my eyebrow is having a good day

anonymous asked:

“You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay?” au sterek? <3

OK, I wrote you a quick little thing. :)

now also on ao3

*

When Derek shows up at Stiles’ back door that morning with a basket full of about three dozen cookies, all carefully iced to look like Batman and Spider-Man, Stiles doesn’t say anything. He just gets up from the kitchen table and opens the screen door, and then he looks down at the basket for a long, long moment, and then he rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes and groans.

He looks kind of… unkempt. He’s wearing the same sweatpants and lacrosse hoodie he’d had on two days ago when Derek saw him at his mailbox, and his hair is sticking up everywhere, and it’s obvious he hasn’t shaved in a while because there’s some actual stubble there. Derek didn’t think Stiles was even capable of facial hair. It only adds to his attractiveness, but still, Derek can’t help but be concerned.

Derek doesn’t usually start conversations, but today he feels like making an exception. “Are you okay? This is a lot more baking than usual, even for you.”

“What? What do you mean?” Stiles says, dropping his hands to his sides. His face cycles through about five or six different expressions before settling on something that’s probably trying to say “innocent and oblivious,” but… well. Derek might not know Stiles that well, but he knows Stiles is definitely not either of those things, ever.

“The cookies,” Derek says slowly. “That you leave on my doorstep a few times a week while I’m out on my morning run.”

Stiles glares down at the cookies Derek’s holding like they’ve betrayed him.

“We don’t talk about it,” Derek says slowly, unsure, “but I thought you knew that I knew it was you. I mean, no one else in the neighborhood even talks to me.”

Keep reading

8.15.17 // 11:30am // guide to treating yourself on a student’s budget

requested by @rivkahstudies (thanks rivkah!)

school is hard. it’s kind of a fact. hate to break it to you, but it only gets harder. sure, academics are important, but your mental health is even more so. taking a break and having some fun is crucial to preventing burn out, but sometimes it gets a little harder to do so on a tight budget. hopefully these tips will help you out. xoxo, m

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The Night She Took (My Breath Away) SMUT (NSFW 18+)

A/N: Hi guys. I have no idea where is came from but here it is. The titles is from this song I Don’t Know Her Name by Bad Boy Blue and I think the lyrics are perfect for this song. Also, idfc by Blackbear helped me with the smut. Thank you thank you thank you to @writing-obrien for helping with this. She’s such a lifesaver, She’s always there to jump in and take over.

Warning: SMUTTT, Slight alcohol abuse(I mean their drunk so), mentions for drugs

Word Count: 5482

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

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Bit of a Flirt

Request: Can you do a TJeffs image with 16,18, 21?

16: You’re cute with glasses.
18: What are you five?
21: Don’t give me that look! It’s not my fault!

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

Warning: lots of sexual innuendos/jokes, swearing? but when do i not swear in fics lmao

Kink Tag: none!

Period: Modern

Song: “Thin Air” - Olivia Holt ft. Jordan Fisher

A/N: So I collabed with @daveeddiggsit for this one and it ended up way cuter than we expected?? lol hope you enjoy!! (also there are several criminal minds references bc i’m like that)


You pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose as you continued typing away at your final thesis paper of the semester. Hair up in a bun, and some ratty university sweatpants on, you were looking a little worse for wear. But that was normal during finals week, right?

The library you had been holed up in for the past five hours was dead silent, allowing you to completely focus on your paper. Your eyes were glued to your laptop screen when you heard the sound of a chair scraping backwards but you were too in the zone to look up. As long as they didn’t disrupt your concentration, you’d be good.

“You ever think that the reason you’re wearing glasses is because you’ve been staring at that screen pretty closely for about two hours straight?” You heard a curious, deep voice interrupt your thoughts.

“You ever think about how the library is a quiet place for people to work,” you retorted without looking away from your screen.

“If you really want a quiet place to work, we could head back to my place and work on some other things too, if you know what I mean.” You could practically hear the smirk grow on his face.

“That sounds like one of the first lines in a Criminal Minds episode. Hard pass.”

“You like Criminal Minds? How about you let me profile you.

You finally glanced over and you could see that there definitely was a smirk on the very attractive man’s face. His hair was wildly curly, yet somehow tamable to an extent, facial hair adorned his defined jawline, and his amused brown eyes stared into your slightly-narrowed ones.

If you weren’t supposed to email this paper to your professor in six hours, you probably would’ve taken him up on his advances, but what was more attractive than Smirky Guy was an A on your paper. Which you then turned back to.

“Are you seriously just going to keep ignoring me?” He asked.

“Yup.”

“I’m just going to keep flirting with you until you talk to me.”

“You call saying random pick up lines to a girl whose name you don’t know and receiving little to no response flirting?”

“Yup.” He said, mocking you.

You rolled your eyes and continued to type your paper.

“Aww, come on, four eyes, take a break and talk to me. It won’t hurt anyone.”

You completely turned to him. “‘Four eyes,’ really?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you, five?”

“Hey, ‘four eyes’ isn’t a bad thing. You look cute in glasses.” He grinned at you and even added a wink this time.

“I look better when I’m not being distracted from finishing my final paper.”

“Well if you look this good distracted, it makes me wonder how good you look when you’re focused on someone.”

“Seriously? I haven’t washed my hair in two days, my eyes are more bloodshot than a stoners, and I have so much dirty laundry I’ve stooped to buying clothes from the campus store.”

Undeterred, Smirky Guy grinned at you again. Or maybe he never stopped. “Are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten I see.”

You rolled your eyes. “The library is empty. You completely lack a frame of reference.”

“Just accept a compliment for once, four eyes.”

You started to grow a bit irritated with the guy. Sure, he was attractive, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was arrogant. “Okay, first of all, pick up lines aren’t compliments. Second of all, stop calling me ‘four eyes.’ It’s annoying.”

“If you told me your name, then maybe I’d consider dropping the nickname.”

You were both interrupted by a librarian coming up behind you and Smirky Guy, harshly whispering.

“You two are being very disruptive to your other peers who are trying to study. If you could do me a favor and kindly show yourselves out, that would be much appreciated.”

“But there’s no one else here-” Smirky Guy tried to reason with her, but she cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“Don’t make me ask again.” She said sternly. “Leave this library quietly before I write you up.”

You glared at him as you packed up your stuff. “Thanks a lot. This is the only quiet place on campus and I have to turn this in at midnight!”

His eyes widened as he put his hands up in a mock surrender. “Don’t give me that look! It’s not my fault!”

“Really?” You said sarcastically, cocking your head to the side. “I wasn’t making any noise until you showed up and tried to hit on me.”

He groaned before sighing. “Let me make it up to you, then.”

You scoffed and threw your bag over your shoulder. “How about no?”

“Look, four-”

Stop calling me ‘four eyes.’” You growled.

He put his hands up again. “Hey, no need to be feisty, though I’m not opposed to it in a different situation.” He smirked but stopped when he saw the somewhat murderous expression on your face. “Just tell me your name.”

“You first, Smirky Guy.”

“Smirky Guy? That’s way worse than four-” You punched him in the arm. “Ow! Okay, okay. My name is Thomas. Happy?”

“Not really because someone, not gonna name any names, got me kicked out of the library when I have a paper that my life depends on due in less than six hours!”

“Does your life really depend on it?”

You groaned in frustration and walked as fast as you possibly could to the library doors, glaring at the librarian on the way out when she gave you a dirty look.

Completely ticked off by everything that had happened in the span of a half hour, you rushed out of the library to get away only to find out that it was pouring rain.

You looked up to the sky, defeated. “Can this day get any fucking worse?”

“Hey.” Smirky Guy who you now knew as Thomas appeared next to you.

“Really? Can you please just go away?

“Fine. I’ll rescind my offer to give you a ride to my apartment where it’s quiet and you can wait out the rain.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“There is no fucking way I am going home with the guy who got me kicked out of the library because he was giving me idiotic pick up lines.”

“Listen,” he started, “I know you’re a smart girl, but it wouldn’t be wise of you to stay out in the rain. Especially if you have your laptop in your bag, especially if it’s getting dark out, and especially if you need fast wifi to finish and submit your paper.”

“You literally just met me and you still don’t know my name. Don’t make assumptions about me.”

Thomas sighed frustratedly. “I’m just trying to help. I did get you kicked out of the library, right?”

“Wow, you’re actually admitting to it now. How grand of you.”

“Could you maybe stop being a smartass for a minute and let me help you?”

You stepped under the ledge over the library doors as you narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s in it for you, Smirky Guy?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, “it’ll be my good deed of the day.” He stepped under the ledge next to you to get out of the rain and you saw the distinct imprint of a very toned stomach under the lamp light. His hair, poofy before, was now weighed down by water.

He smirked as he watched you not so subtly check him out. “Like what you see, four eyes?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “No. You’re still annoying.”

“But that doesn’t take away from the fact that you think I’m attractive, does it?” He asked cockily.

“Did I ever say that I found you attractive?”

“Not out loud, but your eyes tell me everything.”

You snorted. “What kind of line is that, Smirky?”

“The truth, four.”

“What truth? I bet you saw me alone in the library and thought you could pick me up with one backhanded compliment didn’t you?”

“You know, you’re actually right on that part, but you being difficult made me realize that I like challenges.”

“You want a challenge? Try the crossword in the New York Times. I’m a person, not a puzzle.”

Thomas’s smug look faltered for a moment. “Okay, person whose name I still don’t know, will you please let me help you out? Just come over for a couple of hours, dry off, finish your paper, and eat something, because god knows how long it’s been since you’ve had an actual meal. I won’t even bother you. Hell, I’ll even edit your paper.”

“I eat.”

“Cafeteria food doesn’t count, darling.”

You sighed, contemplating the pros and cons of going with him. “Fine, but I get to take a picture of your license plate.”

“Honestly, I think that’s a bit creepy, but if it floats your boat, then deal.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not creepy. It’s called being safe. I literally just met you.”

“And I still don’t know your name, four eyes.”

You sighed heavily before tilting your head up to look at him fully. “Y/N.”

He tilted his head. “I didn’t have you pegged as a(n) Y/N.”

“I didn’t pick it out.” You shivered when the wind blew by you in your entirely drenched clothes. “Can we go to your car now?”

“Shit, sorry.” He said quickly, taking off his coat as he did so. “Here, do you want my jacket? You’re freezing.”

You nodded, grabbing his wet jacket. Glancing down at the embroidered insignia on the chest, you then looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “You’re on the debate team, Jefferson?

“Oh, yeah. I don’t normally wear that.” He took out his keys and pressed a button. Lights flashed from somewhere down the street.

“I don’t understand why the debate team has their own jackets. I mean, it’s not like you’re on a sports team.”

“Well you’re wearing it, so why don’t you say thank you? Here, I’ll help, it goes like this: ‘Thank you soooo much, Thomas. You’re the best! And you’re really hot too.’” He smirked and started walking to his car.

You rolled your eyes as you followed him. “I don’t talk like that.”

“Sure you don’t, four eyes.”

You pushed him to the side and he stumbled a few steps.

“You’re very mean to the guy who’s helping you,” he mumbled after he regained his composure.

“You keep forgetting: I never asked for your help.”

“Well, we also didn’t ask to be alive, but here we are.”

“Funny.”

“I know,” he said as you finally got to his car.

You walked to the front and took out your phone, taking pictures of his license plate and the make and model of his car.

Seriously? This guy had a Tesla? No wonder he’s so confident.

Smirky watched you with an unreadable look on his face as he leaned against the passenger side door. “You know, most of the serial killers on Criminal Minds are white guys. Odds of me being one are slim to none.” You walked over and snapped a picture of him. “Saving it for later?”

“No. It’s in case the police need to ID you,” you said with a cheery smile.

He rolled his eyes and opened the door for you. “Get in, four eyes.”

“Aw, what a gentleman. Thanks, Smirky Guy.” You said with a smirk and got into his car.

He closed the door with another roll of his eyes and jogged to the other side to get in himself.

“How do you have such a nice car? Do you not have student loans?”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he pulled out of his parking space. “My parents are rich.”

“Your parents?”

“Obviously, I don’t make that much money if I’m still in college.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You pulled his jacket more tightly around you and definitely did not smell it. “Most guys with rich parents will just say that they’re rich.”

“Well,” he grinned, turning to you for a second, “I’m not most guys.”

“Clearly.”

A couple moments of silence passed before Thomas spoke up with another smirk glued to his face.

What was up with this guy and smirking non-stop?

“Hey, Y/N,” he started.

“What?”

“Can you help me reconfigure my GPS system?” He asked, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“You don’t know how to get to your own apartment? Wow, Jefferson.”

“No, I need directions to get to your heart.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s the cheesiest one yet.”

“You love it. Don’t deny it.”

“Actually, I’m lactose intolerant so nope.”

“Are you really?”

“No.”

“You know, I think I’m learning more about you from your comebacks than from you actually outright telling me.”

“It’s almost like I don’t like sharing things about myself to people I know nothing about.”

“That’s not true, four eyes. You know a lot about me.”

“I know you’re a self-centered, egotistical guy who thinks he knows everything.”

“Are you always this mean?”

“Only when I’m stressed and sleep deprived.”

“Maybe we should find a way for you to relax, then.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What kind of way are you thinking?”

“Well, you’re obviously freezing cold right now, so I’d suggest getting you a change of clothes and a hot shower to warm you up.”

“Hmm…”

“I’ll edit your paper while you’re taking a shower. And make real food. Then we could watch a movie or something.” He glanced over at you before turning back to the road.

“My paper’s not even done yet. That’s the whole reason I was in the library, dummy.”

“Dummy? What are you, five?” He echoed you. “Look, I’m trying to be helpful. You’ve made it increasingly clear that I’ve ruined your day and I’m trying to fix it. Can you at least be nice to me?”

“I can try.” You crossed your arms over your chest. Your white shirt was drying in the heat of the car but it was still damp. “You’re not exactly making it easy, you know.”

“How am I not making it easy for you?” He asked, stopping the car at a red light and turning to look at you. His gaze flickered down to your chest for a moment before it went back up to your eyes.

“First of all, my eyes are up here, Smirky.”

He rolled his eyes and started to drive again when the light turned green. “As if you weren’t checking me out earlier.”

Your cheeks heated up slightly, knowing exactly what he was referring to, before you turned to look out the window. “Yeah, you’re right. I wasn’t.” You snapped back at him.

“What were you looking at, then?” The corner of his lips quirked up into yet another smirk.

“Your purple shirt that really isn’t your color, even though you most likely think it is.”

Thomas scowled. “I’ve never had someone be this mean to me before.”

“Aw, did I hurt your feelings?”

“No,” he said, pulling into a parking garage.

You laughed and quirked an eyebrow at him as he pulled into a reserved parking space. “That’s your best comeback? I thought you’d be more fun to mess with, Jefferson.”

“Is that the only reason you came with me?”

“Mostly, yeah.” You grinned. “But I really do need to get this paper done.”

“You’ll have to come inside for that. Think you can handle it?”

“I’ll come in if you agree to stop smirking.”

In response, he smirked at you and opened his door to get out of the car. “If I did, what would you call me then?”

“Annoying Guy with the Purple Shirt.”

“Funny.” He stepped out of his car and leaned down to look at you. “You coming, or what?”

You got out of the car and followed him to his apartment. “That was a great opportunity to make a sex joke you just wasted.”

“I thought you didn’t want to hear my pickup lines anymore,” he asked as he unlocked the door.

“Find one that I haven’t heard before and we’ll talk, Jefferson.”

“Challenge accepted.”

He took your bag off your shoulder and placed it on a couch when you walked in.

“What are you doing?”

“I did promise you a hot shower, didn’t I?”

“And what will I change into?” You crossed your arms over your chest again.

“I’ll give you something, don’t worry.”

You eyed him carefully, not knowing if you should trust him, before you looked around. “Where’s your shower?”

Thomas gestured for you to follow him before he led you to his bedroom.

“Woah there, Jefferson. I asked for your shower, not your bed.” You said before he rolled his eyes.

“I have a bathroom in my bedroom, smartass.” He said, opening a door that led to a decently sized bathroom.

He stood back to let you go in then walked back to his room to grab some clothes for you to change into. Coming back with a light gray t-shirt and some sweatpants, he held them out to you.

You took them and looked between him and the shower.

“You can shower in peace, four eyes. I’ll be dutifully editing your paper and cooking dinner.” He smirked at you. “I’ll see you naked some other way.”

You rolled your eyes at his retreating back. “What a gentleman.”

You mumbled profanities under your breath directed at Thomas as you closed the bathroom door and got in the shower.


You breathed out a short laugh as you pulled on the clothes Thomas had let you borrow. That morning, if you were to tell yourself that you’d be showering in a stranger’s bathroom by the end of the day, you wouldn’t have believed it. Yet, here you were, in Thomas Jefferson’s bathroom, wearing his clothes.

You kept your hair down to dry and exited the bathroom to find the owner of your new clothes. Sitting with his back to you on the sofa, you saw Thomas’s hair had been swept up into a bun and he was intently reading your paper on your laptop in front of him. You leaned against the doorway to watch him as he occasionally typed something, brow furrowed.

He really was attractive, wasn’t he, you thought.

As if he could hear you, Thomas turned around and greeted you with a smirk. “I see you’re enjoying the view again.”

“Shut up and edit my paper, Jefferson.”

He chuckled before he shifted his eyes back to the laptop screen. “There’s actually not much to edit. This paper is pretty good.” He turned to look back at you again, this time not so subtly letting his eyes roam your figure. “Great, actually.”

“I love the tone of surprise.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be surprised. Anyone who can keep up with me verbally would no doubt have the skills to write an excellent paper.”

“Well, you should know that flattery will get you everywhere.”

He smirked and his eyes raked over your body again. “Is that so?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed before you crossed your arms across your chest with a smug grin. “Are you sure you’re not the one that’s enjoying the view, Smirky?”

His eyes snapped to yours, the smirk still evident on his face. “What makes you think that, four eyes?”

Your face dropped into a deadpanned look as you let your arms fall back to your sides. “Are you really going to keep calling me that?”

“As long as you call me ‘Smirky Guy,’ I’m calling you ‘four eyes.’”

You rolled your eyes. “At least my nickname is accurate.”

“Really? Are you, or are you not, wearing glasses right now?”

You huffed and plopped down on the couch next to him. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

A familiar smell drifted into the room, making you sniff the air. “Are you making mac and cheese,” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. “I thought I was getting, what did you say, ‘real food?’” You used air quotes to rile him up.

He sent you a light glare. “It is real food. The best fucking real food you’ll ever taste. I made it from scratch.

“Trying to impress me, Jefferson?”

“Is it working?”

“Not really.”

“Then, no.” He said. “I’m just trying to prove a point.”

You laughed. “I can’t wait for the day when you actually succeed at that.”

“Well then you are in luck, my dear.” He said, standing up from the couch and putting your laptop on the coffee table. “Because today is that day. I make the greatest macaroni and cheese in the world.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Chef Boyardee.”

“I’m actually insulted.” He put a hand over his heart, before making his way to the kitchen.

You followed and hopped up on his counter when you reached the kitchen. “I didn’t know you could make mac and cheese from scratch.”

He looked at you with his jaw open. “You’re kidding.”

“Hey, I live in the dorm. The closest I get to homemade is Kraft.”

“You poor, poor thing.”

You rolled your eyes and watched him as he removed the food from the oven. Thomas put the macaroni and cheese on the counter and you had to admit, it looked pretty damn tasty.

The next thing you knew, a bowl full of the dinner was handed to you with a fork.

“Do you normally eat sitting on your kitchen counters?”

“No, but I want you to try it right now. Just so I can prove my point.”

You rolled your eyes but there was no bite behind it. You found him amusing. “Of course you do.”

“Try it.” He dragged out the last syllable as if he was a kid begging for candy.

“You’re just gonna watch me as I eat?”

“Y/N?”

“What?”

“Eat the damn food.”

“Fine.” You huffed, taking your fork and stabbing some of the pasta before putting it in your mouth.

The flavor of the dish erupted across your taste buds, making you lightly hum in content. A grin spread itself out on Thomas’s face as he watched you with amused eyes.

“Told you.” He said before digging into his own bowl on the island across from you.

You swallowed and hopped down from your perch on the counter. “As fun as this is, I still have two more pages to write.”

You made your way back to Thomas’s living room and sat yourself on the floor in front of the small table that held your laptop. You heard footsteps behind you and felt his legs against your back as he sat directly behind you on his sofa.

“Why sit on the floor when you have a couch a couple of inches away?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I figured you’d want to be able to read over my shoulder.”

“Beautiful, witty, and smart. Wow.”

“Charming,” you mused, “now if you’d let me concentrate so I could finish my paper, that’d be great.”

“As long as you eat while you write, I’ll be quiet.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.” You murmured, eating another bite of the mac and cheese while staring at your laptop screen.

Thomas grinned widely when you called him by his first name, but you were too concentrated on your paper to see it.

You ate as you furiously typed at your paper, back into your deep concentration mode. You barely noticed the sounds of your breathing or the feeling of Thomas’s legs against your back as you reached your conclusion paragraph.

“Oxford comma,” Thomas noted quietly.

You breathed out a laugh, tilting your head back against his knees to look at him. “You’re seriously correcting grammar right now instead of the content itself?”

“Oh, no the content’s great. I’m just saying that you forgot the comma.”

You closed your eyes and rested that way for a moment, trying to get the light spots that came from staring at your computer too long to go away. When you opened your eyes again, you found Thomas staring at you.

“What?”

He shook his head and a few curls slipped out of his bun. “Nothing. I just don’t understand how you can look good from an upside down angle.”

You blushed and moved your head off his knees. “Shut up, Smirky,” you mumbled.

It wasn’t long before you finished typing the last sentence to your conclusion.

“I need your wifi password to submit my paper.”

It was Thomas’s turn to blush and he mumbled something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“ilovemacandcheese321,” he stated more clearly.

“Seriously?” You laughed, typing the password in. “That’s, like, the weakest wifi password ever created. You’re gonna get hacked.”

“Well, I’m not gonna have my wifi password be something that’s not true.”

“Of course not,” you grinned. “Hey, at least you didn’t use 123.”

He stayed surprisingly silent as you pulled up your email on your browser.

“Wanna read the last few pages before I email it?” You tipped your head back against his knees again.

“Yeah, let me see.” He said holding out his hand for your laptop.

You handed it to him and got up to sit next to him on the sofa. He stared at the screen with a furrowed brow, his fingers subconsciously tapping a beat on the mouse pad. You leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder as you watched him make small grammatical edits to your conclusion.

A small smile pulled at your lips when you felt Thomas’s breath hitch the moment you came into contact with him.

“You okay,” you asked him quietly.

“Fine,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Silence consumed the room for a couple minutes before Thomas finally finished, handing the laptop back to you.

“Looks great,” he said, “I think you’re ready to submit it.”

“Thanks, Thomas.” You yawned as you took your laptop from him, saving the document. “I guess you’re not the jackass I thought you were.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Shut up, it’s a compliment.”

Thomas was quiet for a couple of moments as he watched you to email your paper to your professor. You breathed out a ‘finally’ before placing your laptop on the couch cushion beside you. Smirking to himself, Thomas quickly snatched you up and carried you to his bathroom.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You were suddenly wide awake.

“You’re hurt, you must be.” His voice was full of panic. “We might need to call an ambulance.”

What? Are you crazy?”

Thomas quickly opened his cabinet and took out his first aid kit before opening it and getting band-aids of different shapes and sizes.

“You have to be hurt from that fall.”

“What fall? What the fuck, Jefferson?”

“Your fall,” he said before a wide smile cracked his serious expression. “You must have at least scraped your knees when you fell for me.”

There was a moment of silence as you processed his words and then you punched his shoulder. “Douchebag! I was seriously worried about your mental health.”

He grinned, rubbing his shoulder. “Come on, that was a good one.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing down at the torn open first aid kit. “You’re very confident of yourself when we haven’t even gone on a date yet.”

Thomas’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Um, what?”

“What?”

“You said yet, as in, it hasn’t happened but it will.”

You shrugged. “It’s your move, Jefferson.”

He sent you another confused look.

“Holy shit, you are dumb.” You fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him closer so you could connect your lips with his.

You felt him lightly gasp at the sudden contact before a familiar smirk splayed across his lips. As he began to kiss back, his hand came up to cup your cheek, making the kiss surprisingly sweet.

Thomas pulled away before the kiss could go any further. “So you were into the pickup lines the whole time.”

You shoved his shoulder playfully. “Excuse me for prioritizing my education over the hot guy hitting on me.”

He grinned. “You think I’m hot?”

“Shut up and ask me out before I change my mind about letting you.”

He quickly came up with a response. “Friday night. Dinner and a movie, on me. Dress nice. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know where I live.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll figure it out when I drop you off tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“It’s already midnight.” He glanced out the bathroom window. “And it’s still raining. Plus, I can’t eat the rest of that mac and cheese by myself.”

“Mm, not convincing enough.” You wrapped your legs around his waist sneakily.

“We could watch movies,” he murmured, his eyes subconsciously flickered to your lips.

“Only if I get to pick the first one.”

“Deal, on one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

He smirked. “Kiss me.”

“If you insist, Smirky.”

“Oh, I do, four eyes.”

“Well, who am I to deny you,” you grinned and kissed him.

Imagine Sam finding your daughter talking to Sully

“I’m telling you, she’s talking to herself.”

Sam laughed as you walked back into your bedroom, a towel around you as you dried your hair.

“I’m not kidding,” you told him. “I just walked by her room on the way from the shower, she’s chatting away to herself in there. Talking through the plot of Moana.”

You allowed yourself a small laugh at that. The kid was obsessed with that movie.

“Do you want me to check on her?” he asked, and you shrugged. “Alright.”

He kissed your cheek on his way to Katie’s room.

“An’ then she was the chief an’ then they all went voyagering on the ocean,” your daughter was saying, and Sam laughed slightly until he heard an all too familiar voice respond.

“They were voyagers? For real?”

Sam pushed the door open, frowning when he saw his old imaginary friend sat on the floor with his daughter, playing with Lego.

“Sully?” he asked, confused, and the two of them looked up at him. “What- ah, what-?”

“Daddy!” Katie gasped, “You can see him?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah sweetie. Can I speak to him alone for a sec?”

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A sweet favour

Pairing: Reader x Girl x Jungkook
Genre: Smut
Summary: Jungkook needed a little help from you and your girlfriend.(boy i’m the worst at summaries - shoot me.)
Words: 3,5k

„This is so embarrassing,“ Jungkook muttered and looked away. You didn’t think this night would turn out to be like this, nor did you thought that it would end even crazier. But that you didn’t know yet. For now, you were sitting next to Jungkook, listening to him talking about his ex-girlfriend.

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Stealing

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Request:  23 + 30 + 53 with Peter please? :)

A/N: I started doing summaries lol anyways sorry this is late anon! but it is here so hi

#23: Is that my shirt?

#30: Do you think you could just please go one day without pissing me off?

#53: Shh… I’m sleeping.

Originally posted by sincerelysaraahh

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Sugaring Up-Keep for the Transition From Cute to BOMBSHELL.

*I upgraded my makeup, because my face is my baby and I need no imperfections.
- I’m a darkskinned Black woman with sometimes oily skin; I use Miracle serum before a moisturizer and BOOM! no oily/greasy makeup.

* I bought a few lingerie sets from VS. Just to make myself feel good. Also, a kimono, BECAUSE WHY NOT?

*I bought new outfits from the Sale section at A'Gaci, Charlotte Russe, and FashionNova. If it didn’t fit I sent it back. I picked up accessories from thrift stores. 😁

*Gel nails! Gel nails! Gel nails! With a classic pedicure once a month. Wax every 3 weeks. Eyebrows threaded.

*Brazilian hair - wig acquired; so I don’t have to worry about my own hair.

*I FEEL LIKE A GODDESS! I attribute the first three costs, as a start-up; and then the last 2 are reoccurring monthly fees. I’m a really good financial planner; so I stay ready. I keep tabs of every CENT that goes in and out. I know my monthly goals. I WORK HARD FOR THE MONEY.

*Before I started sugaring, I may have gotten a glance from men as I walked by. Now, they actually stop and stare. Or stop and actually talk to me. At least once a day, a man stops me to tell me, how gorgeous I am. 😭😂

*Moral of the story: to be a vixen, you just need to be cute and then have money. 😂😂😂

*A POT told me last night. He liked the “cute, girl, without makeup, contacts, and a wig.” I told him, I like who I am now. This is who I always wanted to be. I want to be a trophy wife one day. Once I said that. He changed his tune and said if I put my mind to it, EASY MONEY. LMAO.

Imagine detective Dean Winchester flirting with you while working on your case.

“I have to see him!” you raised your voice as the policeman refused to let you pass.

“M'am I told you, detective Winchester cannot see you now. He’s busy!” he repeated what he had told you just a few seconds ago and you glared at him.

“I heard you the first time! But I’m telling you I need to see him!” you insisted, trying to push him aside but still glaring at him as he grabbed onto your arm and wouldn’t let you go.

“M'am please don’t make me use force to make you leave. Understand that he is busy!” he was obviously getting annoyed as well but it wasn’t your fault he couldn’t understand.

“I know that very well-” you almost growled “But he’s told me I can come to him anytime I want to see him. And I am not playing here! This is about a case!” you tried pushing past him but he wouldn’t budge.

“Mam!” his voice rose, scaring you for a moment “I told you he cannot see you now, he is busy! And if it is about a case then there are plenty of other officers to talk to!”

“But you don’t understand!” you raised your own voice “Dea- Detective Winchester is the one taking care of it! Please just let me in for even a second and you’ll see for yourself!” you insisted but he wouldn’t have any of it.

“Miss enough!” he shouted, practically pushing you and making you stumble “I told,you cannot see the detective now that-”

“What the hell is going on here?” Dean’s voice clearly laced with anger caught both of yours attention. The policeman’s grip on you loosened for a moment and you found the opportunity to slip from his arms and ran straight to Dean.

Being the damsel in distress was not your thing but this week had been one of the hardest of your life. You had tried putting off going to Dean for your case again but at this point you thought you were almost going crazy, you needed answers and at the same time… his comfort. His arms were like a small heaven to you that you’d found in your darkest times. And at the moment you needed it more than anything. So without even thinking you crashed right into his arms, and he didn’t miss a second to hold you tightly to him.

“Hey!” the policeman protested, angry at you but didn’t do anything to pull you away from Dean’s embrace “Sorry detective, she just wouldn’t stop asking to see you. I told her you were busy but she wouldn’t have any of it.” he said to Dean as he pointed at you, giving you a glare.

But it was nothing compared to the one Dean shot him “And why didn’t you let her in the first time?”

“Wh-what?” he blinked “You were busy, you have been talking with-”

“That’s not a fucking excuse!” Dean roared and you too felt scared for a moment “Let me make it clear for ya Josh, and let everybody else know. Whenever (Y/n)- Miss (Y/l/n) comes asking for me you will let her in, even if I’m talking with the fucking president of the US, got it?”

“Uh ye-yeah- yes sir, got it.” he lowered his head as Dean mumbled a rough ‘Good’ to him.

“Oh and Josh, next time you or anyone decides to use force on her to make her do anything- anything she doesn’t want-” he clenched his jaw, taking a look around him as everyone was practically watching in grave silence, fear written over most of their faces “-I’ll make sure you won’t be allowed to hold a gun not even on Halloween, much less fire you.” he said seriously and for a moment you looked down, feeling guilty for being the reason to all this trouble.

“Come on.” he whispered more softly to you, his hand rubbing the small of your back as you bit your lower lip and walked with him; not daring to look around you. You could feel the stares of everyone on you already, just as you could hear the whispers especially from those assistants that you’d gotten to meet over the couple times you’d been at the police station for your case.

“I’m sorry” you finally breathed out as you got inside his office, pulling away from him and slumping down on a chair.

“Sweetheart-” he sighed, kneeling in front of you and soon cupping your face, making you look him in the eyes “-You don’t get to apologize, alright? Never.”

“I’m just-” you bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to get distracted by how good he looked in that blue button-up shirt with his dark tie loose around his neck. You spotted his long black coat hanging somewhere and for a moment you got carried away thinking how good he looked in that too.

You shook your head, brushing away all of the thoughts as you fidgeted with your hands “I just really needed to see you, that’s all. I didn’t think I- I’d cause such a mess.” you mumbled and he shook his head.

“You’re not causing a mess, you never are, beautiful.” he leaned to kiss your forehead, making a blush creep up your cheeks “It’s better now that they know how to treat you. Come on, relax now. Want something to drink?” he asked, already getting up to get you something.

“Just some coffee if you’ve got.” you said softly and he nodded his head “I drink it-” you started again but he cut you off.

“I know.” he grinned softly “I remember.” he sounded proud “Here” and he handed you a cup, proving you right on what he’d said.

“Hm you really do.” you bit your lip and he grinned.

“I wouldn’t be such a good detective if I wasn’t conservative or didn’t have a good memory.” he shrugged and you hummed in agreement “Especially about things that interest me.” he added softly, sitting right next to you.

Your eyebrows shot up and a small smirk formed on your lips. Not even five minutes with Dean and you were already loosening up and relaxing, forgetting about what troubled you and what occupied not only your day but also night.

“And the way I drink my coffee interests you?” you asked shyly and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“The coffee? No, I’m not interested in the coffee.” he gave you an adorable grin, making you frown for a second.

“But?”

“I’m interested in you.” he said honestly, biting his lip softly and making you thankful that you were sitting because your knees already felt weak.

“Detective-” you started but stopped when you saw a disappointed look take over his face.

“I thought we were clear on this, (Y/n). It’s Dean for you.” he stated softly and you nodded your head with a small smile “But- it’s probably not the time to talk about it. Is it?” he noticed how reserved you were, more so than usual and he frowned deeply.

“Well actually-” you started but pursed your lips, stopping yourself.

“What is it?” he asked in a low voice, protectiveness taking over “Because I’m guessing you’re not here just for my charming smile and pretty eyes.” he chuckled, managing to make you ease up a little bit.

“Well, although that is a good enough reason-” you smiled slightly, not meeting his eyes as you felt your cheeks burn at his mere gaze “It’s not just that, no.”

“Tell me what’s going on?” he asked, tugging a few strands of hair behind your ear as his hand rested on the back of your neck.

“I-” you trembled slightly as you thought about it. Talking with Dean, being in his presence and his arms you felt safe and comfortable. Like it was just the two of you and you didn’t have to worry about anything. But reality was much more cruel.

“I think she’s back Dean.” you admitted, looking up at him with eyes laced with tears and fear, shock written over his face as well soon turning into anger and defense.

“And she’s coming for me.”

Frost (Chapter Three)

So I feel like this chapter is maybe a little boring… but it’s the first real interaction between Tony and Loki and the first stepping stone into their relationship, so I didn’t want to leave it out! Let me know what you guys think :)

If you want to be added to the tag list hit up my ASK BOX.

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

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

“Forgive me.” Loki stopped in his tracks a few steps into the library and bowed stiffly. “I was not aware that you were in here.”

“No it’s fine.” Tony waved him in, barely looking up from his book. “Come in. It’s a big library, you won’t even notice I’m here.”

“I highly doubt that.” Loki bared his teeth in something resembling a smile and started backing away. “I’ll leave you to your reading.”

“No, seriously.” Tony put his book down, frowning over Loki’s odd comment. “This is your library, not mine so–”

“As the consort of the King, it is in fact your library. I have plenty of books in my room to read.” Loki raised his eyebrows. “I will not intrude on your quiet. Good day, Sir Anthony.”

“Do you not like me?” Tony asked, sounding irritated and Loki’s eyes snapped shut, trying to hide the panic that filled them.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” he said through clenched teeth.

“No?” Tony challenged. “Because the other day in my room you said that I reacted to you the same way I react to my–” his throat moved as he swallowed uncomfortably. “–to the team. And at first that made me mad but then I sort of– well I don’t like that. I don’t like that I still react that way. I thought I was over all of it and it turns out I’m not. Not completely anyway, and I don’t like that. But it’s not that I equate you with them, I just– we have a weird past, you know?”

“Yes, I was told it took months for you to even be comfortable around Thor, much less comfortable around your Avengers. However, I’m sure whatever I said can be ignored as I actually have no opinion either way about how you act around me or any other person on Asgard. I was simply trying to get a rise out of you, and it has worked perfectly.” Loki kept his tone cool, his posture relaxed even though he felt like screaming.

Why was the mortal so upfront about everything? Why did he seem to take to heart everything Loki said? And more than that, why did it seem as if he was upset that Loki thought he was uncomfortable when they were together?

“Look.” Tony sighed. “Look. All I’m saying is, I don’t like that you said that. I don’t look at you like I look at my team. If anything, I don’t understand why I want to—”

No no no no no. Loki did start to panic then. The last thing he needed was this mortal bringing up the odd draw between the two of them, the way they couldn’t seem to not look at each other. He did not need a question about the Hjartslattur bond and he did not need to be standing here talking about anything even remotely related to it.

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Missing Sweater

Summary: Bucky keeps complaining about how he can’t find a certain navy-blue sweater of his. Until he goes to your room and finds you curled up watching Netflix on your bed, wearing a certain sweater. (idea by the amazing, Kathrynn, @james-bionic-barnes)

Author’s Note: Props to my girl Kath for letting me write out this fic from the lovely idea she had in mind. Hope you enjoy, folks! :)

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The Arrangement

Originally posted by dean-sam-winchesterbros

Summary: in an AU where the Winchester family owns a multi-million dollar company, Dean’s in a bit of a pinch. Grandpa Samuel is threatening to cut him off if he doesn’t straighten out and stop getting into trouble. Instead of taking some responsibility, Dean comes up with an ingenious plan: find someone to pretend to be his girlfriend. You and Dean have never gotten along, but a fake relationship seems to be beneficial to you both…

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,700

Warnings: language, general rudeness (from Dean), mild angst?

A/N: so this is my new idea for a series! It’s all my brain will do right now. It’s a little rough right now, but I’m hoping you guys like it. Also the title is terrible but it’s all I could come up with.

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It’s Hard to Balance | Part ii

Description: With her sudden separation from her mother, the Reader feels more free than she has ever been with her new family. Although, being a Stark is going to present a dozen other problems, one being that her secrets are going to be a little harder to keep. But with the missing half of the team her family assuring her she’s not alone, and her upcoming date with Peter Parker, things are really starting to look up.

Words: 3,263 (yikes)

Notes: I have no idea where this series is going, but I do know that it’s fun to write.

Characters: Michelle “MJ” Jones, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson.

Ships: Avengers x Superpowered!Reader, Peter Parker x Superpowered!Reader

Masterlist


THREE MONTHS LATER

“Yeah,” You said softly into the phone,”Tony’s adopting me. She gave me up as soon as they told her.” The memory of your mother’s disbelieving hiss echoed in your mind, ringing louder and louder,”Starling.” She scoffed,”Yes, I’m sure my disappointment of a daughter is a superhero. Funny.”

Steve silenced her voice with his own,”Look on the bright side,” He suggested, deep voice not quite real over the phone,”You’ll have everything you’ll ever need with Tony. He loves you, I love you, the whole team loves you. You’re basically our kid, and now it’s just in official writing.”

You sniffled,”Yeah, that’s true. He keeps shoving the idea of a vacation to Hawaii in my face. It’s nice, though I would rather stay here and protect the city.” You could hear your mentor and older brother smile crookedly, the cold telephone even colder against your face in the winter weather,”And I’m guessing you’re staying in school? Figured Tony would want you homeschooled…”

“For stupid reasons, but yes.” You laughed, pulling your sweater tighter around your figure.”Hey, that’s good! School’s important, even if you’re staying there for stupid reasons.” Steve reminded, background voices on the other end becoming louder. Before the phone was taken from him, you asked tentatively,”How is he?”

Sighing out of his nose, Steve thought of his best friend,”He’s still under. But they’ve figured out a way to repair his memories while he’s sleeping. By the time he wakes up, he’ll be the man I knew before.” You smiled, elated to hear the news,”Perfect. You guys wake him up every once in awhile, right? Tell him I said hi.” You requested.”Sure thing. Here, Wanda wants to talk to you.” There was a small commotion on the other end as people argued over who would talk to you next, and you grinned, bigger than you’d ever grinned in months. So this is what it felt like to have a family that loved you.

Wanda laughed,”” In Sokovian as soon as the phone came into her hands. You laughed with her, face brightening,”” You responded just as eagerly. She grinned proudly,”You have been learning more, I see.” You went on to explain you had a school project involving foreign countries. You’d chosen Sokovia and researched more words to impress her.

“Vell, I’m definitely impressed. How are things vith that cute boy you like?” Wanda pried, accent coming through in her vibrant excitement. You flushed, remembering the events that were to take place soon,”Okay, um, don’t tell anyone… but… I may have a date with him in a few days.” You admitted. She emitted a loud, happy squeal,”Oh, Y/N! The next time ve speak, you are telling me everything!”

After you relayed to Clint how his family was doing, informed Sam that you had eaten all of his snacks, and assured that Scott’s daughter was fine, you walked the rest of the way to school. You’d never been happier.

You got a package today, kid. - Tonironi

And why is my name Tonironi on your phone? Lame. - Tonironi

You retrieved your new Stark Tech phone from your pocket, the next song on your playlist beginning as you answered the message. You finished typing it as soon as your shoes hit the grass of the football field, a passing group of girls looking in your direction and whispering frantically. News had spread quickly that you were being adopted by Tony Stark, the mystery of Starling’s secret identity unraveling with the story.

Who from? And if someone read my texts and saw your real name, they’d freak. - You

You ducked as a football sailed over your head, nearly striking a band kid in the face. This brought laughter from the popular portion of the crowd heading inside the building. You pulled out your earbuds and put them away, taking your usual route to get to your locker. You paused at the mural at the entrance, painted by the Art Club a few years before you came to the school. Einstein, Tesla, and many others coated the walls.

It doesn’t have a name or return address, just the Wakandan seal. - Tonironi

And hey! I made that phone myself! It’s got a passcode, fingerprint identification, retinal scanner, and like 2,000 other things! No one is going to break in and read your texts - Tonironi

You stared at the mural, at the faces of Abraham Erskine and Howard Stark. To think, you knew three people who had met each of them. But you had to double take at the text, The Wakandan seal? This had to be what Sam mentioned on the phone; in Wakanda, it was customary to welcome an adopted child into the family with a care package. Sam also added,”We hid something for you in there. They’re not gonna find it, so you’ll have to.”

Knowing Tony was already having a security team go through it, you nodded, hoping that this wouldn’t get your family caught. You weren’t sure if you wanted them found or not, either.

Gotta head to class, Tony. See you soon. - You

You smiled at the following text,

Stay safe, kid. Have a good day. - Tonironi

You replied with a quick you too, before nearly walking into the person at your locker.”Texting a boy?” MJ guessed, closing her copy of The Manchurian Candidate. You made a face as you entered your combination into the lock,”Ew, no. I was texting my…” You stopped, trying to consider what to call Tony,”… Dad.”

“Tony Stark, right? Because that’s what everyone’s been saying.” MJ said “Tony Stark” like it was a joke, smirking as she raised an eyebrow. You deposited your books inside your locker, breath catching in your throat once you saw the note. Pretending it wasn’t there, you took it and your books and folded them into your arms.

“Yeah, it’s… my month’s been crazy, MJ.” You summarized, indicating you’d tell her at lunch. She trailed you down the hall, the first bell ringing,”You’re shitting me. I thought you were joking when you said your mom kicked you out.”

“Yeah, well, she did. They told her, and she didn’t want me.” You whispered to her. A boy ran into your shoulder, dodging around you without an apology. MJ flipped him off as you kept walking in tandem,” She knows you’re Lumin?” MJ hissed. You jogged up the steps, the pressure bookbag against your shoulder nothing in comparison to the pressure you’d face as a Stark. You nodded solemnly, looking straight forward at the incoming stairs.

“She gave me up immediately. Tony rushed in, and his lawyers took care of it all like it was nothing. The papers will go in on Friday, and then I’ll be Y/N Stark-L/N.” You gave her a soft smile,”It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, to be honest.”

MJ observed your expression, allowing a proud smirk to come over her features,”I’m happy for you. Finally got away from that witch.” You let out an angry sigh at the thought of your mother, adjusting your grip on your books,”Don’t even get me started. For the rest of my life, it’ll be Stark this and Stark that, and I couldn’t be happier.”

“But don’t you know what this means?” MJ’s eyebrows furrowed in concern,”Everyone’s going to make the connection. By next week, everyone will know who you are.”

“No, he’s got a plan, I think. The government would never let him reveal information like that, and Natasha promised me that she’d do anything to protect my identity.” Michelle pushed open the door to your first-morning class, shoulders slouching,”You’re still going to turn into one of the popular kids.” She grumbled. You grabbed her shoulder abruptly, her curls swinging with your sudden use of strength.

No way,” You assured firmly,”You’re like my best friend. I’m not going to turn into one of the things you hate.” You smiled at her, poking her cheek as you slid into your seat,”But I am totally going to buy you a ton of books. As many as I can.” You promised. A smile flickered across Michelle’s face, and she tucked into her own seat at the back of the class without another word.

As class started, you waited until some students were blocking her view of you to open the note. You unfolded it, the handwriting you recognized in every one of your letters popping to life in blue ink. It was written on sketching paper, torn into a rough square and folded into a compact rectangle. T’Challa sent you a bunch of Wakandan spices. I put it in the Saffron.

You took the note under the table, checking for any watching eyes. At the absence of any attention on yourself, you fired a muted blast into the paper and burnt it to ash. Kicking it under your desk, you returned your attention to your teacher.


Concentrated on the book in your hands, your friend was in her own little world. Without a conversation to keep your attention, your eyes wandered around the Gym. Most students were either warming up or on the benches like you and Michelle. Flash was bragging about something to his group of friends, and Ned was, according to your super hearing, psyching Peter up.

“Okay, go over the steps with me.” Ned said after listing off all the things he should do when talking to you.”Uh—compliment her, ask how’s she’s doing, er, say how excited I am for our date, say her name often…” Peter tried to remember, pouting in the way he did when he was thinking,”And then be nice to Michelle because they’re best friends.”

He and Ned then performed a complex handshake. Michelle and yourself exchanged a look, snorting and sniggering when you relayed to her what they had been talking about. Michelle pat your shoulder, wishing you a good luck and sliding away just within ear shot. You found yourself flushing as Peter approached your row on the bleachers, but wiped it off your face the way Natasha taught you.

“Hey,” He greeted softly. You grinned at him, internally cursing yourself for being so eager,”Hey.” Peter took a seat beside you, smiling at you awkwardly in return. You stared at each other uncomfortably for a minute, and you broke the subconscious staring contest with a cough. Adjusting your hair, you rubbed your exposed legs nervously. With a laughed you informed him,”You know I have super-hearing, right?”

Peter’s expression flickered between confusion and then embarrassed understanding,” Ned—Ned, uh, he read an article about talking to girls. He thought I would need the advice, I… uh, guess…” Peter trailed off, coughing and blushing. You pat his knee with a giggle, feeling strangely girly around him. He flushed redder at the contact, clearing his throat and distracting himself with more conversation,”Uh, how are you doing?”

“Well, you got my text. My life’s gotten pretty weird the last few weeks.” You sighed, and Peter perked up, scooching closer to you,”Yeah, yeah, I heard about that… I guess I’ll be seeing more of you, then.” Peter smiled sweetly, making light of the situation as you crossed your arms over your chest shyly. Blinking at him under the harsh light coming from the gymnasium windows, you leaned in a little closer to his face so no one else could hear,”And I’ll still be seeing more of you on Friday, Spidey.”

Peter leaned in too, his breath sending the particles floating in the sunlight fluttering off. At the sudden realization of how close you were you both reeled back, him scratching his neck and you carding back your hair. When you turned to stare at him (longingly), you found him already staring. You didn’t look away this time, but he looked down at his lap as he considered what to say.

“You look really nice today,” Peter confessed softly, hesitantly laying a hand on your arm. Your skin prickled pleasantly when his hand came into contact with your skin. You turned your head to avoid confronting his soft eyes, but with a jolt, you shot up your arm and deflected the incoming volley ball.”Y/N!” Peter’s eyes went wide a few moments before the ball was even thrown, hand jumping to the back of his neck to muffle the tingling of his spider-sense. You bat off the ball with the front of your arm, and it struck with a loud slap against your skin. Regardless of the blood prickling under your invincible arm, you were fine.

“At least we know your spider-sense works,” You muttered frustratedly, standing on the bench of the bleachers. Peter followed suit, and your eyes fell upon Flash just as he ducked away from the ball. Wiping off the front of his gym uniform, he laughed up at you,”For a girl, you can really hit!” He snickered.

“Yeah, and for a guy named Flash you can’t run at all!” You retorted sharply, squeezing your fists tightly. You didn’t really have it out for Flash until now, but for the fact that he was a stuck up little rich kid who made fun of Peter because he didn’t have a lot of cash. You really wanted to blast this kid to bits.

A bunch of people hollered at your comeback, surprised the quiet kid in class was so quick-witted. Peter gently tried to pull you into a sitting position, and you followed until Flash pulled the card you were expecting,”Oh yeah, and why don’t you go run back to your new dad, Tony Stark? I’m sure he’d like to hear you’re banging his intern!” His tone was sarcastic, clearly believing you weren’t actually being adopted by Tony Stark.

In quick succession, you spun your finger across your watch, and his caller ID appeared above your wrist on a Stark Tech hologram,”I just might.” You threatened. Caught off guard, Flash couldn’t come up with a response. As for the intern comment, you scowled, leaving it be as Coach Wilson started the class. You shut off your watch, settling down into your seat beside an incredibly embarrassed Peter.

“Those watches haven’t even hit the market yet!” Peter exclaimed in a hushed whisper. You shrunk the screen between you so you could both see, hiding it behind the backs of students as they piled onto the bleachers. With two taps on its screen the Avengers “A” appeared, ready to be clicked to alert Tony, Vision, and Natasha that you were in danger. You closed the program, forgetting the previous conversation entirely as you realized just how much you liked Peter’s blush,”You look really nice today too, Peter.” You told him, before sliding to the other end of the bench to join MJ’s side.


Tony was leaning against one of the glass outer-walls of the Facility, rolling his eyes like a child as a taller man delivered a speech to him. He seemed strict and possibly… homeless, judging by his attire. Tony looked like a child in comparison to the dark skinned man, pouting against the wall and clearly being lectured. You tried to use your super-hearing to hear them, but only caught the tail end of their conversation,”… You can fix this. It’s what you do, Tony.” The man said, briefly looking to the left to glance at you. It was split second, but the eye patch gave it all away as he sharply walked off. The public had yet to know he was still alive, so he kept away from you, exiting with nothing but the flutter of his jacket.

Tony raised his hand in parting, getting off the wall to greet you as he shouted back to Fury,”Good to see you too, Nick!” When Fury didn’t respond, he rejectedly shoved his hands in his pockets and swiveled to you.”Hey, Star-kid! How’s it going?” You relayed to him the events of your day at school, knowing he would want to know everything regardless of how boring it was. You left out the details of the note, but eagerly questioned him as to the whereabouts of your package.

In the Saffron, the note had said.

Tony left for his lab, probably working on upgrading his (or maybe Rhodey’s) suit. Relieved at his sudden absence, you dashed into the living quarters, leaping the steps to the living room platform and dodging toward the dining table. You searched around the room for any of your team members, left with an empty room. You stepped in the way of the security camera as you stared at the package.

Just as Tony had said, the only indication of its origin came from the Wakandan seal; which had been torn when security went through it. You hesitantly reached out to touch it, gently grazing the sleek paper of the stamp. As your finger came into contact with it, the seal alighted, Steve’s typical symbol glowing from underneath it. True, this was a gift from T’Challa, but it was also a gift from the rest of your team.

Pulling open the box, you found it had only been lightly riffled through. You told yourself to be patient, chiding yourself when you reached for the saffron first. But there were other things in the box, too, the true gifts from your family. Something was written in Wakandan on a note resting atop a jar, and below it was a translation; Welcome home, little star.

Finding your eyes watering, you wiped at your face, sliding into the seat at the table to steady your shaking legs. There were plenty of items inside, and all were exotic gifts you could only get if you actually went to Wakanda. It was the Panther figurine that your fingers touched first, gently grazing the black metal to find it was surely made of vibranium. This item alone was maybe a pound or two, and yet was probably worth at least 2 million dollars. Careful to touch it, you gently set it aside, returning to searching through its contents.

There was the Wakandan Flag (red, green, and black, emblazoned with a panther), some  Belgian chocolates, and then the spices. All of the other gifts were personal… there was a Polaroid camera, a necklace, an empty leather-bound notebook, and dozens of other small things. It was then that you couldn’t take it anymore, ripping through the spices and tearing out the jar of Saffron.

Saffron was a reddish, stringy spice, smelling sweet and bitterly sour at the same time. You opened the jar with ease, staring down into its contents questionably. When nothing appeared, you remembered the symbol; you had touched it, and then the shield appeared. So you carefully stuck a finger in the jar, the stinging touch of cold metal greeting the pads of your fingers.

You pulled out the small ring, choking on your own surprised laughter. The Avengers “A” was hinged to the top of the ring. Out fell a piece of paper when you opened the small crevice, which had been covering a small button within the ring’s center. You pulled open the paper, Press it when you need us.

You burned the note between your fingers, light searing it into ash and then smoke under your hand. Taking the box in your arms, you hefted it up the stairs and into your room. Putting the items away, you got to work on your homework, distracted with the safety you hadn’t felt in so long, and the sudden urge to hear Peter Parker’s voice.

Bun in the Oven

Prompt: Can you write an imagine where you’re Jason’s S/O and you tell him you’re pregnant. It could end however you want

Requested by @angstytodd   


You stare at the door over the top of your book. He’s late, and you’re feeling more than a little impatient. Two minutes later, the knob turns and you smile as your husband comes in. He’s wearing a scowl and three piece suit that costs more than your apartment. The first thing he does is loosen his tie. Then, with an amused smile on your face, you watch as he throws it on the floor, and stomps on it.

    You raise an eyebrow, and ask, “Didn’t my mother give you that tie?”

    Jason looks at you, “If she did, then you’re lucky I didn’t put it down the garbage disposal.”

    You laugh before launching yourself off the couch and into his arms. He catches you effortlessly, and you wrap your legs around his waist before kissing him. “Welcome home.”

He smiles, “It’s damn good to be home.”

He carries you into the kitchen and sets you down on the counter. “Rough day?” you ask, as he takes a beer out of the fridge. He offers you one, and you shake your head.

    “You have no idea. I wanted a drink after the first ten minutes. These guys drone on and on and on. ALL in the same monotone voice. I don’t know how Bruce and Dick do it. I’m fairly certain they had something going on though, because they kept smirking.”

    You smile, “Probably placed money on when you’d blow your top.”

    He shrugs, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

    “At least you only have to do it once a year. It won’t kill you.”

    “I’m head of security. I keep that place sealed. Not one break in, even by Selena. That’s what I’m good at. They should just let me send the files to Dick and let that be that.”

    You laugh, “They have to get their jollies somewhere.”

    Jason rolls his eyes, “They laughed for three minutes straight when they saw me in the suit. THREE MINUTES.”

    “I thought you looked dashing. So did mom.”

    He groans, “You sent a picture to your mom.”

    “And dad.”

    His groan deepens, “Damnit, they’re going to start talking office positions.”

    You laugh, “Not a chance. They know better.”

    He kisses you again, and you watch his eyes slide to the oven, where’d you left the light on. He smirks, “You made me something for dinner? How Martha Stewart of you.”
    You smirk, “Mind getting it out for me?”

    “Sure, babe.”

    You watch his face as he opens the door. You watch the confusion wash over him as he realizes it’s not turned on. His brow furrows even deeper as he pulls out a sheet with bun, and a sonogram picture. He carefully sets the tray down on the counter before turning towards you, “You’re…”

    You giggle, “I went to the doctor today,” you pick up the picture, “meet the cause of my upset tummy.”

    A smile blooms on his face, “I’m going to be a daddy?”

    You nod, and he scoops you off the counter. He twirls you around, before setting you down and sinking to his knees. He kisses your tummy and continues to hug you. And you can’t help but think that you want this moment to go on forever. And then, the morning sickness hits.

Wrapped Around; pt.6

Jimin x Reader x Tae // College!AU // 11.8k words 

Originally posted by shinevmin

Summary: Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut

A/N: hur hur finally!!! I always feel horrible for making y’all wait for a month for each chapter haha. also, im running out of appropriate vmin gifs lmaooo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 2.5 | Part 3 | Part 3.5 | Part 4 | Part 5

Previously…

Jimin silently stuffs a spoonful into his mouth and although he had no appetite, the mere thought of this being something you made is enough to push him to forcefully swallow it. He thinks perhaps if he ate enough of it, it could help fill the vague emptiness he felt in his chest but he knew that only one thing could do that and that was you.


“So, he went to the ball with this Mina girl?” Solji asks, her voice slightly fuzzy over the phone speaker.

You let out a low hum of agreement, sinking down onto your bed, the phone still pressed to your ear.

“Because she asked?”

“Yes,” You sigh, setting your phone next to your head after selecting the loudspeaker option on your screen.

“And you had a week to ask him to the ball but you didn’t?”

“Well, I mean… yeah… but whatever, that’s not my point,” You groan. “My point is that he slept with Mina.”

“And is that a surprise to you? You really can’t blame him can you?” She asks. “He probably waited for you to ask him out to the ball and when you didn’t, he assumed you weren’t interested and went for someone else who was.”

“But I am interested,” You grumble, running your hand over your face in frustration.

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Escape: the Bree years

Ifrinn!”  

Jamie turned from the changing table, and marched towards the bathroom holding Bree away from him like hazardous waste material.  He turned on the taps to run a quick bath.  When the temperature was right, he popped her into the tub. 

He took an earbud out, speaking directly to his daughter, Now ye listen here, ye wee gomeral.  I’ll no’ change a nappie again after this. That’s twice ye shit in as many minutes. I have a meeting to listen to!”

Bree stared at her father as he spoke, her clear blue eyes wide.  She slapped a hand down into the water and blinked at the splash that hit her face.

“Jamie?”

He fumbled with his phone to unmute it so he could talk, slipping it back into his pocket.  “Aye. Right here.”

“What do you think?” Jenny asked.

“I agree the numbers look good.  I’m anxious about bottling that blend too early though.  I dinna think we should be -”

Bree’s shriek and subsequent babbling hit the airwaves.  

“Sorry.  Bree says hello.”  Everyone laughed, and Jamie booped Bree’s nose. “Anyway, I dinna think -”

Bree flung her hand again and splashed Jamie in the face.  His wide mouth snapped shut, and he took a calming breath.

“I dinna think we should compromise the quality,” he said quickly and muted the phone again.

“Ye wee besom,” he laughed, and rubbed his nose against his daughter’s.  He finished washing Bree’s bum, rinsed her off, and wrapped her up in a towel.  

As the call wound down, Jamie unmuted, signed off, and pulled the earbuds out of his ears.  

“Listen,” Jamie said, making Brianna focus on him as he diapered her.  “I get yer no’ jazzed about this.  But Mam is a doctor, and she needs to be doctoring.” 

Bree made a razzing sound, then babbled, “Da da da da da,” at him.  

“Aye. Da. That’s me,” Jamie said, pointing at his chest.  “Dinna change the subject, Lass.  So.  We need today to go smoothly so she doesna worry.”  He slipped the onesie over her head. 

“And, nighean bhreagha, we need to really get on, so yer Mam willna fash about me staying home wi’ ye at least two days a week.”  He zipped up her fresh sleeper.

“Otherwise,” he whispered seriously, getting close to her face, “It’s the day nursery for ye.  Where they’ll be holdin’ ye prisoner.”

Bree reached up and grabbed Jamie’s nose.  “Ye ken my meanin’ then.  It’ll stink.”  

Jamie picked up his daughter and turned to head downstairs to his office.  His foot hit something and sent it sliding across the floor.  He bent down to pick it up from where it had flipped open.  He wouldn’t have read it except he saw his name. Glancing through it, he saw it more than once.

His name was on every page.

He felt his stomach flip, and sat down hard in the rocking chair settling Brianna on his lap.  Perusing the journal he read his wife’s daily thoughts.  

“Oh, Claire,” he whispered.


Claire took the bus to the hospital.  She wanted today to be like every other work day before Brianna was born.  She felt it would calm her if she repeated her routine.  

Getting off at her stop she looked over at the big building that was so much a part of her life.  She had missed it.  All of it. While she worried that she was leaving Bree too soon, she also knew that working would be good for her.   

Taking a deep breath she pulled her ID badge out of her bag, hung it around her neck, and headed in.  

She had barely made it into the Employee Entrance when she spotted a pair of red trainers barreling towards her.  The bright red hair from her assailant’s high pony tail whipped around her head, and she was caught up in a bear hug.

“Geillis!” Claire laughed, and hugged her back.  Hard.

“Yer here!”  Geillis gave her one extra squeeze and stepped back to look at her, holding her at arms’ length.  “Dammit, Claire, ye look good!  Have ye seen Dr. Gowan? What did he say?”

“Not yet.  On my way there now,” Claire linked arms with her friend.  “Walk with me and tell me all the gossip.”

Heads bent together the two women moved through the corridor, Geillis talking, and Claire nodding hello at those she knew.

When they got to Dr. Gowan’s office Geillis gave her another quick hug making Claire promise to text her with his decision.  

Sitting in Dr. Gowan’s office was a bit of a homecoming for Claire.  He was Chief of Staff, and Claire’s dealings with him had always been of a positive nature, even when she had been reporting Dr. Randall. 

He sat back in his chair, relaxed and in good spirits.  “Of course, Dr. Fraser, whenever yer ready to come back is fine.  The Emergency ward misses yer excellent skills.”  

Dr. Gowan leaned forward and looked through his bifocals at his computer. “Now, if it’s two days a week ye want, we can set that up.  I’m afraid ye’ll still have to do on call one day a week, and take a shift one weekend a month.”  He raised his eyebrows at her, making sure she knew all she had to consider.

“I understand, Dr. Gowan.  As long as we could make my two days consistent,” Claire said, “just for the sake of scheduling a babysitter.”

“How is yer….daughter?  Have I got that right?”  

“Yes.  Brianna.  And she’s well, thank you.  In fact, I’m heading down to look at our day nursery after our meeting.  I want to see the facility and check on availability for her.”  

She ignored the sharp pang in her stomach.  

“Ah. Weel, I won’t keep ye.  Tuesdays and Thursdays, then. With, of course, yer other duties.  I’ll have yer schedule sent to ye soon.”  He slapped the arms of his chair, and made to get up.

Claire stood and shook his hand feeling relieved, excited and hesitant, all at the same time.


Jamie pulled into a parking spot and sat for a moment thinking.  He thought again of Claire’s last entry in her journal. It was from this morning.  

Looking forward to my meeting with Dr. Gowan this morning, and the appointment to tour the nursery, even though I wish Jamie would come with me.

The part about him was crossed out until it was almost illegible.  Still, it broke his heart.  They were on opposite sides of this topic. Jamie wanted a nanny for Bree.  Claire thought it best their daughter be at the hospital nursery where she could check on her throughout the day.  

Seeing her cross out the words made him realize that while she was trying, he was not.  So, he bundled up Bree and drove over to the hospital.  He owed Claire his time.  It cost him nothing to look at the nursery, and truth be told if he didn’t see it he couldn’t argue against it.  Sighing deeply he opened the door of the car and climbed out.  Gathering Bree from the backseat, he headed inside.

Jamie came through the double doors and turned to the left.  Halfway down the corridor he noticed Claire standing off to the side looking into the nursery window.  

“There’s yer Mam!” Jamie said to Bree, turning her in his arms so she could see her.

“Mamamamamamamamama….”  Bree babbled. 

Claire spun around.  “Jamie!”  He watched as the shock on her face softened into gratitude.  “You came.”

“Aye,” he said, and kissed her quickly on the lips.  “I realized I canna discount something I’ve never seen.  I wouldna do it in business, mo neighean donn, so I shouldna do it at home.”

Claire reached up and brushed a wind swept curl away from Jamie’s forehead, her hand lingering on his cheek.  

Sky blue eyes met amber ones.  

Thank you for coming. For considering my thoughts on this.

I’m sorry for not agreeing to come sooner. 

If there was one thing Claire valued most in her marriage, it was their ability to communicate without words.  

As Jamie passed the baby to her, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.  He smiled as Bree nestled into Claire’s shoulder.  

“Shall we go in?” Jamie asked, hoisting the backpack higher on his shoulder.

“Wait.”  Claire looked through the window again.  

Jamie followed her gaze.  He knew immediately what she was thinking.  He cast around in his mind trying to find a compliment.  

“Tis bright enough!”  That sounded lame, even to him.

Claire turned to look at her husband, disappointment etched in her features. “It’s very crowded.”

Jamie nodded and said nothing.  

“Maybe it’s too soon for me to come back to the hospital.”

“Claire,”  He turned her to face him, his hands resting on her shoulders.  “I ken sometimes ye try to stay…” he paused trying to find the right word.  “Ye try to stay humble, maybe, but I’m no’ ashamed of the fact we can afford a nanny. We work hard, Claire.  And it’s okay to want Bree to stay safe and loved and comfortable in her own home.  And no’ just Bree, but any bairn to come after her.”  

Keeping an arm around her shoulders, Jamie guided his wife towards the door to the parking lot.  

“We can’t just hire anybody, Jamie,” Claire said, looking up at him.  

“Aye. I ken that.”  He made a Scottish noise that indicated he was thinking.  “It will take a while to find a young blonde nanny from Sweden.”

Claire stopped short.  “James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser!” she said and shoved at his chest.   

“Claire?”

Both turned around at the sound of the familiar voice.  “Mrs. Fitzgibbons!”

Claire rushed down the hallway to see her old friend and supervisor.  They embraced warmly.

“Is this yer we’en, Claire?”  At Claire’s nod, Mrs. Fitz cupped Brianna’s head in her somewhat wrinkled hand, smoothing down her hair.  “Och, Claire, she’s the spit of her Da!”

Much to Claire’s surprise Bree launched herself at Mrs. Fitz, arms outstretched. Despite her surprise the older woman reacted quickly, and reached out to hold the bairn.  In no time Bree was smiling and cooing while Mrs. Fitz nodded and talked in a sing-song voice.  

“So,” Mrs. Fitz looked at Claire, “Geillis tells me yer to be back soon.”

Claire smiled, and nodded.  

“And did she tell ye I’ll be retired soon?”  Nurse Fitz turned to hand Bree to her father.  

“What?  No!” Claire took both of Mrs. Fitz’ hands in her own.  “For selfish reasons I wish you weren’t, but I understand.  Congratulations, it’s well earned.”

“Mrs. Fitzgibbons,” Jamie said, his face a polite mask.  “Can I persuade ye to join us for lunch?  Our treat.  Celebrating yer retirement, ye ken.”

Claire looked at Jamie.  His voice held an undertone that she couldn’t quite place.  There was a tilt to his head, and a smile playing around his wide mouth. The slanted clear cat-eyes held a hint of mischief.  What are you up to, you wily Scot?

Equally fascinated by the change in her daddy’s tone, Bree placed her chubby hands on either side of Jamie’s face and strained to look into his eyes. 

Jamie just smiled, and deftly maneuvered all three females toward the door.  

Solare

I literally wrote this at 2 am while I thought about how much I love Tom anyway enjoy this xo

also CRED goes to @peterandchurros (LOVE YOU AVA, FOLLOW HER) and this post


Italy was so different than home, you thought. Or maybe you had just been home for too long - you weren’t used to change. But, when Tom asked you to join him on his Homecoming promotional tour, you couldn’t say no. You weren’t homesick - it was the opposite, really. You had always had a curious nature, which is why you downloaded an app to help you pick up on a few Italian words, just to get you by. You had learned the word for food: cibo. The word water: acqua. The word for direction: direzione. You learned common words for conversation so you could interact when you went exploring. You were packing a bag with essentials to do exactly that today.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait until you’re done?” You felt guilty every time you’d go somewhere without Tom, considering he was the one who invited you. He’d always say he didn’t mind, it made nights for you both special. Because, no matter how tired Tom was, nights after a long day were his favorite; nights were when he had you all to himself.

“Darling,” he’d playfully roll his eyes, “don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want you to get bored sitting alone, or even have you sitting at the interviews. You’d be too close yet too far away.” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, smiling as you walked up to him, draping your arms around his neck. “You’re very pretty, you know that right?” You’d shrug.

“I’ve been told once or twice,” you smiled, leaning up slightly to kiss him. You smiled into it when you felt his arms tighten around your waist, lifting you slightly.

“Ahem,” you both pulled away from each other, looking at Harrison standing at the door. “Sorry, lovebirds,” he walked over to Tom, patting his shoulder. “Laura’s waiting for us downstairs, interview starts in an hour.” Tom nodded, his shoulders slouching. “I’ll wait for you outside of the door, just hurry.” Tom nodded, turning toward you with a small smile.

“Have fun for me today, alright? We’ll do something tonight. Maybe you can find somewhere for us to eat? Dinner date?” You smiled widely, nodding as you pulled him for one last kiss, until tonight. “Love you, baby.” Tom walked over to unplug his phone from the bedside table, kissing you on the cheek on his way out. You sighed contently, picking up your bag and grabbing your phone. You double-checked to make sure you had money and a water bottle, after checking you grabbed the keycard and headed out.

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Try Again

Summary: Derek has to egg a house to be part of the popular group. Too bad the house ends up being the Sheriff’s.

Notes: I couldn’t resist this fake exes AU. This is also my 100th fic, whoo! (On AO3)


Derek knows it’s a bad idea, but he wants to fit in so badly.

Ever since Laura graduated last year, he’s had no one to talk to. Everyone seems set on ignoring him now, glancing away quickly when he catches them looking, and he always ends up sitting alone at lunch.

So he’d joined the lacrosse team, hoping to make some friends, but had discovered that it was full of cliques and in-groups. There were jokes and pranks and even secret handshakes, and Derek felt like more of an outsider than ever.

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