i will be your hiding place

maerynn-blog  asked:

Hey there! I was wondering if you could help me with stuff that could happen in between two major events? The first major event is that the MC is removed from her environment and brought to a hidden place where people lives together and hide from the bad guys who wants to kill them all. The second major event is that the guy who saved them and is hiding them is caught and tortured. I'm at loss in between :-(

I would recommend having your MC bond with other character there and (if we don’t already know) learn why these characters need to be hidden away. You have a lot of room for character development and foreshadowing which will impact the rest of the story. With two major events, you’ll definitely want something more low-key, a calm before the storm type of plateau in the novel. Give your cast a sense of placid security before having things run amok again.

anonymous asked:

3+29 with Jooheon please 💘

send me number + an idol’s name an i’ll write a drabble for you!

“Y/N!” the whisper of your name pulls you from staring at the pages full of notes that were spread infront of you. You narrowed your eyes and looked from where it came from, spotting your boyfriend peaking at you through the shelves. “Jooheon? What are you doing here? You can’t be here…” your boyfriend offered you a smile and left his hiding place. 

“Don’t tell anyone,” his lips pressed against your temple. “And they won’t know,” he whispered, settling down next to you and handing you lunch box. “I need to make sure you eat while working. You’re no good to me without energy,” he teased, ruffling your hair. 

“That’s sweet. Thank you,” you opened the box, greeted by your favourite food. “So can I stay for a bit?” he asked, hand now resting on your back. “You can stay but your clothes must go,” you giggled, taking a sip of your coffee. “If it wasn’t for the creepy old woman that walks around here, I most certainly get naked for you,” he laughed.  

anyone else kinda terrified you’ll never be able to hold a job in the future because of your mental illness

Things I Do At Concert Pits:

• Talk to literally everyone. Like if you’re next to me we will become besties. sorry
• Point out cool cosplays and people with awesome outfits
• Scream. Not sing the lyrics loudly. I will scream when the singer seems. Dude trust me it’s hella relaxing you let out all your stress there and leave it behind.
• Dance badly

CRY

• Kinda sit down before the band plays because honey my back fucking hurts
• Shout out “You saved my life” to the people on stage. Don’t you dare get mad at me for doing it because I’m a broke bitch and will never be able to meet them one on one
• When the concert ends imma hug you randomly. idgaf if you’ve never met me before we’re huggin. c’mere :)

•  DID I MENTION CRYING

• I AM SO SORRY THAT I AM OF AVERAGE HEIGHT AND I FEEL PERSONALLY GUILTY FOR MY HEIGHT AND I WILL HELP ALL THE SURROUNDING SMOLS AS BEST AS I CAN
• If you elbow me and you don’t say sorry and you clearly hear me you’re gonna catch these hands
• Steal my spot and I will fucking cut you
• I pull off my long sleeved shirts so I’m not hiding my cuts. This is the only place I feel accepted for all of me so YOU’RE GONNA SEE EM ACCIDENTALLY
• If I end up next to someone who only knows one or two popular songs on the radio I will be mad. sorry. oh wait. im not sorry. u bitch.
• If you just stand and record the whole thing without even smiling at your chance at seeing the people on stage I WILL JUDGE YOU.

• CRYING IS LIKELY

• Shout genuine compliments to the band members like “I love you” “You’re amazing” “Your beanie looks nice”
• I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU ARE “SAVING A SEAT FOR YOUR DAUGHTER” AND THEN NOT LEAVE WHEN SHE GETS THERE
• If you lie about your dad being in the front to be closer imma punch u
• I WILL HUG YOU IF YOU ARE ALSO CRYING BECAUSE I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL

THIS IS MY ONLY CHANCE TO BE MYSELF PLEASE JUST LET ME CRY GODDAMNIT

Viral

Summary: The Ladyblog catches a private moment and Marinette is furious.

This story can also be found on FF.net and AO3.

The video was uploaded sometime after midnight early Saturday morning.  

As was usually the case after an akuma attack, Alya Cesaire had been running on a caffeine rush and adrenaline high that made sleep impossible.  The dedicated blogger would not see the back of her eyes until her copy was written, her files rendered, and her newest masterpiece was live for the entire world to see.

Or at least the majority of Paris.  She was young yet.

Fortunately for the aspiring journalist, the Ladyblog’s wide and devoted readership ensured that the hits would rack up quickly regardless of the time of posting.

What no one could have anticipated, however, was just how quickly.

It started with the local news.

Nadja Chamack’s bright-eyed good morning Paris grin punctuated the more somber news of floods, akumas, and politics with the light-hearted clip.  The segment usually reserved for heartwarming fluff pieces about eye-seeing dogs and neighborhood bake sales was instead taken over by the city’s most reliable ratings machine.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were television gold.

From there the clip hit the major news networks and was being broadcast to the whole of France. Then came the talk shows, the copycat blogs, the online articles, Buzzfeed, and more.  When the video hit the front page of Reddit there was no stopping the infection.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, less than three days after the akuma attack and the video going live, Chat Noir had become the laughing stock of Paris, the Internet, and the world.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng was absolutely furious.

Keep reading

2

“I was an only child, and I want to be a part of something really bad. When I got signed by myself, I felt very alone, if my dad was sitting here next to me, he would tell you about all the pages in my journal of me drawing me and four other faceless friends on different instruments. That’s why when I see a kid at a show that looks like they’re crying their brains out because they’re sitting in a room with thousands of other people who get it, I cry onstage. And I hide it because it’s embarrassing. But I get what that feels like to just want to find your place. And this is my place.”

Downstream - ~1k, post 12.23 / pre s13, angst

The ocean is a flat plane of glass, and the boat doesn’t cause a single ripple as it glides along the surface. Dean has no idea how they managed to drift out so far, but somehow they’ve completely lost sight of the shoreline. The only indication of the horizon is the thinnest, faintest line; a stray hair caught in a watercolour canvas.

It’s light out, the air around him a diffusion of pink and gold and reflected back in the water’s mirror surface, but he can’t find the sun. Perhaps it’s nearing dawn.

Dean’s leaning back against the bow, hands behind his head. The gunwales are kind of digging into his shoulders, but he’s smiling.

His companion is silent and placid where he sits near the stern. The light is catching the tips of his hair, setting off the dark with glints of gold. Clasped hands hang between splayed knees.

Dean inhales thick, salt air and lets his eyes drift closed. “This was a good idea. We needed a vacation.”

“You deserve it.”

Dean hums, contented. “You too. Hell, we’ve all been through the ringer lately.”

Cas nods. “I suppose we have.”

Their voices float easily through the air, but in the space all around them it’s perfectly quiet, save the occasional soft, gentle slap of water against the boat.

“Seriously, we shoulda done this years ago.”

“When?” Cas asks, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “After the apocalypse, but before the leviathan? Maybe between the Mark of Cain and Amara?”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re kind of a downer, Cas?” Dean replies peaceably.

“Once or twice.”

Another long and companionable silence stretches out between them. They’ve been out here a while now and the sun probably should’ve risen, but it’s hardly a concern: the glow of light around them is warm enough. In fact, Dean could probably afford to take off his jacket, were he not far too comfortable to move.

“Dean. How long do you plan to stay out here?”

Dean cracks one eye. “What, you got somewhere to be?”

Cas’ answering smile is fond, and only slightly tinged with sadness. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.” Dean drops his eyelid.

“It’s just, there are things you need to do.”

Both Dean’s eyes open now, and he leans all the way up to sit on the hard, wooden seat. The boat rocks and sways. “Yeah, Cas, there’s always something. But you are cutting into our hard-earned relaxation time, man. You keep this up, you can kiss that second date goodbye.”

“This is a date?”

Dean gives him a look. “You take a lot of platonic pre-dawn rowboat rides?”

“I suppose not,” Cas says, and he casts his eyes out to the water. “I’m just a little surprised.”

“But not disappointed.”

There’s a faint blush dusting Cas’ cheeks. Maybe it’s just the light. “No.”

“Because you love me.” Cas’ eyebrows rocket up to his hairline, and Dean shrugs defensively. “Hey, you said it, not me.”

“Well, that’s certainly true.”

Dean’s gotta give him that one. “Touché.”

Cas is looking at him patiently, waiting.

Feeling rather like a third-grader forced to answer a question he wasn’t listening to in the first place, Dean casts his eyes down, suddenly intensely interested in the rough woodgrain below his feet. The fact that the boat has no oars is a mild curiosity.

“I dunno,” Dean shrugs. “Probably shoulda said it then. Guess I just figured you knew.”

“Because you’re always so open and honest with your feelings.”

That’s two points to Cas.

Dean plays for time a while longer, scraping his boots through the coarse, black sand he tracked in from the beach. “Alright, well, there it is. Better late than never, right?”

This time Cas doesn’t bother trying to hide the heartache in his smile.

They sit in silence again, for minutes or maybe hours. Eventually Cas looks left to the non-existent sun. “It’s probably time to go back,” he says quietly.

Dean shakes his head. “Nah. Little longer.”

“You have responsibilities, Dean.”

Dean scoffs. “What, you mean Rosemary’s baby?”

“He didn’t ask to be what he is.”

“He’s the literal antichrist, Cas.”

Whatever he is,” Cas says firmly, “good or evil, he needs someone. He needs guidance.”

“He needs a bullet in the neck.”

Cas shakes his head. “You don’t mean that. He’s an innocent, Dean. And he needs you and Sam, now that I can’t be there for him anymore.”

Something flickers in Dean’s chest, like a moth beating against his heart. He frowns, confused, and finds Cas’ eyes.

The intent expression on Cas’ face gradually shifts to one of resignation. He sighs softly. “You forgot again, didn’t you?”

Dean jolts awake to a blaring car horn.

Sam is driving, the hideous sodium streetlights casting harsh lines of shadow across his face when he turns to the passenger seat. “You were talking again.”

Dean doesn’t answer as he reacquaints himself with the deep, aching chasm in his chest.

Sam swallows visibly, shadows of raindrops on the windshield like pockmarks on his skin. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Dean grits his teeth. “Yeah, Sam. There were these clowns. Like thirty of ‘em, and they all kept piling out of this Volkswagon.” The lie slides easy off his tongue.

Sam throws up a hand in surrender. “Okay.”

Anger is easier. Anger is always easier.

Dean closes his eyes tight and tries to chase the soft, pink-gold light of the ocean. He inhales Baby’s familiar leather scent, desperate for a whiff of salt air.

He tries to forget.

bts scenario: tummy kisses

this is so so cute i love tummy kisses! i hope you all enjoy! xx

requests: open

commissions/donations 

++++

jin: jin’s firm hands held you into place as he placed kisses along the skin of your stomach. your eyes crinkled as you tried to hold in your giggles at the feeling of his lips pressing against your skin. “jinnnn,” you whined as he blew onto the skin of your stomach. jin merely laughed as he continued his ministrations as the sunlight shone through the window next to your bed. this was it, this was your happy place. 

Originally posted by bwiseoks

yoongi: “min yoonggiiii,” you teased as you curled in closer to his chest to try and get some warmth. “shush woman i’m trying to sleep,” he grumbled as he closed his eyes again. “yoongggiiii,” you pleaded again as nudged him. “aish! i’m trying to sleep,” he said trying to hold in his smile. suddenly he leaned down and kissed your lips, slowly trailing down to your tummy where he blew a raspberry. you squealed and begged him to stop, “you asked for it!” he continued giving you kisses until you both fell asleep. 

Originally posted by iechaan

hoseok: “i’m never,” you panted, “doing that again,” hoseok laughed beside you as you both were lying down on the plush carpet of your living room. “i can’t believe you made me run 5 miles with you,” you sat up slowly and stripped off your shirt, to which hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. you rolled your eyes before lying back down. suddenly, hoseok was on top of you, “get off it’s hot!” you shouted but instead he began to attack you with kisses. by the time he reached your stomach you were out of breath again from laughing. “i love you hobi,” you whispered as the kisses slowed. he placed one last kiss on your tummy, “i love you too.”

Originally posted by parkjiminer

namjoon: you and namjoon had been slowly pushing against each other’s bodies, trying to get friction. namjoon pulled back and began to take off your clothes, trailing kisses down your body as he did so. once he reached the skin of your stomach, you let out a soft giggle. “is my baby ticklish?” he smirked and you frantically shook your head, knowing what was coming. “i think they areeee,” namjoon teased before kissing all over your stomach and making you break out into a fit of giggles. “joonie!” god you loved that man. 

Originally posted by parkjiminer

jimin: you and jimin had been taking a shower when he pulled you close to his body and whispered, “you’re so gorgeous baby,” you blushed and tried to cover your face, but he just pulled your hands away. “don’t hide yourself you’re beautiful,” he emphasized his words by trailing kisses along your neck and slowly going lower and lower. once he reached the soft flesh of your stomach he looked up at you and placed many kisses along the expanse of skin. “so so gorgeous.”

Originally posted by smol-jims

taehyung: taehyung’s head was buried in the soft skin of your stomach as he let out a sigh, “you’re so comfy, baby,” he said as he nuzzled closer to you. you giggled and ran your fingers through his soft fluffy hair. taehyung’s head turned slightly to the side as he began to kiss the skin he had been lying on, “tae?” you questioned him. “shhh just let me love you,” he continued to softly kiss your skin and you couldn’t stop the smile that came to your lips.

Originally posted by kimtaehyung-gifs

jungkook: “jungkook can you grab the eggs?” you asked him as you were reading the directions for making the pancakes. you heard a smash behind you and you turned around to see 3 eggs splattered all over the floor. “jeon jungkook!” you shouted as you huffed angrily. “aw come on babe don’t be mad it was an accident,” jungkook sensed your irritation and decided he needed to make you laugh. you were suddenly attacked with kisses which made you giggle immediately, the soft kisses trailed all the way down to your stomach making you smirk. “gonna make up for it jungkook?” “you know it,” he said before placing another kiss above your waistband. 

Originally posted by jeonggukk

“I was an only child, and I want to be a part of something really bad. When I got signed by myself, I felt very alone. If my dad was sitting here next to me, he would tell you about all the pages in my journal of me drawing me and four other faceless friends on different instruments. That’s why when I see a kid at a show that looks like they’re crying their brains out because they’re sitting in a room with thousands of other people who get it, I cry onstage. And I hide it because it’s embarrassing. But I get what that feels like to just want to find your place. And this is my place. This is my place.”

the spy au that @philosophium ordered !!


Andrew slips through a slit in the crowd, brushing through the sleek trains of expensive gowns, rich wool suits jackets catching on his own. He’s on his second flute of champagne, and the tartness keeps him focused. His attention is on the flavour and the rim of the glass and the warp of faces through it. His earpiece crackles and whispers.

He can see his mark on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by servers and liars and pretty things. One of them is all three, Andrew can tell: a waiter’s vest, a seam of over-applied foundation, and bright blue eyes.

He’s distracting, flighty, a rubber band pulled all the way back. He looks like the memory of a case file, and a name occurs to Andrew one second before Kevin hisses it into his ear.

“It’s fuckin’ Charlie Pilot. Don’t engage, Minyard, we’re not here for him.”

Andrew doesn’t make any effort to reply, just takes another pull of champagne. He’s not really watching the troupes of entertainers or the clockwork security or the velvet and silk blooming under bowing chandeliers. He’s not even watching the man he’s either going to rob or kill, who’s laughing and weedy, red in the face from the alcohol. He’s stuck on Pilot –  next to his target, holding a heavily stocked tray of appetizers, his expression pleasant and empty.

He’ll be an irritant to what should be a straightforward plan, if he keeps hovering. Andrew takes a loaded step forward and the voice in his ear complains.

“Don’t even think about moving in until Pilot leaves. He’s probably doing reconnaissance for Matt. I bet he doesn’t even know about the file.”

Andrew watches Pilot’s face tick, the way he blinks like he’s on a timer, the way he’s worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth.

“I bet he does,” Andrew murmurs, and he drains the last of the champagne. He plucks his tie pin away from the fabric and drops it in the empty glass, leaving it on a passing tray.

“What— what the fuck Minyard, we’ve lost visuals. Do you hear me? Andrew? Andrew?”

Andrew weaves through the rest of the golden crowd, ignoring the buzz of Kevin’s reprimands in his ear. He finds a new spot on the outskirts of the crowd where Pilot has installed himself.

“Do you know how fucking expensive those cameras are? You’re such a piece of shit operative,” Kevin says. “When you inevitably come back without the intelligence and without our equipment, it’s costing us to keep you around, do you realize that?”

Andrew’s more focused on the way Pilot’s shoulders are turning to face him, the slim line of his tailored pants, that eyelash-thick smudge of un-blended make up.

“Shrimp?” Pilot offers, swaying the tray in his direction.

“No,” Andrew says, but he stays uncomfortably near, feeling along the edges of his boundaries without finding any seams. Pilot’s composure is still and reserved as a frost-ravaged garden.

“Have a good evening then,” Pilot says graciously, turning back towards the host that Andrew should be sizing up but hasn’t even looked at. He glances at him for a sliver of a moment, finds himself uninterested, and looks back at Pilot.

Andrew catches him suddenly by the arm, but relaxes his grip just as quickly, caught off guard by his own impulsivity. His own disguise is just an invitation and sun bleached hair; he isn’t playing a character like Pilot is. He’s neutral for a living, but Pilot is a new weight on his scale, unbalancing him so that he can’t quite settle at zero.

When their eyes meet, the polite, curious waiter snips out of existence. Charlie Pilot stares at Andrew, with eyes like the bluest part of a fire.

“There’s a conflict of interest,” he tells Andrew calmly. “And your interest will lose.”

“I’m not interested in anything,” Andrew says broadly.

“Hm,” Pilot says, unconvinced. “You’re lying.”

“I don’t lie,” Andrew says. He’s always saying it; it’s a novelty that employers enjoy and enemies challenge, amused.

Pilot raises his jaw, mouth twitching. “No, you wouldn’t, would you.” His eyes flicker to the side of Andrew’s face, where Kevin is breathing furiously through his earpiece, then down to the grip he still has on his forearm. He lowers his tray down until the rough edge is pressed to the root of Andrew’s hand threateningly. “You’ll want to let me go, Andrew, or you’re going to end up needing a longer armband.”

Andrew feels genuine surprise squeeze his fingers around Pilot’s wrist. He hadn’t noticed the black fabric extending a whiff beyond his crisp white sleeve. He lets go, and Pilot tucks his shoulders back, satisfied. His hair is too dark to match his freckles, Andrew notes quietly. It is, perhaps, what the make up was meant to cover up.

“You are not going to win, Charlie,” Andrew says. “We’re the more capable team.”

Pilot smiles indulgently. “‘Charlie’,” he repeats, mouth curling around the name. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been Charlie Pilot.” He jostles his tray from one hand to another, and loosens his collar with his freed hand. “And I don’t think you understand how much farther ahead we are than you. If you’re looking for information, we already have it. If you’re trying to find the connections this place has to the Yakuza, we’re the ones undoing them.”

“Who’s we? I don’t remember seeing anything about loyalty in your case file. You’re just a runner.”

Pilot looks briefly bothered by this, and he juts his chin again. “I’m loyal to whoever’s doing the work that needs to be done.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

He looks down, at Andrew’s empty hands, at the hip where he’s hiding his gun. His expression is warped and sad when he looks up, like the real filling in his strange costume is finally oozing out.

“You can call me Neil,” he says, and drops the whole tray of food so that it clatters and rolls into the host’s feet. There are gasps and yelps, partygoers dodging and stooping to catch the runaway platter. Andrew looks impulsively down to track its progress, and when he looks sharply back up into the knot of activity, Neil is gone. Of course he is.

He doesn’t have time to think about where he might have disappeared to, just steps neatly into the opportunity that’s been afforded to him. He uses the distraction as a doorway directly into the offices behind the coddled host.

Kevin is asking repeatedly for updates, and Andrew fishes the earpiece out and tucks it into his breast pocket. He likes to be alone for this part, when the most important door closes behind him and everything makes as much sense as a ticking clock.

He keeps thinking of Neil’s reaction to ‘runner’, of the vulnerability trussed up in his persona. He finds himself sick to his stomach wanting to know what his real hair colour is.

He tries every door in the polished row of them, finding all of them locked. He picks the lock on the door farthest from the burble of the ballroom behind him, and cracks into what looks like a room built for business arrangements and drinking. There’s a snifter next to a half dozen tumblers on a cart along the wall, and extensive cabinets under the desk.

He feels his way along the underside of the desk, and opens each drawer, idealistically left unlocked and unprotected. He finds useless information and shady information and heaps of anonymous, unlabeled tapes.

He finds the safe in the floor, facing up patiently under a wingback chair and a panel of floorboard. He stoops so that he’s face to face with it, shrugs his jacket off like a dead skin onto the floor, and puts the heart of a stethoscope to the face of the safe.

He’s sweating, spread out surreptitiously on the floor, but the safe is flimsy. It cracks in under an hour, the party wilting two rooms over, pressure taking him by the hair. Andrew flicks the door open impatiently, unwinding the stethoscope from around his neck.

It’s filled top to bottom with paper, and he reaches for the first file, carding his fingers through the spill of sheets.

Got you, it says. Over and over again, in unassuming little typescript. And on the next page, got you.

Andrew’s fingers flex. The next file is the same, and the next. A million taunting, twirling repetitions: got you. Got this. Got here first.

The safe was already cracked. The list of names was already stolen. Neil’s face winks and swarms when he closes his eyes, furious. If you’re looking for information, we already have it.

He roots around for the bud in his pocket and pops it back into his ear. He leans back, splayed away from the spill from the safe, the stacks of failure. He enunciates clearly into the microphone sewn into his collar.

“We have to find Neil.”

Keep reading

Things Harry Styles Does In Bed (smut/ish)
  1. “Wakes you up with neck kisses while he murmurs “Wake up baby, c’mon baby, there you go” as his hands travel straight to your breasts and squeezes gently till you’re more awake
  2. Drags his fingers gently over your whole body until you’re completely covered in goose bumps 
  3. Absolutely loves how shy you get when his mouth gets filthy when you’re least expecting it. “Put the book down love, I wanna eat that sweet pussy for breakfast”. You’d go red. And he’d love it. 
  4. Will lie on his side next to you while you’re on your stomach watching Netflix, and his hands will randomly start massaging your thighs. “Harry” you’d warn. “Mmm” is all he’d mumble with a small smile. “I need to get through one episode of FRIENDS with out us having sex before the episode’s up, it’s 20 minutes” you would tell him. “That’s too long darling” he’d whine. “Think of how many times I could make you scream with 20 minutes” 
  5. “With me you always come twice, at least twice” 
  6. Was so gentle and loving the first time you slept together. Constantly asked if you were okay. Refused to fuck you until you came. 
  7. Was so completely on board with your praise kink. “Baby, you’re always so good for me. My good girl” 
  8. Spanks you whenever you do something he doesn’t like. Like the one time you smiled and laughed at that idiot’s joke at your office party, because the idiot was your boss. “Count them for me baby, 6 more left” he’d say soothing the sting before his hand would come down again.
  9. Would demand that you open your legs for him after he’s teased you all day long, knowing how wet you’d be for him. 
  10. “This? It belongs to me” he’d growl, stroking up and down your heat before plunging his fingers into you. 
  11. So. Much. Over-stimulation.
  12. Speaking of over stimulation, would just drag you back to your place when you’d move away, far too sensitive. You’d be whimpering and begging him to stop, but he’d keep on going. 
  13. “Now baby, since you were naughty and didn’t ask permission to come, you get two options. Shall I edge you till you beg me to let you come or make you come until you’re begging me to stop?”
  14. Pins your hands over your head when you’ve misbehaved, but he doesn’t have it in him to spank you or to deny you an orgasm. He knows how much you love to touch him during sex. 
  15.  “Don’t you dare hide your face, I wanna see you when you come” 
  16. Wouldn’t let you out of bed post sex. “Oh no, you’re staying right here baby” he’d growl playfully. “Harry” you’d giggle “I need to do things today”. “Yes. you need to do me, over and over again” 
  17. Cuddles because he was rough with you the night before. 
  18. He’s big on aftercare, let’s be serious, he’s a sweetheart. 
  19. Would kiss every inch of your body while you came down from however many orgasms he’d fucked into you that night. 
  20. “God, you ride me so good. So good f’me” he’d groan whenever you were on top
  21. Made you come 6 times in one night. The 6th was the best. He’d whipped out a curvy toy, astounding you, pushed the toy into your overly sensitive core and sucked on your clit until you were screaming. And that, was how you experienced your first ever squirt. 
  22. Worshiped you on the occasions where you surprised him in lingerie. “Get over here, your boyfriend’s got some work to do” 
  23. Would always be trying new positions with you. 
  24. The one time you faked an orgasm because you were both tipsy and you knew it wasn’t gonna happen, he got so upset until you told him he was the best you’d ever had. He made up for it. All. Damn. Night. 
  25. “Did I ever tell you I really, really like having sex with you?” 
Heal My Wounds

Peter has a massive crush on the reader but can’t help but wonder why she always covers her hands with gloves. 

author’s note: heyo just small hint the reader has a metal arm yeet this is like the fifth time i’m rewriting this so here goes nothing (i still don’t know how i feel about this it’s quite bad tbh) shout out to @toms-spidey for helping me out with this big time and literally being the only reason i’m posting this ily girly.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: kinda angsty and fluffy at the same time….?

Peter had been crushing on you for god knows how long. You were in a few of his classes and every once in a while he would look over at you a smile placed on his lips as you tugged lose strands of hair that would occasionally fall in front of your face back behind your ear.

He couldn’t help but notice one thing, you always had gloves on. No matter what the weather was, hot or cold you always had the same brown fabric covering your hands.

Flash had teased you about it multiple times and it pissed Peter off. No one deserved Flash’s unnecessary comments least of all you, the girl who barely spoke, not even when spoken to.

On multiple occasions Peter had tried to talk to you but you always managed to slip right past him acting as if you had no idea he wanted to talk, although it was fairly obvious.

And now as he sat in his usual seat his head resting in the palm of his hand he couldn’t help but admire you as you squinted your eyes slightly, concentrating on the papers sprawled out in front of you, your tongue poking out of the corners of your pink lips.

Ned nudged Peter bringing him out of his daze as he diverted his attention back to his best friend who was now giving him a judge mental look as his eyes wandered to who Peter had been staring at.

“Just go talk to her, your not so subtle staring is probably starting to freak her out” Ned sighed his elbow resting on the table in front of him, Peter scoffed his gaze finally meeting Ned’s.

“Don’t you think i’ve tried!? Every time i get as much as this close to her” Peter says squeezing his index finger and thumb together so they were almost touching “she runs off”.

“So don’t let her” Ned states matter of factly patting Peter on the back as he ushered him towards you, completely ignoring the quite protests leaving Peter’s mouth as they neared you with every step.


“Hey Y/N” a voice brings you out of your thoughts as you spit the pen out that you had previously tugged between the corners of your mouth, a awkward smile reaching the corners of your lips as you mumbled a quite ‘yeah’.

“Peter here wants to talk to you about something” Ned smiled, forcefully pushing Peter onto the stool next to you before he walked off a proud smile on his lips.

“What did you want to tell me?” you asked breaking the awkward silence that had settled between the two of you as soon as Ned left. “I um-well just wanted to uh see if you may-maybe wanted to I don’t know hang out sometime or something like that” Peter stammered a blush rising on his cheeks as he looked down at his lap slamming his eyes shut inwardly cringing at how awkward he was.

You were baffled, you couldn’t believe Peter Parker had just asked you to hang out, you a girl who wore gloves to hide what you hoped no one would discover. So as you were about to reject the offer, you looked back up at him and his hopeful beautiful brown eyes stared back into yours and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Sure, Peter I would love too” you smiled going to place your arm on his shoulder but quickly pulled back realizing he would definitely feel what was not a flesh arm.

His wide eyes once again met yours and he looked like he was about to burst from happiness and you couldn’t help but giggle as he fumbled to get back up from the seat next you trying his best to act casual as he reached into his pocket so he could hand you his phone. 

But you reacted quickly telling him it was better if you called him knowing well enough you would have to take your gloves off in order for you to be able to type your phone number into the small phone he had placed in the palm of his hand.

“How about we just hang out after school, study date?” you asked hoping he would put the phone back into his pocket, and thankfully he did sending you a warm smile as he nodded walking back to his seat where he plopped down next to Ned.


Finally the school bell rung signaling that school was over and you happily stuffed all your stuff into your backpack before you slung it over your shoulder following the crowds of students that were exiting the classroom.

You were ready to get home and sit down on your couch with your favorite ice cream whilst Friends played in the background, but you then remembered your study date with Peter groaning at the fact you wouldn’t be getting these damn gloves off anytime soon.

You made your way toward Peter’s locker where you saw him clumsily stuffing his books into it—your heart almost melting at the sight, you quickly made your way towards him picking up the books that had fallen out of his tight grasp.

“Thank you” he awkwardly laughed scratching the back of his neck as he finally managed to slam his locker shut, the noise emanating off of the now empty school hallways. “It’s no problem, so your place or mine?” you asked as you walked side by side thankful that your left arm was brushing against his and not your right one.

“We can go to mine since Aunt May’s not going to be home anytime soon” you nodded and sent him a warm smile, you lived alone so a parent coming home early and yelling at you for being alone with a boy really wasn’t a problem, but Peter didn’t need to know that.


As soon as you had arrived at Peter’s small apartment he shared with his aunt, you followed him into his room where he nervously asked you to sit down on his bed and wait whilst he went and got you two some snacks.

You happily obliged sitting down on the bottom bunk your backpack resting in your lap as you pulled some of your books out of it and placed them on the nightstand that was next to you.

You heard clattering coming from the kitchen and took this as your chance to finally let your left hand breath for the first time that day. You sighed as you pulled the brown glove of your flesh hand, your palms were extremely sweaty and you made sure you could still hear Peter in the kitchen before you removed the glove of your right one.

A heavy sigh yet again left your mouth as you rubbed your hands together, your cold metal hand met your flesh one sending shivers down your spine at the unsuspected coldness.

Zoning out for a bit you completely missed when Peter stepped into the doorframe and quickly backed away when he saw why you always wore those same brown gloves.

Peter’s POV

Peter was struggling to make his way up the stairs as he tried to keep every single thing he was carrying still, the glasses he had filled with water were spilling everywhere at his clumsy excuse of walking and he couldn’t help but let out a satisfied groan when he reached the top of the stairs.

He smiled adjusting himself a bit before he walked into his room. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what rested beneath the surface of your glove.

You hadn’t heard or seen him walk into the room so he quickly and quietly sprinted back down the stairs the water now completely abandoning the two glasses that rested on the top of his palm.

He laid every single snack he had carried up the stairs back onto the counter top as he reached for his phone that was placed in the back of his pocket quickly unlocking and dialing Tony’s number.

Tony picked up on the fourth ring and immediately starting scolding Peter for calling him since he told him he could only do that if it was an absolute emergency.

“This is an emergency Tony!” Peter panicked running his fingers through his brown locks as he started pacing around the kitchen making sure you hadn’t come down the stairs.

“You remember the airport fight right!?” Peter asked his grip on the phone becoming tighter with every word he spoke “yeah I don’t think I’m going to forget that anytime soon kid” Tony sighed “And you remember that dude with the metal arm right!?” 

“What’s your point here Peter?” Tony asked his brows pulling in as Peter continued speaking “well I’m with this girl right now her names Y/N, and I-I went down to get us some snacks since we were going to study but then I came back up and she-she had taken her gloves off… She has these gloves that she always wears—anyways! she has a metal arm Tony, a metal arm! And it’s exactly like Bucky’s”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized he had begun to raise his voice significantly during the last part of his sentence and he quickly looked around making sure you were nowhere insight.

“Do you think you could find a way to bring her to the tower?” Tony questioned and Peter nodded before realizing Tony couldn’t see him and he frantically mumbled a yes before hanging up the phone and climbing back up the stairs into his room.

“Hey I hope you don’t mind but-” Peter stopped abruptly realizing you were nowhere insight “Y/N?” he asked slowly walking into his room were he saw the previously closed window was now wide open and all of your stuff was gone

“Shit” he cursed knowing you had obviously heard his conversation with Tony and climbed out the window. What was he going to do now?

Next Part

If you want to be tagged in this embarrassment that I call a fic hmu in my ask and i’ll gladly add you to it <3 (this is so shitty i could cry)

She’s Just Not That Into You » Part IV (A Harry Styles Miniseries)

Miss the previous parts? Part One » Part Two » Part Three

Check out the inspiration behind Harry’s home here!

As always, this miniseries is dedicated to @stylesunchained. Please don’t push me into a wall or into traffic, B! Remember that I love you! Another big thank you to my expert on all-things London (and ladders), @cuddlemusclestyles.  

Let me know what you think! Happy reading. 

Originally posted by beautifulmess555

 “A pink room, huh?” Nick swirls the ice in his glass, smiling with his eyebrows raised.

“She had the same reaction,” Harry smirks, taking the last sip of his tequila. “But after she thought about it, she liked the idea. Eyes got all bright ‘n shit,” he laughs. “A pink guest room.“

“Well, if it’s what ye’ want,” the radio host clinks the rim of his glass against Harry’s. “Then ‘m ‘appy for ye’. Might ‘ave to claim it as me own when I sleep over.”

“Who says you’re invited?”

Keep reading

IM MEGA SHOOKETH LIKE? I DONT WANNA BE THAT THEATRE KID™ (which is kind of rhetorical bc i dont even do theatre) BUT MICHAEL IN THE BATHROOM IS SUCH? A FANTASTIC SONG? THE COMPOSURE OF PIANO AND THE WAY IT RISES AND FALLS LIKE AN ACTUAL PANIC ATTACK (finally feeling like you’re ready to go back out and getting another wave of emotion and crying harder) AND THE PERFORMANCE OF GEORGE SALAZAR IS PHENOMENAL? THE EMOTION IN HIS VOICE AND THE WAY HE PORTRAYS HIS CHARACTER IS JUST. OOOOOOOOOOOOO DAMN

married part 7- h.s imagine

you can read the previous part here

you can find all my writing here

“This hotel really is beautiful. I can see why Niall and Emma wanted to have their wedding here.” You thought out loud as you looked around the hotel lobby.

Harry nodded his head as he stared down at his lap, his foot tapping anxiously. You sighed. You had a million and one thoughts going through your mind. You didn’t know how to fit everything you wanted to say in one sentence. So you started with the obvious thing you had to say.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry took his gaze off his fighting to fingers to look at you as you sat down on the spot next to him. He watched as you played with the hem of your dress. “When you told me you were marrying Kimberly…I cried so hard I thought I was going to run out of tears. When your wedding day finally came up, I remember crying so hard seeing you in your tux ready to marry someone who wasn’t me. But. I think what hurt the most was when you found out about my feelings for you last year…you gave up on us.”

Harry bit down on his bottom lip softly, shame written clearly on his forehead. You glanced at him before you sighed, “You were a married man, Harry. Never would I ever do something that could potentially hurt your marriage. Never would I ever ruin your chance of happiness. Yes. I was in love with you. But I would’ve gotten over it. We could’ve still been friends. You didn’t have to shut me out for a year. You didn’t have to break our birthday tradition.”

Harry closed his eyes momentarily. Harry doesn’t have a lot of regrets in his life, for he thinks that everything happens for a reason, whether it was good or not. However, missing your birthday the way that he did will always be his biggest regret.

“I think all the hurt I’ve felt finally caught up to me. That’s why I said what I did last night.” You stared into Harry’s green eyes before you softly grabbed his hand. “I told you that I was in love with Lucas.” Harry grimaced as he had to hear you say you loved another man for the second time within 24 hours. “But I’m not.” You finished.

Harry’s eyes went wide. He held your hand tighter. “What?” Harry asked. You looked down at your hands holding each other as you rubbed small circles on Harry’s hand with your thumb. “I told you I was in love with Lucas.” You looked up at Harry. “When really I’m in love with you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being in love with you.”

Harry was quick to close the gap between the two of you. He placed both his hands on the sides of your cheeks as he kissed you. You sighed against Harry’s lips as you kissed him back. Harry pulled away and leant his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Harry whispered. You shrugged your shoulders as you placed one of your hands on top of his. “We both are.”

Emma looked at the entrance. She let out a squeal as she placed her hands on her cheeks. Niall looked at her, a piece of cake stuffed in his mouth, “What?” Emma nodded her head towards the door. Niall looked over and instantly his eyes went wide.

You and Harry walked over to the newly wed couple with your hands interlocked together. Harry leaned in and gave Niall a “bro hug” with his hand still holding yours. “Congratulations you guys! I just-”

“Emma. We’re in an alternative universe. It’s just us. We need to somehow gain control of these foreign creatures and declare land on this planet.” Niall said as he grabbed his wife.

Emma flicked Niall’s head before she turned to you and Harry. “What’s going on, here?” she smirked as she crossed her arms together.

Harry looked down at your hands before he looked back at you. “Just two best friends finding their way back, that’s all.”

You glanced at your hands and smiled. Emma let out a squeal as she pulled you into a hug. Niall let out a puff of air and smiled. He pulled Harry in for another hug and whispered in his ear, “It’s about damn time.”

Harry rolled his eyes playfully before he pulled you back to him. “I know it’s your wedding and all but me and Y/N have a lot to catch up on.” Emma nodded her head as she placed her hand on Niall’s chest. “We completed understand.”

Niall leaned into you and motioned you to come closer. “Make sure you use a condom.” Your eyes went wide before you flicked Niall’s ear. “Niall!” Niall raised his hands up in defense, “You guys have been in love with each other for years! Something’s bound to happen!”

You buried your head into Harry’s shoulder while he chuckled. With one last goodbye and congratulations, the two of you were off.

You had your arms crossed as you were walking around Harry’s still bare apartment. “So you decided to move?” You called out as you stopped in front of the bookcase he had at the side of the room. “Sort of. Kimberly wanted the apartment” Harry said sheepishly from the kitchen. You pursed your lips together as you looked at all the knickknacks Harry had on his bookshelf. You let out a chuckle as your eyes bounced to each item: a tiny statue of a frog, a ring Harry used to always wear when you guys were younger but outgrew (it broke his heart when he couldn’t even wear it on his pinky finger), his name tag from when he used to work at the bakery back home, his polaroid camera.

Your eyes landed on the framed picture of the two of you. You could feel your heart rate quicken. Even though you guys haven’t talked to each other in a year and even though he still had a lot to unpack; Harry still put up a framed picture of the two of you. You looked towards the kitchen and smiled. You shook your head as you stared off into the ground while chuckling.

“Y/N! Harry’s here!” Your mother shouted from the bottom of the stairs. You stared at yourself in the mirror and sighed. You smiled and quickly frowned when you saw your braces. You sighed as you grabbed your backpack and headed downstairs. Harry was sitting at the breakfast table in the new uniform you guys were required to wear in high school.

Your mom placed a glass of orange juice in front of Harry and took her seat. “I can’t believe you guys are in high school already.” You placed your chin in your hand and mumbled, “I can’t believe I’m starting my first year of high school in braces.”

A 15 year old Harry with hair that basically looked like a bird’s nest on top of his head swallowed his food. He patted your shoulders. “I keep telling you that you look fine, Y/N.” Your mom nodded her head as she began to leave the room, “He’s right, sweetie. Everyone gets braces at your age.”

You picked up your fork and began picking at your eggs. “Harry doesn’t have braces.” Harry let out a chuckle as he took a sip of his juice. Your mom came back with a camera and stood in front of you two on the other side of the table. “Come on, before you guys are late. We need to take a picture of your first day of high school!”

Harry leaned in closer to you and smiled. You looked at the camera and smiled a closed lip smile. The flash off and Harry scowled at you. “Love, that’s not a genuine smile.”

You let out a puff of air while you leaned back into your chair. “I don’t want to smile with my braces, H.”

Harry shook his head as he turned his body to face you properly. “Y/N, I think you look beautiful with your braces and I know for a fact that you’ll look beautiful once they come off. Don’t let them hide away that gorgeous smile I love so much.”

Your cheeks were quick to blush. You turned to your mom and let out a mumbled, “Fine. Let’s take another one.”

Your mom smiled as she got the camera ready once more. You smiled, braces in full show. Harry placed his arm around you as he smiled as well.

Through your entire friendship with Harry, he made sure you never questioned your beauty or worth. He was the first boy to ever tell you that you were beautiful. Maybe that’s why you fell for Harry as hard and as fast as you did. Harry was genuine and he was forgiving. He made sure everyone felt welcomed and he made sure everyone knew how much they meant to him. You fell in love with Harry for just the kindness he had in his heart.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted as Harry finally emerged from the kitchen. In his hands was a small muffin with a lit candle on top of it. He was quietly humming “Happy Birthday” as he walked closer to you.

You placed your hand on your mouth as your eyes brimmed with tears. Once the song was over Harry whispered, “To make up for the tradition I broke.” You smiled before you blew out the candle. Harry placed the muffin down on one of the shelves on the bookcase before he pulled you into your second kiss that night.

You and Harry were sitting down on his bed with your backs against the headboard. You had your head resting on his shoulder as Harry had his arm around you, tracing small circles on your shoulder. It was silent for a long time but you guys didn’t mind. What you guys needed right now was each other.

Suddenly Harry’s phone dinged, telling him he got a text message. He grabbed his phone from the night stand and sighed as he read the text. Your eyes glanced over to the screen.

From Kimberly: Don’t forget out meeting tomorrow.

Harry locked his phone before he placed it back onto the night stand. You bit your bottom lip, mentally debating whether or not this was a sensitive topic for Harry. “How did you guys get to the decision to get a divorce?”

Harry sighed as he stared at the wall in front of him.

Harry kicked a rock as he was walking along the sidewalk. He had his hands in his coat pockets as he was looking at the ground. Kimberly kicked him out once again. She claimed that she “needed space from him.”

Ever since Harry found out about your true feelings for him, his relationship with Kimberly started to change. He feels ashamed and disgusted with himself but he couldn’t help it. After knowing how you felt about him, he couldn’t help but question his marriage. That’s when the arguments started happening. Kimberly would yell and accuse Harry of not fully being in the marriage. Kimberly even went as far as accusing him of cheating.

Harry would never cheat on a woman. Ever.

His mother and Gemma always taught him the importance of a woman’s worth. He would never do something so stupid in his life.

But did he cheat? Did he cheat emotionally?

Was he cheating when he couldn’t push his feelings for you aside? Was it cheating when you crept into his mind when he was looking at Kimberly? Was it cheating when Harry would creep on your social medias, wondering if you were taking care of yourself? Was it cheating when the only concern Harry had was whether or not you moved on?

Harry sighed as he sat down on a bus bench. He was staring at every person walking by. Surely everyone was having a better night than he was right now. As he was staring off, his eyes landed on a familiar person. He let out a gasp. His heart rate started to quicken and he could feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

It was you.

You were walking on the other side of the street, a bag of takeout in your hands. Harry mentally debated whether or not he should run over and try to talk to you. It’s been three months, would you even want to talk to him?

The first thing he noticed was how long your hair has gotten. He noticed that you had your headphones in. Were you listening to the latest Coldplay song because you loved the band so much? Or were you talking to your mom, telling her about the latest news at work? The next thing he noticed was the bag of food you were holding. Was it just for you? Or were you going to share it with someone that wasn’t him?

As you walked away and your body was becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, Harry couldn’t help but let out a sniffle. His eyes started to water as he came to the realization you were out of his life. Sure he brought this upon himself but after seeing you for the first time in three months, it broke his heart.

“When I saw you that day, I realized that you were the only thing on my mind. I didn’t care that I was in a fight with Kimberly, I didn’t care that I was freezing my ass off on a bus bench. All I could see was you. That’s when I finally realized I was being fair to Kimberly. She deserves someone that would be able to love her properly and I couldn’t do that when you were on my mind.”

You turned your body so that you were sitting in front of Harry. You grabbed his hand. “Do you regret getting married?”

Harry placed his other hand on the side of your cheek. “I regret not marrying you.”

From Harry: Dinner tonight, love?

You smiled as you glanced at your phone on your desk. Your coworker, Olivia, was sitting in the chair in front of your desk. Her eyebrows perked up at you, “Alright. Spill. You’ve been smiling at your phone the entire day. Did something happen last night?”

After texting Harry a quick “yes”, you placed your phone into your desk drawer. “Actually-” But you were cut short as you saw the last person you expected to see, marching up to your desk. You quickly got up, “Kimberly?”

Kimberly walked straight up to you, nothing but venom in her eyes. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Fucking home wrecker.” before her hand collided with your cheek.


eh. i liked how i started this…not sure about how i ended it lol. let me know what you guys thought/ want to see happen next! 

you can read part 8 here

8

I was an only child, and I want to be a part of something really bad. When I got signed by myself, I felt very alone, if my dad was sitting here next to me, he would tell you about all the pages in my journal of me drawing me and four other faceless friends on different instruments. That’s why when I see a kid at a show that looks like they’re crying their brains out because they’re sitting in a room with thousands of other people who get it, I cry onstage. And I hide it because it’s embarrassing. But I get what that feels like to just want to find your place. And this is my p l a c e.

Flirt With Me

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader

Requested: No

A/N: Okay, but doesn’t love Peter? This is my first Marvel fanfic and I am sure that there is more to come! Thanks so much for waiting and, as always, I hope you enjoy!

***** 

You felt a rush of relief as the bell rang, fleeing from the classroom in a hurry, hoping to lose Flash Thompson, who was hot on your heels, in the crowd. 

You run through the halls of the school, desperately trying to find your best friend Peter Parker. You spot the colour of his favourite sweatshirt out of the corner of your eye and skid to a halt in front of the glass library doors. You peered inside and sure enough, Peter was sitting alone at one of the desks, studying for an upcoming test. 

You look back and forth feeling frantic, your hair whipping wildly as you checked to see if Flash was near. He was nowhere in sight. You were safe, for the time being. 

You hurriedly push open the heavy doors of the library, the hinges squeaking rather loudly. The librarian looked up from her desk and glared at you. You smiled apologetically before hurrying over to Peter and slipping into the seat next to him. 

“Oh, hi (Y/N)-” 

“Peter.” you gasp, trying to catch your breath from all the running. He tilts his head as he looks at you, confused. 

“Are you alright? Why are you panting? Oh no, do we have to run a mile today in PE? Dang it.” 

“No no, it’s not that. It’s Thompson,” you answer, shaking your head. Peter’s eyes flare at the mention of the name but the action remains unnoticed by you.

 “What did the idiot do this time?” he asks, sighing and balling his hands into tight fists. 

“He keeps asking me out even though I’ve told him that I wasn’t interested countless times,” you say in frustration, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But he won’t leave me alone. He sat next to me in History for the past hour and he just wouldn’t stop hitting on me. I wish I could just take his head and-” 

You made a violent gesture in mid air and Peter smiled at your behaviour.

“Ugh, aren’t boys just revolting.” he remarks, making you smile. 

“Please, tell me about it.” You shake your head in disgust. “And I’m pretty sure he’s following me now. He’ll probably find me soon…oh no.” 

Your voice trails off and both you and Peter spot Flash approaching the library, swaggering through that halls as if he owned the place. Peter glared at him as he got closer. In his opinion, that kid was way worse than any bank robber he had ever webbed up. 

You grabbed his shoulder and he looked down at your hand, startled by your sudden action. 

“Arg, he’s coming! I need to hide!” you yelp, looking around wildly for a place to hide but to no avail. You were out in plain sight. You flinched as you heard the doors of the library open and looked at Peter for help. And then, an incredibly stupid idea pops into your head. 

“Flirt with me.” you whisper, instantly regretting everything. 

Saying that he looked shocked would have been the understatement of the century. 

“Er - what?” he exclaimed, his face turning a bright shade of pink as Flash entered rather obnoxiously loudly into the library. He was apologizing to the cranky librarian and you quickly explained your oh so stupid plan to Peter. 

“If he sees I’m taken, he won’t ever try to make a move again.” you explain quickly, feeling yourself heat up and Peter looks at you skeptically, his blush fading. 

“(Y/N), are you sure about this? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

Flash starts to walk towards your table and your grip on Peter’s arm tightens. 

“Please.” 

He nods slightly and clears his throat, scooting himself closer to you. 

“So, uh, do you come here often?” he asks in a low voice and you stare at him before bursting out into laughter. 

“Is that honestly the best thing you’ve got?” you ask through giggles. “Gee, you’re just as awkward as I am.” 

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Hey, at least I’ve got you laughing now. It’s makes everything more convincing.” 

But he was right. Flash was eyeing the two of you, looking agitated and envious. 

“And no, this is my best line… You are absolutely, astoundingly beautiful and that’s the least interesting thing about you.” he whispers, his hand cupping your chin and tilting your head up, forcing you to look him in the eyes. His face is mere centimeters from yours and you could feel his hot breath fanning across your face. 

Your mind goes totally blank as you stare into his eyes, trying to clear your throat to say something witty back at him but you couldn’t think. Instead, to your horror, you feel your face flush as you continued to get lost in his eyes. 

“Perfect! I’ve got you blushing now too!” Peter observes, looking quite satisfied with himself. This simply deepened your blush and he chuckled. It was definitely odd, seeing this confident side of Peter, but you had to say that you were enjoying it, maybe even a little too much. 

“You’re a great actress, (Y/N).” he whispers with a grin and you nod unconsciously. 

“Er, yeah. Acting…” 

“How’s our victim?” he whispers into your ear, drawing you even closer to him, if possible. 

“Uh, h-he’s looking absolutely furious.” you stutter, finally managing to get a full sentence out. You mentally scold yourself, you weren’t going to let him know that he was making you melt and feel absolutely flustered. “He should be gone soon.” 

“Good, let’s keep at it then.” he murmurs, taking your hand gently and looking at you through his lashes. Your heart beat quickened as Peter placed his lips on your knuckles, kissing them lightly. 

“If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I’d be holding a galaxy.” he said lazily against the back of your hand and tried your best to refrain yourself from shaking at his touch. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the thought of what his soft lips would feel like against your own… 

“That’s so cliché.” you say feeling awfully breathless and he smiles once again before lifting his head back up to meet your eyes. 

“It is indeed. But it’s also true.” he replied, without breaking his character. You knew that if you had been standing, your legs would’ve failed you. “I was always told that nobody was perfect, but you’re clearly the exception. However, there is one thing I want to change about you.” 

“W-what?” you question, stuttering again. 

“Your last name.”

You desperately tried to think of a clever comeback but you couldn’t, it was as if your brain had been turned to mush. Once again you were at a loss of words, something you prided yourself of not happening. Your best friend gave you a reassuring smile before gesturing towards where Flash was standing, asking you to check if he was still there. The other boy was nowhere in sight. Thank the heavens, he was gone. But you also felt a pang of disappointment when you realized that Peter’s charade would soon come to an end… 

“He’s gone. Flash is gone.” you whisper incoherently, and Peter’s face lights up with a huge grin. 

“Yes! You’re plan worked (Y/N)!” Peter cheered happily, dropping the low, seductive voice he had used merely seconds ago.

“Are you alright?” he inquired when you don’t cheer with him. 

“Y-yeah. I’m great.”

To your dismay, he scooted away from you and began to pack up his things before standing up. 

“I feel like I allured you with my awkwardness rather than flirting with you.” Peter said, chuckling as he swung his backpack on effortlessly. “On his behalf, Flash was a complete idiot to believe any of that, I do hope I was convincing enough.” 

He frowns slightly and you nod your head furiously. 

“Uh, yeah! You were great! Could’ve fooled me!” you squeaked, trying yourself to sound as convincing as possible. Peter didn’t seem to notice how significantly higher your voice had become. 

“He shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” he says with a grin. 

“Yeah, hopefully. Thank you, Peter.” 

“No problem! And if he does bug you again, just let me know. I’ll be happy to help again. We make a pretty good team of actors, if I do say myself.” 

“Mhmm. Thanks again.” 

“Anything for you (Y/N). Well, I better get going. The ‘Stark internship’, y'know?” he says with a wink before running off to become his alter web shooting ego. 

You remained in the library, still glued to your seat. Your heart was still racing at a feverish pace. You place your hand on your cheek and to your surprise, find yourself still blushing, your cheek burning like fire. 

Was Peter Parker just that good at flirting or had you fallen for your best friend?

*****

Part 2

*****

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated! Also, if you have a request, feel free leave something in my inbox!

Tol & smol sentence starters

(some are jokey, some can be insults, some for tall people, some for small people)

“I’m so glad you’re tall, you know?”

“My feet are so small I can get my shoes cheap from the kids’ section so who’s the real winner?”

“You’re tall, can you reach that for me please?”

“Can you not put the chocolate on the top shelf? You know I can’t reach”

“You’re the perfect height for an arm rest”

“How tall are you anyway?”

“Us short people can hide in places you couldn’t think of”

“Once I got drunk and told somebody I was 5′12"

“I bought you a stepstool so you can reach the kitchen cupboards”

“You’re too small/tall”

“You’re in another level of the atmosphere up there”

“You’re so close to the average height of a primary school child”

“If anyone laughs at your height I’ll end them”

“I’ve always been the tallest/smallest of my friends”

“You can’t deny you’re small/tall at (height)”

“I don’t think I’ve grown since I was 12″

“If I knock you out you’ve got further to fall”

pretty girl ✧ peter parker

summary : peter parker may be a bumbling wreck around you most of the time, but when it comes down to it, his ability to shower you in his affections is unparalleled. 

wc : 1.6k

author’s note : i took part of @iusethistoreadfanfics aka liz aka the sweetest person ever’s request and an anon’s request for a pretty boy part two and turned it into this :) can be read separately it’s not a /direct/ sequel. 

   There was a moment, when you and Peter were at a standstill between not quite dating yet not quite just friends, when he understood with the entirety of his heart that simply calling you his best friend was not enough, nor would it ever be. He remembers the way he does every memory that involves you; as if he were stepping back in time and reliving it, clear as day, still so fresh in his mind that it could have happened just twenty four hours ago. 

   It was still the summertime when it happened, albeit one week shy of September and two weeks until the start of tenth grade for the two of you. Nevertheless, it was August, and school had been the furthest thing from your mind when you had begged Peter to accompany you to the beach, just an hour’s ride on the train from his apartment to the Rockaways. He had argued that it was more September than August at this point, that the ride would take forever, but you had insisted and because it was you and he was just another lovestruck boy with an affinity for making you smile, he agreed. He hadn’t gone with the intention of actually basking in the sunlight or standing at the edge of the water the way he knew you would, he just enjoyed your company. Then, he saw you standing there on the sand, staring out into the ocean in a pensive sort of way, and maybe it was the way the summer sunshine was illuminating you in an odd sort of way, but he knew he was in love in that simple moment. In love with the little freckles that spotted across your shoulders and the huggable way your body had been shaped and in love with the everything and anything about you. He had been well aware of the strange limbo you were both in- acknowledged feelings for each other hanging there but neither of you making a move to shift the balance in favor of a romantic relationship. 

   He was floored, to say the least. He barely blinked when you looked back at him, smiling brightly at him. “What are you looking at it?” You had said, standing next to him. He raised a hand to trace over the little stars, the freckles, on your shoulder with his finger, an unabashed grin beginning to make its way across his face. You knew what he was he looking at, and he didn’t want to be embarrassed when he told you. 

    “You,” he had breathed, an ever dreamy sigh. “Always you.” 

     Pretending not to be as shy as you were quickly becoming underneath his intent gaze, you looked down at his hand, still sitting at your shoulder before dropping awkwardly to his side. You met his eyes again, and his cheeks were burning bright red despite the confidence he had found within himself. He was still the dorky, easily flustered Peter underneath it all. He just wanted to be capable of giving you a compliment without stumbling over his own words. “Why’s that? I know I need to start doing crunches again but-” 

   “Don’t even finish that sentence.” Without saying much else for fear of not being able to coherently explain how utterly stunning he found you, he took your hand in his and pulled you over to the water. You two sat down there, and he had wrapped his arm around you hesitantly, but it wasn’t in the friendly way he had done it all those years, and you both knew it. Peter leaned over to rest his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think we’re just friends anymore.” You nodded, turning your head to the side so you were face to face with him, your hand slipping under his jaw. “What do you think, pretty girl?” 

   It was the first time he had called you that, though it wouldn’t be the last, and you had known it from the second his eyes lit up at the way you had ducked your head to hide the shy grin on your lips and the pink blotches on your cheeks. His smile was dazzling before he kissed you, and yeah, maybe you loved dorky Peter, but the confidence was ever so endearing as well. 

    Every part of Peter was impossible not to love. Even the parts of him that lived to embarrass you endlessly. 

    He took pride in being the sole resident of your heart, and because of this fact, he was the only person to ever be capable of making you blush like he’s never seen. Of course, he was the champion of being blushing like mad after receiving a compliment, but sometimes, you had to relinquish your control and just let the boy call you every term of endearment under the sun and watch as his sweet smile shined for you alone. 

   Pretty girl was your weakness. It was the weak in the knees, flustered grin, shying away sort of weakness. The sort of thing that made you hide your face from him only to have your hands grabbed and pressed against his cheeks as he waited for you to look up at him again.  

   Naturally, he tried to say it as often as possible. 

   “Psstt, pretty girl,” he kept his voice at a whisper, "D’you have the geometry notes for today? Think I lost mine.” He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling when he saw you sink low in your chair in English class, staring down at your book. 

  “No.” You rested your elbow on the table, your cheek in your hand to hide most of the blush. “You have the notes. I saw you give them to Michelle. I need to get back to reading.” He nodded, plopping his own novel on his desk and propping it open, pretending to be reading when in reality he kept glancing back up at you. “What?” 

   “Nothing, nothing at all, pretty girl.” He laughed to himself as you placed your head on the table, and he laughed all the way to lunchtime as you blatantly tried not to look at him. Peter Parker is, however, unavoidable, no matter how hard you attempt to ignore his advances and happy little smiles when he catches you still all flushed pink from an earlier encounter, and in his head, he compares it to the blush of a rose petal. 

   After school, he meets you in front of your locker, leaning against the one next to yours like a dork and wiggling his eyebrows at you when you finally slam your door shut. “You’re coming over, right? You’re not too upset with me for making you all blushy and cute today in class? ‘Cause, like, really Y/N, if you were me, it would’ve been totally worth it. You were adorable.” Because it’s Peter, you can never be mad for too long, so you shake your head no and slip your hand in his. “Okay good, I wanted to get ya something.”  

    His surprise gift his a bouquet of pink roses that he says reminded him of you the moment they caught his eye early this morning, and he presents them with a long winded explanation of why to him, they were you. He watches your eyes crinkle at the corners, your hand squeezing his as your other hand takes the flowers from him. “Thank you, Peter. They’re- they’re very pretty.” 

   He shrugged, trying to play it off cooly even though inside he was utterly ecstatic that you had appreciated the flowers. He wasn’t always sure that he was getting this whole boyfriend thing down. “Pretty flowers, my pretty girl, no big deal.” But it was, at least to you. He holds your hand all the way to his apartment, enjoying the sunny glow on your cheeks that makes his own face burn in the best way. 

   May reminds you both to keep the door open when you get to his apartment, just because she’s the aunt and she has to remind Peter of those sorts of things, but neither of you mind. 

   He puts on his playlist for you when you drop your bag on his bed, motioning for him to come over and sit with you as Hearts Don’t Break Around Here softly fills the small room. Peter places his arm around you, the way he did three months ago at the beach for the first time when your feelings were new and wild and rushed. He starts singing quietly, always so shy about his voice even though he knows it’s your favorite thing to listen to. You can almost feel yourself falling asleep against him, but he shakes you gently to make sure you’re awake when he murmurs the next few lines. “Every night I’ll kiss you, you’ll say in my ear, oh we’re in love, aren’t we?” He lets Ed take over the remainder of the song as he looks down at you, and it’s a look that any girl or boy would fall for in a heartbeat. “We are, right? In love?” 

   “So in love,” you reply, kissing him soft as ever. Gentle. 

    “Good,” he whispered, his hand trailing over your face. “Sometimes I- I have to double check. Just make sure that I’m not… like, dreaming, or something. That I’m not driving you away with complimenting you so much, ‘cause I know you hate when you blush but I just can’t resist. You’re my sweet girl, my pretty girl. I need to tell you. Is that okay?” He’s got that nervous expression on his face again, so to put his mind at ease, you pull him against you again. 

    “Peter, that’s okay. As long as it’s you, it’ll be okay.” He relaxes under your careful touch, practically melting against you until you smirk a little and say, “I’ve got more of the power anyway, pretty boy.” And suddenly a red face Peter Parker is pulling away from you, furiously blushing and cursing the day he ever decided he was going to fall madly in love with you, except not really, because it was arguably the best day of his life.   

    The cycle then repeats. 

tags : @parkerroos @spideyyss @ladysnowren @hufflepuffholland @grant-valdes-holland @captainswriting @spideyyparker @focused-on-holland @underoosie @marvelsdaughter @iusethistoreadfanfics @bihaza @theclonewarss @skymoonandstardust @punk-rock-princess-626 @lunastarwatcher @warcriminalrogers @brittyblogs @tiny-friggin-human @heartfrost (if you wanne be taken off the list let me know it’s no problem)