happen in that time x, x, and x. [I need to draw more of this time]) 

 Meanwhile he’s bros are going crazy searching for him and trying to get him back (shredder lied to them and told them the Hamatos kidnapped Mikey) Finally Mikey is able to go to his bros, but can’t go with them cause shredder will kill him for his betrayal (a comic about that can be found here. Mikey tries to explain that April and Splinter, all the Hamatos are good. His bros think that Splinter must have tricked Mikey or mind controlled him or something to get him to say that and is laying out a trap (or something like that) cause why would their Master lie to them.

 But when Mikey looks to Don and calls him “Donnie” for the first time since before Mikey lost his arm (which is at least 6 to 7 years, [this little part about the name was @purpletechtyrtle ]). Donnie is so shocked by this and then he notices the tiny spark of light in Mikeys eyes that he hasn’t seen in so many many years, and Donnie believes him. (Hence the comic above) And there you have it so far XD haha this is waaaaaay near the end of my story buuuut, these parts are the most clear in my mind. I hope all this makes sense and is not too confusing!

Did You Just?

Hi guys! I’m really sorry that I’ve not been able to post for so long buut finally here’s something for you! Though, this imagine is shorter than my others.

Also, I would just like to mention that it will be really difficult for me to post very frequently but I will try my best. :)

Request: I adored “Don’t even Bother Denying it,” but now I want to know about that moment when she fell off his study desk! I mean, did he catch her? Was it awkward and adorable? I NEED ANSWERS (Does this count as an imagine request?)

Word Count: 559

Warnings: Mild language

You let out a frustrated groan, your head falling to your arms which rest crossed on your best friends study desk. Algebra was a subject that you hated more than any other and you would gladly admit that you were lucky to have Peter Parker as your second half; because of his genius level intellect when it came to this certain subject. Most students envied the fact that you’ve got such easy access to the probable best help that anyone could get at Midtown when it comes to math and you knew that.

Peter had always been humble about his smarts and he never showed it off but at this moment he sat on the carpeted floor of his bedroom, laughing his butt off at your struggle with a subject that has always been unbelievably easy for him. It wasn’t that he was laughing at you for being bad at it–no, he was laughing at the attitude you held at it.

“You know, Parker,” You mumble, your face smushed into the fabric of Peter’s jersey that covered your arms and torso. “You could at least try not to be such an ass about this.”

“I’m not trying to,” He laughs. It’s a melodious sound that you just couldn’t get enough of. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.” You mumble,criss-crossing your legs. You sit atop of Peter’s study desk, his papers and your own papers sprawled across the wooden surface that surrounds you. Peter nods, smiling at you cheekily. Rolling your eyes, you lean over and lightly punch his shoulder. It did nothing to waver him.

“Focus, Y/N,” Peter says, placing the tip of his pen on the page of the textbook you were working with. “You’re not going to learn anything if you don’t pay attention to the task.”

“Actually, Peter, I’ve had enough of this.” You groan. Peter raises an eyebrow at you. The two of you had literally started ten minutes ago.

“No–no!” Peter blurts. To him, his scores on his tests were one of the most important things for him at the moment. He doesn’t know about you, but he knows that if you fail classes then your parents won’t let you spend time with him the way that you currently do. “You’re parents already think I’m a distraction, what would they think if I let you fail?”

“I won’t fail, Peter.”

“Yes you–”

Thump.

Ow.”

You stare at Peter, your eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape. He mirrors your expression his eyebrows raised so high they could probably form a roof over his head.

Peter Parker has never been one for sappy romances. Especially the ‘I fell in love with my best friend since childhood’ type. It was just too cheesy. But his realisation hits him like bricks, making him feel stupider than ever. He’s fallen in love with his best friend. He’s fallen in love with you. It’s not like he didn’t see it coming it’s just that he had been pushing whatever small feelings he had felt for you straight to the back of his mind, hoping they would wither away over time.

But of all the times that he could have realised his love for you, why now?

He decides to break the silence.

“Did you just–did you just–”

“Yes.”

“You just fell off of my table, you bloody idiot.”

Burnt Chocolate Chip (Damian Wayne x mom!reader)

Warnings: fluff ☁
Pairings : bruce wayne x reader, damian wayne x mom!reader
a/n: I had fun writing this one! Remember to keep requesting :) Enjoy!

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The rain poured heavily on the city streets while you walked to your car outside of the GCPD. Commissioner Gordon had let you go home after solving a tiring murder case. “Go home. See your family.” He had said while you returned a friendly smile and a thank you. “Oh and say hello to Bruce for me.” He added.

And you couldn’t wait to get home to your husband and especially your kid, Damian. well, he wasn’t really your son, but you loved him nonetheless as if he were yours. You started the ignition and waited for the motor to heat up. Fall in Gotham, you were sure, was disliked by most. it’s cold temperatures of 58 degrees and nonstop rain made any homeless person curse the city. You were fond of it, in way.

As you arrived at the manor, the walk from your car to the front door left you drenched in rain water. You knocked on the door, Alfred being the one to answer.

“Mistress Wayne!” He gasped, rushing you inside. “Come in, come in.”

“Thank you Alfred.” You smiled, shivering a little, the droplets of rain from your coat hitting the marble floors of the main lobby.

“From now on, I will make sure to provide you with transport.” Alfred smiled, taking your soaked coat and purse, replacing both with a warm blanket. “This is, by all means, not tolerable.”

“Not it is not.” You agreed. “And we’ve been over this, address me by (Y/N), not ‘Mistress Wayne’. It makes me feel aged.”

“I will try to remember.” He replied as you heard footsteps approach.

“Mother?” The voice of your beloved son called.

“Dami.” You smiled, walking in his direction and giving him a big hug, a kiss on his forehead following afterwards. “How’s my favorite champ?”

He hugged you back, kissing your cheek, something he had done regularly since you married Bruce. “I am expecting you can already guess what I am up to.”

“Let’s see…” You playfully tried to figure. “Flour, eggs. Have you been baking?”

“It is to remain a surprise. ” He informed. “Meet me at the salon.”

“Alright.” You heeded. “I’ll be there. I better see those delights waiting for my hungry self.”

“You won’t be disappointed, Mother.” He assured you with pride. “They will be the best ones you’ve ever tried.”

“Okay, Dami.” You rushed him to go back to his baking cookies, which he ran back to.

Sighing conently, you felt a pair of large arms hug you from behind your waist.

“Caught any killers today?” Bruce greeted, lightly kissing your neck.

“Mhmm.” You replied, then sighing once more. “It was a girl. Sixteen. Killed another one by hanging her like a pork chop in a meat place. All because of vengeance.”

“It’s horrible.” Your husband agreed. “But that’s just some off the things you have to deal with when working with criminals.”

“Don’t act like you don’t too.” You teased, turning around to face him.

“I do.” He smiled, something you so rarely saw him do in front of anyone except you, and sweetly pecked your lips. “Did you see Damian yet?”

“Are you helping him bake?” You answered his question with one of your own.

He shook his head slightly. “The day he needs help will be the day you retire from your job.”

Which means never, you thought smiling. Bruce held your chin in between his fingers and said, “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

“Stop playing around, Bruce.” You shied away, laughing. “I have to go get a shower.”

“Well I would join you, but call time is in twenty minutes. I have to get everything ready.” He replied, kissing you one last time before walking the opposite direction.

-

After putting on comfortable clothing, you walked towards the fireplace where Damian had told you he would be. And there he was, not how you would expect him to be.

He sat in a chair by the burning fireplace, his head lowered. The cookies he had baked resting on a nearby table.

“Damian,” You called. “What’s wrong?”

He kept his gaze down. That said it all. Deciding to cheer and reassure him, you carefully picked one of his delicious-smelling cookies and took your first bite.

“Hmm…” You smiled, knowing you had your son’s full attention by now. “I think it’s…”

His eyes widened in anticipation.

“The best ones that I’ve ever tried!” You exclamied, tackling him with tickles, his laughter making you the happiest person in the world. If the rest of the boys were here, their jaws would oh-so-cartooningly touch the floor, for they saw Damian as someone with no feelings at all. Oh but he had them. You were just the first one to listen, the first one to bring them out to light.

“I can’t believe you thought I was not going to like them.” You joked, eating your fifth cookie in a row. “These are great.”

“Of course they are.” Damian proudfully assured. “They were just a little burnt.”

You shrugged. “If there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that burnt chocolate chip is one of my favorite flavors.”

“Really?” He asked.

“Really.” You smiled, him as well. Both of you kept conversing and Damian actually enjoying his own culinary creation.

All Bruce could do was feel complete for the first time in years, as he watched you both from afar, leaning against the doorway with a content smile.

Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent Imagine

Request: “can you write something where Bruce and Clark both fall for the reader, and it’s just basically a lot flirting and them being super jealous, you can decide who she ends up with (pls let it be Bruce ;))))”

Not as much flirting but i hope you enjoyed it. I’m really sorry you had to wait too!!!xxx

Bruce and Clark try to win you over at a party.

“I really don’t think anyone else here can stand as elegantly as you do in black, may i say Miss (y/l/n)” Bruce complimented.

You hummed, “Oh really?”

“Yes really.”

“Well you’re not as smart as i thought you were Mr Wayne if you can’t look past her beauty and see that her intelligence and personality are equally brilliant.” Clark interrupted.

You placed your hand on Bruce and Clark’s chests, steadying them as they bore into each other’s eyes.

“I came here to have a nice time, not to be mummy and stop you two from bickering like children.”

“Well if Bruce h-”

“No no;” Bruce cut off, leaving Clark to be silenced in clear frustration, “ She’s right.”

Bruce grabbed two glasses of champagne off a tray held by a waiter passing by, and offered you one. Graciously, you took it, smiling and muttering a quiet thank you. Bruce smirked softly, as Clark was left standing awkwardly still, as Bruce didn’t bother to offer him a glass at all.

Bruce went to open his mouth when Clark shook his head,

“No, it’s fine.” he said, slightly annoyed, “I don’t need to drink away my soul to have a good night.”

You smiled into your drink, and Clark’s eyes raised in a coming realisation that you, in fact, loved your champagne…

“Oh no no- i d-didn’t mean that in a condescending way (y/n) no i really- I’m so-”

"Clark,” You laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder, “,It’s fine.”

“Just because you’re basically a God, that doesn’t mean you can be the party pooper Clark.” Bruce teased, “Let the lady drink if she wants to.”

Clark stood up straight. “I’m not trying to stand above everyone else Bruce, and i’ll let anyone do whatever they want within reason,” Clark picked up a champagne glass for himself from a waiter passing by, “Even if it means adopting every child they see.”

You held back the champagne in your mouth, your eyes cautiously watching Bruce’s face. Bruce adjusted his stance, his eyes beginning to bore into Clarks innocent smile.

“At least i use my money to help those in need.”

“I don’t need money. I can fly.”

“Well i can-”

“Alright aright come on guys,” You stood between the two with a smile on your face.

Did you want it to continue? Yes. Yes you absolutely did.

But did it need to stop? Unfortunately, yes.

“You’re both just as good as each other. But together, ” You began linking your arms with both Clark and Bruce, “You make each other better. The world can’t be saved if we have a bat and an alien fighting and bickering. What use it that?”

You then let go, and turned to Clark, placing both your hands on his shoulders,

“Now i really appreciate your feelings about me Clark, and you’re one of the most gentle, kindest, loving, ” Bruce rolled his eyes and sculled his drink, “,men i have ever met, and any lady would be lucky to have you. And that lady,” You turned him around and pointed towards Lois, who was chatting away.

“Is right, there.” Clark turned to you.

“S-she- are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Your feelings for her are stronger than your feelings for mine.”

And so with a spark of confidence in his step that you hadn’t seen before, you watched as Clark walked off, kindly asking Lois to excuse herself and dance with him.

“I didn’t know your middle name was Cupid.” Bruce remarked. You turned around, a smirk on your face.

“You know,” Bruce began, “I don’t actually adopt every kid I see,”

Bruce strolled a little closer to you,

“Oh I know,” You said. You smirked as you fixed his bow tie, your hands almost resting on his chest. “Just the orphans.”

-Beginning to write again! Apologies, For those who have requested, it’s coming i promise!

-Also, it’s almost a running joke within the fandom of bruce adopting every orphan child he sees, and i also mean no disrespect to any offended by the orphan line.

Feel Better? - Tony x Reader

Prompt:  Hey Kate! Can I request some Tony with “did you just whistle at me?” as the prompt? Thanks hun!

Author’s notes: Thanks for this request, Dear. This was a lot of fun to write!

Notes/ Warnings: None really, some fluff and kissing, though.

Originally posted by tonystrk

  Tony wasn’t one to work out in front of the other avengers. He just didn’t like it. That and he didn’t have anyone to work out with. Steve had Bucky, Natasha had Clint and lately Sam and Wanda had been doing all of their sparring together. He thought about asking you but figured it wasn’t the best way to test the strength of your relationship so, he never bothered. For now, the sand bags and dummies would do.

 You watched from the window as he made blow after blow to his faux enemies. He was wearing sweatpants, that he had pulled up to his knees, tennis shoes and an undershirt. It was tight against his muscles and you could see the sweat beading at the top of his forehead. He wasn’t one to go easy on himself, and you knew that.

Keep reading

4

AU where Dib and Zim end up getting stuck in a cursed forest that otherwise functions as a purgatory on Earth–Limbo.

Any time they both die, they get sent back to where they first fell down and Zim is the one who remembers each failure and is increasingly more and more upset at how bad Dib is at not dying. He has to keep going back to the start because he loses his motivation to do anything if his nemesis is gone.

Maybe one day they’ll make a perfect run and get out of there.

I needed to do this crossover hhhhhhhhhh

Also not good at painting which is how I did this entire thing in save for the panels and character lineart. Rip