did he ever carry one of those things on his shoulder or

21.

While Scully sleeps Mulder watches the shadows move. He thinks about the telescope he had as a kid. He hardly needs one now. The sky is so dark, the stars are so close.

His arm still aches from the graves he dug back in Scully’s town. She hasn’t said anything about it since they left, but she must have known them all.

After her abduction, after she came back, he’d felt like every day she’d been gone was a bridge he needed to cross. It was just a few months, but he felt those lost moments acutely. And this time they lost a year and a half.

He’ll never get those moments back, not any of them. And he knows — he does — that some part of Scully is always, has always been fundamentally unknowable, but now he can’t even pretend. Her white-knuckle grip on her Smith & Wesson, the steel in her eyes.

Mulder lies down and reaches for her, pulling her close. In sleep he knows her as well as he ever has. Her body curves against him, her fingers twine with his.

Eventually the humid air and the deep silence of the forest lure him into sleep, but what feels like just seconds later, he’s startled awake. Scully sits up shaking, bracing herself on her hands. Her eyes open, staring out into the night. He grabs her wrist. “Scully?”

“Will.” Scully breathes deep and closes her eyes again, like she’s trying to go back to wherever she was a few minutes ago. “He’s alive. He was reaching out.”

Yeah, he’s had that dream too. He tries to say it gently. “Are you sure it wasn’t a dream?”

The glare she turns on him is deadlier than any gun. “I know the difference.”

From inside Scully’s bag, something buzzes. They look at each other. What it sounds like is something impossible, a sound they both would’ve sworn they’d forgotten. It sounds like a cell phone, vibrating in the bag.

Mulder is the one who gets up to open it. It doesn’t take long to find the source; they don’t carry much. “It’s the radio,” he says, holding it up for her to see. “Just static.”

But Scully doesn’t seem relieved. She scoots back, away from him. “What’s powering it, Mulder?”

He swallows. “Oh.”

The radio buzzes and hums. It’s Scully’s hand-crank radio from back at the settlement; the dial is still set to the station Mulder was broadcasting on.

And somehow, his own voice comes out through the speaker. “This is Radio Nowhere—”

Mulder sets the radio down on the ground and steps away, like it might suddenly catch fire or spontaneously combust. His own voice keeps pouring out, things he remembers saying, days or weeks ago. When he turns to look at Scully her face is white.

And the voice on the radio changes. “Fox Mulder,” it says.

He shudders, then concentrates, trying to place the voice: the slight slurring, the way the voice hangs on the long consonants.

It says, “It’s not too late, Fox.”

Scully is quicker than he is. “Is that—”

He shakes his head, hard. It can’t be, he won’t allow it to be.

The radio says, “Do you think you can find him before we do?”

“Jesus,” Mulder exhales. There are enough horrors in the new world without the dead rising up to taunt him. “I’m hallucinating, right? This is a hallucination.“ It wouldn’t be the first time.

Scully’s lips are a thin line, grim. She doesn’t say a word.

It says, “Remember how long it took you to find your sister, Fox. Remember what was left when you did.”

Hours pass.

They don’t crank the radio, but it runs on its own power now. They can’t turn it off, and he can’t bring himself to change the dial. The station goes quiet for hours at a time; when it broadcasts, it’s exactly the same as before. A recording, then. That doesn’t comfort him.

“What if we’re going the wrong way?” Scully asks. They’ve stopped to rest somewhere on the side of the mountain, in the shade of a particularly toxic-looking tree. They’ve barely spoken since the radio turned on hours ago. Their fear simmers in the heat.

He can’t stop thinking about Samantha. How she was taken from him so easily; how now, more than forty years later, the same men are trying to steal his son. It feels impossible. That part of his life was supposed to be over.

He is not supposed to still be so powerless.

“You’re the one with a direct line,” Mulder snaps. “Why don’t you ask him?”

Scully grits her teeth and ignores him, which is almost too bad. He feels like fighting — it has to be better than wandering through the woods with no plan.

Mulder cranes his neck back to stare up into the canopy. It’s silent, eerie, not a bird or breeze in sight. As he watches, a plume of smoke creeps up through the trees. The sight is so unfamiliar that it takes him a second to realize what it must mean.

“Scully,” he says.

Her eyes follow his. They watch the smoke dissipate. “Come on,” she says.

Walking as softly as they’re able, they make their way through the green to the source of the smoke. Next to him, Scully’s voice is barely a whisper. “There are men up here,” she says. “Up in these woods. We’d see their fires at night. People said they were killers, cannibals and worse.”

“People say a lot of things,” Mulder says. “Maybe it’s Will.” Probably not, but what other leads do they have?

After a few minutes they hear voices. Mulder puts his hand on his gun.

A baby cries.

He turns to Scully, but she’s already walking ahead of him, her footsteps getting quicker, less cautious. Mulder follows a few steps behind.

“I know them,” she says out loud, more to herself than to him.

There are a handful of people standing in a circle. Arguing, from what it sounds like. There are a couple of women Will’s age; one of them holds a baby. Mulder can’t see the source of the smoke.

One of the men facing away from them looks familiar: about Mulder’s height, young. For a split second he thinks it’s Will, but no: his hair is too light, his shoulders too broad.

The man turns around.

Through the trees they lock eyes. Mulder hears Scully’s footsteps stop, somewhere off to the side, but he doesn’t look away.

A dozen distinct emotions pass over Matt’s face before he finally settles on some toxic combination of sorrow and shame. It’s an easy expression for Mulder to read — he wore it for twenty-five years.

Matt shakes his head, just slightly.

And Mulder knows that Will is gone.

the-queen-sees-all  asked:

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

-

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

-

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

-

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

-

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

-

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

-

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

-

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

-

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

-

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

-

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

@thunderboltsortofapenny said: No no let’s do this! Why would steve need to be fake married. Or why would bucky need to be fake married to Steve. We need a reason. #Viper do the thing #It’ll be fun!

So I did the thing, and it’s stupid and terrible, but here, have it:


Bucky’s an EMT. Normal guy, just living his life, trying to help where he can. And then one day, all of a sudden, the aliens are invading NYC, and Bucky’s out there helping, right in the middle of the danger zone because of course he is.

There’s a fight going on, and a bunch of freaks in weird suits seem to be fighting the aliens, but Bucky doesn’t have much time to focus on anything other than all the people in dire need of medical attention. He does what he can to help, grabs the first metal bar he can find and fights only the aliens getting in his way, and works himself to exhaustion. Then there’s a blast, and it sends a man flying right into the wall next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, rushing to help him, and though Bucky could’ve sworn the blow was hard enough to crush anyone’s ribs, he’s surprised to see the man–who must’ve been on his way to a costume party–stand up practically unscathed.

He’s got broad shoulders and a strong jaw and eyes of the prettiest shade of blue Bucky’s ever seen, and even with his face covered in soot and grime and blood, Bucky’s heart skips a beat.

For a few seconds the man seems a bit disoriented, then he finally registers Bucky’s presence. “What are you doing here?? Get out of the streets!”

“I was–” Bucky starts, and is cut off by an explosion right above their heads and a bunch of debris raining down on them, and a hand shoving him aside.

When he comes to, which is a surprise in itself, the dust has started to clear, and the man who’s clearly saved his life is carrying him as if he weighed nothing, concern in those beautiful eyes and a big, warm hand pressed tenderly against Bucky’s neck, checking for a pulse.

He locks eyes with Bucky and sighs in relief, the hint of a smile on his plush lips, but the hand remains where it is. “Hi,” he says. “You all right?”

“Y-yeah… Thank you,” Bucky replies, but he doesn’t move to free himself of the man’s arms. His stomach is doing something weird, and the man surely has other people to rescue, but for a few seconds they both just stay there, shell-shocked and staring at each other like the world around them has stopped.

Then something blows up nearby, and the spell is broken.

Carefully, the man helps him to his feet, makes sure Bucky’s in one piece, and then says, “Find shelter, okay? Stay inside.”

Bucky’s not planning to, but he can’t find it in him to tell that to this incredible man, so he slowly licks his lips and nods. Before turning around to leave, the man offers him a small, shy smile.

- - - - -

During the next few weeks after the Chitauri attack on NYC, every single piece of footage of the Avengers fighting against the aliens and helping civilians goes viral. Phone videos, security cameras, blurry pics.

The most popular, by far, is a snapshot of Captain America carrying a guy, who can be seen fighting aliens and helping people in other videos, bridal style, thumb caressing his jaw, and both looking like lovestruck teenagers.

Bucky can’t go to the grocery store or even do his job without being stalked by the paparazzi or Cap’s groupies or just random people wanting to know what his Avenger name is, and for how long he’s been dating Captain America.

- - - - -

“You’ve ruined my life!!” Bucky tells him, because of course, of course Captain America would pick Bucky’s park for his morning run. Of course Bucky’d slip on wet leaves on the pavement precisely this morning, and of fucking course Captain America would just happen to be around to catch him at just the right time. Bucky’s seeing red.

“I’m sorry,” Captain America says, and it’s extremely unfair just how genuine and how much like a kicked puppy he looks.

Christ, Bucky wants to punch him.

- - - - -

Steve’s been living in PR hell.

He’s spent the past weeks “saving” girls and boys alike from getting hit by a bicycle, or fainting, or a fuckton of equally stupid shit.

The second anyone spots Captain America, there’ll suddenly be some kind of dangerous situation going down, and someone hoping Cap will carry them bridal style to safety and maybe fall head over heels in love with them in the process.

Steve is tired and done and ready to get back in the ice for another few decades, and shares Pepper’s worries that someone might actually put themself in real danger soon.

“We should handle this before it gets worse,” Nat says. And Steve agrees, of course, but he just doesn’t know how.

“Just marry the guy,” Clint suggests.

Steve almost chokes to death on his own spit.

“WHAT?”

Clint shrugs. “Why not? Half the world already thinks you’re dating…”

“Clint, he hates me…”

“Only cause people keep pestering him about this. If you two get married it’ll be a circus, but then it’ll blow over. He can’t even do his job right now, right? So you pay the guy for the trouble, yadda yadda, then when this is over you two get a quick divorce, and that’s it. Problem solved.”

For two minutes, no one else opens their mouth. Then:

“He’s got a point…”

“Tony, no,” Steve whines.

“You saw the footage, how he was helping those civilians… If you have to marry someone, he’s not a bad candidate,” Nat says, and then smirks. “Plus, he’s cute.”

Steve already knows he’s lost this battle, but that doesn’t help him feel any better about this. Yes, he’s cute. Yes, he’s a brave and kind and smart guy. Yes, Steve could very easily pretend to be married to him for a while and yes it’d help them both. None of that’s the problem.

The problem is that he kind of really likes the guy.

The problem is that the guy hates him.

This is a really, really bad idea.

Penelope & Derek’s Matchmaking Service

Originally posted by theonewiththevows

Prompt: The reader and Reid both have a crush on the other person but are too scared of ruining their friendship to tell the other person. Penelope decided to give them a little push and drags Derek into her mischevious scheme.

A/N: This was an idea that popped into my head because I could definitely see Morgan and Garcia meddling in their coworkers love lives. I’m not opposed to making a part two of this, so let me know if that’s something that you would want. Also, anyone who can catch the subtle F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reference that is in here somewhere is my favorite person ever. Enjoy :)

Note: (Y/F/C) = your favorite candy

Warning: nothing

Word Count: 3k

Rating: PG


Penelope sighed in frustration as she watched you and Spencer alternate staring at each other. It was almost painful the way that neither of you actually caught the other doing so. It was like some form of fate caused you to look away a second before Spencer decided to look up. Derek noticed her standing in the doorway. “Hey Baby Girl,” he called and walked over to her. She muttered a “hello” before huffing and crossing her arms. “Whoa whoa whoa, what’s the matter gorgeous? Those processing systems in that big brain of yours hung up on something?”

“How does it not drive you crazy?” she mumbled and Morgan raised an eyebrow at her. 

“How does what not drive me crazy?”

“The two of them!” she whisper-shouted and spun around walking off toward her lair. Derek rolled his eyes, but obediently followed her down the hall. 

“Gonna need a little more information sweetness,” he told her, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Oh c’mon, do I need to spell it out for you? (Y/N) and Spencer. The way those two are pining after each other it’s both sickening and sweet at the same time. I’m not even a profiler and I can tell that they are head over heels. I mean I know (Y/N) is because she told me one night when I got her super drunk with the intent of forcing the information out of her, but that is beside the point,” Penelope explained as she pulled up the bullpen’s security video feed and maneuvered the cameras so they were facing you and Spencer’s desks. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m people watching.”

“Do you do this all the time?” Morgan asked standing behind her chair.

“Only when we don’t have a case or anything else to do,” Penelope defended, “You would not believe how boring it gets in here and you people never come visit me!” 

“But why- you know what nevermind. Just please tell me that you don’t mess with the cameras in my office.”

“My vision, you are the object of my affection but for the most part my attentions have been focussed on my current OTP as you never do anything interesting in your office.”

“Forgive me for actually doing work instead of making googly eyes at my coworkers.”

“So you have noticed!”

“Of course I’ve noticed. The whole team has noticed. The only ones in the dark about it are the two of them,” Derek chuckled. Penelope smiled as she watched the two of you. You had gone over to ask Spencer something, but he had been so focused on his work you’d startled him and he’d almost spilled his coffee all over himself. 

“They are so cute,” she sighed, “Derek I want my OTP to be together!”

“Somehow I don’t think we get a vote or have the power to make that happen,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. Penelope suddenly perked up. 

“But what if we did?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as she spun her chair around. 

“What if there was a way that we could force Reid’s hand and make him admit something or ask her out?”

“Baby Girl, Reid has specifically told me that he doesn’t want me messing with this. You think I haven’t tried to get him to make a move?”

“He told you that, but he never told me,” she chirped, turning back toward her computer and started typing away. She pulled up a website for custom floral arrangements and started clicking on various options. 

“What are you doing?”

“Creating something that all of you men hate. Competition,” she replied, patting the side of his face. A few more minutes of meddling the order had been placed, ready to be delivered tomorrow morning. 

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be the one he blames for this?” Derek sighed shaking his head. 

“Ha, do not worry my vision. If all goes bad, we pretend like it never happened,” Penelope told him.


You walked into the bullpen the next morning smiling happily as you carried two cups of coffee. You glanced around looking for Spencer, before nonchalantly setting one of the cups down on his desk and arranged the mountain of sugar packets you’d also brought into an orderly pile. You quickly scurried back to your desk and sat down, trying to look casual as you waited for Spencer to arrive. “No coffee for the rest of us, I’m genuinely hurt,” Derek teased, as he sat down on your desk.

“Hey, the only order I remember is Spence’s because it’s the easiest thing ever: a large black coffee and then just bring the whole container of sugar to him,” you replied trying to casually look around him. 

“Uh huh,” Morgan muttered, clearly unconvinced. 

“Good morning,” Reid said as he walked over to his desk past the two of you. 

“Hi, Spencer,” you chirped, “I stopped for coffee this morning and brought you some.”

“Thank you so much, you would not believe the morning I’ve had. How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Well, thank you. Did you know that coffee was banned three times in three different cultures: once in Mecca in the 16th century, once when Charles II in Europe banned the drink in an attempt to quiet an ongoing revolution, and once when Frederick the Great banned coffee in Germany in 1677 because he was concerned people were spending too much money on the drink,” he rambled. You smiled and shoved Morgan off of your desk, so you could actually see Spencer. 

“Well, I didn’t know that, but I do know that banning coffee should be a crime,” you giggled. Reid smiled back at you and opened his mouth to say something but suddenly went pale. “What’s-”

“I have a delivery for a Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” a man said cutting you off. 

“That would be me,” you replied, turning around. “What can..I..do..” you stuttered as you came face to face with a huge vase of lilies and red roses. 

“Sign here please,” the delivery man said, handing you a clipboard and setting the vase down on your desk. You scribbled your signature down on the form and handed it back to the man. “Have a nice day,” he said walking away. 

“Yeah, you too,” you muttered still too focussed on your flowers. 

“Oh my god, those are gorgeous,” JJ mentioned as she walked over to your desk. 

“Who are they from?” Emily asked, joining the two of you.

“I have no idea,” you replied, pulling the card off the side of the vase. 

“Read it,” JJ urged leaning in closer. None of you noticed that Spencer had unconsciously leaned closer to the group as well trying to listen. 

“Nothing can ever compare to your beauty, but these flowers are certainly a nice way to compliment it. I hope these make that lovely smile of yours appear on your face, signed your secret admirer,” you read out loud and closed the card. 

“Oooh, this is interesting,” Emily said nudging your shoulder. 

“Any idea who it could be?” JJ asked. 

“Not a clue,” you replied, sitting back down in your chair, “I’m not seeing anyone and no one has asked me out recently.”

“Anyone who you hope it is?” 

“Yeah, but considering he hasn’t shown the slightest sign of interest I’m pretty sure it isn’t him,” you mumbled. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had wandered away into the break room fuming. This happened every time he’d finally work up the courage to ask you out on a date or flirt with you at all something would happen. Morgan would come interrupt,  Hotch would suddenly announce that you had a case, or in this case, some jerk would write you poetry and send you flowers. He downed the rest of the coffee that you had bought him and started making another cup. 

“You ok, Pretty Boy?” Derek asked watching Spencer stir the coffee quite angrily. 

“Just peachy,” Spencer growled. 

“Ya know, you could just ask her out. (Y/N) has no idea who sent her those flowers,” Derek casually mentioned. 

“Ha yeah right, I’m reasonably certain she’d rather have fancy flower man whoever he is,” he grumbled. 

“Fancy flower man? Really Reid, that’s the best you can come up with?” Derek asked trying not to laugh. 

“I have plenty of other vulgar things I could call him so don’t push it.”

“Hey, I’m not the one encroaching on your girl, but I would recommend you do something about it before you loose her to fancy flower man.”

“You think I should what?”

“Well, you’re her friend. I’m pretty sure you can find a way to top the giant array of flowers that he sent her.”

“I definitely could,” Spencer muttered, deep in thought, “I need to get to work but first I’m going to get Garcia to figure out who sent those to her.”

“Uh,” Derek stuttered, trying to come up with a way to divert him, “Why does it matter who it is? You should be more concerned with your plan to woo her, you can worry about who it was later.”

“You’re right. I’m going to take my lunch early. I need to go get a few things,” Spencer said and quickly rushed back to his desk to grab his wallet. Derek sighed in relief, happy that he’d managed to redirect Reid’s thought process, and made himself a cup of coffee. Your sudden presence in the break room caught his attention. “And where are you going lady of the hour?” he asked sipping his coffee.

“I’m grabbing another sugar for my coffee and then I’m going to get Garcia to find out who this admirer person is.” Derek did a spit take and started coughing. “Whoa, you ok?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. But maybe you should just let this play out? See if he reveals himself to you?”

“Derek, I just want to know who it is so I can tell him I’m not interested. There’s only one guy who’s attention I want and he seems to not really care.”

“Sweetness, Reid is a great guy just a little awkward and shy when it comes to ladies, you might try being a bit more obvious about it,” he teased. You furrowed your brow and slowly turned your head toward him. 

“How did you know I have a crush on Spencer?”

“I’m a profiler and I’m really good at my job.” Derek replied.

“Yeah sometimes I forget what we do for a living.”

“And the fact that Penelope can’t keep her mouth shut,” he muttered quietly to himself. Just not quiet enough.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!”

“I’m going to kill her!” you growled and stormed off toward Penelope’s office. 

“No no no, wait!” Derek shouted as he chased after you. You tore the door open and walked in. 

“Hello my lovely, what can I do for you today?” Penelope chirped. You narrowed your eyes at her before flicking her on the side of the head. 

“OW!” she shrieked. “What was that for?” 

“I cannot believe you told Derek that I like Spencer. I told you that in confidence and you swore you wouldn’t tell another soul,” you fumed.

“Technically you told me that while you were drunk.”

“Same thing!”

“But you know I tell my chocolate thunder everything, so you should’ve expected this.”

“Ugh, my life is over,” you whined. “Spencer is still acting weird and now some stranger has sent me flowers. Can you make yourself useful and tell me who sent those at least?”

“I take offense to that comment!”

“Who told shared a secret that she swore she would take to the grave?”

“Fine,” she muttered, “but I already know who sent them. I looked it up earlier.”

“Then who is it?”

“It’s uh, Brian in payroll,” 

“Brian in payroll?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, twisting a piece of hair around her finger.

“Uh huh, does Brian in payroll have a last name?” you asked crossing your arms.

“Yes, yes he definitely does.”

“Yeah? What it is then?”

“Well, I can tell you that it is most certainly not Morgan or Garcia.”

“Penelope,” you groaned. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m just trying to spice it up, you know force our dearest doctor’s hand.”

“Yes and in doing that you’ve managed to scare him. He took off fifteen minutes ago,” you grumbled flopping down in the chair beside her. 

“Aw, sweets it’s gonna be ok.”

“My life is over.”

“Hey look on the bright side, at least you got some bitchin flowers,” she said trying to lighten the mood. You lifted your head and glared at her.

“Not funny.” 

“(Y/N), you need to get back to your desk and take a look at this,” Derek said as he walked into Penelope’s office.

“And you! You knew she was going to do this and you didn’t stop her,” you growled and stalked over to him, poking his chest. 

“As upset as you are right now, I really think you should just go back to your desk. You might like what you find,” Derek replied pushing your hand away. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“If this is another part of this BS plan you two have going on, I’m going to kill you both,” you grumbled, stalking down the hallway. 

“What are you doing?” Penelope whispered at Derek, as they followed you. 

“Just watch,” he replied with a smug look on his face. You were expecting to see yet another bouquet of flowers that the two of them had sent to you, but you certainly weren’t expecting this. Your desk was scattered with various pieces of paper and rose petals. A large white teddy bear was sitting in your chair with a bouquet of gardenias nestled in its arms and a bag of (Y/F/C) tucked in beside it. You stood rooted in place out of surprise until Derek gave you a slight nudge. You walked forward and picked up one of the pieces of paper. You smiled as you recognized Spencer’s handwriting and started reading. It was a poem by Christina Rossetti, one of your favorites actually “I loved you first”. You had talked about this with Spencer months ago, when you both discovered your shared love of poetry. From the looks of it, he had managed to write down all of your favorite poems on these little notes (probably including a few of his own favorites) and put them all over your desk. You plucked the bouquet of gardenias out of the bear’s arms and smelled them. 

“Red roses traditionally symbolize love and passion while gardenias’ symbolize pure, secret love which more accurately displays how I feel about you,” Spencer mumbled from behind you. You immediately spun around and dropped the bouquet back in your chair, before throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips into his. He seemed to be stunned for a few seconds, before kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist. Hoots and hollers came from all around the office, mainly from Penelope and Emily. You separated a little breathlessly and rested your forehead against his. The pair of you were smiling from ear to ear. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream,” he muttered closing his eyes. 

“Nope,” you replied popping the “p”, “I’m real.”

“So I take it you like me too or else I think you’ve been sending some very mixed signals.” You chuckled and kissed him again. 

“Does that answer your question?” you asked, after you’d pulled back. 

“I think it does, and to think I had a whole speech planned out to make you at least go on one date with me,” he replied scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. You just shook your head and smiled at him.

“That’s so sweet, but how on earth did you have time to set this up? I couldn’t have been gone more than fifteen minutes,” you said, turning slightly to look at your desk,

“14 minutes and 23 seconds actually, but I’ve had the notes sitting in my bag for about a week now,” he told you. 

“Ok, that’s enough, back to work all of you,” Hotch said, commotion having finally drawn him out of his office. There was a collective “sorry” muttered from around the office, before Hotch turned his attention to the two of you. “Do we need to have a conversation or can I trust that this isn’t going to affect work?”

“I think we’re good,” you answered. 

“Good, now I need to call Dave and inform him that he owes me twenty bucks as do the two of you,” Hotch chuckled motioning JJ and Emily. The two women groaned slightly before reaching for their purses. 

“Wait, what?” Spencer asked raising an eyebrow, keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“To make a long story short, we started a pool going for how long it would take the two of you to get together after three months of watching the two of you flirt. I had yesterday, Hotch had today, Rossi had tomorrow, and JJ had next Monday,” Emily explained as she walked up the stairs and handed the money to Hotch, who gladly pocketed it and went back in his office to presumably call Rossi who was off on vacation time. 

“I cannot believe this! How many people in this office are invloved in our love lives?” you cried in frustration, even though you were smiling. 

“Wait, who else is involved in our love life?” Spencer asked, looking down at you confused. 

“And that’s our cue to run chocolate thunder,” Penelope muttered, as she took off running dragging Derek along behind her. You shook your head and laughed, all irritation suddenly vanishing. 

“Wonder what that was about,” Reid thought out loud, as you unwound from his arms and moved all his gifts out of your chair. 

“Don’t worry about it, just remind me to tell Brian from payroll to send her some flowers,” you told him. He looked very confused but just shrugged and kissed your forehead. You grinned up at him, knowing that this was the start of one of the best times in your life. 

Enough is Enough

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,067

Warnings: slight panic attack, language, asshole Dean 

Request: Can I request an imagine where the reader lives with the brothers at the bunker & Dean is always a jerk to her & then one day she has a panic attack & then fluff ensues…

Summary: Reader has lived & hunted with the boys for 3 years & usually puts up with Dean being a dick pretty well. One night, she can’t take anymore and has a panic attack.

A/N: Enjoy!! Feedback greatly appreciated!! And thank you to @mamapeterson for just reading over this before I posted it lol wasn’t too confident on it tbh but I hope y’all like it!!

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The player on center ice

A Check Please Soulmate AU


Yes, another one. This is a one-shot.

Warnings: time-travel. Don’t try to make sense of it, it’s just fluff.


Sometimes, your soulmate came back in time to give you a pep-talk. Not that you remembered who they were and what they said, but the feelings remained. 

This story is set during Bitty’s first year. 



Eric was about to quit hockey. He would quit hockey, then quit Samwell altogether, and go back to Georgia his tail between his legs and prove right every single person that said he wasn’t strong enough for such a manly sport.

Jack had chewed him out again- in front of everyone.


(more under the cut)

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Boredom Be Damned - Peter Parker

Originally posted by tomhollandisdaddy

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary:  Prompt #2: “You’re hot when you’re angry.”

All Peter wanted to do was get his homework done before adventuring into the night, but Y/N walks in and turns his study session into a flush session.

Requested: yes @myfriendmagislit

Warning: slight language

Here’s another request for #2! So excited to write this bc this user is the og:) hope you enjoY!!! This is also kinda long so oops lol and I HOPE YOU LIKE IT !!:-) @myfriendmagislit

MASTERLIST <———————-

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Were you supposed to be on your way to Peter’s right now? No. Did you tell Peter you were on your way to him right now? No.

You were bored as hell, it was as simple as that. You tried to entertain yourself in numerous ways, even attempting to do your pre-scheduled homework for tomorrow night. But that put your state of mind into greater boredom. So, you decided you would carry your bored, sorry ass all the way three blocks to Peter’s apartment. It’s not that you only did this when you were extremely bored, you did almost every day. It just turns out that today, Peter didn’t mention to you anything about working on homework or hanging out for the night. This surprised you to an extreme length, due to the fact you and Peter were stuck like glue all day, every day.

So, you being the nosy ass you were, you decided to investigate. Which worked out perfectly because you were bored as well! Of course your sneakiness did play a part in your feet carrying you to Peter’s that night, but it wasn’t only that. And it wasn’t just the boredom.

Maybe it was the pulsing excitement that ran through your veins every time Peter would run up to you with good news about his exciting double life. Or maybe it was the way your heart grew heavy in your chest when Peter’s lean, muscled body would sit closely next to you as you worked on homework, the heat radiating off his frame to hit yours. Or it might be just spending time with your best friend—correction, beautiful best friend, that caused your feelings to intensify as you got older. Maybe it was all of those things and more, that caused your mind to shift your boredom to Peter.

You admitted these intense feelings a while ago, your instinct immediately knowing your affection for the brown eyes, sweet smiling boy as soon as you laid your eyes on him ten years ago. Your friendship blossomed, consisting of ever lasting laughs and good times, it was what everyone dreamed of in a relationship.

The only problem was, the feeling was only one sided. To your dismay, they were extremely one sided. Your friends would constantly say otherwise, swearing that he looked at you the exact way you gazed at him, but you never saw it. You knew they were just trying to make you feel better. Especially due to the fact Liz Allen was someone who constantly popped up in conversations between you and Peter. This obviously made you feel instant loss and regret. But if Peter was happy, you were happy.

You slowly let your yearning thoughts of Peter vanish before arriving at Peter’s door. You sigh, grabbing the key underneath the mat Aunt May had told you about and open the door, the silence hitting you. You shut the door slowly, walking through the living room area, searching for Peter in the so far vacant house. As no sign of Peter approaches, you walk to his bedroom door, knowing that he’d be in there. Your knuckles hit lightly against the white door, shoving one hand  in your side jacket pocket and the other holding your thermos with water as you wait for the door to open.

You hear the jiggle of the door knob and and look up, seeing a wondrous sight that made your eyes look everywhere place in the world besides Peter’s eyes.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing here?” he questioned kindly, quirking his head to the side at your sudden appearance at his door. You tried to remember to breath as your eyes came in contact with a very shirtless, very ripped, and very hot Peter standing before you. Clutching your cup tightly,  your eyes lingered on his sculpted abs as your mouth stood agape at the sight before you.

Thank god for boredom. What would you without it?

“Y/N?” his voice quickly snapped your dirty thoughts of him out of your mind, disrupting everything good in this world. Y/E/C meets a playful brown as your mouth snaps shut, shaking your head vigorously as you leap out of a hazed state.

Almost breathlessly you rush out, “Oh! I-I was just really bored. Needed something to do,” you finish, shrugging your shoulders at your lousy interpretation of boredom.

He raised his eyebrows, opening the door farther for you to enter. You took note of his right muscle flexing at the stretch of his arm before he spoke, “Okay. Yeah, I’m just trying to get my homework done. Tony asked me to do something when I got done, and May’ll kill me if I leave without finishing it.”

You shook your head as a sign of understanding, noticing his seemingly stressed state as you sat down on his bed. He shut the door, turning towards you with his hands on his naked hips, “But yeah you can hang here, I’m just gonna finish the assignment for Algebra. You know how picky Ms. Roberts’ can be,” he chuckled lightly, smiling in your direction.

“Oh and those papers next to you are the chemistry homework, if you need to see it.“

You nodded, a close mouthed smile adorned your lips at his sweet gaze. He sighed before sitting down at his desk, continuing his work, leaving you there.

Is this a fucking joke? Is he seriously not going to put on a shirt? He’s never done this before! But, would you want him to? The view from here is fucking incredible. Boredom be damned.

Your eyes once again scaled his half naked body, but this time it was the back view you got to see. The lamp accompanied his brain in helping him finish his work, the remnants of the light shone on his back muscles. You felt your mouth open once again as you carved the muscles with your eyes, craving to run your fingers over every curve of his body. His bangin’ body was another added bonus to Peter Parker. His sweet smile, incredible personality, and extraordinary intelligence were the major factors that made you fall for him. But this, fuck. This was part of the premium package you didn’t know you had signed up for.

You dazedly watched his shoulder move with arm as he sketched the answer quickly on his paper, and sometimes bring his arm up and run his fingers through his ruffled brown locks. You suddenly remembered the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth, that had probably been there for minutes. You reached your arm up rapidly, attempting to wipe the drool silently and sneakily.

Well, that plan failed.

Because as soon as your hand hit the corner of your mouth, your elbow also hit your thermos, knocking it over and open, all over Peter’s chemistry homework that was lying next to you on his bed.

Fuck.

Eyes widened, your heart rate picked up as you made eye contact with the now soaking wet papers lying sloppily on his bed. A gasp emitted from your throat at the sight of the black ink spreading all over the drenched papers. ruining it even more. Well, your gasp awoke Peter from his intense gaze on his work to quickly looking behind him. His eyes grew at the sight of you directed to the now wet papers and thermos lying on top of them. Your mouth agape, you dared to look at Peter’s gaze hitting you like a brick wall.

He ran over to his ruined work, fingers picking up the wet paper, his gaze flashing from the homework to your guilty Y/E/C eyes staring deeply into his own, "Y/N WHAT THE HELL!”

You gaping lips barely stuttered out a response as you reached over and picked up the thermos, “P-Peter I’m so sorry! It was an accident I swear!” you rushed out, throwing the empty thermos to the ground before yanking the remaining papers off his bed and throwing them in the trash can next to you.

“Y/N THIS HOMEWORK TOOK ME FOREVER ARE YOU KIDDING ME. I WAS SO CLOSE TO BEING DONE! I CAN’T BELIEVE…”

Your eyes shut off instantly as Peter’s voice grew weak and strong at the same time, defeat yet anger taking over his demeanor. But, instead of listening to his rant about your previous actions, you watched his arms point from you to the papers, his bicep flexing every moment he stretched them. His eyebrows furrowed and raised at your gaze just staring at him like he’s speaking gibberish. But, you were noticing his arm and neck veins popping out at the stress in his voice and your insides turned gooey, his state turning you on a lot.

“… Mr. Stark needs me! He finally asked me to do something for once and I  was so ready! Now May won’t let me go! Jesus Y/N, could you of been a little more careful? You-”

Your mind shut off his anger towards you, clouding with scandalous thoughts you’ve never thought of before. This caused your thoughts and apparently brain to shut down as you interrupted his rant.

“You’re hot when you’re angry.”

Oh my god. Those words did not just come out of your mouth. What the fuck are you thinking?! Holy shit he thinks you’re some creep-

“W-What did you just say?” Peter questioned, chest slowly deflating from his previous state. You felt your cheeks sprout bright red as his figure inched closer to yours. Your brain finally wanted to work again, your eyes peeking up from staring intently at the floor after your previous comment. His nerves rose immediately, realizing your thoughts on him.

“W-What? I didn’t say-”

“Yes you did. What did you say?” now Peter’s soft brown eyes were gazing intently in yours, his own cheeks matched yours, both flushed and embarrassed. His heart raced at your sudden exposed feelings towards him, and he couldn’t of been happier.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, biting your lip in guilt as your eyebrows furrowed, “I really didn’t mean to say that. I meant to s-say t-that you were scary when you’re angry, not h-hot. Not that you aren’t hot when y-you’re angry, because you are, obviously I mean look at you! O-Oh my god, I’ll just shut up!” you hollered, an extremely nervous chuckle sprang from your throat, attempting to cover up your immense awkwardness.

Peter’s cheeks flushed even more as he heard it roll off your pretty lips once again, a smile played across his own. His eyes sparkled at your red cheeks staring at the floor. He stepped forward slightly, his head daringly leaned towards your ear, his own nervousness growing per second.

Your heart beat sped at his closeness as his lips brushed your tinted-pink ear, his hot breath whispering against your heated skin, “Maybe I should make you angry sometime.”

And you’re pretty sure you died right then and there.

Get Into My Car

Title: Get Into My Car

Summary:  Dean and the reader are enjoying a night out, until someone ruins the evening

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Reader

Word Count: 1889

Warnings:  Body shaming, derogatory terms directed toward a plus-sized reader, drinking, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, smut, nsfw

Author’s Notes:  Written for two challenges: @winchester-writes Drinking Writing Challenge. My drink was Glenfiddich Scotch and my prompt was “What is everyone staring at?!” and @butiaintgonnaloveem Baby’s Big 50 Writing Challenge. My song was Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car by Billy Ocean. Thank you to @feelmyroarrrr for the amazing idea. This wouldn’t have been possible without my bestie, @mamapeterson and her support, encouragement and words. Love you, T.

Originally posted by spn-spam

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Mr. Min - Chapter 06

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Angst and Smut

Word Count: 26,321 

A/N: I’m so sorry.  I don’t think I’m capable of doing short chapters anymore.  Feel free to read this on AO3 instead if your app messes up.  

And a huge round of applause to the always lovely, @avveh, for beta-ing this behemoth.  I’m so sorry to put you through that lol.

Prologue - Ch 01 - Ch 02 - Ch 03 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 

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It’s About Damn Time

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and Reader are working a vampire case. When Dean decides to go in alone, things go a little differently than planned.

Word Count: 5204

Warnings: Swearing. Because I’m a fucking lady. Vampire gore and killing. Being tied up. Smut. Again, lady. Fingering. P in V sex. 

A/N: This is for @luci-in-trenchcoats 2k Follower Challange. My prompt was “Wanna try that again like you mean it?”, which is bolded in the fic. Beta’d by the ever lovely @wheresthekillswitch. Thanks for helping me make what I had even better! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated.

Tags at the bottom. If you want added/removed, let me know!


“Dammit, Dean, answer your phone.” You’re starting to get worried now.

This is the fourth time you’ve called him, and when his voice comes over the line telling you to leave a message, it’s the fourth time you’ve had to swallow down the fear so it doesn’t come through in your voice. “You were supposed to just watch him, Winchester. If you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again, so help me God, you’re going to pay.”

You end the call, tapping your phone against your palm as you try to think. You suck a breath in through your nose, hold it for 5 seconds, then release it. You need to clear your head, figure out your next step. He’s got the Impala, of course, so if you plan on finding the him you’re going to have to borrow a car for a bit. You grab your leather jacket off the chair back, swinging it over your shoulders, shoving your hands through the sleeves as you grab your room key and head for the door. You check your phone one more time before sliding it into your pocket, shutting the door behind you as you scan the parking lot of the motel, eyes squinted to the bright mid-day sun.

There aren’t many cars parked in the poorly paved lot, and the ones that are there aren’t ones you want to trouble yourself with. You jog over to the diner across the street, eyes hopping from one car to the next until you spot a nondescript compact sitting in the back row. Yahtzee.

It’s old enough you shouldn’t have to worry about a security system but still looks like it should get you where you’re going without worrying that it’s going to break down. You walk to the car with purpose, looking for all the world like you own it. You slow as you near, hand automatically reaching out to try the handle. It always amazes you how many people just leave their vehicles unlocked in these small towns. You curl your fingers under the handle and give a tug, and sure enough, the door opens right up. With a smirk, you slide in to hotwire it and get your ass moving.

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Sweater Weather

Jughead x Reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Request: Can you do an imagine where Jughead breaks up with the reader and she doesn’t go  to school for a couple of days and when she returns she’s a mess wearing joggers and something of Jugheads.

Warnings: none/fluff/possible swearing

Summary: Based on the Neighbourhood Sweater Weather, Jughead breaks the readers heart, she’s a mess and when he sees what he’s done he realises it was a mistake.

Originally posted by juptern

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My Girlfriend's An Idiot

Request: I was wondering if you could do a Jasper imagine, from twilight, where he and the reader are fighting because she’s human and he doesn’t want her to get hurt, but she does the thing regardless and someone accidentally hurts her and Jasper’s alter ego comes out and almost attacks the person so reader has to calm him down and it’s just really cute and fluffy… Sorry this is long.

Warnings: swearing, fluff

Originally posted by sweetlambs

“You know, for someone who’s seen me naked, I’m a little uncomfortable at how much you try to act like you’re my father.” You snapped, walking through your house, gathering the stuff you’d need for your day trip.  

“Y/N, you know I’d never try to control you. I’m just … worried about having you over there. Where I can’t reach you.” Jasper followed behind you. 

You sighed. Jessica had invited you to La Push for the day, and Jasper had basically asserted that you were not going to go. He was bothered by the fact that he couldn’t go with you and protect you. And probably slightly bothered by the fact that you’d be hanging out with boys from school. Mostly, though, he worried about the Quileute pack making an appearance.

“Bella’s going too, you and Edward can suffer together.” You said, throwing sun screen and a towel into your tote bag. You felt yourself calming down, and turned around. “Can you please not do that?”  

Jasper’s lips twitched. “It’s a habit.” 

“Well quit it. I’m angry at you. Take it like a man.” You said, a hint of humor in your voice as you turned around, making your way to the bathroom and shutting the door behind you so that you could change into a bathing suit. He was still standing there when you came out. 

“They’re animals.” Jasper said. “And even worse, they’re teenage boys.” 

You heard the dryness in his voice but you could see the worry in his expression. He truly didn’t want you to go. 

“Mostly, though, they’re just teenage boys. And I can handle those.” You said, grabbing his hands. “Jess and Angela and Bella are gonna be there too, okay? And Mike and Eric.” 

Jasper rolled his eyes. “Mike and Eric couldn’t protect you from a pack of guinea pigs.”  You snorted, but softened when he wrapped his arms around you from behind. “They’ll be able to smell me on you. If you got hurt, I don’t know what I would do.” 

You turned to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. “I’ll be careful.” You said, putting one hand on his cheek, fingers brushing over his sharp jawline. “I’ll text you. I’ll stay with people I know. But I’m going.” 

He sighed, his hands rubbing absently over your hips. “I suppose I can’t stop you.” He smirked. “I mean, I could.” 

“But you won’t.” You said smugly, turning to pack the rest of your things. 

“Because my girlfriend carries a surprising amount of wrath in her fragile, mortal body?” He asked, hands still on your hips. 

“Yes.” You say, shouldering you bag. “And because you love her and would never dream of restricting her freedom for your own selfish reasons.”  

“I’m so glad we’re on the same page.” He said sarcastically, leaning in to kiss your lips, and then your jaw, and down your throat, before he stiffened and Jessica’s car honked from the street. 

“Guess that’s my ride.” You said. 

He nodded, no longer trying to conceal the worry in his eyes. “I’ll text you.” You said, and he nodded again, stiffly. “And I love you.” You said softly, with a smile. 

He was unable to stop the smile that answered yours, “Yeah, yeah. Sure you do.” He said softly, which was his way of saying it back. 

You kissed him again when he walked you to the door before you jumped into the backseat of Jessica’s convertible, where Bella was already seated with Angela in the front. Jessica cranked up the music on the radio before the four of you sped off to meet up with Mike and Eric and head to La Push. 

You spent the first couple of hours tossing around in the waves. You wrestled Mike to the ground for slapping you with a piece of sea weed until he finally gave up fighting you and apologized. You crawled onto the beach exhausted with the girls and sat in the sand, under the cool grey sky. Though you could tell Jasper was desperately trying not to check in too much, you made sure he knew you were okay every hour or two. 

The boys suggested, once it became too cold to swim, that they all take a hike up to the cliffs. Everyone was fairly rested up after swimming and agreed, so you all shrugged your clothes back on and set off up the narrow mountain trail that led to the cliffs above La Push beach. 

“And people jump off of these for fun?” Jessica asked skeptically, trying to stare over the cliffs but not daring to come within five feet of the edge. 

“That make you nervous?” Mike made like he was going to push her and earned a shriek and a smart punch in the arm in return.  

“Any of you ever jumped before?” All of them turned to see a group of three boys emerging onto the cliff, clad in normal clothes but clearly very muscular, and all with dark hair cropped short and dark eyes. You’d never seen the wolves in person but you knew that these had to be some of them, ripped with muscle though the oldest one couldn’t have been more than twenty.  

“No way, man.” Eric said. “I’m Eric. This is Mike, that’s Jessica, Y/N, Bella, and Angela.” 

“Sam.” 

“Jared.” 

“Paul.” Each of the boys introduced themselves. You noticed them glancing at you, and you realized Jasper must have been right. They could smell him on you. They all shared a glance and you tried your best not to notice, staring at your phone. 

They’re here. You texted Jasper. 

His reply was almost immediate: I will come get you. 

Do not cross that treaty line. You sent back. Under any circumstances.

You ground your teeth, looking up briefly. 

“Y/N, we’re headed back down to start a campfire. You coming?” Angela asked, frowning briefly your troubled expression and glancing at your phone. 

“I’ll be down in a minute.”  You said, and they left you alone. You looked back down at your phone.  

Who’s being selfish now? Jasper asked.

For keeping you from starting a war? You challenged. 

For risking your life because you’re too stubborn to admit you might be in danger.  He shot back.  

You shook your head, eyes completely focused on your phone when suddenly the ground fell out from under you and you screamed. 

The edge of the cliff. You’d wandered too close to the edge of the cliff. You were falling, eyes closed, and then, with a painful jerk of your arm, you weren’t anymore. Someone had caught you. The one named Sam had grabbed your wrist. 

“Grab the ledge.” He said, voice straining with the effort of holding your dead weight. You did and slowly, he hauled you back onto the rocky outcropping. You collapsed on your back on the hard ground, breathing heavily, your arm draped over your eyes. 

“Nice … catch.” You said between breaths, still reeling, adrenaline coursing like acid through your veins. 

“No problem.” Sam said, sitting beside you. His chest still heaved but he was catching his breath a lot easier than you were. “For future reference though, maybe don’t text on the edge of a cliff.” 

You let out a laugh, loud with relief as it dawned on you that you very well could have been killed just now and somehow remained relatively unscathed. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.” You said, bringing your phone up to look at it before you realized it was not in your hand. 

“Oh no.” You said, rolling onto your stomach and leaning up to look over the cliff before slapping your hand over your face. “Shit, shit, shit!”  

You jumped to your feet and found yourself dizzy. Sam steadied you. 

“Take it easy, what’s wrong?” He asked. 

“My phone!” You pointed to the cliff. “I was talking to-” You cut yourself off, realizing who you were talking to now, and just shook your head. “Um … I need to get ahold of someone. Do you have a cell phone?”  

He shook his head, “Sorry. I’m sure one of your friends does, though. We can walk down and …” His voice trailed off as you thought. Jasper was panicking. You just knew it. If you told him the wolves were here and then didn’t text him back … the longer you waited increased the likelihood that he was on his way here. It left you with one option. 

You turned to face Sam. “I need you to drive me to the treaty line.”  

Sam didn’t seem all that surprised that you knew what that was, but crossed his arms and looked you over. “Why?” 

“You know who my boyfriend is, I know you can smell it on me.” You said. He tilted his head up and watched you. “I was texting him about you being here. If he knows I was with you and then I don’t text back, he’ll try to come get me.”  

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “And start a war?” 

“If he thinks I’m in danger.” You said. “You’re the leader, right? Sam Uley?” He watched you, but didn’t say anything. “This doesn’t have to end in a fight. Not if you can get me there in time.” 

Sam seemed to look over you, trying to decide if you were telling the truth, before he shook his head. “Get on.” 

He took off his shirt and doubled over and before you knew it a black wolf the size of a grizzly bear was standing in front of you. Get on, he’d said.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You mumbled, before struggling onto his back. He let out a small growl which you guessed was wolf for ‘hold on’ and then took off at a run.

You’d been running with Jasper before, and were quite surprised to find that the wolf was just as fast, if not faster. Trees flew by you in a blur of darkness now that the sun had set and before you knew it, you’d reached the treaty line. You rolled off his back and doubled over, hands on knees, stomach churning. Though he was just as fast, Sam was not nearly as graceful. He looked at you warily before something in the woods caught his attention and he crouched into a more defensive position.

“Jasper?” You called out, knowing that’s the only one it could be, but Sam’s head was darting around, his lips curling back over huge canine teeth. There was more than one. “Emmett? Alice? Ed?” You guessed. “I’m fine, no one’s trying to hurt me.”

You glanced at the ground for something, perhaps, that marked where the actual treaty line was, but there was nothing, so you just glanced back at Sam and moved about ten feet forward, hoping that would put you in Cullen territory.

Emmet and Edward appeared just ten feet away, eyes trained on the wolf. Jasper was already in front of you.

“You smell like one of them, are you hurt?” He asked, voice stricken with tension.

“No, I lost my phone and-” You tried but he interrupted you.

“What’s this?” Jasper held up your bruised wrist and ignited a similar pain in your shoulder from where Sam had hauled you back over the cliff. You sucked air through your teeth and jerked your hand away from him instinctively.

What happened next happened very quickly. Edward, reading Jasper’s thoughts, said something along the lines of ‘grab him’ and before you knew it Emmet and Jasper were struggling behind you, Jasper trying to get to Sam, Emmett pouring all of his strength into keeping Jasper behind the treaty line. Sam was crouched and snarling, not attacking first but ready should Jasper get to him. Edward realized that Emmett may not be enough to hold him and grabbed Jasper’s other shoulder as Jasper kicked and snarled, as if all he wanted was to cross the treaty line. Before you really knew what you were doing, you were standing in front of Jasper.

“Y/N he’s not in control right now, you need to move.” Edward said seriously. He was not as strong as Emmett and his grip on Jasper’s arm kept slipping. You didn’t listen.

“Jasper look at me. Not him, me.” You said evenly. He didn’t listen until your hand touched his face. When he looked at you, you could tell it was not entirely Jasper staring back at you. Not your Jasper, anyway. “He didn’t hurt me, okay? You have to believe me, he didn’t. I lost my phone. He brought me here because I knew you’d be looking for me.” You said, your nails scratching in the hairs at the base of his neck.

He was still struggling but it seemed as if he was struggling away from you now, afraid he’d hurt you when he was not in control.

“Look at me.” You said again, forcing him to focus only on you.

“It’s working.” Edward said, looking at you. “Keep going.”

You looked back to Jasper and smiled. “Baby I’m fine. No one hurt me.” You said, your hands on either side of his face. “Listen, I’ll explain everything. But I need you to calm down.”

Jasper glanced back at Sam, and you did too.

“Thank you, Sam. For everything. You can go.” You said. Sam watched you for a second before he seemed to decide to trust you, and turned, loping off into the woods.

“He didn’t hurt you?” Jasper asked, his voice still laced with fury, but it was clear he was back in control.

“You can let him go.” You said to Emmett and Jasper, taking a breath.

“He saved her life.” Edward said, having apparently read Sam’s thoughts, “Apparently you were the one who almost killed her.” His voice was thick with amusement.

Jasper’s eyes widened and he straightened up. “What?” He asked.

You laughed in spite of yourself. “I may have been arguing with you and walked off a cliff.”

Jasper just watched you. “What.”

You broke into a fit of giggles and put your uninjured arm around him. “Let’s just go home. I have to go buy a new cellphone tomorrow.”

“My girlfriend’s an idiot.” Jasper put his arm around you, clearly pissed but amused as well.

“You love her.” You said smugly. His arm tightened around your waist.

A Lesson in Love (The Discovery)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,298

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED.

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - Thank you for putting up with me for almost a month and listening to me constantly complain about not being able to get this part written. I adore you. Always.

Originally posted by softtroublemaker

“Bucky wants to talk to you.”

You know that the earth never stops moving; it’s constantly in motion. Constantly making its trip around the sun. But the moment Steve says Bucky’s name, you swear that everything comes to a standstill. It’s the only way to explain how everything around you becomes muted. How you’re seeing Steve as if he were standing on the opposing side of a tunnel and how the pressure of Sam’s arm on your shoulder vanishes.

Over the past twenty-two days, you’ve convinced yourself that the story of you and Bucky was not meant to be. In your mind, he left and closed the door on the potential of there ever being an ending where you and him were together.

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Elsewhere University- Feathers

Like a whole bunch of other people, I saw @charminglyantiquated ’s Elsewhere University Comic and got SUPER INSPIRED. And since she’s so generously encouraging other people to play in her sandbox, I present ‘Feathers’.  EDIT : PART 2 HERE

You go to Elsewhere University. You’ve been going to Elsewhere University for (years and years and years and years) for three years now. You know how things are. You’re not an RA, but… Mm, you could have been.

Might still be. Aren’t yet.

This is your junior year (you think). You know how things are. You carry salt in one pocket, iron in another, trinkets to bargain away in your book bag, offerings in your purse, pearls around your neck.

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Foul Play (M)

Originally posted by minspink

Summary: Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.
Word Count: 24.314
Genre: college au, basketball player Jimin, sports university
A/N: A while ago @workofteaguk was doubting my lane while simultaneously having a crisis over Jimin. So naturally, retaliation was in order. This is all @minsvga‘s fault for encouraging me to run with this idea.

Elitism brings out the worst in people. Feelings of superiority run unchecked where talent and hard work meet to flourish and thrive, where young athletes spend their days training their bodies to the limits, pushing themselves harder to reach the ultimate dream: to receive validation and know that the years they’ve spent sacrificing sleep and jobs and romance for medals, winning seasons, and future professions has been worth it.

And as any good athlete knows, elitism leads to rivalry. Rivalries between teammates, between neighboring schools, or, most notably, a rivalry between Seoul Sports University’s top gymnast and one of the best point guards to grace the basketball court. And when rivalry and hatred reach such a level, it attracts attention from outsiders, from those who find amusement from such bitter hatred between two young people. Two young people who share common goals and similar training regimes, who for all intents and purposes should be close, but cannot stand the sight of one another.

This is a feeling that you know intimately.

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ultimate-drama-queen  asked:

Hi. I love your blog and all the little headcannons (canon?) you do. I also noticed you're amazing for writing little stories for people who are having a tough time. Would it be too much to ask if I could have one? I'm suffering from a bout of depression/insomnia and I'm running on about 4 hours sleep in about 3 days. What do you think of Derek or Stiles getting insomnia from all the stuff they've seen and the other just cuddling them through it? Trying to stay awake so they're not alone?

Hey, sweetheart. The depression/insomnia combo is horrible. I don’t know if it will work for you but earlier this year I stumbled upon ASMR videos. I know some people find them weird but they really helped me when it came to getting to sleep. In the mean time, I hope this little fic does something to help. 

Stiles thought being able to sleep after the Nogitsune had been the universe’s way of balancing out the good and bad in his life: get possessed by a psychotic Japanese fox but sleep like a baby every night after. As it turned out, being able to sleep after a spirit uses your body to murder a bunch of people came down to the fact Stiles hadn’t had a break since finding Laura Hale’s body that night in the woods.   

He believed joining the academy would be a fresh start, and in many ways it was. He just didn’t count on the fact that now he didn’t have pure evil trying to kill him at every waking moment that his brain would finally find time to process it. Stiles had always been a fan of ignoring his problems until they eventually, just, go away; watching his friends die, looking down at his own body and knowing it wasn’t really his but the cardboard cutout left behind by the Nogitsune, the memory of watching Derek almost -

He assumed - stupidly - that he had been successful in that particular endeavour. As long as he had his pillow, he was fine. You’re going to be fine. That was what the faceless people of the internet said. Stiles didn’t think “fine” was ever going to be an option for him but he guessed hope was a nice sentiment. 

“Insomnia,” Scott said, repeating the word back to him. Stiles could practically hear the concern, loud and clear, ringing through the phone. It instantly made him feel worse. Heaving a sigh, he scrubbed a tired hand down his face. Maybe he shouldn’t have called.  

“Yes, insomnia.”

Scott was quiet for several seconds.  “Do you have your pillow?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Stiles answered. He was currently clutching it to his chest, sprawled out on his bedroom floor. It was 3am, the floor was hard, and if he didn’t get some sleep soon he was going to start crying; the kind of crying he hadn’t done since he was a kid and his mom took ill. 

“What about drugs?” Scott suggested. “I could ask my mom-”

“No drugs, Scott.”

“But-”

I said no drugs, Scott.” 

The line went quiet again and Stiles felt his eyes begin to sting. This was a mistake.

“Sorry, man, I have to go.” 

He hung up before Scott could respond, deciding he could feel guilty about it later.

~

At the academy, he was on auto-pilot. Luckily, Stiles had come up with some of his best plans during the last four years on little-to-no sleep, so it wasn’t overly obvious to his fellow agents-in-training that he needed several cups on coffee just to get through the day.

It was obvious to someone though. Someone who clearly thought it was their sworn duty to haul Stiles over their shoulder in the middle of his third run to the coffee shop that day and deposit him in the back of their car. 

Stiles wanted to protest - he should protest, call for help, maybe? - but he had had his eyes closed when the stranger grabbed him, had been drooling on a statue, leaning against it for moral support, as he had waited for his order.

Plus, the stranger’s arms felt nice. 

In the back of his mind, Stiles couldn’t decide if thinking a stranger’s arms felt nice during a potential kidnapping - fuck, please don’t let it be a supernatural kidnapping - was because of his sleep deprived state or if that was just the way he was wired now. 

It was only when a door opened and a familiar pair of eyebrows slid into the driver’s seat did Stiles begin to laugh. Hysterically. 

“Of course,” he said, shaking his head and pressing his lips against the cool leather interior. Familiar hands strapped him into the his seat. “Of course it’s you, big guy.”

Derek just gave a slight huff and muttered something Stiles couldn’t hear, but it sounded an awful lot like, yeah, I missed you, too. 

Stiles laughed again. It was crazy, what your mind came up with when it wasn’t functioning properly. 

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A love of ice and thunder

Pairing: Loki x Thor x Reader.

Warnings: Smut and LOTS of it; a bit of drama too. There’s a lot of everything going on here so you might pick your blanket because this is also long af.

Summary: When Jane leaves Thor, in your heart you know he should stay with you, but as time goes by, his brother realizes that there is more to it.

A/N: I need Jesus, and when you finish reading this, you’re gonna need him too. My characters know they need Jesus, so that should tell you something. Feedback? It won’t hurt!


You poured some shampoo on your hand and gently started to massage your scalp with it. “So,” you started feeling the soft foam form in your hair, “I got a call from your brother yesterday,” you let the warm water run down your soapy self as you awaited for your boyfriend’s answer.

“Really? Thor knows how to make a phone call?” Loki snickered from the toilet seat. “Well, that is quite the surprise,” he shook his head.

“The thing is that he broke up with Jane just a few days ago and even though it wasn’t a lot, she’s given him some time to move out,” you casually said trying to elicit some kind of reaction from his uninterested being. “He’s really bummed, y’know?”

“I bet,” Loki pondered, “I’d be utterly destroyed if you dumped my ass,” he conceded, “but why are we talking about him anyway?”

“Well, I’ve been doing some thinking about it and… I wanted to ask you if he could stay here for a while,” you stuck your head from the end of the curtain and looked at him innocently. “I kinda owe him that…” you bit your bottom lip.

“How so?” He ran his fingers through his ebony hair.

“When SHIELD first sent me to the States I ended my renting contract with my landlord and I moved there, and when the agency died after the whole Winter Soldier thing I realized I had no home to go back to; Jane was still there and when your brother came to earth he stayed with her, so he asked Jane if I could live with them until I got my own place…” you sheepishly said as you rinsed the shampoo from your head. “I stayed there with them for like 4 months, so maybe he could stay here for that same time too, if you don’t mind,” you broke it down. “Can you pass me the towel, please?” You reached out your arm and he handed the soft cloth.

“What about our life?” He asked in a concerned voice. “I mean let’s face it, love; we are not the quietest ones and Thor isn’t either; he snores like a chainsaw,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but we’ll have to be a bit more quiet and just… hold on?” You drew back the curtain and got out with Loki’s help. “Let me return him the favor, it’ll be for just a little, okay?” You looked at him with puppy eyes, it always worked with him. “Can we?”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he shook his head and unmade the towel, making it fall onto the humid tiles. “I might consider it,” he effortlessly lifted you in his arms, making you wrap your legs around his waist, “but only if you bribe me,” he mischievously smiled and headed for the room.

And just a few days after that, Thor was setting up this few belongings in the spare room of your apartment. He was really embarrassed for having to ask you that. He knew he was invading your privacy and your couple life with Loki, but he really didn’t have much choice or friends in the United Kingdom.

“It’s okay, big guy,” you placed a hand on his shoulder when he sat on the bed in defeat. “I know it hurts and all, but… you’ll be fine eventually, give it some time and you’ll see how things turn alright,” you shrugged lightly, “besides you’re living with us now, we’re gonna have fun!” You smiled widely and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He rested his head on your chest and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Now come, and we’ll ask for something to eat for dinner,” you said.

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Zack totally teased the two of them (individually) to get together when he found out the feelings were mutual meanwhile Jason is just tired of all the gushing he gets from Kim about the yellow ranger

Jason: “Kimberly Ann Hart, I swear to god if you don’t ask her out, I’ll-”
Kimberly: “What? Ask her out yourself? She’s not into you. Not even into guys in general. What are you going to threaten me with now, Scott? And how dare you full name me.”

Trini reverted back to using earphones so they could listen to music together, but someone always moved their head too much where the other’s bud always came out so she decided to get a splitter so they could still listen together, but have their individual earphones.

Zack and Jason (reluctantly) bet on who’s going to get their ass wiped during sparring between the girls during training each day because (one of them gets a little too sidetracked)

Their study dates are 20% flashcards and 80% ”if i fail this test tomorrow, you can tell the teacher why, Tri!” “that i couldn’t keep my hands to myself after i finally found your ticklish spot which took so long to find but it was so worth it though it may have resulted in a hole in your wall because you tried blindly kicking at me?”

Trini secretly loves when Kim plays with her hair, especially when she’s had a stressful day
she’ll collapse into her lap and let her do her thing, letting her caress her hair and gently scratch at her scalp

Kim watches her girlfriend go from grumpy cat to lazy sleepy content cat (she totally awes at the accidental purr that comes out)
Kim is the only one that’s allowed to unbraid/braid Trini’s hair

Here’s Kim’s words of advice and reassuring comments to Trini introducing herself as her girlfriend for the first time “Breathe. You’re going to do fine. You’ll be great. Just think about something calming, soothing, relaxing.
“Like what?”
“Think about me. Naked.”

Kim willing to fight anyone who insults or harms Trini in anyway and becoming furiously protective

Trini trying to bite back her words of anger and hatred when Amanda and her minions make a harsh snide comment to Kimberly knowing she won’t be able to stop any sort of aggression once it starts

Comforting each other about their
past and current home life

Instead of passing generic notes, they’re either playing tic tac toe, telling one another jokes or Kim drawing mini comics and Trini attempting to continue the story with her stick figures

Kim getting jealous when this new girl starts flirting with Trini and because this oblivious gay can’t tell the difference between a friendly compliment and I’m-trying-to-ask-you-out-on-a-date compliment, she unknowingly flirts back

Trini getting jealous when Jason asks if he can talk to Kimberly in private, when Kimberly cancels their plans because she promised to hang out with him and when Jason let’s it slip that Kim visits him in his room at night to talk about things that are troubling instead of talking to her

Kim volunteering to babysit Trini’s brothers with her
Discussing/”Making Up” stories about the Power Rangers with them
Trading embarrassing stories about Trini
Shyly but trying to act intimidating as they interrogate Kim to see if she’s good enough for their sister
Innocently asking if Kim and Trini are dating
Teasingly throwing the girlfriend word around the girls
Board Games
Movie Nights
Them and Kim getting competitive with one another during video games
Talking about their favorite superheroes as they show her their action figures
Questioning her if she believes in aliens

Kim sitting next to Trini or in front of her during Biology so they can reach under the desk and hold hands, y’know whisper in one another’s ears like losers, doodle in each other’s margin on their notebooks

Sneaking into each other’s rooms through the window

Both calming the other down after a nightmare
Kim stealing all of Trini’s flannels, jackets, hoodies. (Beanies are harder to get though she managed to steal her yellow one and replaced it before she was caught.)

Trini occasionally borrowing one of Kim’s shirts/tops

neck kisses
shoulder kisses
forehead kisses
nose kisses
cheek kisses
stomach kisses

Trini staring at Kim’s lips when she talks
Kim glancing at Trini’ lips when they’re sitting or standing too close

lip bites

Playfully bickering on who gets to be the big spoon always even though they switch it up all the time

Being able to keep up with each other’s snark, wit, sass, and sarcasm
Sly smiles
Knowing smug smirks
Suggestive glances
Amused arched eyebrows
Challenging one another

Trini resting her head on Kim’s shoulder

Kim resting her head atop of Trini’s

Trying out different cafés, bakeries, patisseries, coffee shops and learning and eventually knowing each other’s orders at all of them

jokes, innuendos, pick up lines, teasing, banter
eye rolls all the time
exaggerated eyelash batting
Kim flirtatiously winking
pleading pouting lips
Fake offended gasp
hugs from behind

Kim leaning her chin on top of Trini’s head or her shoulder

both being easily whipped and persuaded/convinced by the other

whispering sweet nothings before saying something dumb and stupid and playfully insultful to get rid of the cheesy, sappy, sentiment

Trini judging Kim’s music tastes and both of them trying to find a common genre

Finding places with the best views of the town/taking each other on random adventures

Late night car rides with the windows down

They frequent the cliff edge that overlooks the lake (swimming hole?) for a good view of the lights

If Trini can convince Kim to go hike up the mountain together in the morning, they watch the sunrise, but usually they watch the sunset after school/training

Drive In Movie Theater which either results in Kim being totally invested and Trini taking a nap or having a popcorn catching contest

Sharing Milkshakes

They always share the last donut and have a showdown on who gets the last piece

Taking selfies in those In N Out hats when they go out for burgers

Trini finds Kim singing into a hairbrush and dancing around her room one day as she blasts Top 40 Pop Songs
It takes roughly about 15 seconds to get her to begrudgingly join in
But she’s just in awe at the girl’s voice and so is Kim when Trini starts singing
They’re both panicking

Racing one another just for fun (of course where no one will see)

Snowball fights

Behind the bleachers, rooftop, girl’s bathroom on the second floor or in a quiet vacant hidden corner in the library is where you’ll find them alone ditching class and being unusually couple-ish (The janitor’s closet was just downright disgusting and smelled of cheap chlorine bleach and sanitizer even with their superhuman powers, chemicals still had some effect on their body)

Squeezing each other’s hand for comfort or reassurance along with rubbing their thumb over one another’s knuckles

Trusting one another more than anyone

taking turns resting their head on the other’s chest

Trini resting her head in Kimberly’s lap as she’s sprawled out on the couch

Zack giving Kimberly the shovel talk and Jason giving Trini the shovel talk even though they care for both girls
It’s a ridiculously lovable somewhat annoying act

Trini calling Kim “Princess”

kissing one another’s palms and wrists

both being in utter awe that someone as amazing and beautiful wants to date them

rubbing soothing circles on one another’s hands when the other gets nervous/anxious

Kim tracing abstract patterns on Trini’s back when she’s sleeping

long walks or hiking up those mountain trails
talking to each other all night and even when one falls asleep the other doesn’t hang up the phone, lovesick idiots

When Kim asks Trini what she did to get into detention this time, if she isn’t sending a death glare towards Zack and groaning like she’s suffering through hell and back, she just gives a sheepish smile and a nonchalant shrug because she’s not going to admit that she volunteers to go to this and the teacher could care less

Taking photographs

Kim’s mirror is covered in polaroids and Trini has a secret album

Trini finding out that Kim can do an absolutely believable flawless British accent (you figure out the details)

Kim mouthing the lines to movies and tv shows and Trini’s not even paying attention to the screen anymore like always

God forbid, they have hidden poetry/song books about one another that neither of have told them about.

Tickle Fights

Kim complimenting Trini all the time just to see her blush

The only time they will ever carry each other without being a stumbling blushing mess or arguing over the position in carrying is when one of them is injured or asleep

Star Gazing on top of Kim’s roof

They totally had the same idea of kissing in the rain even though they both know it’s a fricking cliche because a) they can’t get sick and b) they’re saps and hopeless romantics even if they won’t admit it

Having a snowman contest

Kim pushing Trini into the pool and Trini pulling her in with her

Kim booping Trini on the nose and Trini is just bewildered

They take turns bringing each other drinks and donuts for breakfast during the school week (Jason scolds them about needing to eat a healthier breakfast)

They meet up before first period then always text each other before their next classes/during passing periods/hallway traffic jam to complain or give them a heads up about things instead of walking one another to class

Stealing from another’s food during lunch
though it turns more into a game of sorts

Whoever gets out earlier from class waits by the other’s locker after school

Let’s just say the Rangers can’t get drunk so they inevitably try to drink themselves to death, but a body shot and a lap dance ensues

“Do you trust me?”
“Not with my water bottle and definitely not over a cliff.”

“If she goes, I go.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“That’s just your way of telling me, you love me. I’ve cracked that code a long time ago, Hart.”

“Will you please just shut up for a second and stop doubting yourself and listen to me! You’re beautiful.”

“Why did we agree to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?”
“Did they just tell us to go fuck in a closet?”
“The irony hasn’t escaped me.”

“I hate this town. I hate these faces. I’m just so tired of everything, except you. Never you.”

“You’re not short,you’re just tiny.”

“I don’t remember falling in love with you. I just remember you grabbing onto my hand and squeezing way too hard when we were about to be pummeled to our deaths by a train and in that terrifying second I couldn’t process anything except a single thought which was, “You’re dying just admit you’re gay and pretty girls make you weak.”

“You’ve been shutting everyone out that genuinely cares about you”
“Not everyone, not you.”

“Do you think the world could suddenly end on a night as quiet as this?”

“Let me ask you something. Do you think there’s such a thing as a perfect day?”
“What?”
“A perfect day. Start to finish. When nothing terrible or sad or ordinary happens. Do you think it’s possible?”

“We spend our whole lives stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how we’ll escape one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps us going, but we’ll never do it. We just use the future to escape the present. Truth is, we’ll never actually be rid of Angel Grove, we’re still Power Rangers and just like any other superhero we’ll end up staying exactly where we are. Unfortunately our home isn’t a city.” “Well, at least it has you.”

“You were not meant to simply be pretty. You were meant to fight back, so get up and face it.”

“What’s inside is what matters. You are so much smarter than they give you credit for.”

“I am aware that I am less than some people prefer me to be, but most people are unaware that I am so much more than what they see.”

“I feel lost inside myself.”

“I’m not perfect, but I’m original.”

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did and let me love you anyway.”

“The happiest people, don’t have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything.”

“Perhaps, I want nothing more than to fall asleep next to you.”

“My life will end someday and so will yours, hopefully we die roughly around the same age, not that I want you to die ever but I don’t want you suffering of heartbreak like some depressing Hallmark movie so just kiss me anytime.”

“Thank you, for making me feel less alone.”

“I stopped explaining myself when I realized people only understand from their level of perception.”

“You are alive. You are not a sad story.”

“I love you, but don’t know what to do.”

“You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first.” Bullshit.
I have never loved myself.
But you
Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like.”

“Why did you do that?”
“Because I love you.”

“I would never let anybody or anything hurt you.”

“I don’t know for sure what I’m feeling. I don’t think you know exactly what you’re feeling either. This is all new or maybe we’ve felt this way for quite sometime, but refused to acknowledge them. What I do know is that, whatever mutual feelings we have for one another is not going to jeopardize our friendship.We’re not going to let that happen.”

“Just talk to me.”

“What is wrong with you?”
“I’m crazy, remember?”

Kim noticing that Trini has bad social anxiety especially when she’s seated or standing in a public closed in crowd so she always makes it a priority to get seats near the windows in the corner or a seat where Trini’s back is covered
Kim trying to learn Spanish on her own not just to impress Trini (that’s just an added bonus) but to make it easier for Trini’s brothers and dad to communicate with her. She manages to even impress Trini’s mom and manages to have forge somewhat of an acquaintanceship, but she’s still wary.

They’re in love, that’s all I’ve got to say.

Age is but a Number, Love is Infinite

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,775

Warnings: age difference(nothing underage the reader is 21), language, implied sexy times

Request: Hey it’s ok if you don’t wanna do this but I was wondering if you could write a fic where Dean is his current age and the one reader just turned 20 but like her and Dean have known each other for a long time and have been together for a while and other people always say stuff about their relationship but they’re still just really happy together, maybe w/ a bit of smut?

A/N: I changed a few things like I said I would but overall I think I got what you wanted!! Shout out to @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid for being an awesome beta!! I hope you all like it and feedback is always appreciated!!! :D

Originally posted by frozen-delight

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Castaway

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongin (Kai)

Rating: NC-17 (description of plane crash, explicit sex)

Word Count: 7,950

Summary: A plane crash leaves you stranded, somewhere deep in the Pacific Ocean. Your only company is Kim Jongin - though whether this is better than being alone, you still haven’t decided.

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