Request: #22, #81, and #19 pleaseeee 😂 I trust that you’ll get creative with this one
Summary: hold still/did you just hiss at me?/you’re Satan. Peter visits you one evening as promised but he arrives late in his Spider-man suit.
You sighed and stood up from your position on the couch and began making your way to your room. Your eyes trailed the ground in front of your feet as you opened the bleached door to your customized room.
“Oh hey y/n,” Your gaze shot up as you jumped at the voice coming from the red and blue clad boy that sat on the floor beside your bed, his back resting against it. He greeted you tiredly, and leaned his head back on your soft mattress that was covered in soft floral sheets. His left arm slung over his abdomen, rising up and down with his panting. The spider-man mask laid on the floor next to him. Two cuts were visible on his face and a purple bruise was slowly showing itself underneath his right eye. His hair disheveled over his forehead, he tried blowing it out of his eye but only more fell back in place, “You should see the other guy,” he uttered to you.
Your heart broke a little at the beaten boy placed in your room. It wasn’t unusual for him to show up in your room at various hours through a day. But seeing him look so shattered wasn’t something you were going to get used to any time soon. “Come on bug-boy,” you called to him softly, reaching your hand out waiting for him to take it, as you stood over his body.
He let out a breathy laugh at your nickname for him and gladly took your hand in his glove covered one.
The two of you trailed into the main bathroom of your apartment where the first aid kit and rubbing alcohol was stored.
Peter hoisted himself onto counter and reclined his head onto the mirror behind him while he waited for you to take care of him. The first time he got seriously injured during one of his crime fighting incidents, he panicked. The first person he thought of was you, so to you he went. It was the best idea he had thought of. You were surprisingly more calm than he thought you’d be. He was nearly hyperventilating when he came to you, so you had tried your hardest to remain calm for his sake.
Peter watched you silently take out the bottle of rubbing alcohol and soak a rag with it. He curled his nose as you began bringing it up to the cut across his cheek bone. He hated the sting that accompanied the necessary care. Before you could wipe the substance covered cloth over his wound, he pulled away, “Peter,” you spoke in a warning tone, “we’ve done this 50 times, you know the routine,”
Peter sighed in response, “Yeah but, the routine hurts,”
“And getting your injuries doesn’t?”
He shot you a gentle glare, and didn’t protest as you brought the cloth back up to his cheek. He muttered a few ‘ow’s as you ran it over both cuts. He sighed in relief as you finished, and resumed his position from earlier and leaned back. Upon his actions, you noticed and slash along his collarbone. Blood had stained the material surrounding it, but it didn’t seem to phase Peter.
You gasped at the size of it, surely Peter would have to go in for stitches. Your sudden change in attitude startled Peter, “What?” he asked frantically.
“Take your suit off,” you told him,
“Why? What?” he questioned you again. His gaze followed yours and he looked down to see the fairly sized cut below his collarbone. His eyes widened at the sight, “Oh. Well that’s new,” he squeaked.
“Take your suit off while I get ice for your eye,” You stated to him as you began to make your way to the kitchen, “What, you don’t wanna stay and watch the show?” he called after you.
You returned with a bag of ice, to see that he had followed your instructions and was now standing in nothing but a pair of boxers. You reluctantly kept your eyes on his brown ones, and handed him the cold plastic bag, “You know you wanna look,” he smirked down at you.
“Shut up and sit,” you chuckled at him, shaking your head. He sighed and sat back on the counter.
“This is going to hurt more than the last ones,” you informed him. His face dropped and he began to whine, “Don’t tell me that,” he pouted.
“As if you didn’t know already,” You said, soaking more rubbing alcohol on the spots that weren’t yet used on the rag, “you shouldn’t even be here, you should be in hospital getting it stitched up,”
“I can’t jus-” you cut him off quickly by unexpectedly placing the rag on his collarbone. You knew he’d hate you for it, but if you gave him any warning, he’d only make it worse. He shouted an ‘ow’ and bit his lip trying to hold back multiple colorful words. He pulled back and hovered his hand over the wound protectively, “That was just evil! That was- you are- you’re Satan!” He exclaimed.
You bit your own lip in an effort to hold back your giggles, “Hold still Peter! It needs to be cleaned,” you stated in laughter.
“This is not funny. This is abuse, I’m gonna have to-” again you cut off his rambling and pressed the cloth back to his chest. This time you pulled away abruptly at a hissing sound. You stared at Peter puzzled, “Did you just hiss at me?” you asked him, taken aback.
There was a moment of awkward silence between you two. He stared at you as he searched his mind for an excuse of any sort but all he came up with was: “No,”
You raised an eyebrow at him and laughed at his ridiculousness, “Stop laughing, this hurts,” he pouted.
You sighed and brought body closer to his, and placed yourself between his legs. Peter placed his forehead on yours, and fluttered his eyes closed.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “but it has to be done,”
“I know,” he agreed softly.
You tilted your head and pressed your lips to his in a tender kiss, which he gladly returned. Subtly, you brought the cloth up to his collar bone. He broke away from the kiss, because of the unexpected stinging. You pulled away, and he sighed. His gaze shifted down to you and glared while shaking his head, “Satan,” he muttered directly to you,
Prompt: Hi!! Could you do a bit where the reader has the spider powers, like Spidergirl or Spiderwoman? And she and Peter go to school together and she’s been crushing on him, and one night she’s on patrol and she saves him or something but he recognizes her voice. Love love love your blog!! Thanks so much!
You were known as Spidergirl to the citizens of New York City, but really? You were (Y/N) from Queens. The girl who wore baggy sweatshirts and nerdy tees with ripped skinny jeans and the same shoes everyday. Nothing like the red-and-blue clad superhero that young girls admired.
The final bell rang and you were out of your chair instantaneously so you could get to the city for your patrol. While sprinting down the hallway you lost your footing and fell into a row of lockers, erupting laughter from your fellow students. Your books and random papers scattered on the floor, nobody stopping to help pick them up. When you’d almost finished, another set of hands picked up the rest of the papers from the other side of the corridor. You looked up to see the sweet, chocolate eyes of Peter Parker. “Uh, thanks,” you told him as he handed you your work. “No problem,” he replied and stuck his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. You hurried off after a quick mumble of a goodbye, only to hear him calling after you. You didn’t look back.
You’d been on patrol since six that evening after you’d finished your homework. With a tingle of your spider senses, you headed over to help the victim. Surprisingly, you did not find anyone in the alleyway. You were about to turn around and try to search some more but you heard someone struggling and mumbling. You looked up to see Spiderman hanging by his own webbing from a fire escape. A chuckle erupted from your mouth as you swung up to the platform below him. “Seems like you’re in a bit of a pickle, Spiderman. If only there was someone who could help you,” you joked. His mechanical eyes widened in surprise. Leaning forward, you began de-webbing him until he fell flat on his face. With a groan, he flipped himself over onto his back so he could look at you. “Thanks for that, some muggers got handsy.” You giggled before lying down next to him. “Yeah,” you replied, “they usually are.”
“So Spidergirl,” he said but you interrupted him before he could say anything more. “It’s Spiderwoman, actually Spiderboy.” “It’s Spiderman,” he mumbled. “I know, now what were you going to say?” you asked. “You sound familiar. Do I know you?” You shook your head against the metal before standing to sit on the railing. “Don’t think so. Probably not, I’m not very noticeable,” you told him. Suddenly, he jumped up from his lying position to point a red finger in your face. “I do know you!” he exclaimed. “I helped you with your books today! Hey (Y/N)!” His knowledge of your identity caused you to lose balance and you almost fell backwards. Peter’s arm shot out around you to stabilize you, which meant his masked face was extremely close to you. You slowly removed your mask before pulling his off his face to see a goofy smile spreading across his lips. He leaned forward expecting a kiss but you fell backwards, shot a web towards the building across from the both of you and yelled, “Have to catch me to kiss me, Parker!” before running along the rooftops.
A horseback rider of the Red Army cavalry, clad in heavy winter gear, is seen as he passes a German tank abandoned by the retreating German invaders, at an unknown location along the German-Russian front, on February 22, 1942.
Requested by Anon:
Absolutely love your blog! You’re an amazing person for doing this to make so many people happy. I was wondering if you could do a Pierre Luc Dubois Drabble where you bump into him at the World Juniors with the rest of the team near by. However you don’t know who he is because you were dragged to one of the games by your friend. You can finish the rest from there 😊 Thank you so much if you do write this because you probably get so many requests. Hope your having a wonderful holiday
*Thank you so sooo much! I’m just glad I make you happy. Here’s your request. I hope you like it. Have a good night!:)*
Word count: 950
The suite wasn’t crowded, just a
few people in a twenty-capacity box and it was relatively quiet so when the
door opened, everyone except your friend, who was so focused on the game,
turned to see who just entered.
One look at the red polo-clad tall
brunette and you groaned, “fuck my life,” you muttered to yourself, hiding your
face behind your glass of beer.
((Song I listened to while writing this, cuz I feel like that’s needed: For Your Entertainment by Adam Lambert))
Jon, or Delirious during work hours, danced like no fucking other. His body was captivating in every way possible, with the ways that it turned and moved in a symphony of intricate movements. He used this talent of his to his advantage and used it to pay off his lingering college funds. And truth be told, he loved his job, it was nice being able to finally show people what exactly he was made of.
So here he was now one stage, in the red tinted spotlight. Clad in his black spandex booty-shorts and faded navy blue Dr. Martens. This moment was his, he felt it in his bones.
He stood there; head bowed low waiting for the music to kick on. And once it did at the beginning beats before the vocals he looked up, making what he called ‘Pretty-Eyes’ to the crowd as he subtly searched through it. It always helped to have someone or something to focus on. So he caught the eye of a beautiful bearded man, choosing him as quickly as they met eyes.
He popped his chest in and out to the first set of lyrics, mouthing each word. He’s heard this song so many times while practicing this certain dance, he was going to perfect this if it was the last thing he did.
He slowly guided his body to the left, then advancing forward and to the right, leading with his hips as he did so.
He continued to do this until he got near the end of the stage before bending his elbows, positioning his arms into an ‘X’ formation in front of his chest. He dragged them away from his chest, touching his own skin as he did so. He did his cute head roll, a look to his side, fluttering his eye lashes and smiling cheekily.
He turned in a circle, gyrating his hips in a pattern of a figure 8 then two rough thrusts to the one side and two more rough thrusts to the other side. His arms were behind his head gripping his own hair as he moved.
Jon sunk down to his knees, eyeing the man he’d looked at in the beginning only to see he was being eyed just as hard. He bit his lip, placing his palms on the stage, giving a buck of the hips and a few more after that.
He hopped up just as gracefully as his other movements, turned around, and strolled back down the stage. He gave a gentle wave and a toothy smile, walking backstage after the song ended. He could hear the crowd cheer and chant, his heart soaring with pride.
Jon got dressed back in his normal clothes. His clothes were baggy and layered since it was cold outside.
“Del, there’s a satisfied customer who rented room 13 who wants to see you.”
“Ok, thanks. I’ll be right there,” He grabbed his backpack and walked out into the common area.
He waved to the bartenders before walking down the large hallway of rentable rooms. In those rooms, private dances were bought along with little add-ons among other things.
He entered the assigned room, closing the door after him.
Jon immediately met the gorgeous eyes of the man. He stared at this man during his entire routine; he couldn’t keep his eyes off of him.
“Hey there,” Jon smiled awkwardly, setting his bag down on the floor next to the door.
“Hey,” the man smiled back, “You’re an awfully good dancer.”
Jon had heard the praise many times and of course it was great to hear, but it never made him weak at the knees like it did right now.
“Oh, thank you,” He placed his hand on the back of his neck, but remembered that this man was probably here for a reason. “So, what can I do you for?”
The man was confused, but recovered quickly, “I actually just wanted to ask if you’d possibly like to go one a date,”
Jon’s eyes widened.
“Yeah! I-I mean, if you want to of course.”
Jon smiled impossibly wider.
“Sure, that’d be nice.” He nodded, “My name’s Jon by the way…”
“I’m Luke,” They shook hands. “And I hope to be seeing you again.”
“You will, trust me.” Jon winked making Luke laugh.
gotta tag the sole reason i wrote this scenario; @jiminniejuseyo. inspired by our ungodly hour talks and a shit ton of kink confessions and dfghjkl you’re killing me w jimin feels viv. let me just love yoongi in peace after this. i hope you suffer like it. and you know i hate love you too ((((: also isn’t the gif just asdfgghjnkll.
10k words of filthy, nasty asf smut. And a shit ton of
kinks I’m not proud of. But enjoy, anyways.
Park Jimin in suit and tie ft. sugar daddy!Kim Namjoon.
A/N: I’m pretty sure at this point all of my A/Ns will be me apologizing profusely for how long it’s taking me to write some of these requests. I hope this is what you were hoping it would end up as! Enjoy (:
summary: S.T.A.R. Labs didn’t get to Barry before he woke up and everything is different.
pairing: barry allen x reader
“Oh, she’s crying!” you squeal in delight, hopping around a little bit. Your skin-tight leather suit hugs all of your curves, causing your assets to move along with you. A hand slaps your ass and a predatory smirk crosses your face as you look at the man beside you.
“How sad,” Barry drawls, crouching in front of the woman currently crying silently on the ground. “Are you upset?” he asks her mockingly, pushing his bottom lip into an exaggerated pout. You laugh from behind him, resting your hands on his red-clad shoulders, dragging your hands down to his chest and pressing yourself against his back. He smirks up at you as you imitate his pout at the woman.
Raph with the “ do me a favor, kiss my ass. ” phrase please?
“Let me go outside, Leo!” “No. Nobody leaves this lair on their own, especially not tonight.” “Why are ya always tellin’ me what ta do?!” “Because I’m the leader here. You know that, Raphael. Now go and lift some weights.“ The red-clad turtle growled and snarled like a caged animal. How could his ‘perfect’ brother always keep his cool? It was maddening! Couldn’t he just once raise his voice? Couldn’t he just once lose his damn patience? He was very much capable of going outside on his own. He was a frickin’ tank! He looked at his big brother, every trace of respect in his face replaced by built-up anger as he spat, “Do me a favor and kiss my ass, Leo!” and made his way to the punch bags.
“That one seems to really love you,” comes an amused voice, and Esper perks up, looking over his shoulder at the red-clad pet stop clerk watching him from over the counter.
He stands up from the ground, a feathered stick still in hand and a black kitty climbing the fence of the pen to paw at it. “Seems like it,” he says, looking down at it fondly as it slips on the tall fence.
“Would you like to buy it?” asks the redheaded clerk, but Esper shakes his head softly.
“No,” he mutters quietly, “if I did, I wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore.”
The clerk’s cheeks heat up to almost match his hair, and he retreats back to the counter to hide it, but it’s far too late; Esper had already burned it into his memory, and returns to playing with the kitties, now sporting a very pleased smile.
A seemingly wild beast ravaged the fields with its unbridled rage, as defined by its harrowing roars. She would knock down nearby trees and scoop up the earth without rhyme nor reason, as anything in the dragon’s path would become subject to its wrath.
As such, that didn’t exclude humans. Upon seeing the boy clad in red (a color that was distinct against the green grasslands), Corrin let out a piercing screech to call his attention.
Arched into an offensive stance, she looked ready to attack at any moment!
Setting an music roll into the orchestrion, Leanne moves up to stage, a strange guitar dangling from her back. The redhead was the vision of a short, high-spirited seeker clad in red and black, the gold buckles and pieces of plate that peppered her attire reflecting any all sort of light directed at them, giving out a distinct shine. Taking hold of the guitar, the girl toyed with the instrument’s tune, playing a note that grew more and more distorted in reaction to her fiddling.
Once satisfied with the guitar’s tune, she flashed a warm smile to the public, cheery features brightening up as her pearly whites were exposed. “This song is a bit dark, but I think it fits well the theme of "Mad Love”. I hope it is to everyone’s liking. And if it is not, well…you can boo me out of stage. Shall hold no grudges.“ she snickered before respectfully dipping her head.
Clearing her throat, the girl let her golden eyes close, and raised her right arm up high before dramatically letting it fall onto the guitar, playing the first distorted notes, the low rumble done by the instrument setting the dark mood of song. Shortly after, the orchestrion came to life, further cementing the tone by complementing the chords.
With the mood fully settled, the once low rumble exploded into a more energetic tune as Leanne began bounce on her feet in accordance to the beat, bangs and braid flipping about as she did. Once the volume lowered, her voice finally came out, a low murmur of want. Her expression overtaken with grief and pain, as seemingly struggled with something within.
♪ It’s bugging me, grating me, ♪ And twisting me arooound. ♪ Yeah, I’m endlessly, caving in, ♪ And turning inside out..
Growling, the girl raised the volume, the chords that the guitar spelled swelling before she cried out desperately to the crowd in front of her, fierce, violent, pleading.
♪ ‘cause I want it now! I want it now!! ♪ Give me your heart and your soul.. ♪ And I’m breaking out! I’m breaking out! ♪ Why won’t you give me control..?
After the explosion of sounds Leanne’s posture relaxed. Looking down in forlornness, her hips swung to the beat in a contained manner, with a low whisper of loneliness taking over the vocals again.
♪ It’s holding me, hurting me, ♪ And forcing me to shrive. ♪ Being endlessly, cold within, ♪ Just dreaming of being alive..
She shook her head in denial before crying out to the public once more, the powerful chords of the guitar a statement of her desperate state.
♪ I just want it now! I want it now!! ♪ Give me your heart and your soul.. ♪ I’m not breaking down! I’m breaking out! ♪ Why won’t you give me control..?!
As her voice faded, the guitar took centerpiece of the act. The somber chords accompanied the girl as she jumped out of stage, with melancholic steps guiding her through the audience as she meandered aimlessly. As she passes through the tables, Leanne left a beautiful red rose on each one before returning to the stage.
The solo kept going and going, with Leanne not facing the audience, rather finding the wall a far more attractive target for her golden eyes. That is until the song began to swell again, which prompted her to turn around immediately, yelling all of her dangerous, violent feelings out.
♪ And I want you now! I want you now!! ♪ I feel my heart implode. ♪ And I’m breaking out! I’m escaping now!! ♪ Feeling my faith erode…
Leanne kept bobbing her read as the final notes were played. Raising her hand up high once more, she played a powerful last chord, before lowering her torso over dramatically bow, ending the song.
An Interesting Night. (TomTord): Tom finally feels ready to “go all the way” with Tord, but as soon as
things start getting intense, he’s hit with a wave of nerves, and can’t go on. Tord questions the sudden change of attitude, and Tom
chooses to reveal something he’s been hiding for a long time now. How will
Tord feel, learning something like this about his boyfriend?
Tony Stark had precautions to keep Wade Wilson, who was dating his son, out of his tower.
Much to Peter’s delight, however, the mercenary still found ways to get into his web-slinger’s bedroom undetected. Well, that was part of his job, after all: getting into places without being noticed.
On this night, he decided to come in through the roof’s vents; it was something that people his size usually couldn’t do.
After falling down into one of the many hallways on the floor that Petey’s bedroom was on, he stealthily made his way to the door and silently opened it.
Spidey-sense had already seen him coming, however, so Peter was already staring at the door, a grin sneaking onto his lips as he saw the red-and-black clad figure.
“Hey, Wade,” Peter purred, standing from his place at his desk and making his way over to the muscular man. The two embraced in a tight hug after the door was closed again, taking in each other’s scent, feel, and the sound of their breathing; simply everything.
“I missed you, baby boy,” Wade breathed into Peter’s messy hair, taking his mask off and stuffing it in his pocket before nuzzling into the thick brunet locks again.
“We saw each other this morning, Wade, when you dropped me off at school,” Petey chuckled, his own face tucked closely to his boyfriend’s collarbone.
“Mm, too long away from my spidey boy~” the merc chuckled, reaching down and placing a firm kiss on the soft lips below him. “Jeez, baby boy, how do you always taste so good?” he moaned, teasing Peter as he rubbed circles on the small of his back.
“I eat a lot of great food constantly so I taste real nice,” the boy teased in return, sticking his thumbs underneath the straps on Deadpool’s back. “Are we just gonna stand here, or are we gonna cuddle and make out on my bed?”
“Oh-ho-ho, you KNOW I want some of that second option,” Wade cackled, lifting his spider up and skipping over to Peter’s bed, the two laughing and weakly struggling with each other the whole way there.
They tumbled onto the mattress in a pile of smiles and kisses, the two clinging to rack other as their lips got to know each other once again.
“I love you, Peter,” Wade murmured, his voice dark and gravelly after kissing for so long.
“God, I love you, too, Wade…”
“Steve, I have to ask you a favour.”
“Take this knife and stab me with it.”
“What?? Why in the world would I do that??”
“I put a video camera in Peter’s room while he was at school today, so I would know when that menace-with-a-mouth is here…”
“Okay, so that was a terrible idea that could never work, since Peter would be able to hear the little engine-thing in the camera and would know it’s there, but go on.”
“I saw some things… And as they were kissing, Peter looked me in the eye and SMIRKED.”
“Oh my lord… You don’t need me to stab you, Peter already killed you inside!”
His sword was in his hand, but he made no effort to raise it. Only stood there, that odd smile on his lips, dark eyes burning in Jamie’s own.
If he had been able to break that gaze … but he couldn’t, and so caught the blur of movement behind Randall. Murtagh, running, bounding tussocks like a sheep. And the glint of his godfather’s blade—had he seen that, or only imagined it? No matter; he’d known without doubt from the cock of Murtagh’s arm, and seen before it happened the murderous strike come upward toward the Captain’s red-clad back.
But Randall spun, warned maybe by some change in his eyes, the sob of Murtagh’s breath—or only by a soldier’s instinct. Too late to avoid the thrust, but soon enough that the dirk missed its fatal aim into the kidney. Randall had grunted with the blow—Christ, he could hear it—and jerked aside staggering, but turning as he fell, grasping Murtagh’s wrist, dragging him down in a shower of spray from the wet gorse they fell through.
They had rolled away into a hollow, locked together, struggling, and he had flung himself through the clinging plants in pursuit, some weapon—what, what had he held?—in his fist.
But the feel of it faded against his skin; he felt the weight of the thing in his hand, but there was no shape of hilt or trigger to remind him, and it was gone again.
Leaving him with that one image: Murtagh. Murtagh, teeth clenched and bared as he struck. Murtagh, running, coming to save him.
You looked at Tony in horror. You didn’t mean to hurt him. But he made you angry and you couldn’t stop yourself. Despite protests from Bruce and Steve, you knew you had to leave before you hurt anyone else, so you ran.
You managed to get at least a couple miles from the tower before needing to sit and rest. You found a bench in a small park and sat down, sighing when you were off your feet.
Before long, however, you heard someone approaching. “Go away,” you grumbled as you turned to look.
“Usually I start talking before people try to get me to leave,” the red-clad man commented. It didn’t take you long to realize it was Deadpool talking to you.
“What do you want?” you asked.
“A way into the Avengers? Come on! I know you’re one of them, and I really want Thor to-”
“WAS one of them,” you interrupted, not wanting to hear what Deadpool wanted Thor to do. “I ran away because I hurt Tony.
“All the more reason to have me on a team. I can’t get hurt!” Deadpool said. “Well, things still hurt, but not for long at all.”
“You’d have to talk to Cap. I have no say in who joins,” you stated, shaking your head.
“You should go back with me,” Deadpool said. “I don’ see why you’d even leave. A bunch of hot men, with a couple hot women for flavor. I’d never want to leave that!”
“You are an idiot. Do you ever stop talking?” you asked, shaking your head.
“Sometimes when I have a roll’s worth of duct tape covering my mouth,” Deadpool started. “And am I an idiot, or am I a genius? Because I think I’m annoying you enough to run back to the Avengers to get away from me.”
“Considering it’s not working, I’m still going with idiot,” you said with a smile and a nod.