An AU where Bitty didn’t go to Samwell and instead started working at a bakery in Providence. The bakery is around the same neighbourhood where Tater lives.
Tater starts frequenting the place and soon enough, you guessed it. Bitty and Tater become friends.
The best of friends. The ride or die friends. The I’d hide a body with you friend. But also the how many skittles can you fit in your mouth? Friend.
Tater starts a lot of his stories with ‘B and I…’ ‘Took B to’ 'B is’ etc and everybody starts assuming that B is Tater’s girlfriend, until he brings him for a game.
Everybody sort of goes 'oooooh’ and assumes this is Tater coming out and bringing his boyfriend to meet them. And if you think about it, it sort of explains Tater calling him B.
Then Tater comes super excited one day. 'B will move with me!’ And they all congratulate him and everything, thinking it’s so nice that Tater and Bitty’s relationship is going well, while actually Tater has been nagging Bitty to move in so he can have access to pie 24/7.
But also because Bitty is his best friend and since he bought his apartment he has been feeling a little lonely, this is the reason that does convince Bitty to move in because he has been feeling a little lonely too.
Fast forward a year, Jack graduates and joins the team. By this point Bitty is a regular at the games, he is a very in demand babysitter and makes a lot of food for the players.
Before he starts, Guy and Marty take the time to feel him out and explain that Tater has a boyfriend, and that they will have nothing but acceptance in their locker room.
They do this after asking Tater if it was ok to tell Jack about Bitty.
'No problem!’ Tater replies happily 'But B so good he need no introduction.’
Jack is pleased by this of course, and happy he is in a welcoming team.
Then Jack meets Bitty.
And to make it better, let’s say he meets him when he is carrying a bunch of stuff for the nook.
'You should eat more protein,’ Jack jokes after seeing all the pies, and offers a hand to carry things.
Bitty jokes/flirts back. They are having a moment, Jack feels butterflies in his stomach and well, if the team is ok with Tater, surely they’d be ok with him…
'B! You made it!’ Tater bellows from down the hallways and rushes over, picking Bitty and putting him in a bear hug. 'I miss you.’
'Tater!’ Bitty yells laughing, and kisses his cheek playfully, 'you saw me this morning.’
'Yeah but you sleepy, you grumpy when sleepy. Like tiny bear.’
And then Bitty and Tater start to bicker like an old married couple. This whole time Tater is holding Bitty up.
Jack stomach drops to his feet, because of course Bitty is taken. By his teammate.
Jack develops a crush, a massive problematic crush because holy fuck Tater is the nicest person ever, and he would never want to get in between him and his boyfriend, but also he is terrified of Tater finding out because he once took two defence man by himself and won.
Meanwhile, at Bitty and Tater’s home, Bitty flings himself dramatically over the counter.
'Tater! I’m in love. Jack is so cute and nice, I like him so much.’
'Jack nice guy, he good guy for you. I approve,’ Tater says solemnly with a mouth full of pie.
'Say it don’t spray it,’ Bitty asks for the millionth time. 'Do you know if he likes guys?’
And then Tater being the good friend he is, tries to feel Jack out and play matchmaker, while an increasingly alarmed Jack thinks Tater is warning him off about crushing on Bitty.
Which isn’t helped by the fact Bitty keeps popping up to chirp him, which kind of feels like flirting but surely not…
Things get clarified and everything, Jack and Bitty start dating, and Tater has to explain 8 times to everybody that no, he never dated Bitty.
'We kissed once. We agree weird. We best as best friends,’ Tater says once again.
'Yeah but if he was going to date somebody other than you why couldn’t it be me?’ Poots complains loudly.
'You no good enough for B,’ Tater chirps back. 'I only let B date good teammate who didn’t eat my pie.’
'Will you let that go man!? I didn’t know it was yours.’
'It had sticky paper with Tater on it! You don’t fool me Poot, you food thief!’
ARIES: when a character goes into a fit of frustration by kicking their legs in the air repeatedly and thrashing their bodies around until the whole bed/couch/floor is a mess and so is their hair
TAURUS: when character A watches in adoration as character B stuffs their face with delicious food or drinks/having a whole day filled with them eating street food and going clubbing
GEMINI: the main character always treating the happy-go-lucky side character like crap for comedic effect, but it’s kinda sad bc they never apologize
CANCER: the infamous umbrella scene. “I dislike you/don’t know you that well, but I can’t let you get soaked in the rain so I’m gonna hold this umbrella/cape over you bc I’m just a good person and I’m totally not interested in you”
LEO: having 284 different shots/angles of the main characters’ first kiss/hug. That zoom in slo-mo of character A pulling character B into their arms and embracing them for the first time/locking lips with them
VIRGO: there’s always that ONE THING that has to destroy the couple’s relationship. Whether it’s bc your bride needs to kill you or she dies, or you somehow went back in time a couple hundred years and can’t tell your prince bf
LIBRA: the main characters always being bound together by destiny such as outside supernatural forces/parallel universes/connecting timelines from the present to the future or past
SCORPIO: seeing that happy montage of the main couple after all their ups and downs, and knowing something terrible is going to happen shortly after
SAGITTARIUS: character A tries to convince themselves that they don’t need character B, and do everything they can to distract themselves by working/drinking/dating someone else, only to finally admit to themselves that they’re in love
CAPRICORN: the rich, cold, mysterious character always falling for the person who needs help…but they’ve convinced themselves that they totally don’t like this person until they finally admit it on like the last episode
AQUARIUS: having an idol/famous actor who’s worked alongside one of the actors on another series before appear in almost every kdrama, whether it’s a short cameo or one of the main characters
PISCES: that scene when they clutch their chest and cry waterfalls for seemingly no reason, only for us to find out that something horrible occurred later on to reveal this character’s sadness and why they’re emo
I wonder if this was scripted–this little kiss Mon-el stretches up to give her to end the scene. Like, do they get directed to do things like this quick peck or the kiss on the check previously in the episode, or is it just Chris x Mel having great chemistry and working really well together? The karamel relationship feels so real because of the attention to detail we’ve seen in each of their interactions, and I’m sure that the credit goes to Chris x Mel for that. I often take for granted what it means to have this relationship ship seem so natural and real–that it means Chris x Mel have a strong, natural chemistry as people and as actors, and they really care about their characters’ relationship portrayal. All these small interactions they have really authenticate the relationship. I love these two, and I love them togther.
Tip: read this in bucky’s voice *casually sips tea*
I like it when she stands next to
the door, shoulder resting on its frame, and when she has that glint of
mischief in her smile, and eyes that are already brimming with lust, dark and
wild and motivated to wreck me.
I like it when she walks inside, in just my wrinkled
shirt, the hem of which reaches till her mid-thighs. She walks in with an
intention to bring me down to my knees.
I like it when she pushes me back on the bed, legs
straddling my body, hands freely roaming over my bare chest, nails drawing red
angry marks. And I like it when she smirks, feeling my heart thrumming
underneath her assault.
I like when she leans down, lips pressing against my
neck, hips teasingly rolling down on mine, pulling a mewl of her name as a
warning to behave.
summary : peter, hopeless romantic that he is, has a cache of love letters, all addressed to you, hidden under his bed and expertly crafted. he never anticipated them being read, or the feelings he has for you being returned.
word count : 3.1k (holy fucking hell i’m sorry)
Peter couldn’t help it, the way that he was. He was a romantic at a heart, though the awkwardness of him had a tendency to prevail rather than the confident, smooth talking, small part of him that had a desperate desire to reveal itself. Spider-man was as suave as a fifteen year old boy could be; Peter Parker was awkward, inept at participating in normal, human conversation and often incapable of forming coherent sentences more often than not. He wasn’t the best at talking to people besides Ned and Aunt May and- on occasion- Tony Stark. Especially not you. If there was one person that he turned into an absolute bumbling, ridiculous mess around, it was you. He loathed himself for it, sure that you thought that he was weird, annoying, the same way that anyone who didn’t know him assumed he was.
Ned, however, continuously insisted that you found Peter to be a sweetheart, like anyone who got to know him well enough did, and that you liked him very much- perhaps more than a friend, though Peter had immediately scoffed at the notion. It was out of the question, downright ludicrous. But, of course, Ned had implanted the idea in Peter’s head, and now the boy’s ever creative mind refused to stop constructing various scenarios in which you were Peter’s girlfriend and he was as happy as he had ever been.
While he had been a perfectly charming boyfriend in each and every one of those little dream sequences of his, he was hopelessly lost for words whenever you approached him, unable to even ask what class you had next, let alone reveal the pure adoration he had been holding on to ever since you had been placed beside him in Bio in your freshman year. You had always been the one to stick up for him and smile at him and treat him like a decent human being, and so of course he fell for you, and now he could barely look you in the eye without his cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. So, he bottled his feelings and let them out in a way he had never known could help him.
He wrote to you every single day and poured his heart out in every single letter and expressed every thought he knew, in his heart, he would never be able to say out loud. Writing what he felt was so much simpler than saying the words out loud. That was what he assumed, anyhow. He took his pen and placed it down on the paper, starting it the same way he always did.
Dear Y/N… As always, the words spilled over from his mind to the paper as if he wasn’t thinking, just writing and writing and writing until he had filled two pages without lifting his curly head from the paper once. When he finally finished, a yawn stretching across his mouth, he noticed Aunt May standing outside his door. He turned his chair around, raising his eyebrows at her.
“Writing to that pretty girl again?” She asked, hand on her hip but wearing a knowing, soft grin. Peter, not bothering to feign shock, nodded solemnly and placed his pen down the paper. “You should think about maybe, oh I don’t know, actually giving her one of the letters you’ve written?”
Adamantly, Peter shook his head. “May, I could never. You don’t get it.” He swiveled around in the chair, spinning it until he was dizzy. “These letters are embarrassing. They’re practically my whole heart and soul on a piece of paper. She’d scream and run away if she read how I felt about her.” He sighed, placing his elbow on the edge of the desk and resting his cheek in his hand. He stared up at his aunt, still craving her sage advice. May stared back at him thoughtfully.
“Well, in my personal experience,” she came over and gave Peter’s shoulder a squeeze, eyeing the letter that was signed with Peter’s name, “girls are suckers for love letters. And you Parker men write the best ones out there. Trust me.”
Peter bit his lip. “Yeah, sure, I’m not an awful writer. But, I still can’t give them to her. I just can’t.” Before she could say anything else, he was folding it up and placing it on top of the shelf on his desk next to his books for English. “Uncle Ben was different. He was charming. You know that.”
May smiled wistfully. “I do.”
“And that’s one thing that I didn’t get from him,” Peter finished, shrugging his shoulders as he stood up from his swivel chair. “It’s fine.” He waved it off. “I’m happy suffering in silence. I’m gonna go to bed. Big English project starts tomorrow. Love you,” he kissed May on the cheek as she left his bedroom, switching the light off in her departure. He stared at the wall once he was situated in bed, mulling the conversation over in his head. Maybe May’s right. Maybe telling Y/N wouldn’t be as bad as I’m thinking. Maybe I’m overreacting. Actually, never mind. She probably hates me. Ugh. Life sucks.
That morning, when he arrived in his English class, you were sitting in the seat that had been previously occupied by Ned pretty much every class since the beginning of the school year. Sucking in a breath, Peter took his first step into the classroom. He knew he was a little late to today’s lesson, but he hadn’t realized he was a full fifteen minutes behind schedule. Ned was in the back with Michelle, giving Peter an encouraging thumbs up when he noticed his best friend finally arrive on the scene. Peter gave him the finger.
“Mr. Parker, lovely for you to join us!” Ms. Matthews declared when he decided to shove himself through the door, his heart jackhammering away in his chest and making its way up to his throat. He kind of wanted to throw up.
“Um, yeah, well, you know, sleep and whatnot- overslept, haha,” he coughed out a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. The teacher nodded with faux sympathy, though he could tell she didn’t care that much for his explanation. “I’ll just, um, sit. Down.”
“Next to Y/N, please,” She instructed, waving her hand in your direction. “Since you were late and unable to choose your own partner, surprising since usually Ned is so eager to work with you, Y/N offered to be your partner.” The teacher gave you a fond smile, as every teacher did. “She can explain the details of the assignment.”
Peter gave her a stiff nod before sliding into his chair, and you noticed how rigid he was as he turned toward you with a slight frown. He seemed extremely upset to be working with you, but you wouldn’t let that get in the way. You liked Peter. Really, truly liked him. He was a sweetie whenever he actually talked to and different than the rest of the guys at Midtown. He was genuine.
Giving him your full attention, you beamed at him. “Hey, Peter,” you said cheerfully. He gave you a small smile in return, wringing his hands under the desk. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Your own smile dropped, which he noticed immediately and felt awful about. “Sorry you didn’t get paired up with Ned,” you continued, taking your books out of your shoulder bag. “I know you would’ve preferred it that way-”
“No!” He interrupted quickly, practically slamming his hands down on the desk so hard you jumped in your seat, eyes wide. “Sorry, sorry, I just, um,” he laughed a little, his cheeks burning, “I’m, um, happy to have you as a partner. Really, I am,” he added as an afterthought, just to make sure you knew.
Your shoulders relaxed as you looked at him. “You’re not just saying that, right? You seem awfully stiff,” you teased, poking his uncomfortably positioned arm as you quirked a brow.
“Do I?” He was practically sweating.
“I was just joking, Pete. It’s cute, anyway.” Peter’s eyes, a shade of brown that you had come to think of as warm as honey, went wide and he gaped at you, but you pretended not to notice. “So, for the assignment we have to write a short story based on one of the assigned reading books this year.”
She called me cute.
“Shit… I think I forgot all of mine,” you were mumbling, your head practically stuck in your bag. “Did your bring yours, Peter?”
Oh my god, she thinks I’m cute. She thinks I’m cute. I’m going to faint.
You snapped your fingers in front of his cherry red face, trying not to appear as amused as you felt. He blinked owlishly, an apologetic half smile, half grimace on his face. He was cute most of the time, but especially when he smiled, even if it was only a forced, awkward one. “Do you have your books, Peter?” You repeated kindly.
“Um, sorry, I’ll check,” he answered, embarrassed about his utterly obvious staring that had just occurred. He rummaged around in his backpack before realizing he had forgotten them, as well. He popped back up, curls in disarray as his head brushed against the fabric of his bag. “I forgot them, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. It was kind of adorable.
“You need to stop apologizing for everything, Pete,” you laughed. “It’s fine. We can get started after school. My place or yours?” You were already packing your things, and before he could think about what he was about to do, he said, “Mine.”
“Cool,” you grinned again, a grin that made him want to smile for the rest of his life. “Which one of is doing the writing? Or do you want to split it?”
“You’re a, um, fantastic writer,” he told you, having read your submissions to the school newspaper more times than he could count. “If you wanna take over, you can. I can edit and stuff.”
“Aw, I’m not that good,” you shook your head abashedly, looking down at your lap. “But thank you, Peter. I’m sure you’re great, too, though. Are you sure you don’t wanna write some of it?”
“I’m not much of a writer.”
So, you were in Peter Parker’s room. He was having his third heart attack of the day, and was incredibly grateful that he had managed to keep his wits about him for majority of the day. He had only tripped over his words five times, tripped literally twice, and dropped his Metro card once, but it was fine. You helped him back each time he fell with your usual grace, barely acknowledging his multiple social faux pas and only laughing once because he fell over a small dog- which even he would admit was pretty funny.
Still, his palms were sweaty around you and he didn’t know how he was going to survive working so close to you for the next week while the English assignment was occurring. He lead you into his apartment and you noticed that his hands were shaking slightly as he twisted the keys in the lock. You walked into the apartment, the first thing crossing your mind was how cozy and homelike it was. You liked it very much.
“It’s really cute in here,” you said, smiling around the room as Peter busied himself with a glass of water. He downed it quickly. “Where’s your aunt?”
“Work,” he replied, catching his breath after the gulping down of his water. “Here, let’s go to my room.” He placed his glass of water on the counter and motioned for you to follow him, opening the door to his room and wincing at the mess in there. “It’s a mess, sorry about that.”
You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Didn’t I say stop apologizing?” You entered his room as if you had been there many times before, taking your shoes off and setting them by the door. You threw your bag on his bed and took a seat in his swivel chair, and he liked how natural it seemed for you to be in his room. He liked how comfortable you were, sitting there. Something about it made him happy.
“Yeah, my bad,” he shrugged. You tilted your head, pointing your finger at him while he raised his hands defensively. “It wasn’t technically an apology!” He took a step out of the room. He was finally being normal around you, he realized delightedly. He would still need more water, though. He could feel his mouth getting dry. “I’m gonna get more water. Want anything?” You shook your head, spinning around in the chair as he left.
Your eyes scanned over his desk, taking in every inch of Peter Parker’s life. He had bad books stacked everywhere, his desk was a mess, there were clothes thrown about the room. Star Wars posters, Avengers posters, notes scattered across the desk. You admired the artful messiness of it all. You leaned up to where his English books were, spotting the one you were most interested in and yanking it off the shelf. As you did, a folded piece of paper fluttered down off the shelf, just when Peter was walking back into the room.
“I thought you said you weren’t a writer, Pete,” you raised your eyebrows at him, holding the letter in your hand and waving it at him.
He almost threw up right there. “Um, I’m not, please give that back,” he reached for it, but you jumped out of the chair, raising the letter high in the air. “Y/N!” He whined, grabbing for it again. “C’mon, please,” he pleaded desperately, pouting at you with such intensity it almost made you want to give it to him.
“Can’t I just read a sentence, Peter?” You pushed out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him.
He almost gave in. “No, Y/N. Seriously, give it back.” He sounded scared now, upset as well. You pursed your lips, handing it back to him. He was so anxious about you reading it that it dropped on the floor, opening far enough so that you could see your name scrawled across the top in Peter’s defining chicken scratch handwriting.
“That says my name, so now I have to read it.” You stood directly in front of Peter, hands pressed together in a pleading motion, the expression on your face so genuinely interested that he had to give it to you. He picked it back up with a lump in his throat and handed it over, scared as ever. But this was what May had advised. Maybe she’d be right.
“Dear Y/N,” you read aloud in a loud, terrible accent, glancing back up at Peter as you read the line after that. He was staring down at the floor, preparing himself for what you were going to say when you read the letter, read his heart. You sat in his chair, realizing it’d be better if you didn’t read it so publicly. He sat down on his bed, waiting.
Dear Y/N. This is maybe the tenth letter I’ve written to you, and each time I say the same thing, so if one day you are reading this in proper succession, I’m sorry for being so utterly repetitive. You’ll probably never read this, though. And that’s why it’s so easy for me to write. I think you’re the only person to ever truly be interested in me when I’m talking about science. Not even Ned has an attention span that long. But you do. And you don’t know how much I want to thank you for that. You make it really difficult to not like you, to not be in love with you. I think that’s what it is… love. And if I’m not in love with you yet, then I’m certainly falling for you. Who wouldn’t? You’re a wonderful person without trying, you’re a beautiful hurricane, a sunset on the horizon of my bleakest hours, and you make me feel as if I’ve been standing in the sunshine for my entire life.
You put the letter down, smoothing it over your lap. You didn’t need to read the rest. That was enough. Peter gazed at you now, the way you’ve yearned to be looked at before, and you shamed yourself for being so blind these past two years. He wasn’t simply just staring. He was looking. Admiring. You slid next to Peter, placing the letter behind you. He moved his hand, curling his fingers around yours tentative as ever. Your free hand grazed up the side of his face, toying with the hair on the back of his neck before resting on his cheek. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again, you were so close that he was able to count each individual eyelash that you had, every single fleck of pure beauty in your deep eyes.
“I like you very much, Peter Parker,” you murmured. He felt his heart soar, and then, he felt himself kiss you. It was an out of body experience. He was there, he was the one kissing you, the one who had initiated it, but it felt like he wasn’t. He was up in the clouds, too far lost in the way it felt to run his hands through your hair as he had always dreamed of to notice Aunt May sneaking past the door, overjoyed to see Peter finally with the girl he had been loving in silence for far too long. You pulled away from each other, eyes opening slowly and hesitantly and your lips practically still connected.
He wanted to tell her that he adored her, but Aunt May’s voice flowed from the kitchen too loud to overpower his thoughts. “You read her the letter, didn’t you? I told you it’d work! Worked for your Uncle Ben and I was right as I always am!”
He jumped up from the bed, sticking his head out of the doorway and pressing his finger to his lips. “Maaaayyyy, you’re embarrassing me,” he whispered-yelled, practically whined. “You were right, okay? Thank you, let me go get a girlfriend now. The girlfriend.” She beamed at him, but no one’s smile could shine brighter than Peter’s.
He retreated back into the room, and you were clutching the letter in your hands. You looked up at him hopefully. “I was thinking that maybe you could read me the other nine letters. If you’re up for it.”
Peter couldn’t possibly say no, taking a page out of his Uncle Ben’s book the way he should have done in the first place as he found the hiding spot for the stack of letters he had been writing for the past few months, sliding them over to you and feeling confident for the first time in a long time.
It had been months since Tom had gotten decent sleep, let alone slept in the same bed as you. You missed the feeling of his warmth next to you, the feeling of his arm around your waist holding you tight to him. You missed the morning kisses he would give you, each one better than the last.
After what seemed like forever, Tom had a few days off once he was done with press for Spider-Man: Homecoming. He had pushed himself this time, harder than he had before. You could see it in the dark circles under his eyes and the way he spoke to you at night on the phone. He was just exhausted. And finally, he was home.
He didn’t want to wake you when he came home, careful to climb into your bed without waking you up. He was well too excited to feel someone next to him, that someone being you, the love of his life. God how he wished he could show you how much he missed you right then and there, but that would have to wait. He turned on his side, facing you and quickly fell asleep.
8 hours later and jet lagged, he woke up before you. He knows you’ve been busy too, you both needed a break. After ten minutes of watching your beautiful form sleep peacefully, he felt you shift in your current sleeping position. You flipped over, not expecting to see a half-naked, groggy and handsome as ever Tom in your bed. You did a double take and almost had a heart attack. Without saying anything, you tried to remain calm and watched him as he watched you, seeing how long you both could last like this.
After five minutes you couldn’t take it. He was just too damn sexy. You climbed on top of him, kissing him with everything inside you. God, all the days you spent in this bed with cold toes, only to now have him back. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much baby” Tom says, his voice raspy from his recent travels.
“And I you” you said smiling at him before he pulled you into a hug. You took in his scent and the feeling of his arms around your waist. He flipped you over and kissed you deeply, one hand in the crook of your neck and the other on your waist. He couldn’t get enough of you, and he never would.
A/N: Happy Angst Appreciation Day round three, it’s a day late, but life happens. Reader is Dean’s 17 year old daughter who has a twin brother named Robby.
Dean x Daughter!Reader Sam x Sister!Reader
You stood at the counter of the diner trying to decide if you should go back to the booth where your father, uncle, and twin brother sat, or if you’d have a better time alone at the counter. You’d gone up to ask for more napkins to clean up a spill that Robby, your twin had made. However glancing back you saw that they had waved down the waitress who your dad and brother were both flirting with.
With the roll of your eyes you took a seat at the counter; knowing you’d actually enjoy your meal if you weren’t near your father or brother.
You loved them both dearly and at one point your entire family was so close knit that your absence would have been noticed right away. However as you grew older the bond you shared with your twin and father began to disappear and once you started going on hunts with your dad and uncle, it all but vanished.
At first you told yourself that you were overreacting; that your father was just constantly worried about you, but as time went on you saw how close Robby and your dad still were, yet you remained on the outside.
It was something that your dad and brother both seemed oblivious to. Whenever you’d try to involve yourself in what they were doing they would send you away with some excuse as to why you couldn’t participate with them and soon you just stopped asking.
This never seemed to effect them, but it sure effected you.
Your father and Robby might not have seen what they were doing, but your Uncle Sam sure did. At first he tried to stick up for you, pointing out to Dean all the times it seemed that Robby and him would purposefully leave you out. Dean would deny it and after countless arguments with no change Sam stopped trying. Instead he became the figure in your life you so desperately wanted.
Still, there were times that Sam got sucked into whatever fun Robby and your dad were having; leaving you to be the outsider in your family again.
It was a role you learned to accept and gave up hope that it’d change.
A/N: This took me so long to finish. Here’s a mix between some jerking off and some passionate sex. I’d love to hear what you think.
Word count: 3,295
After Karen and I picked up Shawn at the airport, we went straight back to their house to spend the night. Though Shawn would have rather gone home, he’d finally given in after a couple of hours pouting childishly in the car from the airport and back to Pickering.
It wasn’t that I didn’t understand he wanted to spend his first night back in his own apartment, but his cousin were graduating tomorrow and driving all the way back and forth two days in a row was just stupid when Karen and Manny had left Shawn’s old room untouched since he moved.
i thought this was super cute and i hope you guys enjoy it!!
warnings: kissing and swearing
word count: 2002
requests are open:))!!
sitting in science last period i was trying to keep myself from falling asleep. i could feel my eyes slowly begin to shut as my head was resting on the palm of my hand. peter nudged me as my eyes began to shut completely. i jumped slightly then kicked him under the table, mouthing a few curse words his way. i could see his body vibrating with laughter as my angry face turned to look at the board.
the bell sounded and the whole classroom came to life, majority practicality running out of the class. i grabbed my things and followed peter and ned out of the class, we stopped at my locker first i began placing my things back in my locker and grabbed my back pack.
“movie night?” i asked peter a small smile forming on my face once i saw his reaction. his face lit up as a large smile was placed on his face, he nodded his head excitedly as we began making our way to his locker. along the way we lost ned in the crowd of people. peters smile was still on his face when we arrived at his locker.
i love his smile
peter looked at me for a second, his face turned a bright shade of pink and his lips began to twitch up at the ends. “what?” he questioned as he pulled his bag from his locker. “did i say something?” i played dumb with him, i was not going to admit to my best friend of 5 years that i was madly in love with him while he spent all of his time looking at liz completely oblivious to how i feel.
Okay, as I’ve embraced being a Fandom Old Person ™, I’m tired of seeing all the cute, domestic OTP scenarios written by people who probably haven’t lived with a significant other before, except for maybe a romantic weekend where all the “sleepy good morning kisses” and “dancing in their underwear at midnight” happen. I want to see them after a few years like:
A sleepy good morning kiss that ends up with a palm in the face and a muttered, “brush your damn teeth first.”
A sleepy good morning kiss that ends up with a palm in the face and a muttered, “I will push you off the fucking bed if you don’t let me sleep.”
Watching scary movies on the couch and one of them falls asleep, head tilted back, mouth open, snoring loud enough to wake the neighbors.
“You unclog the toilet.” “No you unclog the toilet!” “Don’t you love me anymore?” “Only if you unclog the toilet.”
“Are those my jeans?” *shrug* “Does it matter anymore?”
Stealing a kiss while one is making dinner and getting smacked in the ear with the spatula.
Person A: “Can you pass me the oregano?” Person B: “I need payment first.” *puckers lips* Person A: *holds out a dollar*
Getting snowed in and arguing for an hour about whether to make the hot chocolate with milk or water until one of them just dumps the packet over the other’s head.
After having long, languid sex with strawberries and whipped cream, both of them laying in the wreckage of the bed, sheets, towels. Both: “that was such a bad idea. We’ll never get this all cleaned up.”
Holding hands after a date, wandering through the romantic twilight, so in love, and one says, “shit, it’s getting late and we haven’t gone grocery shopping yet.”
Person A coming up behind Person B, wrapping their arms around their waist, gently kissing the back of their neck and murmuring, “you’ve got more gray hair back here.”
Renewing their wedding vows 10, 20, 30 years later and still crying like they did when they were young and youthfully in love and said “I do” for the first time.