his stupid little face and his stupid little hair and his stupid little voice

Frosting and Crushes

Summary: Newt has been distant the past week, focusing only on Tina and their work. You try to strike up conversation with him at dinner, but, after many failed attempts, grow irritated and leave early. Queenie decides to take matters into her own hands.

Word Count: 2,224

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


You sit at the dinner table with no goal but to enjoy the meal as Queenie flutters around, stirring pots with both her hands and magic. She already denied your offer to help, so you decided to pass the time talking with her. Newt had disappeared somewhere, probably inside the case, and you had immediately decided against a walk when you glanced at the growing grey clouds outside.

Inside is warm and cozy. You’re wearing your favorite gold sweater. The heat from the cooking keeps out the bite of chilly air rattling the windows. Queenie is humming a jazzy tune you’ve never heard before, only stopping to giggle at Jacob’s red face when he bumps into her.

“I’m sorry.” He says as his face turns a shade of tomato red.

“It ain’t a problem, honey.” Queenie doesn’t break a stride. “What is it you’re making?”

You’re pretty sure she asks it for your sake, given the sounds your stomach has been making since he stuck the pastries he’d spent all afternoon making into the oven, and the smell had spread throughout the small room.

“Special strawberry turnovers.”

“What makes them so special?” You ask, raising your voice over the bubbling, clanking, and simmering sounds filling the area.

“They’re my momma’s recipe. Filled with love and one other special ingredient.”

Queenie swings by Jacob with the pot of stew in hand. “I don’t think nutmeg is very secret, honey.” Five bowls float down into their places around the table as Queenie sets the stew in the center.

“I never said –“

“You don’t have to.” She smiles at him and lifts the pot’s lid.

The rich smell wafts over the table to you. You breathe it in, closing your eyes to revel in the memories it brings back. Your mother always made beef stew with potatoes and chopped carrots for special occasions. Mentally thanking Queenie, you slide your chair back and step toward the pot, scooping the stew in until it nearly sloshes out the side. Queenie merely smiles at you and twirls around Jacob.

She resumes her humming. The turnovers mix with the scent of the stew and your mouth waters. The windows shake, generating a beat that Queenie forms her music around. Jacob’s laugh fills the warm room, and your entire world, for once, is at peace.

Your content joy only expands when Newt walks in, messy auburn hair plastered against his forehead from the rain sprinkling outside, giant, beautiful smile stretched across his face. You glance at your stew, fighting the huge smile trying to break upon your face. Queenie kicks you under the table and, when you meet her gaze, lifts an eyebrow. You give a quick nod before staring back down at your food, trying to resist beaming.

The fight becomes much easier when Tina walks in behind Newt, also covered in water, smile upon her face.

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anonymous asked:

What would the guys do if they hear their crush say "me? who would like someone like me?" because they can't believe anyone would like them

Aw nonnie this is a sad/cute one. I hope this is alright! 

Noctis:

 - Noctis would be able to tell you were feeling a little glum, and when you had a few precious moments alone, he’d ask you what was wrong.
- You would try and brush it off at first, it’s not like you want to burden him with something like that…
- But this would just make the prince feel a bit useless, he’d really want you to confide in him. 
- You’d take a big sigh, and finally tell him. You feel lonely. You feel like a bit of a spare part. Everyone was settling down, even Noctis had his marriage to Luna. But you were just left on your own, as always.
- “Hey, don’t be so stupid.” 
- Stupid? This would anger you, you just confided in him like he asked and he calls you stupid?
- Noct would see how irate you were getting, and instantly feel bad.
- “Wait, that’s not what I meant!” And it honestly wasn’t. When will this boy learn to deal with his feelings and say the right thing?
- “Sorry that I’m bothering you with my stupidity Noctis.”
- “Look, that isn’t what I meant by it!”
- He panics that he’s really screwed this up.
- “Sure! I’m just whittling away for nothing!”
- “Well, yeah because-”
- “I should just get used to it.”
- “What?”
- “I mean, who would ever like me?”
- “I would!”
- There would be silence as you digest what Noctis had just said. 
- “You…? But what about Luna?”
- Okay, now his heart is racing.
- “We are friends, good friends, but this arranged marriage… It isn’t for me. Look, I’ve been trying to tell you… I, well, like you.” 
- His eyes sink to the floor and he plays with his arm band nervously. Now it’s calmed down he is self-conscious and can’t believe he just blurted that out…
- You’re stunned. Noctis… liked you? 
- He finally looks at you, unnerved by your silence
- Damn, have I really over stepped the mark this time?
- “Noct… you like me?”
- You can see little splashes of red colour his cheeks as he answers.
- “Y-yeah I do… is that okay?”

 Prompto:

- Prompto would be heading towards the tent one night, after you had disappeared for a while. He was starting to get worried as to where you were!
- As he gets closer to the tent, he can hear your voice… He doesn’t want to intrude if you were on the phone. Though, it didn’t seem like you were…
- He listens for a bit. He knows he shouldn’t, but he just can’t help it. There was just something in the tone of your voice that made him stay, a little twinge of something like… sadness?
- “I’m not like Cindy, or Aranea, I’m just…not.”
- They are definitely talking to themselves. He realised.
- And then you said it. 
- “But really… me? Who could ever like someone like me?”
- It’s almost like you could hear Prompto’s heart crack.
- No. No no no no.
- He recognises the pain in your voice, he understands the self-doubt, he knows it all too well.
- Before he could stop himself or even think about what he was doing, he’d push open the tent flap and take you in his arms.
- There are tears pooling in his own eyes.
- “You should never, never have to feel that way. Not you. Not someone like you.”
- It’s hard to hear him as his voice is muffled, his face buried in your neck. His grip is tight, and he can’t even think about how forward this might be because he just has to make sure you know you’re loved.
- “I like you, I like you, I like you.” He can’t say it enough.
- His words warm your heart.
- You both sit like that for a while, just holding each other until the tears stop. 
- He pulls away, and gently whispers; “It’s you. It has been for a while now. I really like you.”
- You can hardly believe your ears. 
- Still holding you, he looks you in your eyes still wet with tears, now smiling a little sheepishly.
- “So… what do you say?”

Gladiolus:

- Prompto would be chatting away about Cindy, as usual, and you would roll your eyes.
- “Tch, she’s pretty lucky.” 
- Gladio would hear your mumbling, and fall behind the other three to walk with you instead. 
- “Hey, what’s that?” He’d ask, friendly as always.
- “Well, it’s lucky Cindy has someone to feel that way about her.”
- Gladio would raise his eyebrows in surprise and a little in doubt as well.
- “I’m not so sure she sees it that way.”
- “I guess, but at least she knows she’s wanted.”
- By now the other three guys are just a blip in the distance, walking back to the regalia.
- “What do you mean by that?”
- “Well, just that I’d love to be in her shoes. It’s not like anyone will ever feel that way about me.”
- Did they really just say that?
- Suddenly his strong arm juts out in front of you, preventing you from walking any further.
- You look at Gladio in shock, to see that his jaw looks clenched and he looks kind of… angry.
- “Gladio…?”
- “Is that what you truly think?”
- You nod, unable to do more and he finally looks at you.
- “Then, you don’t realise how crazy I am about you.”
- Your heart skips a beat at his words.
- “H-huh?”
- He retracts his arm now, standing up to face you.
- “Why else do you think I always let you fall asleep on me in the car? Because I love the way you feel in my arms. Or when I always ask you for help setting up camp, it’s because I really enjoy your company.”
- He would stand in front of you now, the familiar smile you know and love back.
- “Honestly, these past few weeks you’ve been driving me crazy, and then you say no one would feel like that about you?”
- He shook his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes.
- “Well, I’m telling you now, I do. You don’t have to like it, I’ll understand if you don’t and I’ll speak no more of it. I promise.”
- He tilts his head, fully smiling now at your astounded expression.
- “Well… are you alright with that?”

 Ignis:

- Ignis had noticed you’ve been seeming down lately, choosing to sit in the tent early or sitting in the back of the car in your own world.
- It really starts to concern him, he can’t fathom why you’re feeling this way.
- One night he brings you your food to the tent, seeing if you’re okay.
- You thank him a little despondently, so he sits down next to you and asks if you want to share what has been bothering you.
- Looking into those kind green eyes it’s hard not to start talking about what’s wrong. You knew Iggy was a great listener. 
- So you opened up a little to him.
- “I’ve been watching the others get closer to people lately, Prompto with Cindy, Noctis with Luna for example…”
- “What about it is bothering you?”
- “I don’t know. I guess it just sucks being on your own.”
- “Come now, you’ll meet someone who is just right for yourself.”
- He knows it’s true, even if it’s not with him. Though that thought hurts him more than he’d care to admit.
- You throw Iggy an incredulous look.
- “What? It’s true. You’ll find someone you really like.”
- Oh if only he knew.
- “That’s not the problem. The problem is them liking me. I mean, who the hell would fall for someone like me?”
- Suddenly Iggy’s eyes tighten, and he re-adjusts his glasses.
- He seems… annoyed?
- “Please, do not put yourself down like that. You’re a wonderful person.”
- Huuuuge eyeroll from you.
- “Uh huh, sure.”
- Here comes the generic ‘you’ll get there eventually’ chat.
- “I mean it.”
- “Really?”
- He’s persistent.
- “Yes, you’re funny, gorgeous, intelligent… anyone would be lucky to call you their partner.”
- Well… that you weren’t expecting.
- The fidgeting with his glasses is progressively getting worse, which is unlike Iggy.
- “Why are you saying all of this…?”
- “Because I…” He has to take a deep breath here!
- “I see you that way. And would definitely feel lucky to call you mine.”
- Your heart stops, you can’t believe what you just heard. And he’s looking up at you through those lovely long lashes, and you know he’s being serious.
- Oh my.
- “Iggy…?”
- “I’m sorry if this seems sudden, but please… I have to know how you feel about me.” His green eyes are gazing at yours.
- Oh my.

anonymous asked:

I will build you a fucking shrine if you write peter coming out as a bi to tony and tony being like, "hell yeah me too"!!!!!! (I'll probably cry happy tears too)

Okay. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.


He could do this. He could do this. It was all going to be fine. He could do this. 


Fuck. How the hell was anyone supposed to do this?


He checked his watch for the fifteenth time that minute. Tony was currently 12 seconds late. But he was always late, so this was fine. It didn’t mean anything. He was just caught up again. Which was normal. 


Unless he’s found out and now hates me and is going to take the suit away and yell at me and never speak to me ever ever again-


“God, Peter, pull yourself together,” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair and then clasping it into a fist in his lap. It was all going to be okay. It was. He just needed to keep breathing.


Fuck. Why was he even here? Why had he called Tony in the first place? Take an hour of your day please, Mr Stark, I need to tell you something that I’ve only just found out myself and is probably something you don’t care about at all anyway-

This was stupid. He should have just waited until it could come up in casual conversation, not….whatever this was. Pulling Tony out of his busy day in order to tell him this stupid thing was…well, it was stupid! 

God, his hands were shaking.


What if Tony reacted badly? What if he got angry? What if…

what if he never wanted anything to do with Peter again?


It happened. He knew it happened. He’d heard all the horror stories. Kids, kicked out of homes by parents who had loved them unconditionally before. Put on the streets because they loved the wrong people.

Not that Tony would ever do that. Peter was scared, but he wasn’t stupid. For starters, Peter didn’t even live with Tony anyway. 
Well. He hung out with Tony in his workshop after school more often than not, and occasionally slept there if Aunt May was doing the nightshift, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t deal without it. He’d been fine before Tony came along.

But that wouldn’t even happen. He was making this out to be bigger than it was. Tony was cool. Tony would be fine. And even if he didn’t like it, he knew that New York still needed Peter on side, so he probably wouldn’t take the suit back, or kick him out. 

Probably.


Suddenly, there was a four-beat knock on the door, and Peter practically flew off the couch in his living room from the surprise.

Okay. Okay. Showtime. 

It was going to be fine.

(Read more, mobile users)

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Starved: An Epilogue

Tag List:  @thebeautyofthomas @frustratedwaffle @killerfangirl3 @pippa-frost @extreme-doodles @fandomsofrandom @here-to-vent @i-prayed-to-you-cas @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @justanotherpurplebutterfly @emovirgil @aikogumi @mysticalcatamount @fallingineternity @notallpotatoesarefrenchfries @theoneandonlyfangirlofpower @holdnarrytight @prompty-writer @cutecatwhiskers @getupanddothething @beaucoupdesprits @vixenneko @lil-lycanthropy @alwaysmy-lilith @pattonsvirgil  @all-the-fand0mz @myspace-anxiety @acehufflepuff @eternal-sanders @princeyandanxiety @pippa-frost@evillive369@daenerysraine@kiexen@loverofpizzaandallthingssweet@lana–22​  @the-doggie-and-his-cuddlefish @fallingineternity @fangirlfiles1 @cup-of-blue  @reaper8439979 @lastfemaletimelord @zoeyheys @lizzysperil @trilight102@frustratedwaffle @the-diaries-of-a-nerd @vladimeme @prplzorua @anxiousdepressedkid @ alzac-saber @softanon @chaoticgood-anon @321angst @vixenneko@justanotherpurplebutterfly @chemicallyimbalancedromance@hetaisawesome @virgilient @soft-blue-badger @latin-logic @the-sanders-sides  @emovirgil @itmepaigeb @evil-queens-rule @youcancallmeverge@datonerougecookeh @hells-angel-hevens-demon @glaceon-in-a-sweater @here-to-vent @thehomicidalbean @abstractedthinking @watch-me-introvert @alicethemadhatterapprentice  @i-prayed-to-you-cas@cherryblossomrebellion @musicphanpie-b @cochroachkappa-blog@sanative-sanders @you-can-call-me-verge @doctorwhitttaker@getupanddothething @rebbeash @backatthebein @a-blog-just-for-sanders@princeyandanxiety @extremepenguin @a-person-who-exists @sandersfluff@the-laarmy @madd-catter @vixenneko @the-sanders-snides@muchfeelsmanyfandoms @hey-youre-out-of-shampoo @edgy-side-of-me @that-space-gay-writes @chaoticgood-anon @themainecoone @imteamdanosaur @ensnaredyouth27 @a-universe-of-fandoms @fandomsofrandom @beepbeep-jerrythejeep @dont–talk–to–me@campcampislife

Chapter Notes: This lil’ story is dedicated to my best friend, fiance, beta, and brainstorming buddy, @thuriweaver​ / @writing-thuri​ without whom none of my stories would exist. Thank you for always being willing to be my fic-doctor, sweetie!

CW: None. It’s fluff. 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5

*

Thomas had been feeling unaccountably nervous all morning, so it was not particularly surprising when he heard the soft whoosh that accompanied the appearance of a side. 

What was surprising was when he turned from his place on the couch and saw not one or two, but all of them, crowded into Virgil’s usual spot on the landing of his stairs. 

“Go on,” Patton was saying (he was pushed in against Virgil’s side, wedged between Virgil and the wall, but he was smiling, nudging Virgil forward. Roman, Thomas noted, was behind him, his hands on Virgil’s shoulders; Logan had sensibly moved up a bit on the stairs to give himself a little more room.) 

Virgil himself was hunched in, shoulders curved around himself, arms wrapped around his waist and hair falling over his eyes as he stared at his feet. He seemed rooted to the spot, in spite of Patton’s urges and Roman’s hands on his shoulders and Logan’s pointed gaze. 

“Uh–hey, guys,” Thomas said, bewildered. “What’s up?” 

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I'm Sorry (I Fell in Love Tonight)

( PROMPT: I was going through a rough night so instead of doing what we usually do, you made sure I was okay throughout the whole thing and was slow and reassuring and when morning comes I feel so conflicted. )

A/N: Y’all thirsty for friends-with-benefits Peter Parker so I have delivered. This was vaguely inspired by the incredible momosakaki-san’s drabble with fuck boi Peter (YES YES YES GIMME MORE). THANK YOU ALL FOR 1000 FOLLOWERS. WHAT ARE YOU GUYS EVEN DOING HERE. AS A THANK YOU, I’VE WRITTEN A SIN-FILLED DRABBLE WITH PETER AND THE READER BEING FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS. 

WARNINGS: Sin. Filthy sin.

Taglist (permanent): @mainspidey | @x-wing-starwriter |@tomsleftbrow | @tryn25| @tanglefire | @midnight-memorial | @tiny-friggin-human |@tacklemyackles| @fangeekkk | @beamagtuto | @captainaudreystark | @hellosuperewczi | @dasia-aye

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stilesbansheequeen  asked:

dunno if you still want these, but 3 + sterek would be cute if you do :) either way, awesome list!!

3. “Do you even own a shirt?!”
Shirts Are For Quitters
Also on ao3

Stiles liked college a lot so far, it was freeing in a way that high school had never been and he had scheduled all of his classes to start after 10 so he got to sleep in. His only issue with college was Derek Hale’s allergy to shirts.

Derek lived two rooms down from him, always had his door open, and never wore a shirt. Ever. Stiles was convinced that Derek went to class without a shirt on, though he had no proof of that because they didn’t have any classes together.

They were a part of a pretty tight group on their floor, they all hung out in the common room after class, went to meals together, and went out together on weekends. In their nearly 8 months of friendship Stiles had seen him wearing a proper shirt twice. Derek even wore tight, white tank tops to pretty much ever meal which hardly counted as a shirt at all.

Stiles was walking home from class one sunny Friday in April when he finally snapped. He had spent the entire year so far suppressing boners when Derek was around, but this was just excessive.  

He couldn’t take his eyes off of Derek’s sweaty chest, with his stupid muscles and his stupid chest hair. “Heads up Stilinski!” Derek yelled as the football that Derek and Isaac had been throwing around got passed Derek and almost hit Stiles.

“Do you even own a shirt?!” Stiles said, his voice higher than usual and his cheeks flushed.

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Notebook Journal

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Super long and rambly but pretty fluffy?

Words: 2201 Longest yet

Prompt: “I did not mean for stripping to come from this.” 

Tags: @captainswriting


  You’ve known Peter your entire school life. In preschool, you sat next to each other and that must’ve set a pattern for you both, even though you became friends in fifth grade. He was never the toughest guy, still isn’t in your opinion, he was more like a small, fluffy puppy. That didn’t have teeth. Or nails.

  Okay, so he’s a stuffed animal.

  So, one fateful day at recess, you saw your next desk over classmate getting picked on. Being the type of girl that never cared about getting dirty or danger, you walked up behind the bully and kicked the back of his knees. Needless to say, after you served detention time, you hid for a couple days.

  You almost regretted it when Peter started following you around. Sure, you were, and still are, tough, but you’re no bodyguard. However, the brown-haired puppy-boy grew on you and soon he didn’t have to follow you; you met at the bus stop.

  So grew a strong friendship. You added Ned to your small group, then Michelle (sorta, she sort of just kind of hung out with all of you), though it made people call you the Nerd Patrol. Did any of you care?

  Well, a little at first, but not now.

  When you turned fourteen, something changed. You didn’t see Peter as your puppy boy friend (even though he still is). You saw his awkward, lanky, adorable shyness and how much he cares about his friends. You started noticing little things about him. How he’d mess with his hair when he’d stutter nervously, how he’d send you adorable smiles when you walked by in the halls, even how he’d chew his lip during a test. 

  Then you realized.

  You have a crush on your best friend.

  Except, he has a crush on Liz and you can’t blame him. She’s beautiful and smart and they look adorable next to each other. Who really wouldn’t love Liz? And you? Just some tomboy, dorky, nerd. Sure, that’s who Peter is, minus the tomboy part, but he deserves someone perfect, like Liz.

  You slam your locker shut in frustration as your thoughts race, followed by your heart when you think of Peter. All you wanna do is bang your head into it, but a quick glance to your left shows Michelle leaning against the wall with a granola bar in hand. She holds it out to you and your stomach grumbles.
 
  “How’d you know I didn’t eat breakfast?”

  She looks you over with a somewhat bored but knowing look. “Your hair’s in a messy ponytail and looks kinda greasy, you’re wearing a pair of your sweats and a loose T. Usually, you have your hair up neatly, you wear graphic Ts, and camos. So, no shower, slept in, and didn’t eat yet. Also, you’re upset.”

  You sigh and take the bar from her. “You know, you’re incredibly scary when you do that.”

  She shrugs, pushing off the wall. “Come on, don’t wanna miss an opportunity to draw people in distress.”

  You shake your head, following her slowly. “God, you’re so strange.”

  Settling into your seat, you bring your notebook out and start jotting down some thoughts, mostly about how you’re trying and failing to control your emotions for your best friend. Who just happens to choose now to sit next to you now.

  “Hey, Y/n. Whatcha doing?” Peter tries to lean over to see your writing.

  You shut it quickly, sliding it into your backpack and bringing out your notes for class. “Just waiting for class to start. Where were you last night? I thought we were supposed to be studying together.”

  He facepalms, groaning into his hand. “Oh, crap…look, I’m so sorry, I-something came up and I had to take care of it. I am so sorry.”

  “What’d you end up doing, then?” You can’t help a little suspicion from lacing your voice.

  Peter seems to think hard for a moment and your heart sinks. Is he trying to think of a lie or hide something from you? Maybe you guys aren’t as good of friends as you thought.

  “I had promised Ned that I’d help him his Death Star Lego set. I’m really sorry, I should’ve called.”

  You nod slowly as the teacher begins the class. You try to distract yourself with small notes that probably mean nothing to this class. He was lying. You knew he was, they did the Death Star last week. What was he doing? Maybe with Liz.

  That thought just makes your stomach burn.

  School ends in a blur for you as you can’t focus more than four seconds without going back to why Peter would lie to you. You throw your books in your locker and grab your journal notebook to bring home. If you can just get home without getting stopped-

  “Where are you going so fast?” Michelle is leaning next to the door with her arms crossed, her usual bored expression on her face.

  You huff, pouting a little. “I just wanna go home. I need my shower, okay?”

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “What do you mean?” you sigh, just wanting to leave before Peter finds you.

  “You’ve been avoiding Peter, so I’m guessing it’s because of him. What happened?”

  You shift your weight uneasily. You hadn’t told anyone, not even your parents, about your huge crush on Peter Parker, so telling both of you guys’ friend…who could turn around and just tell him…but she won’t stop asking or probably let you leave until you tell her.

  “Peter, okay? He happened.”

  Her eyes flare slightly in realization. “I see. You’re a little jealous of the attention he gives Liz because…I see.”

  You shrug and walk past her. “Like I can compete with Liz, though.”

  Michelle just sighs as you leave, shaking her head slightly. You walk home quickly, not wanting to stop again before you can scream into your pillow and basically just die. You told your biggest secret to your friend and you have no idea how to process all the things that could go wrong. Running inside, you lock yourself in your room and flop on your bed.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! Why are you so stupid?”

  You bury your face into your pillow for a while until you look up to check the time. The sun is already down and your room is flooded with a street light as you roll onto your back. Your notebook and backpack had fallen onto the floor next to your bed when you flopped onto your bed. You don’t bother to try and get them, though, you’d rather just die.

  Or take a shower.

  Deciding to do the latter, you scramble to get up and take a quick shower, coming out in a pair of shorts and old tank top with a towel to dry your hair. What were you gonna do if Michelle told someone? One thing is for sure, you were running away from New York.

  You freeze as your window is pulled up and open. Now, you don’t believe in ghosts, but that there was reason to think they’re real. However, you’re sure there’s a perfectly good reason for it to open like that…on its own. Yeah. I mean, that’s what you and Peter always say when Ned tells ghost stories. So it must be true. Right?
 
  You let out a loud sigh of relief when Spider-Man crawls in through the window, though that turns into confusion, which then turns into concern for the wall crawler as he drops with a loud groan of pain.

  “Um, excuse me?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him too much.

  He tilts his head back to look at you, his mask eyes seeming to wince as he does. “Uh, y-yeah…sorry about, uh…dropping in on you.”

  You chuckle softly at his quip, as lame as it may sound. “Think I can help?”

  He nods. “That’d be much appreciated, thank you.”

  You quickly run back into the bathroom to grab your medical supply box that your mom had made you make in case of emergencies. It’s not that big, but it has some peroxide, anti-biotic cream, bandages, and cotton balls to use. You jog back into your room to see him trying to stand up on his own, legs shaking slightly. Dropping your bag next to your bed, you grab his arm and have him sit on your bed.

  “Easy, Mr. hero. Don’t over exert yourself.”

  He huffs, groaning softly. “Fine.”

You grab your bag again and stand in front of him, shifting your weight slightly on your feet. “Um, okay, so…I did not mean for stripping to come out of this.”

  He tilts his head slightly, wondering where in the world you’re going with this.

  “I need you to take your suit off.”

  “T-the mask, too?” he asks, suddenly very worried.

  Your eyes widen. “No! No, no no, not unless you wanna…I just wanna help with where it hurts the most.”

  He nods slowly, agreeing with you finally as he presses the button in the middle of his suit, loosening it up so it just slips off. You look down into the bag, blushing a dark red. If you paid more attention to guys’ body types at school or around you, you might be able to tell who he really is with him bare in front of you. Well, besides his boxers and mask. That only makes you blush darker.

  You kneel in front of him, soaking a cotton ball in peroxide. “This is gonna suck,” you mutter.

  He chuckles softly and you swear you’ve heard it before. “I took the hit, I can take the cleaning.”

  You shrug slightly, pressing the cotton ball to one of the cuts that litter his torso. You hear him hiss under his mask, his muscles all tense, but he doesn’t pull away, so he’s pretty disciplined. You gently blow on it to keep the sting down and to dry it before you put a bandage on it, just like you’d do with a child. You don’t know he’s blushing under his mask.

  Just as you go to put some anti-biotic on the bandage, only to find out you didn’t have enough. You growl, running a hand through your hair in frustration.

  “Everything okay?” Spider-Man asks with concern.

  “Yeah. Just stay put, I gotta run downstairs for more Neosporin which is in the downstairs bathroom because my house is dumb, so stay.”

  You quickly run down to the bathroom, searching the drawer for the Neosporin before sprinting back upstairs. You sigh in relief as you don’t hear anything moving in your room, thinking he’s still sitting where you left him. You open the door and look up from the tube in your hands to talk to him, but you freeze.

  He’s reading your notebook.

  “What do you think you’re doing?!” you yell at him, making him jump and fumble the notebook, failing to catch it, so it falls back to your floor. He scrambles to sit as casually as possible, only looking more tense.

  “I, uh…oops?”

  You growl, grabbing your hair tightly. “How much did you read?”

  “Just that…you have a crush on m-your best friend. Peter Parker?”

  You nod slowly, sighing heavily as you walk back over to him. “Yeah…but it’s dumb. He doesn’t like me back, he likes this perfect girl named Liz. I don’t have a chance.”

  “How do you know that? Have you asked him?” his voice sounds tense to you.
You give him a look as you start wrapping the bandages around his body. “Like I could.”

  He stays quiet for a while before you see him reach his hand up towards his mask, slowly pulling it off his head. It comes off in almost slow motion for you, first revealing tousled brown hair, then nervous looking eyes that you know so well, then finally the face of your crush and best friend.

  “Peter?!” you screech, stumbling back away from him. “What the fu-“

  He jumps off the bed and covers your mouth with his hand, though that pretty much left him hovering over you. “Don’t scream! Please. No one else can know, okay?”

  You tear his hand away and scramble up, gasping softly for air. “Oh, my god, you’re Spider-Man…oh, my god…”

  He watches you pace nervously in front of him, rubbing his arms slightly. It’s kinda cold being pretty much naked.

  You pause, turning towards him with wide eyes. “So, you know Iron Man? And Captain America, Thor, Black Widow, all of them?”

  He nods slowly. “Yeah…I mean, I’m pretty much an Avenger.”

  A huge smile graces your lips. “Oh, my god! That’s so awesome! You have to tell me how everyone’s like! Is Iron Man really such a playboy? Is Cap’s shield really heavy? Can you lift Thor’s hammer? Is Black Wi-“

  You’re cut off by him pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours gently, shutting you up.

  “In case you were wondering, I do like you, too.” He chuckles softly as you gape at him.

  “Well…you could’ve just said so,” you murmur, connecting your lips again.


  “…Okay, but seriously, answer my questions and put some clothes on. I ain’t like that.”

Full Bloom

There was a slam from behind him as Bucky kicked the door shut with all the might his ten-year-old body could muster, and then the sounds of distant yelling from inside the room he’d just stormed from.

He didn’t care. The people his mom had taken him around to visit were assholes. He just felt bad for leaving Stevie in there to fend for himself- although to be honest, he was probably just having to be held back by Mrs Rogers as he made a desperate attempt to smash their kneecaps in.

Bucky growled at nothing, kicking a nearby rock as he marched through the unknown village. The place they were in was foreign to him; the rich side of town where Bucky rarely even heard about, let alone visited. Only reason he’d been dragged along in the first place was because of the new job his and Steve’s mom had both been offered, and their potential new bosses had wanted to meet for dinner to discuss ‘arrangements’, whatever that meant.

They probably didn’t want to discuss anything now- not after the way Bucky had reacted. 

Which was great. Meant his mom had lost the job offer. Again.

And Bucky had tried, he really had- best behaviour and everything that his mom had asked him to- he knew that this was important to her. And Sarah. Probably more so to her; she and Stevie struggled to put food on the table as it was.


And he’d ruined everything.


Sniffing and adamantly refusing to cry, he kept marching, unsure of where he was going, but uncaring too. He just needed to… to find somewhere quiet. 

He’d be in so much trouble when his momma got hold of him.


It was only a few minutes later when he came back to himself, realising that he’d somehow managed to wander into a field, filled with pretty flowers and lovely green grass. It was surrounded by trees perfect for climbing, and the sun shone on it in a way that made it all glow.

Not that Bucky cared. Right now, he just needed a place to sit and be grumpy.

Throwing himself forward, he fell to his ass with an angry little growl and tucked his knees up against his chest, staring moodily ahead of him. There were little flowers dotted around the grass, and he picked at them absently, ripping their petals off and then letting them flutter to the ground or float away in the light breeze.


“Hey! Don’t do that, what did the flowers ever do to you?”


Bucky jerked and turned around immediately, eyes wide and searching for the owner of the voice. He definitely hadn’t expected to be found in a place like this- not so soon anyway.

Ahead of him, there was a skinny little boy, his warm brown eyes as big as saucers as he stared down at Bucky and the angry look that was still etched on his face. The boy was dressed in clothes that probably cost more than the contents of Bucky’s entire room, but there was grass stains and muddy patches all over them. His curly hair was falling into his eyes a little, but he quickly brushed it out when he saw Bucky looking; probably out of habit.

“Those… those flowers are pretty. Don’t ruin them,” the boy said weakly, apparently losing his confidence as he saw Bucky’s grumpy look.

He probably did look quite scary- a boy already tall for his age, in the wrong part of town and picking apart flowers in this fancy field whilst wearing a look of absolute thunder on his face. No wonder the newcomer was looking a little shifty.

He made an effort to smooth out his face a little, but he doubted it did much. “Sorry,” he said gruffly, shrugging his shoulders, “I’ll find somewhere else, I didn’t know you were here-“

“No, I didn’t mean you had to leave,” the boy said hurriedly, taking a brave step forward, “I just heard you storming in, and wanted to see who you were. That’s all. And there’s better ways to make use of the flowers than to rip them up, you know.”

Bucky looked at him quizzically, and then his eyes drifted down to the little chain of colourful flowers the other boy was gripping in his hand. Apparently losing all confidence again when he caught Bucky staring, his eyes widened and he hid the offending object behind his back, taking a little step back once again. It was like he was dancing, he moved that much.

“They’re just flowers, it’s not a crime, boys can like flowers too you know, I don’t- don’t beat me up,” he stumbled, holding his chin high in defiance but failing to hide the panic in his eyes as he took another step back.

Bucky furrowed his brow in confusion. Why the hell would he think he was gonna get beat up? Bucky didn’t hurt anyone- not unless they started it first, anyway.

“I’m not gonna beat you up,” he declared, shaking his head, “and I know it’s okay for boys to like flowers. I was just angry, and I wanted to fiddle with somethin’. Sorry if I hurt them,” he said, biting his lip.

He didn’t want this boy to think he was mean. Even if he probably looked pretty mean right now- Bucky didn’t want him to be scared. He looked as if he was scared quite a lot, actually.

There was silence, as the boy ran another hand through his hair and bounced on the balls of his feet. He was keeping his eyes fixed on his floor, and Bucky was just about to get up and say he was leaving when the boy suddenly spoke up again.

“I come out to this field when I get upset, like you. But… uh, I use the flowers too. I just mess with them in different ways,” he said, like that was supposed to explain something.

Bucky looked at him in confusion, and after a few seconds the boy’s hand was slowly removed from behind his back, revealing the pretty chain of flowers again. “Have you ever made a daisy chain before?” he asked tentatively.
Bucky shook his head, wondering where the boy was heading.

“Okay. Do you want to learn?”

He was being looked at almost fiercely, and the boy’s knees were crouched a little, like he was preparing to run at a moment’s notice. It made Bucky frown again, because why the heck did this person seem so convinced Bucky was going to try and hurt him?

“Yeah. Okay. I’d… I’d like that,” Bucky answered, trying to smile a little, despite his foul mood.

The boy’s eyes widened, like that had not been the answer he was expecting. Bucky noted that he had very nice eyes. And hair. In fact, he was even prettier than Dorothy- the girl who sat in front of him at school. Everyone loved her- but she didn’t share a patch on the boy stood in front of him right now.

“I’m Tony,” he stated, finally stepping forward and holding out his hand.

“Bucky- nice to meet you.”

“Come with me,” Tony said, pulling on Bucky’s hand and leading them to the left, where the trees met field, “I know a place full of so many flowers you won’t even know what to do with them all.”




“So why were you angry?” Tony asked, his knee knocking against Bucky’s as he carefully wove a tiny little stem through the gap in another.

Bucky paused, face clouding over. He put his chain down carefully, in case he ripped it in his frustration. “Mine and Steve’s momma met their new bosses, and they’re really stupid.”

“What did they do?” Tony asked, “did they not know how to count to ten?”

“No, not that kinda stupid,” Bucky waved him off, “they were just mean. And wrong. There was an advert on the TV and it had two boys in it and they said that it was disgusting but it isn’t disgusting. I like boys. I know I’m not disgusting. An’ I told ‘em that much myself, ‘cuz I ain’t afraid of no dumb adults,” Bucky said defiantly, hands fisting against his legs as he thought back to their gross faces.

Tony was staring at him, and Bucky realised that maybe Tony thought he was disgusting, too, so he jumped to his feet angrily. “If you don’t like it either, you can take your flower crown and scram, ‘cuz you’re just stupid too-“

“No!” Tony raised his hands, eyes wide as he looked up at Bucky, “No, I don’t think it’s disgusting. I just think you’re… you’re really brave. I could never do that to adults. I tried to do it once, when my dad called me an idiot, but then he just hit me and so I didn’t do it again,” he said, looking at the floor again like he was… like he was embarrassed or something.

Bucky frowned again, confused. Why would his dad have hit him? Weren’t parents supposed to keep you safe from being hit, not be the ones to do it in the first place? 

That being said, Bucky had noticed the angry red mark that was cutting through Tony’s cheek, and wondered if that was the reason he was in this field in the first place. And if it was his own dad that was doing that, it made everything even worse.

“I’ll beat him up if you want,” Bucky said, sitting down again so that his leg was pressed up against Tony’s. “Like I said- I’m not scared of no adults.”

Tony’s eyes were wide, and he was staring at Bucky like he was his guardian angel or something. Bucky liked Tony looking at him like that; it made him feel all fluttery inside. “You’d really do that? For me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded his head adamantly, “definitely.”

Tony smiled, but then shook his head and sighed. “No. Dad’s strong, and even if you’re strong too, he’s big. I don’t want him to hurt you too. That’s why I come out here. I like flowers. They’re pretty. And dad can’t yell at me when I’m here.”
There was a short pause, and then Tony’s eyes widened as he turned to face Bucky. “You can’t tell anyone you saw me here, okay? If dad finds out I like flowers he’ll call me stuff and hit me and stop me coming, and I really like it here, so you can’t, okay, you can’t-“

“I ain’t telling your dad shit,” Bucky told him, liking how the curse word sounded on his tongue. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he’d heard someone yell it on the street, and thought it would be a good thing to use here. “I like flowers too. And you. I wouldn’t tell him anything that might hurt either of ‘em.”

Tony relaxed a little, and nodded gratefully. “Thank you. And by the way, I definitely don’t think it’s disgusting. I like boys too- more than I like girls. But I just don’t tell anyone because I don’t want people at school or home to beat me up more,” he admitted, worrying at his lower lip and avoiding Bucky’s eyes again.

“But… why are you telling me then?” He asked.

Tony looked at him, and then shrugged, his cheeks beginning to turn pink. 

“’Cause you’re my friend. Right? And friends can tell each other secrets.”

Bucky thought about every secret of Steve’s he had kept, and then nodded his head. “Definitely.”

“Good,“ Tony broke off, finally finished with the little chain of daises he’d been making through the conversation. He raised it up and smiled at his work, before shuffling forward a little and carefully placing it around Bucky’s neck. “It suits you,” he said quietly, and Bucky thought the blush that was spreading through his cheeks again was very pretty.

Bucky nodded looking down at the chain around his neck and smiling. “You can wear mine when I’ve finished- it won’t be as good though, ‘cuz you’ve been doing it longer and I’m still learning-“

“I think it’s great anyway,” Tony assured him, picking up the half-finished masterpiece, which was a little uneven and splayed. But Tony was practically beaming at it, and it made Bucky feel lovely and special.


“BUCK! BUCKY! YOU HERE?” A loud voice interrupted, and both of them jerked, Tony’s eyes flashing with panic as he dropped the chain and turned. Bucky made note that he didn’t like loud voices.

Quickly grabbing his hand, he caught Tony’s attention. “Hey- don’t worry, that’s just my friend. He’s called Steve, and I’ve been gone a while, so everyone’s probably worried. And mad. But not at you,” Bucky explained hurriedly. “Do you wanna go, or do you wanna meet him?”

Tony paused, before looking across at the boy who was even tinier than him, shock of blonde hair falling over his face as he stumbled through the long grass and searched for his friend. “I’ll stay.”

“Good, because he’s great- you’ll love him,” Bucky grinned, before pulling them both up and waving. “STEVIE!”

Steve turned, eyes locking on to both of them immediately. He frowned a little at the sight of Tony, but it was gone in a second and replaced with a friendly smile. “WE’VE BEEN LOOKING ALL OVER FOR YOU, IDIOT,” he yelled across the field, beginning to jog across until he had caught up with them. “Your mom’s gonna give you an earful when you get back, you know?”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, I know I was stupid- I ruined their jobs-“

“No no, they don’t care about that. The people were assholes, they turned down the offer as soon as you slammed out of the door,” Steve explained, “your mom’s mad because you just wandered off for two and a half hours in a place you don’t know. Idiot.”

“I had Tony,” Bucky said defensively, “we made flower crowns. And now we’re friends and he’s gonna hang out with us, okay? He needs to teach you how to make flower chains- he’s awesome at them,” Bucky explained, squeezing Tony’s hand and smiling, gesturing proudly to the chain around his head.

Steve stared at it for a few seconds, and Tony was all jittery again, but then Steve just smiled in wonder and stepped forward, examining the work around Bucky’s neck. “That’s so cool! Can you make me one?” He asked, eyes wide.

Tony practically beamed, and nodded his head happily. 

“But I get to make Tony’s,” Bucky added quickly, shooting Steve a look. 

“Why can’t I make one for him too?” Steve asked, frowning.

“’Cuz I’ve known him longer and I asked first,” Bucky replied.

Tony giggled a little, and Bucky’s stomach went all fluttery again. “You can… if you want, you can both make me one?”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but upon seeing the desperate looks Bucky was throwing his way, he slowly shut it again, comprehension dawning on his face. “Oh. I didn’t realise… uh, you know what, Tony, I think I’ll leave it to Bucky. He’s better at them than me, and he did ask first.”

Tony just shrugged, and then smiled at Bucky again. They were still holding hands. “Okay.”

“Uh, Buck- I hate to break this up, but if I don’t come back with you soon, I think your mom’s gonna call for a search party,” Steve said sheepishly, interrupting their moment and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Bucky sighed grumpily, but nodded his head. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Tony, do… do you want to come ‘round to my house sometime? Steve will probably be there, and there’s a nice meadow behind our garden. You can teach us how to make even cooler chains than before, and… and I’ll be able to make you one all on my own?” Bucky asked it like a question, and looked stubbornly at his shuffling feet as Tony’s hand squeezed around his own.

“I’d like that, yeah,” Tony said softly, prompting another beam from Bucky.

“Cool! I’ll… I’ll meet you here at the same time tomorrow, and we’ll walk down, okay? Sound good?”

Tony nodded happily, a little stunned expression on his face as his gaze jolted from person to person, as if he expected the joke to be revealed.

Bucky squeezed his hand a little tighter and then let go, the great big grin still on his face. Bad moods seemed impossible now. “I’ll come find you tomorrow then, Tony,” he called out behind him, walking up to Steve and then making their way toward the roadside.

There was a pause, and then the sound of hurrying footsteps prompted Bucky to turn around again. He only had a chance to look at Tony in surprise for a second, before suddenly the smaller boy had leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

It lasted 0.3 seconds and the butterflies that Bucky had been feeling all afternoon suddenly exploded in his tummy, lighting up his face bright pink and turning his knees to jelly. He felt like his heart was doing somersaults as he watched Tony lean back down again, covered in a pretty blush of his own, and then turn tail and run back through the grass, waving behind him as he went.

Bucky stood there, stunned, until Steve suddenly burst out laughing and elbowed him in the ribs. “Bucky and Tony, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-“
“Shuddup,” Bucky said gruffly, unable to take the smile off his face as he shoved Steve gently.


Steve continued to giggle all the way home, but Bucky didn’t even care. He was going to look up how to make the best flower-crowns that night, so that he would be able to impress Tony when they next met tomorrow.

“I think he’s gonna be real good, Buck,” Steve said, suddenly solemn, as he nodded his head pensively.

“I know he is,” Bucky agreed, head still tilted in the direction the other boy had run.


He was gonna make the best flower crown for Tony. Just you watch.

The Promise

Title: The Promise (Mechanic!Dean x Reader, Best Friends AU). Part 1.

Summary: When Dean Winchester was a little kid, he met a girl that would change his life. So, he stood by her through thick and thin and every time people asked him what home was to him all he could think of was her beautiful smile and her big, bright eyes and the sound of her laughter. Because, like Melville used to say, his home was not down in any map. True places never are.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Mary and John Winchester (mentioned), Sam Winchester, Benny Laffite, Leslie (OFC, only mentioned), Lisa Braeden

Word count: 7217 (I know, I know, it’s a monster fic but I hope it’s worth it)

Warnings: Language. Lots of fluff. Angst. Divorche, mentions of an almost-fatal car accident and drunk driving, death of a parent. Kid Dean (trust me that should be a warning). Lots of feels. 

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @luci-in-trenchcoats ‘s 2K Follower Challenge. Michelle, congratulations on your milestone, you deserve it so much! Thank you for organizing this and for letting me participate. I had tons of fun writing this.

Now into the fic, my prompt was “ We’ll figure it out. We always do.” and it is included in the text below in bold. (This is an AU, written entirely from Dean’s POV and hopefully they’ll be more parts.) 

Enjoy everyone!


Dean was five years old when he met the girl that would change his life. Of course, he was too young to know it then, but that didn’t stop Lady Luck from working her magic.

Everything started at the playground just a few blocks away from his house. The little Y/H/C girl was there again that morning, just like the last two times, jumping off the swing like she could fly, but Dean didn’t want to leave his mum and his brother alone to go talk to her. So, he stayed away, stealing glances every now and then, until another boy, older than him and plainly mean, shoved her off the swing and made her fall flat on her butt.

The girl gasped in surprise, her bottom lip wobbling and Dean knew he had to do something about it because he hated seeing girls cry; it reminded him of that time his parents spent the entire night fighting, and of the next morning, when his mother’s eyes were red and puffy and he had to hug her and tell her that joke about the stick being brown and sticky to make her laugh.

So, the green-eyed boy walked to that annoying kid, told him to leave her alone and when he didn’t listen and made fun of her again, Dean punched him so hard that his stupid Pokemon hat flew off and his whole face turned red.

A few seconds later, Stupid Hat was leaving with his tail between his legs and Dean was turning towards the girl that looked like a scared little bird, her big Y/E/C eyes wide open.

“Are you okay?” he implored, taking a step forward.

She nodded solemnly and looked down on the ground.

“Are you going to be mean to me like he was?” she asked.

Dean shook his head.

“No. He was an idiot. Here, give me your hand.” He said and she obeyed, smiled shyly at him.

She was kind of cute.

Keep reading

Wiggle Room

A/N: this is just a lil smutty, cuz i cant write full blown smut rn, but theres a hint of sin


Stupid Keith and his stupid mullet getting us stuck in a stupid closet. Why does he have to be so stupid and- Lance was pulled away from his thoughts by a loud banging noise. “Keith!” He whisper-yelled. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Keith sighed and hit his head against the wall. “I was trying to get us out of this closet after you got us stuck in here!”

“I didn’t get us stuck in here! You got us stuck in here!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

They tried to hit each other, but in the small space it hardly worked. It only served to get them tangled up in each other, becoming a mess of limbs and pain.

“Hey, get your knee off of my leg!”

Keith mumbled something about where he’d rather put his knee, but sensing that it wouldn’t get them out of the closet he restrained himself. Pushing himself up and forcing Lance to lean back a bit further, Keith moved his knee from Lance’s leg to his stomach.

“What are y-”

“I might be able to get us out through the roof. Don’t. Move.”

Hearing the urgency in Keith’s voice, Lance pouted and leaned his back against the wall. Keith was trying to reach the ceiling, but couldn’t find a way through. He stretched further up, putting himself off-balance. As Lance watched Keith struggle not to fall, he laughed to himself. ‘At least I don’t have to be up there working. HA! Suck it Keith!’

“Little help here?” Keith asked, voice strained. Lance sighed and put his hands at Keith’s hips to steady him. “Thank you.” ‘There’s no reason to sound so uptight, mullet. Who put that stick up your ass anyway?’

A few minutes had passed and Lance was bored again. His fingers started fidgeting, playing with the hem of Keith’s shirt. Once, he pushed a little too far up, and he could see the jut of Keith’s pale hips. Lance gulped and slid his hands back down. After a few more minutes, Lance tried to do all he could to distract Keith. Pushing his shirt up inch by inch, letting his fingers skim over the exposed skin. Keith was hiding it well, but he honestly had no clue how to get them out of this closet. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Alright Lance, hold me steady.”

“Um, okay? Why, exactly?”

Keith didn’t answer his question and instead lifted his other leg and placed his knee on Lance’s hip. A strangled noise escaped Lance’s throat, and his fingers tightened against Keith’s skin.

“What are you doing?” Lance asked nervously, suddenly aware of the distance between his face and Keith’s lower body, or lack thereof.

“I’m getting us out of here. Stop trying to distract me and sit still.”

Lance sighed again. Out of nowhere, he got an idea. A smug grin danced across his face as he formulated his plan. ‘How’s this for a distraction, Keith?’ Lance pushed Keith’s dark grey shirt up a bit more, exposing his stomach. Biting back a laugh, Lance leaned in, and brushed his lips against Keith’s stomach. Seeing no immediate results, Lance changed his approach. He started just where Keith’s hipbone appeared from above his jeans, and started to kiss his way up, licking and sucking and biting along the way. Glancing up, he could see Keith biting back a moan. ‘What’s the matter, prettyboy, can’t handle a little distraction?’ Lance continued his ministrations, going to the other hip, then up Keith’s stomach and onto his chest. By the time he’d gotten up to his neck, Keith was leaning against the door, trying to keep quiet.


“In here? You’re sure?” Shiro waited for a response. “Alright, princess.” Shiro opened the closet, and out fell Keith with Lance on top of him.

“Ohh, hii Shiro.” Lance grinned nervously. “What brings you here?” Both Keith and Lance had turned bright red, and Keith was struggling under Lance to cover up his hickey-covered chest.

Shiro sighed. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see this and you two are going to stop making out in closets. Capisce?”

The couple on the floor nodded frantically, both of them trying to hide themselves from Shiro, who bit the inside of his cheek and walked off, shaking his head. After he left, Lance turned back to Keith. “So, finish what we started?”

“Hell yeah.”

sleepyhead

this was an anonymous request, hope you like it love!

Word Count: 1000+

Rating: PG

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you scrolled through your Instagram. 

“What’s funny?” Joe asked, looking down at you. You were on your back on the couch, your head on his lap, his fingers running through your hair. You passed your phone to him, showing him Caspar’s Instagram post with Maddie. 

“They’re so cute,” you said, reaching up to toy with the strings of Joe’s hoodie. 

“We’re cuter,” Joe smiled at you.

“I know,” was all you said, but Joe knew you well enough to read what you didn’t say. He took your hand, kissing the back of it gently. 

The two of you were a very open couple when it came to each other, but not when it came to the rest of the world. Joe wasn’t really one to share his personal life, and that included you. You understood it, of course. After seeing all the hate on Maddie’s profile, or any girl who could possibly have any connection with any of the boys for that matter, you didn’t have to question why Joe wanted to keep your relationship a secret. 

That didn’t mean it didn’t suck though. From no PDA in the vlogs to no social media posts, it was hard to keep up with sometimes. Joe was Joe, but Joe was also thatcherjoe, and not being a part of that side of his life was almost like missing a big part of him. Sometimes, you just wanted to post a cute picture of your boyfriend. All the thoughts made you feel selfish, so you never brought them up, but Joe saw right through you anyways.

“I wish we didn’t have to hide either,” he murmured to you. “I’d show you off to the whole world if I could.”

“You can you know. I’m sure I’ll develop a tough skin,” you replied.

“You shouldn’t have to.” His voice was sharp, and you tread carefully.

Keep reading

Soft

Originally posted by jonesinforbones

Pairing: Bones x Reader

Word Count: 2724

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST (self-image issues, insecurity, self-loathing), brief description of injury, swearing

A/N:  I’ve been feeling not so hot for the past few days so I thought writing about it would help things out. This fic is intensely personal to me, so I hope you guys enjoy it. 

More than anything you were glad your quarters didn’t have a mirror outside the bathroom. You weren’t sure you could handle looking at yourself right now, especially not in the skin-tight uniform top and the short skirt that came with it. You’d convinced Scotty a long time ago to let you wear coveralls instead, but the Captain had called you up to the bridge for briefing on an away mission, and you hadn’t been able to convince him to let you keep the coveralls on. Normally, you’d just pop on a pair of tights underneath and call it a day, but your last pair had torn where your thighs rubbed together and you hadn’t gotten around to fixing them yet.

Keep reading

Inspired by @nonbinarytonystark‘s prompt- Tony likes to wear Steve’s clothes


It was a thing.


It didn’t mean anything, per se… Steve’s sweaters were just cozy, okay? And his sweatpants were soft and his tshirts were baggy and they all smelt like something undeniably Steve-

Yeah. Anyway. Like Tony said. It was a thing.

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected anyone to notice, really- they were just a few clothes, after all. Nothing special. The team used his stuff all the time- what made this different? Nothing, that was what. It wasn’t like Tony… hoarded it, or anything. And he certainly didn’t steal Steve’s jumpers after bad nights in order to calm him down. That would just be stupid.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid.

In fact, if he hadn’t come down one time, half asleep and wearing literally none of his own clothes, everyone probably would have just let it slide. Tony honestly hadn’t done it intentionally- he was just tired and a little shaken from the lovely morning nightmare that had served as his wakeup call, and Steve’s clothes were soft and big and smelt really nice.

It was calming. It was… home. 

So Tony had slid them on without a second thought and then trundled downstairs, pretty much still asleep. Mornings, especially early ones like this one, were most definitely not his forte.

Except… turns out that superspies were observant. Who’d have thought? 

Anyway, they noticed it immediately. Natasha just raised an eyebrow, but Clint was an asshole, so Clint wolf-whistled and jostled Steve’s shoulder, making him turn from where he was busily preparing his breakfast in order to look in their direction. Tony, still pretty much sleepwalking at that point, just tried to zoom in on the coffee and direct his body toward it. He doesn’t notice everyone staring, or Steve’s progressively reddening cheeks.

“Nice look, Tony,” Natasha says quietly, eyes still on the morning paper.

“Fuck yourself,” he says cheerily, and barely even winces when the spoon flies an inch away from his nose in response. He’s grown used to it.

Clint makes a move, ruffling his hair and then cooing, despite Tony’s grumble of protest. He would normally just punch him, but did he mention how tired he was? Really fucking tired.

“Don’t you just want to fucking bundle him up when he’s like this? How do you resist, Steve?” Clint asks, and Tony glares at him and turns to Steve, ready to hear a witty quip in reply, but the other man is just spluttering a little incoherently, eyes still fixed on the pale blue button-down that’s pretty much slipping right off Tony’s shoulders.

His face falls a little, because shit, Steve’s noticed. And now they’re probably going to have a long and awkward conversation about boundaries, where Steve tells him he needs to stop wearing his clothes, which will suck, because Tony loves Steve’s clothes-

He’s so caught up in his own head that he forgets to watch where his feet are going, and they catch on the overhanging material that hangs over his toes whenever he wears Steve’s sweatpants, and then he’s off, falling face first, destination: corner of the fucking tabletop.

Great way to start the day.

He braces for impact, a little yelp escaping his lips as he jerks his hands up on instinct- but impact doesn’t come. Instead, there’s a sudden tight pressure on his waist, and he realizes it’s an arm that’s just managed to snag him before he brains himself. Which is nice. Definitely helpful.

Steve is stood there, a little awkwardly, arm simply outstretched and holding Tony’s entire body-weight like it’s nothing, which is probably not something he needs to be thinking about when wearing thin sweatpants-

“Where are your glasses, Tony?” Steve says, fond exasperation evident in his voice as he pulls Tony upright again and then softly places a hand against his jaw, checking to see that all braining incidents had been 100% avoided.

Tony scowls, and shrugs. “Left them out somewhere- but I don’t need them to see my own two feet, Steve, only reason I fell was because your pants are-”

He’s about to say stupidly big, before realizing that, being the insanely clever person he is, he just managed to expose himself and his clothe-stealing ways right in front of the man himself.


Amazing. He was on a god damn roll this morning. God- he wished he’d just knocked himself out on the tabletop. 


But rather than frowning and pulling him up on it, Steve just blushes a little bit deeper, and Tony watches his eyes flicker down very briefly, before dragging themselves back up immediately and only making the blush go even darker, and at this rate Steve is going to be a motherfucking tomato, or his cheeks are going to burst open from too much blood rushing around in them.

“They suit you,” Steve says quietly,and Tony has to question whether or not he’s even conscious at this point, because that was definitely a lip bite, and Steve’s eyes keep flickering down toward Tony’s exposed collarbone like there’s a god damn magnet attached to the thing-

“Wait,” Tony blurted suddenly, squinting a little and hoping that his eyesight really isn’t failing him enough to imagine that, “do you…no way-do you like that?”

Steve laughed, and this time it was a lick of the lips, which was honestly just unfair at this time of day. “Uhhh-”

“he means he likes you wearing his clothes, but he’d prefer them back on his bedroom floor,” Bruce piped up, which was surprising, because everyone had assumed he’d just been napping on the tabletop.

Steve frowned. “Can you maybe let me flirt on my own, guys?” 

“Hey, you chose to do this in the communal room, your fault,” Clint said, before waving them away, “now shoo- go have your way with him or whatever, Steve- I don’t want to see any more of this here, I’m eating my cereal.”

Tony looked at Steve, still trying to actually conceive what was happening here. Steve just looked at him, waiting for a sign of confirmation, and when Tony gave a confused nod of his head, Steve wasted absolutely no time in sweeping him directly off his feet and into an effortless bridal carry, beginning to maneuver them both out of the communal room at a brisk pace.

Tony blinked, hands wrapping around Steve’s neck instinctively, feeling more than a little blissed out when all Steve’s warmth and softness and smell that he usually leeched off his clothes was suddenly pressed up directly against him. 

“Bye,” was all Steve called out, before sliding out into the corridor and immediately pressing Tony against the wall, mouth meeting Tony’s possessively, greedily.

“You really like the clothes, huh,” Tony whispered in amazement, in between kisses.

He was kissing Steve he was kissing Steve he was kissing Steve he was kissing St-

Steve smiled, hands wandering underneath the button down and slipping around his waist. “Every time, every damn time you’d come down wearing something of mine, I wanted to do this. I thought you were doing it on purpose- you had to be. There couldn’t have been any other reason you hadn’t noticed how I reacted to it.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply, biting down on a groan between breaths, but Steve kissed him again, picking him up once more, this time by the ass, and then waiting for Tony to wrap his legs around Steve’s waist before moving them forward. “I might make you keep the shirt on, though. It looks good. Real good.My clothes always look good on you”

Tony grinned, “possessive streak, have we, Rogers?”

“You have no idea,”

“I feel like I’m about to find out, though.”

Steve smiled, smug and dirty as he kissed Tony’s neck, whispering “damn fuckin’ straight.”


Okay. So maybe the morning was looking up, after all.

ficlet: all the glory that i bare (even/isak)

Summary: Isak buzzes his hair off on a dare. Even suffers through the five stages of grief. (a.k.a., yes, I wrote a ficlet in response to Tarjei’s new haircut. Sorry not sor—you know what, yes, actually I am very sorry.) Can also be found on AO3 here.


Denial

When Isak walks through the door, Even does a double take.

Okay, maybe it’s more like a quintuple take. Who’s counting?

“What did you do to your hair?” he blurts, and it maybe comes out a little sharper than intended, because Isak winces pretty hard at his tone.

But…he just walked through the door…like that. Like it was no big deal. Like the Earth hadn’t just shifted on its fucking axis. Like Even’s entire reality wasn’t suddenly crumbling around him.

So, yeah. Faced with this…this travesty…Even can hardly be blamed for his reaction.

“Is it bad?” Isak asks, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “We got so drunk last night, and I can remember Magnus daring me to buzz it off but I honestly don’t remember actually doing it.”

Even’s going to find Magnus. He’s going to find Magnus, and he’s going to have words with him. Man to man. Dude to dude. Fist to face.

Okay, maybe not that last one. Even’s not a violent guy.

But still.

Keep reading

Anti-social // Cole Sprouse

Hi ^^ I love your writing and I was wondering if I could request a cole x reader. Like the reader and cole are together for a long time now and she’s like super shy and stuff bc maybe there was something in her past.And cole takes her with him to the riverdale set and all the cast members are super nice but to much for the reader and cole is like really protective about the reader and the others ask him if they did something wrong and cole explains that the reader is just a very shy person. 

 Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1,554

Characters: Cole Sprouse, KJ Apa, Lili Reinhart, Camila Mendes, Madelaine Petsch, Casey Cott, Trevor Stines, Skeet Ulrich, Luke Perry.

 — —

Socialising wasn’t exactly your forte. You preferred to hide away in the shadows and keep to yourself. Your parents didn’t exactly like you socialising with kids that they didn’t know, so you rarely had friends that stuck around.

Your boyfriend, Cole, on the other hand, was much more social than you were. He loved to go out with his friends, but you preferred to sit on the couch with a book and spend the night in. That was half of the reason you hadn’t met his co-stars just yet. But today, he forced you out of the house.

The car ride from the apartment you two were staying at consisted mostly of ‘Cole, seriously. I don’t want to go’, ‘(Y/N), you’re already in the car. Get over it.’, ‘I could jump out the car, you know.’ ‘Don’t be silly.’ So here you were, sitting in the car out the front of Cole’s trailer, your arms crossed over your chest and a pout on your lips.

“Come on, grumpy,” Cole grinned, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek, to which you complied with him and got out the car, closing the door and following him into his trailer, which was surprisingly decent. (You mostly paid attention to the Polaroids on the wall, which you and Dylan appeared in most of them). You sat on the double bed that was in the corner of the trailer, frowning a little. “How do you not miss your own bed or mine compared to this? You always say you’re comfortable here.” You put your phone down, falling back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling, which had fairy lights strung across the roof. “You’re so Tumblr, oh my gosh.”

“Do not judge my hipster aesthetic. The rest of the cast love it.” He grabbed your phone from next to you, putting it on charge since you were complaining about not having a charger and your phone was on 7%.

“So, you’ve had all of the cast here, huh? How many times have you and KJ made out on this bed?” You smirk, sitting back up to look at him and biting your lip. Cole turned to look at you, his eyebrow raised as he stalked towards you, leaning forward, his hands on either side of your hips. You had started to lean back, teasing him as his lips tried to attach themselves to yours.

Once your back hit the cold wall of the trailer, his lips had immediately started at your collarbone, sucking on it gently and then he started to kiss up your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly at it, but as soon as the both of you started to get into the swing of things, you were both interrupted by someone banging on the trailer door. “Dinner is ready!”

“C’mon. Time for you to meet the cast.” Cole pulled you up with him, making you become a little stiff and frown a bit. “You can always like, I don’t know. Bring the food here?” You suggested, watching him shrug on a coat, since it was a bit chilly outside. “You’re going to need a jumper, babe. It’s going to snow tonight.” Cole ignored what you had said, grabbing his spare jacket and slipping it over your shoulders, letting you slip your arms through.

Following him out of the trailer, you slowly walked next to him, hoping to waste as much time as you can. “Come on,” Cole muttered, his arm slinging over your shoulder and pulling you along, making you move a bit faster. “I love you.”

“I love you…” You muttered back, chewing on your lip. Once the pair of you reached the huge tent where the food was prepared and served, your heart started to beat a bit faster, making your breath hitch. If only your parents hadn’t been so stupid…

“Cole, mate!” You heard KJ call out. You looked up at Cole, seeing the grin on his face as he led you over to a huge round table, where the cast of Riverdale was sat at. There were two seats, obviously where you and Cole would be sitting.

“I’m going to put you next to Trev. He’s more chilled out, rather than KJ. You’ll probably swoon over his accent and leave me for him.” Cole held your shoulders, pushing you in front of him and making you sit down. “What makes you say I won’t leave you for Trev?” You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Cole looked at you with a glare, but a small smirk was on his lips.

“Guys, this is (Y/N). You all know about her, but this is her. In the flesh.” Cole announced loudly, making your heart beat quickly and your face go red.

There was a chorus of ‘nice to meet you!’, ‘you’re so much prettier than the photo’s!’, and ‘glad you finally decided to bring her’. You smiled, waving a little bit and taking a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Let me guess. Cole forced you here, didn’t he?” You heard Trev whisper into your left ear, making you look at him and nod a little. You could probably become really good friends with Trevor. He seemed really calm and chilled out.

Cole had left you at the table as he, KJ and a few others left to go get food. You bit your lip, fiddling with your thumbs and hoping that Cole would be quick and be back at your side.

“So, (Y/N)! Cole has told us so much about you, but now that you’re here, we can finally get a bit more details!” Camila started, a huge grin on her lips. You picked at your nails, a quiet ‘what do you want to know?’ coming from your lips as you looked up at her, shyly.

“Okay! So Cole never told us how you two met!” Madelaine asked, excited to hear the wacky story of how the two of you got together. You swallowed a lump in your throat looking over your shoulder, seeing KJ and Cole messing around together, still waiting in line for food. You turned back to see two older men, sitting across from you, looking at you with worried faces. “Kids, why don’t you let her settle in first, you’ve probably frightened the poor girl.” You know that Skeet and Cole spent a lot of time together, so they’re on screen relationship wasn’t as awkward, so you smiled softly at him.

“Nonsense! She’s fine! Right, (Y/N)? You’re fine! See, Skeet!” Camila grinned, to which Madelaine and Lili nodded along with, all three looking at you like you were a piece of meat. “Actually. I-uh, I need to go.” You quickly got up, pulling the sleeves of Cole’s jacket over your hands as you turned towards Cole’s trailer, walking as quickly as you can.

-Cole’s POV-

Cole saw you move quickly across the grass area, headed towards the pavement and the cluster of trailers. He looked at the cast, who were all a bit shocked due to your sudden exit. Cole had two foam takeaway containers in his hand, eyebrows furrowed as he walked back towards the round table, setting the containers down.

“Was it something we did?” Casey asked Cole, making Cole furrow. “Uh, well, the girls, mostly. You all shouldn’t have scared her like that. It would’ve been better to ease her into the conversation,” Luke added, looking at Camila, Madelaine and Lili, who all looked guilty,

“Oh, no. Absolutely not. She’s just very shy. Her parents didn’t really let her socialise much, so she’s a bit… fragile.” Cole started, sitting down and taking a deep breath. “Nothing that happened tonight is your fault. I think I protect her a little too much, which is also kind of bad. I want her to socialise with all of you guys. Because, I don’t want her going through life and just talking to people who are very close to her, you know?” Cole finished, grabbing some plastic cutlery and taking a deep breath. “I think I’ll go and take this into her. I’ll see you all for filming after.”

­-(Y/N)’s POV­-

You sat on the bed in Cole’s trailer, leaning against the wall and taking deep breaths. You felt so stupid. Running off like a little kid. You should’ve sucked it up and stayed there. They’re all probably laughing at your stupidity. Cole too.

“Babe?” You heard Cole’s voice break you from your thoughts. “In here,” you murmured, picking at your nails. You looked up, seeing him in all his beauty, carrying in two takeaway containers and placing them on the bed.

“You alright?” He asked you, pushing some of your hair behind your ear and smiling softly. “Luke and Skeet told me what happened. I want to apologise for their behaviour. They never usually act like this. They were just really excited to finally meet my amazing and beautiful girlfriend.”

You smiled, a small blush appearing on your cheeks as you picked up a container, bringing it to your lap and opening it. “Butter Chicken. You remembered.” You looked up at him, grabbing a fork and blowing a kiss.

“Can’t forget what my girlfriend likes, can I?” He winked, making you shake your head laughing.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

Park Chanyeol// Feasible - Part 1

Originally posted by babyuns

Prompt: You’re a work-for-hire girl - for the criminals and criminally rich. Your job is to threaten, steal from, frighten or hurt whoever you’ve been employed to - but your newest job involves a person you swore you’d never talk to again. Someone who brought you into this entire business - and tried to get you out. Someone who, should you accept this challenge, would open a Pandora’s box of disaster…(/2 /3 /4 5 /6)
Scenario: AU, angst, miniseries
Word Count: 3,560

Keep reading

Mirror and stone

Sameen’s voice in Farsi is liquid and gentle. At least, it seems that way to you now, hearing her speak for the first time, your head in her lap and your eyes closed. One hand weaves through your hair; the other holds her father’s battered copy of Rumi’s love poetry.

It’s late, but neither of you can sleep. The spring night is unseasonably warm, so you’ve folded back the sheets and are currently sweating in a tank top and a pair of boxers from Sameen’s drawer. Seemed fair to steal, since you’re the one who dropped off and picked up her laundry at the wash-and-fold around the corner. The shirt you’re wearing is old enough that, even freshly laundered, it smells like her.

You don’t know what the words mean; you simply let them wash over you and through you. Sameen reads limpidly, fluently, in musical phrases. She smooths hair over your temple, cards through the strands, winds a curl around her finger.

The heat is making your shoulder ache; the painkillers you reluctantly took have only just started to work through your body and soften your thoughts. None of that matters much now, with your cheek resting on Sameen’s inner thigh and her voice pouring over and into every part of you.

Keep reading

“you. are. everything”. requested part 1.

the mornings in kattegat were ivars favorites. so bright, so sunny, so peaceful.

every morning at sunrise, ivar would crawl up to his favorite spot up on that cliff ledge, just overlooking the sea, and watch as the sun peeked over the mountains.

the air was so fresh and crisp, the sun so warm upon his skin. here on this ledge, no one was here to bother him, to tease him, to anger him. here, it was just he, himself, and his thoughts.

ivar had been doing a lot of thinking lately, so much so, he’d go to bed everynight with a splitting head-ache.

even though ivar came up here to rid himself of the stressesof everyday life, there was one troubling thing that never ever left his mind.

you.

damn you, damn you to hell. damn you and that smile, damn you and that body, that touch, those hands, those looks, those eyes.

ivar huffed and flew back on to the ground, his head landing in a soft patch of moss. why did you have to plague his every thought? his every memory?

why?

no matter how hard ivar tried not to think of you, no matter how tight he closed his eyes, or clenched his fists, you never went away.

his mother would often say: “these thoughts are normal, ivar. she is a pretty girl, and a good soul. every man has thoughts of a woman such as herself”.
his mother thought it was a faze. but could a faze really last for over thirteen years?

ivar could remember the first time he had seen you.

a scared little girl, clutching her mothers hand tightly, fearfully watching the large men crowd around her.

his father, ragnar lothbrok, had brought both you and your mother home from a raid.

ivar remembered being very confused, and very curious when he seen a small rope around your neck, holding two metal bars crossing over one another.

something his father explained to him when he got older.

you were catholic.

the word didn’t really hit ivar the way it did his mother. his mother was quite mad at his father for bringing two catholics into her home.

but over time, when a local man had bought the two of you, she settled down a bit.

when ivar was a child, he never wanted to be around the other children (mostly because they never wanted to play with him because of his condition).

ivar always wanted a friend that would be just like him. quiet, kept to himself, loved his weapons and training, loved the stories of the gods.

but instead, he got something a little….. different.

                                                ~~~~~

the day was everything ivar hated. cheerful and loud.

eight year old ivar was currently sitting on a log, messing with the straps on his hands and legs. the stupid, heavy things his mother made him wear.

he watched scornfully at the children who were running and playing and laughing with each other.

he didn’t want to admit it, but he really did want a friend. he huffed loudly and turned to lay his body down the on the log.

why did the gods curse him with non working legs? why did that have to put him through this horrible pain and humiliation?-

“hello”.

ivar jumped at the sound of a squeeky high pitched voice.

he looked over and found the little slave girl his father had brought back from his recent raid.

her hair pulled into a tight braid that casscaded down her back. she had a bright smile upon her face.

when ivar didn’t say anything, she repeated her greeting.

“hello!”.

ivar cringed at the annoying sound.

“hello” ivar replied, his voice clearly showing his annoyence. but the girl didn’t really seem to notice.

she leaned over him, her smile still present on her face.

“what are you doing?” she questioned, her head turned to the side like a confused child.

ivar huffed, and went to speak, but was cut off as his annoying brother, sigurd, yelled out from the crowd of playing children.

“do not waste your time, slave girl. he is a cripple, he cannot play”.

the girl looked at the other boy with a strange look, almost like she couldn’t understand him. she then turned her head back to ivar. her eyes going to his legs.

“come play with us! leave him!” sigurd called out once more. but the girl shook her head to him, this surprised ivar, yet made him even more annoyed that she was not leaving.

sigurd shrugged and went back to playing with the other children. the girl turned back to ivar and started playing with the hem of her dress, her other hand was holding something round.

a ball.

ivar’d never played ball with anyone other than himself and his mother, sometimes his eldest brothers, ubbe and bjorn would play as well, but they were always busy.

when the little girl seen him eyeing her favorite toy, she smiled even wider and nodded towards the ball.

“do you wanna play?-”.

“what makes you think i wanna play with that?” ivar asked, rudely cutting her off.

“or you?” ivar said, wanting to hurt her and make her go away.

but she laughed, she actually laughed. ivar didn’t know which was more annoying, her voice or her laugh.

“i don’t know, you were looking at it like you wanted to. i don’t know anyone here, and i saw you alone over here and i thought you could use a friend” she said innocently, her wide eyes shining with happiness.

ivar scoffed and shook his head.

“i don’t need a friend, and i do not want to play”. but deep down, ivar really wanted one, just not her. not some stupid little slave girl.

she sighed and messed around with the ball.

“please?” she looked up at him, a pout on her lips. ivar looked away from her and rolled his eyes.

when ivar didn’t respond, she got louder.

“pleeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaassssse!?”.

ivar still remained silent.

“PLEASE!!”.

“FINE!” ivar shouted back, really wanting nothing more than to have this girl get away from him.

she smiled triumphantly and smoothed out her skirts. she held the ball in her hands, waiting for ivar to situate himself. he sat up and moved his legs in front of him.

he nodded and sighed.

“ready?” she asked, her voice shaking with excitement.

“yes” ivar replied, his voice tight with anger and embarresment.

the two played ball for hours. ivar didn’t know how one littl girl could be so full of energy. he tried everything to get her away and tiered out.

he threw the ball over her head, farther and farther with each throw, making her run faster and longer away from him.

but she’d always run back, smiling and laughing. he thought maybe, just maybe he could bear the stupid gam, if she weren’t talking, but, she would not shut her mouth.

she talked about everything. what she likes, what she hated. he learned not only her name (y/n), but her favorite food, her favorite color, her favorite game. she just would not shut. up.

when the sun had finally set, his mother came to his rescue. calling him in for the night.

he was the happiest he’d been in a long time. his mother came to him and  grabbed him, the little girl waved and gave ivar one more smile before running home herself.

                                              ~~~~~~~~~

ivar smiled and shook his head, remembering that half toothed smile of yours. he could remember your hair blowing behind you as you ran home.

he also remembered thinking that would be the last of you, the last time you would annoy him. oh how wrong he was.

                                                ~~~~~~~~~

ivar awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. he growled angrily and turned over, sleep still fogging his brain.

his fathers bright smiling face peering down on him.

“father?, what is it?”. ragnar was chuckling, his body practically shaking with giddyness.

“a girl, there is a girl outside, ivar. looking. (poke) for (poke). you. (poke)”.

ivar groaned. maybe it wasn’t her, maybe it was someone else.

ivar crawled away from his father and half fell to the floor, his body colliding iwth the cold wood flooring.

he crawled to the main hall and seen the entrance doors wide open.

and his mother? she was talking to that stupid girl.

she was smiling widely up at his mother, her hands clutching that ugly ball close to her side.

when her eyes landed on ivar, they instantly brightened up.

“hello, ivar!” she exclaimed giving ivar a wave. 

his mother turned towards him and smiled.”say hello, ivar”.

ivar grumbled his greeting under his breath, not meeting the two’s eyes.

(y/n) stepped closer in the hall.

“you want to play again today?”. ivar opened his mouth to decline. all he wanted to do was go back into his room and sleep in his bed.

but the look his mother gave him told him he wasn’t going to get to go back to sleep.

ivar closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to snap. he opened them slowly and gave (y/n) a very sarcastic smile and reply.

“yes, of course. seeing as yesterday was so much fun”.

this made her smile and start jumping up and down.

“i’ll be outside waiting!”. she then scampered out of the hall. his mother smiled at her, but frowned when her eyes landed on his.

ivar, i want you to be nice to her-”.

“why should i!? she’s just some stupid, annoying slave girl! you hated her when she got here!”.

“i never hated her, ivar. i didn’t like the idea of them being here, under my rule. but i got to know them and i really think you should be nice to her. and her mother”.

ivar growled and slammed his fist against the wooden floor. he angrily crawled past his mother and went out the door ignoring her words.

hours went by of passing that ball back and forth. but ivar had gotten tiered of doing that, so he had suggested to going into the woods. he honestly wanted to lose her, but she kept up with him easily seeing as he couldn’t walk away from her.

they had sat down in a small clearing. and of course, she wouldn’t be quiet.
even after the day before, she still had something to talk about. ivar was laying on his back, staring up at the sky, trying his best to ignore her, but nod and hum at the right moments.

but she didn’t seem to mind. she knew he was ignoring her, but she could have cared less. she was just so happy she found a friend. 

later, she had picked these large, blue flowers for ivar.
ivar took them, grabbed them by each end, and snapped them, ripping them to shreds.

ivar smirked at the girl, waiting for her to cry and run home, leaving him in peace. 

but that didn’t happen. she looked between him and the flowers, and simply, shrugged.

ivars eyes widened and his mouth fell open. what was wrong with this girl!? why wasn’t she crying?!.

when she looked back at ivar and seen his expression, she smiled and asked “what? what’s wrong?”.

ivar scoffed and threw his hands up.

“why aren’t you upset!? i just ripped the flowers you gave me, i taunted you about your hair, your nose, your face-EVERYTHING! and you still stay!”.

his words didn’t really seem to hurt her or bother her. she moved closer to him, which resulted in him moving away. she sighed and clicked her tongue. still silent.

when she didn’t say anything, ivar continued.

“why?, why do you stay? why did you even want to talk to me, or play? why?”.

she looked over at him and smiled a small almost sad looking smile.

“i’ve never had a friend before. you looked lonely all by yourself. i’ve seen the other children picking on you, teasing you. and i didn’t like that. i wanted to make you feel happy. i wanted to be your friend”.

ivar didn’t want to admit it, but her words made him feel warmer than usual. feel different than he was used to.

he didn’t know whether he liked it, or hated it.

he looked at her, really looked at her. taking in every feature. for a moment, he felt the urge to smile.

but instead, he frowned, scowled actually. and growled in her direction.

“i don’t need a friend. i don’t need you”.

and with those venomous words said, he crawled away from her, leaving her behind all alone.


alright! this is part one of this request, because it’s too damn long lol. let me know whatcha think! lots of love and thanks from me! <3

@anzoh

Long Distance (Chapter Four)

I cant wait to hear what you guys think of my au Bucky in this one! Hes sort of my favorite!


Thanks to everyone for rallying and getting all those notes on the last chapter, love to know you guys are reading and enjoying this! Love my readers!

I tried to add everyone who asked to the tag list, let me know if you want to be added!!!

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE!

Enjoy :)
**************

“Tony.” Pepper ran a comforting hand over his shoulder. “Tony, are you alright?”

“Just leave me alone.” Tony was alternating between scribbling nonsense into a notebook and staring out the window at nothing. “Nothings wrong, just leave me alone.”

“Did something happen with Steve?” She asked softly. “I know you’re not answering his texts anymore.” Tony flinched away from her and she sighed. “Oh Tony. I’m sorry. What happened?”

“He has a boyfriend.” Tony said bitterly. “A boyfriend. We were all ‘oh I missed hearing from you all day!’ And ‘sure wish we lived closer!’ And I asked him to meet up and–” the pencil in his hand snapped in half. “And he’s got a boyfriend.”

“Tony…” Pepper floundered for a second, trying to find the right words. “Maybe you misunderstood him? Surely he wouldnt be talking to you all this time and then–”

“I asked him to meet up for Valentine’s Day, and he said that Bucky couldn’t wait to meet me and that they had both wanted to see me for weeks.” Tony shrugged. “I didn’t sign up to hang out with a couple. I didnt want to be a third wheel. I know it sounds stupid but I thought Steve and I– I thought we were–” then he shook his head. “It’s stupid. Just texting. It’s not like we even talked on the phone or anything. I have no reason to be upset. Stupid.”

“But you’re sad, so it isn’t stupid.” Pepper ran gentle fingers through his hair. “You’re more upset about this than you were about Shawna.”

“Yeah, I guess I hoped men didn’t play games like women do.” Tony snorted.

“Hey.” Pepper tugged at his hair. “Every gender has their stupid moments, Tony. You just seem to attract them more than others.”

“Thanks for that.” Tony frowned at her, but leaned his head against her stomach anyway. “Will you stay and have dinner with me?”

“Of course.” She hugged him a little tighter. “Tony, of course.”
**********************

“He still isn’t talking to you?” Bucky put his bag down and crossed the living room, wrapping his arms around Steve’s shoulders.

“Nope.” Steve was staring dejectedly at his phone, slouched in the recliner. “I mean he texted me a few days ago, you know, telling me to lose his number but–”

“I’m sorry babe.” Bucky pressed a kiss to his temple. “We should have told him earlier. About us, I mean. You can’t blame him for being upset. Learning someone you like is in a relationship is tough on anyone. And when you first started talking, he had just been dumped, that’s why he had been having such a bad day remember? Hearing about you and I was probably just….” Bucky’s voice trailed off. “I mean, he would have been upset anyway, but more so considering how his last relationship ended.”

“I guess I assumed he would realize that you and I were together. Two guys eating dinner together, working out together… Sure I never came right out and said, but I didn’t think I had to. And it definitely didn’t occur to me that he would be upset that he’d stop talking to me.”

“You miss him.” Bucky said softly, and took the phone from Steve’s hand, moving so he could kneel between Steve’s legs. “Don’t you?”

“It’s so stupid.” Steve tugged his fingers through his hair in frustration. “It’s just texting, right? He has every right to be upset at me and I don’t really have a reason to miss him. Stupid.”

“It’s not.” Bucky ran his hands up and down Steve’s thighs comfortingly. “It’s not. I mean, I’m practically in love with the guy and I’ve only been reading over your shoulder. And if I miss hearing from him, I know it’s worse for you.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just leaned down until their foreheads touched and breathed a heavy sigh.

“Do you want me to try and call him?” Bucky offered then. “It’s been over a week, maybe he’s cooled down and would be willing to listen.”

“I don’t think—”

“Stevie.” Bucky brushed their lips together. “Honey, I want to talk to him too. I want to meet him too, remember? Just let me try.”

Without waiting for a reply, Bucky copied Tony’s number from Steve’s phone and hit ‘call’.

Keep reading

How you Interact: Youtuber Friends

Originally posted by marielgum

Markiplier: 

  • A lot of giggling.
  • I’m not even joking; most of your time spent together is laughing at stupid shit or making jokes that make you curl up in a ball because your stomach hurts.
  • You pull faces at each other from across the room or just stare at each other with blank expressions until one looks away of laughs.
  • Near to nothing gets done when the two of you are working on the same thing. Or it’s hurriedly finished at the last second.
  • The videos with you in it are nothing but sarcastic comments and giggling. It’s amazing you actually manage to finish a game and get any type of content for the channel.
  • Amy has designated corners for the two of you.
  • When she’s had enough of your antics or something really needs doing; she’ll sit you in your corner (or at your desk) and put Mark at his.
  • You both grudgingly do the work but snap comments at each other, earning yourselves a harsh look from Amy.
  • But Amy loves you none the less. She’s always excited to see you and the two of you get along so well, it scares Mark.
  • “Oi pretty boy, get your ass over here and help me!”
    “Quit your bitching I’m coming!”
  • “You have such a big head for such a tiny man.”
    “Which head are we talking about here?”
  • It’s a friendship built on humor, but the two of you are always there for each other. With tight hugs that would crush your spines, and long deep conversations that last for hours. Sometimes you’ll call him late at night just to chat because you can’t sleep. And he returns the favor by calling you early in the morning to give him ideas for his channel.


Originally posted by jacksepticeyegifs

Jacksepticeye:

  • The sheer volume of your conversations would shake the ground. And the energy radiating from the two of you would power cities for centuries.
  • When the two of you hang out, it’s a lot of silly shenanigans. Small pranks and I can assure you things will be thrown.
  • You try to copy his wild hand gestures, even try matching his intro voice. However you fail miserably. But he gives you a thumbs up for trying.
  • You end up just mimicking everything he does, and smile innocently when he figures out what you’re doing and glares down at you.
  • When he sings at random moments, you respond by singing either beautifully or make some sort of noise that resembles a banshee. Either way, the two of you make stupid little songs out of everything. Usually you both end up laughing half way through and don’t remember the lyrics afterwards.
  • Wiishu just rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the two of you. Even though she adores you; my god you are so much like Jack it’s like having a twins.
  • You Irish bastard! Get back here so I can kick your pasty ass!”
    “Come at me! I’ll take ya on with one hand tied to my crutch!”
  • You poke fun at his facial hair, threatening to shave it off if he pushes you too far. He responds with a pout and an angry bluff that he’ll turn your hair green if you so much as dare touch him
  • “You have the intelligence of a 4 year old”
    “Says the man who only recently realized why a horn is called a horn.”
  • The two of you may be loud, but everyone adores your friendship. They enjoy seeing the two of you together as it seems to make the world a little brighter. He’s a friend you can count on and talk to about anything. A friendship meant to last.

Originally posted by aj-squidkid

Ethan: 

  • Everyone thinks you’re dating. Sometimes the two of you play it off that way just to get a reaction. He’ll run up behind you and hug you tightly. You’ll yell “Blue-Berry Babe!” across the room it get his attention. 
  • Once, you actually kissed his cheek in front of Mark just because he wouldn’t shut up about how cute you two are. Not only was Mark surprised, but Ethan couldn’t help but giggle and flush a deep red. 

  • But it’s a pretty platonic, laid back friendship. 

  • The two of you playfully yell at each other out of nowhere. Something might fall off his desk and Ethan will blame you for it. 

  • You had screamed at him once because you ate your last bit of pizza and you wanted a bite of his. 

  • At random times the two of you will start dancing to whatever music is playing. Even if there’s only silence one of you might be humming and the other will dance wildly to the tune. 

  • Uncontrollable laughter at random times at stupid things. 

  • You help him with his channel. Doing funny little challenges, maybe a few multiplayer games. His fans love you. They ship you just as much as Mark, Tyler, Amy and Katherine do. 

  • Whenever you’re feeling down he’ll bring you your favorite food and cuddle with you till you feel better. And you return the favor tenfold.

  • Poking his sides as you pass him. He almost crumbles to the ground and pokes his tongue out at you. He’ll get revenge when you least expect it. Tackling you out of nowhere and tickling you relentlessly. 

  • You had missed him dearly when he moved to LA. But you had quickly joined him after getting accepted at a school/job. He helped you move and supported you through the “settling in” part of your new life.

  • You’re his support and you are his. Ethan adores you, adding you as apart of a family he’s built since he moved to LA. You take silly selfies and post them on twitter and Instagram so you have something to embarrass him with later.