so i feel like i am going to pass out in this heat

anonymous asked:

Makkachin runs away and Yuuri just happens to be the person who finds him

The rain pounds.

Yuuri bows his head and pulls his hood farther up to try and protect himself, but it’s to no avail. The ink on the pages that he is holding streams down the paper and, realizing that he’d been too caught up in covering himself to cover his precious cargo, he shoves the pages inside his jacket and zips it up. They’re covered in images of a poodle with the words “FOUND POODLE” written in bold, black lettering, but as the water blurs the letters, they become less and less legible.

There goes all of the money he’d spent printing the posters.

He finds shelter underneath an awning outside of a cafe. He’s not far from home, but it feels like a failure to go home with a soaking wet jacket and posters and no progress having been made to find the lost poodle’s home.

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Princess of Themyscira: Part 8

Prompt: When the world is invaded and your world is turned upside down, you’re forced to make a choice that will rule your future

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four. Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven



The cold Gotham night barely bothers you. You had grown up in this weather and you’d grown use to regulating your body heat on Themyscira. You take a deep breath as the wind ruffles your hair.

   “It almost feels normal.” You glance at Dick, dressed in his Nightwing uniform. It had been two weeks since your confrontation in the cave, and slowly Dick was coming back to his true self. It had started with his appearance and banning him from the cave for a week. Slowly he was beginning to smile again.

   You shrug, “I wouldn’t know.”

   “You shouldn’t have to know.”

   You smile at your brother, “This is as much my burden as yours.”

   He nods towards your uniform “So I see.”

   You glance down. Your boots were flat and black, and bled into black pants before stopping at what had once been your mother’s Wonder Woman belt. From there came your only spice of color, your mother’s red breastplate. Your hair was held back by her tiara and her bracelets adorned your wrist. A light leather jacket provided further protection. Her lasso sat on your hip, and your quiver rested against your back, and a new, state of the art bow remained in your hand. And finally, a mask hid your eyes.

   “As much as I would hate to interrupt this wonderful conversation, there’s a bank robbery in progress in downtown Gotham. Looks like the penguin has waddled back to town.”

   You smile, as Tim’s voice comes through your earpiece. With a running start you and Dick begin making your way through Gotham’s streets. “Is it just me or has he become a bit more sassy?” Jason’s tone is more than a bit snarky.

   “Maybe I’m sassy because I’m talking but people aren’t listening!”

   “Or you haven’t gotten your one millionth cup of coffee of the day.” Jason quips back.

   Static comes through for a minute before Tim finally admits, “Alfred may be forcing me to cut down a bit.”

   “Is all this chatter necessary? We are hunting a criminal, are we not?” You have to bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

   Instead you say, “Sorry Artemis.”

   There’s a sigh before she says, “Please wait for me before engaging.”

Jason scoffs, “That is so not how this works. First come first served. And right now, it looks like an all you can eat buffet for little old me.”

You watch Dick roll his eyes, as you continue running. Radio silence comes a moment later, and you ask, “Did Jason just admit to being little Red Riding Hood?”  

Dick lets out a laugh as you jump from the final roof. And together, you jump. You land with a solid thunk, before moving into a sprint. Jason’s already knee deep in blood when you get there. You and Dick stand there for a moment and watch as Artemis appears out of nowhere, taking out a hidden shooter.

You and he watch as the two of them go to town. Slowly Dick says, “This is a dangerous team.”

You smile, “Artemis is the best warrior the Amazons have to offer. She trained me.”

“Yep. She’ll fit right in.” As the police sirens sound, and Artemis binds Penguin, you and Dick meld back into the night. The rest of the night is spent taking down muggers and other small time crime.

When you traipse back to the cave Jason and Artemis are more than a little energetic. You and Dick watch them make for the training room. You lock eyes with Tim and he asks, “What the hell have we created?”

You shrug, “Something that will probably terrify the Joker.”

Tim shrugs, before wheeling his chair towards the lift Dick had put in.

You head towards the changing area. You change into comfortable clothes before heading back up stairs. You slip through the house quietly before slipping into the back yard.

   This far away from the city the stars are visible and you drink them in. You scrunch your toes in the grass, and take in a deep breath.

   A minute later the door opens and closes. You turn and smile as your sisters slip out the door. Calyce holds out a mug and you take it. “What thoughts are running through your mind?”

   “How amazing it felt to be out there.”

   Euboea’s voice is gentle, “The city is amazing.”

   You nod, “I remember being mesmerized by it as a kid. Mom would take me into the city to see Dad, and I’d stare at the buildings as we passed. I remember wondering what it would be like to be above the clouds.”

   Io’s voice is hesitant when she asks, “Have you gone to see her yet?”

   Your eyes stray to the trees, knowing what lies just beyond the border, “Not yet. I keep making excuses.”

   “You’ve been busy, returning your family’s name to it’s former glory, cementing your parents’ legacy, making sure that we are learning.”

   You shrug, “They’re excuses. We all know it. I’m a coward.”

   Io places one hand on your shoulder, “You are many things my princess, but a coward is not one of them.”

   “Would you like us to go with you?” Euboea asks.

   You shake your head, “This is something I have to do alone.”

   You walk away from the group, feeling their eyes on you until you pass through the trees. Once you’re through the tree line you make your way down the path. It’s a bit steep, but you take it easily.

   The area is different than you remember. There’s a bench now, and a fountain. It’s peaceful. Sliding onto the bench you stare at the two head stones. Your mother’s lays right next to your father’s.

   You lean back into the bench, “So here I am … doing what you never wanted me to. Taking on a mission I never thought I’d have to.” You sigh, before scrubbing your hands over your face, “What the hell am I doing? I’m talking to dirt. To shells. You can’t hear me. You can’t respond. You can’t tell me what to do next, or where to look for Damian. You can’t do anything because you’re both dead, and some part of me hates you for it.”

   You sit there in silence, reveling in your confession, and mourning the life you’ve lost.

kiyumiarashi  asked:

Tell us about the parrots and the zipline? That sounds like the worst thing to happen ever.

Oh boy ok brace yourself cause this entire debacle was just a mess. Imma tell the story of this entire day cause it was just absolute bs 

So I’m in Mexico with my family, yknow, having a nice vacation. My dad doesn’t do heat, so it was just my grandparents, my mom, and me. Keep in mind, I was like, 16 at the time, so this was a few years ago now. 

So, i fully admit, I’m a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Always have been, always will be. So when they said we could go to a massive park that was 90% underground, and the rest was like 300ft in the air, i jumped at the opprotunity.

so we get there and I immediatly beeline for the ziplines. Now, you can’t just do one of these suckers. Once you do one, there’s no going back until you’ve conquered all 12 (or something like that, there was a lot.) It took the better part of two exhausting hours to get through them all. 

So before the parrot issue there was some other bs first. We brought my best friend with me that year, but because we were both too light, we had to go tandum for a lot of the lines, or else we wouldn’t make it across. We’d just get stuck in the middle of the line dangling like a pinata, and no body wants that.

so the first bs comes along. I’m singing the batman theme song to keep my friend calm, because she is not a fan of heights. Like, we are screaming NANANANANANANA BATMAAAAAN at the top of our lungs. And we look ahead and see this massive gap in the trees. Now, we’d gone over a couple cinotes already where we could see the people doing the under ground activities. We figued, hey, let’s laugh at the people doing the river swim that’ll make us feel better. SO we get up on it and my friend starts freak tf out. It wasn’t a cinote.

it was a snake pit.

A massive round, man made snake pit will with hundreds of writhing snakes. They were climbing the walls, even the trees that were like 3ft from our toes. So we’re freaking out like “I don’t wanna be indiana jones i’m too young!!” But we pass it with no problem. We keep going another few second or so, and we see another break in the trees. We’re bracing like cause we assume it was another snake pit. It wasn’t.

It was a crocodile pit.

cue freak out number two.

but we pass it and all is well. Then we come onto the landing strip. We were just starting out so this one was pretty low to the ground. And then i see a weird shape on the grass landing pad.

There was a crocodile on the lawn

we freaked OUT like you wouldn’t believe.

so we’re soaring at this thing and there’s no stopping. We’re waving at the guys who are supposed to catch us with a net like “yo guys u got a coc problem.” and they don’t seem bothered in the slightest. We pass over this thing and it doesn’t move, but i’m 99% sure i tried to kick it. Now we’re free we’re safe and we should be slowing down…why aren’t we slowing down.

we slam into the safety net full force and bounce back a couple feet. When we manage to unhook ourselves we find the two duded pissing themselves laughing.

it was a fake crocodile. i tried to kick a concrete lawn ornament.


onto the parrots.


for this next one my friend was freaking out, as we were over 300ft up. I wanted to go asap so i went attached to my mom instead. At this point, i am alrady 5′8″, and my mom is like 5′5″. so you have this massive beanpole of a child strapped to her tiny mother. So we take off and our combined weight has us absolutely flying down the line. It’s all idealyic and serene, and i’m enjoying my crocodile free cruise. I look down and through a break in the trees i spot the amphibian vehicles going in and out of the cave systems. All good. Right beside them is a pack of leopards sunning themselves on a rock, which is also directly below us. and im thinking “wow, this would a crappy time to fall” immediatly i hear

thunkthunkthunkthunkthunk

my legs hurt all of a sudden. I glance down and see blood dripping down my leg. Mom is screaming/laughing.

we hit a flock of parents mid flight

and they were pissed.

So im screaming and swatting at them, they’re screeching like little feathered demons and pecking t us, some were dangling off my shoe laces, shriekingly like hellions. I still have scars from those suckers. They eventually fly off starnig us down like “dont ever come to our terf again” 

we finished the ziplines without incident after that.

but my day isnt over yet.

we have a wonderful lunch, i get my legs cleaned up, and we make the trek to the amphibian vehicles i saw earlier. We hop in and we’re going through the motions. Up and down, into caves and out. Super cool. Loved it.Then we come to where i saw the leopards.

all the cars in front of us pass without incident.

the second we roll up the leopards perk up and start running after us

cue freakout number 4654783

now, my grandpa is driving and i’m sitting there, with nothing but a mesh door between me and a pack of leopards

“grandpa go faster, we gotta goooo” and he just looks at me all calm like

“i know why they’re here.”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW WHY THEY’RE HERE GO FASTER”

He just calmly, oh so casually, pulls out a hot dog from lunch.I just kinda stare at him like GRANDPA

Obviously i do the smart thing

i grab that stupid hot dog at chuck at the nearest leopard

i hit it in the face

they all fall on each other trying to get a taste of that mustardy goodness and we take that moment to make our escape


and that was my” wth is going on in mexico extravaganza”

and that day didn’t even include the sting ray incident

Sexting (Jimin smut)

Originally posted by minblush


Summary: On a lonely night, you decide to sign up for an anonymous sexting site. Of course you are matched with the notorious fuckboy you’re constantly trying to avoid. Park fucking Jimin.

Themes: Sexting, Fuckboy Jimin, College AU.

Pairing: You x Jimin

Word Count: 4k

This fic contains: Explicit and graphic depictions of smut, sex over the phone, swearing. 


ENTER USERNAME:

Cleopatra123

WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?

Male/Female

WHERE ARE YOU FROM?

I’d rather not say/enter here:

WHAT ARE YOU INTERESTED IN?

Decent conversation/making friends/finding a language buddy/other

PLEASE INDICATE YOUR AGE PREFERANCE:

19-24

CLICK ‘CHAT’ TO BE MATCHED WITH A PARTNER!

YOU HAVE BEEN MATCHED WITH ‘THOR562’.

THOR562: 21 years old- Seoul, South Korea- also interested in ‘other’.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHAT?

Yes/No

YOU ARE NOW IN A CHAT WITH THOR562, ENJOY!


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Heart on the Line (part 1)

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

You and Bucky had your differences in college, but now you need a place to stay and he needs a roommate, and in order to make ends meet, you two start a phone sex line together.  

“For a Good Time, Call…” AU


author: sugardaddytonystark (formerly buckysbackpackbuckle)
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
word count: 1516
warnings: smutty smut smut and dirty talk (future chapters)

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Skewered

Summary: You’re a doctor for the avengers and when Bucky comes in with a hunk of metal in his side you find that it’s not his injury that’s making you sweat.

Warnings: Description of wounds/blood, Bucky being shameless

Note: I’m overwhelmed by the feedback I got on my last fic! You guys are great! So for my second fic I though I’d try out Bucky, again I’d love any constructive comments/criticism.


“Incoming! Incoming!” Odette, the surgical tech assigned to you rushes into the room.

“How many?” you ask, looking up from the table where you’ve laid out your tools.The tech flushes. You sigh. “What type of injuries?” 

“Uh-hm..” the tech stutters. You turn around so you can hide your eye roll. “Dr.Cho’s been called in..” Odette says. 

“Thank you, Odette” You say and head to the sink to scrub your hands again. You are a top scientist working for Fury, and besides having your degree in engineering you’re an MD who specializes in general surgery. So whenever the reinstated avengers go on mission you’re put on call, which basically consists of you waiting in the med bay in case anyone needs to be treated. Usually the injuries are minor, the team are unparalleled in what they do, and you just end up patching up deep scrapes or bullet grazes. Because of this and the fact you have daily work at the Avenger’s compound you’ve become very friendly with the team.

Your palms start to sweat. Today’s mission was supposed to be high risk and it’s a bad sign that Helen’s been called in. With you and one other doctor on call her and her technology are only called in for severe injuries. The door opens and a battered looking Steve supporting an even more battered looking Bucky walks in. Steve helps Bucky sit on the examination table.

“Any more injured?” You ask, pulling on gloves.

“Scrapes all around, except for Sam. He’s badly burned.” Steve blows air out of his mouth. You look at him, his brow is creased in worry. 

“How badly?” You look at Bucky, he has a chunk of what seems to be jagged metal in his side, about two inches thick, protruding several inches from his gear. It seems to be a simple extraction job.

“Badly. But Park’s seeing to him”  Samuel Park is the other doctor in the compound “Dr.Cho’s supposed to put him in the new Cradle.I hope she gets here soon.”

You walk to the table and pick up scissors and a knife. “Odette, You should go assist Dr.Park.” the tech nods, and scurries out the door. Steve goes to follow but looks back at Bucky.

“He’ll be fine, go,” You say, and with that Steve leaves.


You look at Bucky. His eyes are already trained on you. It reminds you of the time Steve came in for stitches. His forearm had been split open. Bucky leaned against the wall in the corner of the room, he remained silent but his eyes followed your every move. Even when you looked at him he didn’t break his gaze. You assumed he was just being protective over his best friend. Bucky hasn’t said more than two words to you in the time that you’ve known him. Even after he started opening up and joking around with the team he remained oddly silent around you. You assumed you annoyed him. He had no problem talking with the others and even flirting with the research techs. 

You step up to him and start cutting away his gear. ‘Oops probably should have asked before I started cutting off his clothes’.Heat flushes down your neck and you stop your actions.

“Sorry, do you mind  if I cut away your gear?” 

“ ‘S fine” he says, voice low. You look up and you swear there’s a hint of smile on his face. You nod and continue. He smells of something metallic mixed with blood and sweat and a hint of….cologne…? As you cut away more of his gear you catch more of it. You try not to think about it. He’s handsome, the type of handsome that makes people do a double take. You try to ignore the broadness of his shoulders as his gear falls away, leaving him in a damp wife-beater. 

“Ain’t even the first date and you’re already tryna get me outta my clothes.” He rasps, startling you. You stutter and stammer, before deciding not to respond.

“Okay,” you say, taking a breath. “I’m just going to  take a look at this” You step in between his legs and inspect the metal shard. It looks worse than what you first thought it was. The shard is about the size of your hand and sticks out right below his rib cage, there’s a possibility that it might have hit some organs. There’s no exit point. Your heart rate goes up. Can a super soldier die if his major organs fail before his body can repair them? 

You wheel over your table of tools. You wish you hadn’t sent away Odette.

“Can you lay down for me?,” You ask.

“Of course sugar.” He says, piercing you with his stare.

You take a deep breath, feeling flustered. Did this man want to die on the operating table?

You cut away his undershirt and prepare some local anesthesia.

“I’m going to try to numb the area, but I don’t know how well this will work. I’m sorry I don’t have anything else on hand.” You don’t even know if anesthesia would work on him.

“ ‘S alright, darling I’ve been through worse,” He says giving you a small smile. You feel your face fall as you think about how true his statement is. You numb him and take a deep breath.You move to start extracting the shard when his hand shoots out and grabs yours. You stop yourself from jumping.

“You know there is something that would make me feel better.” Bucky says, voice gravelly.

“Of course, what is it?” You place your tools back on the table. ‘Maybe a special painkiller?’ you think.

“A kiss,” Bucky’s face stretches into a wide smirk.

You splutter “James…!”

“Bucky.” he supplies, smirk not leaving his face.

“Bucky….I uh….I don’t think that would be necessary for minimizing your pain.”

Oh I beg to differ darlin’“ He says.

You clear your throat and start to grab your tools again. Bucky says your name, pleadingly.

“Come on, ya really gonna deny a dyin’ man his final wish.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic tone. You fix him with your gaze.

 “You’re not gonna die Bucky.” 

“Here I am,bleeding out on your table, and all I’m askin’ for is one little kiss. Just one little kiss, from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He looks at you from the corner of his eye “….before she slices me open.”

You sigh. One thing you know about Bucky Barnes is that he’s stubborn as a bull. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek, his stubble prickling you in a not unpleasant way.

For a moment Bucky just looks at you, it seems like he’s crawling underneath your skin with that stare. Then he groans “Really sugar? Ya gonna try and cheat a man with a chunk of metal in his side?”

“I-I, uh” You stammer

“You really are heartless.” He sighs dramatically, closing his eyes.

You war with yourself for a split second, before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. As you start to pull away Bucky’s hand comes up and stops you, and he deepens the kiss. His lips are surprisingly soft, his stubble scratches your face deliciously. Remembering the fact that he has a piece of metal in his side, you slowly withdraw. Bucky tugs on your lip with his teeth as you do so, which makes you have to turn around in order to regain your composure. When you turn back around, Bucky’s face is split in an ear to ear grin.

“Alright beautiful, cut me open, I can now die a happy man.”

You swallow, “Shut up James,” you snap, hating how your voice shakes. You pick up your tools and start to remove the metal. It comes out surprisingly smoothly, except for the last few inches. As you pull them free, Bucky starts to bleed. Way too much. The end of the shard is jagged. You try to contain the blood. But there’s just so much, you call for assistance and try to repair the damage.

By the time you finish you’re covered in blood. “Bucky, Bucky can you hear me?” You say, stepping close and touching his face, he looks drawn, pale.

“His pulse is faint. But it’s there.” Odette says. You jump, you forgot she had come in.

“Alright,” you sigh, blowing hair back from your forehead. “Guess we’ll wait.”


Bucky’s moved to a different hospital bed in another one of the rooms, and fitted with IVs. Steve understandably freaks out, with two close friends gravely injured within 24 hours it’s no wonder. Sam’s healed now, resting. You tell Steve to do the same and sit in a chair in Bucky’s room. The others wander in and out of the room.You know with his regenerative properties he’ll recover, but when six hours pass you can’t help but worry. ‘Why hasn’t he woken up by now?’ .


You blink your eyes open as a sliver of sunlight passes across your face. You squint, looking at the clock on the wall: 7 am. Damn. You finished patching Bucky up at about 4 pm last night. You had fallen asleep in his room. ‘I’m terrible at keeping watch’ you scold yourself. ‘What if he had worsened during the night?’ You look over at Bucky, only to find him watching you. You jump.

“Man you need to stop doing that.” Your voice is thick with sleep. You lick your dry lips, feeling self conscious. Standing you hear your joints cracking as you walk over.

“How can I help it when you’re always lookin’ so gorgeous?” He smirks.

“Shut up,” You say, pulling back the covers and inspecting his wound. It looks nearly healed. “How do you feel?” you murmur.

“Alright,” He says wincing slightly as you put pressure on his wound. He sits up, and you try to ignore the way the muscles in his chest and stomach flex. “I’d feel better if you’d let me buy you dinner, though” He looks up at you through his lashes. You click your tongue.

“You really are shameless,”

“Come on, it’s the least I can do after bleedin’ all over ya.” You look down at yourself, your scrubs are crusted in dried blood. You start replacing the dressing on his wound.

“You say that to all the girls who stitch you up?” You quip, avoiding his gaze.

“Nope. But then again I don’t spend six months building up the courage to ask those girls out either.” You look at him for a long while,saying nothing, and notice how red starts to tinge his ears and creep up his neck.

“Alright,” You answer finally giving him a smirk of your own.

Bucky lets out a huge breath, and chuckles  “Damn sugar, you really know how to make a man sweat, don’t ya?”


Tags : @stephie-senpai

anonymous asked:

Hi love! What would you say the top ten sterek fics you've ever read are?

This was REALLY HARD. Mainly bc it’s hard to choose only 10. Because I’m leaving off some great fics (which is why there are more than 10 on here :3)! And some I get mixed up bc I read them so long ago and near each other. (You can always browse my fave fic list here) But I’ve narrowed it to this list. These are the fics that really left impressions on me. They’re all amazing and deserve to be read and loved!!! So…have a TOP 27 FAVE STEREK FICS list :DDDD

1. Cry Havoc by ladyblahblah

In Beacon Hills, the two-year war that’s been raging between werewolves and hunters has begun spilling over onto the civilian population. Meanwhile, in Boston, when the tattoo on Stiles Stilinski’s back is damaged on a late-night hunt he begins to have dreams that lead him across the country, drawn by an inexplicable conviction that he’s needed there. When he discovers that Derek Hale began the war after his mate was killed, Stiles finds himself being offered a strange deal: figure out how to bring the alpha’s mate back, and peace talks can begin.

2. Where the Inevitable Isn’t by Survivah

Stiles has a magical thingamajig that’s supposed to get him out of danger. Trouble is, it took him really, really far out of danger. Like, to the point where he isn’t in the same universe anymore.

“A part of Stiles had been thinking that he’d come home, and just go, ‘hey, Derek, are we mates and you just haven’t said anything about it?’ and Derek would reply, ‘now you mention it, we are indeed! Now come to my bedchamber, where we will have super hot sex and then cuddle after!’”

3. Pack Up; Don’t Stray by the_deep_magic

AU – Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

4. Our Memories Are Numbered by rufflefeather

Stiles’ Jeep grinds to a halt, he sees someone running through the rain, he’s not expecting it to be Derek. He’s not expecting a Derek without any memories either, or an Alpha pack that’s coming for all of them. He probably should’ve, because lately nothing goes the way he expects.

5. Ad Astra Per Tentaculum by morganoconner

Space contains a multitude of different species, and Derek has seen and helped a lot of them in his time taking down branches of the slave-trade organization. But this is the first time he’s seen an Aloshrivnik. It’s not the tentacles that draw him in; it’s the goddamn eyes that stare at him without backing down.

“Stiles,” it says to him. “My name is Stiles.”

6. Part of My Melody by hayesgeneration

Derek is a professional classical musician who has found himself lost without a muse, without goal and without even a hint of spark. He’s almost settled nearly contently (if not slightly unwillingly) on having to live his life as a recluse, when his sister finally grows tired of his antics, giving him a Christmas ultimatum.

7. Littlest Alpha by triedunture

Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride.

But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”

8. Holding Your Own Weight by zjofierose

Stiles Stilinski is the best trapeze artist west of the Mississippi, but that doesn’t do him much good without a catcher. Enter one quiet roughneck who calls himself Derek and knows maybe a little too much about circus arts for someone who was hired to schlep tents. But Derek has his secrets, and so does the new girl, Allison. Who’s being hunted and who’s being haunted, and will Stiles ever be able to convince Derek to help him fly again?

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Skulls and Roses ☠️🥀

JUNGKOOK - COLLEGE AU, TATTOOIST AU. 

The best way to get someone’s attention is to get a tattoo or hit someone with your motorcycle. 

PART TWO

Originally posted by sugutie

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” you sprint across the quad, pushing past students and jumping over bushes and benches like a track star doing hurdles. The chanting of the curse word only gets louder and faster once you looked down at your watch once again and saw that your class would start in less than a minute and you were a mile away from the science building.

You’re too distracted with staring at your watch that you don’t notice that you’re in the middle of the street until your face is touching the rough pavement and some random guy is sprawled beside you. At first, you think that it’s a boulder that had fallen from the mountains that surrounded your campus but when your vision focused on the black lump you realized it was a helmet.

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2

A/N: I had planned his for a while and now it just seems perfect for Valentine’s Day. Enjoy!

Words: 1419
Warnings: mild smut (like, really mild but what do you expect, it’s Newt, he’s a cute and innocent puppy)

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Humans are Weird-Death

Hey guys, so I wanted to add to the humans are weird thing that’s going around, and this kinda came to me in the shower, so…enjoy?

Zah Rem was dying. They knew it the moment the Ra-Sek corridors of the station began to feel cold. It had been easy to dismiss the chill at first. The Humans always kept the main corridors to a barely tolerable 24 degrees Celcius, the Terran unit of heat. So Zah Rem had kept to Ra-Sek corridors, content to survey the movement of their officers from the comfort of warmer areas.

But then they had Stopped in the Ra-Sek sustenance area. The area was used infrequently as most of the new officers preferred to communal sustenance area, and so some time had passed before a Terran ensign accidentally stumbled across them. The human had run to get help, and that’s how Zah Rem found themself in the infirmary, a heat unit glowing above their bed as machines monitored every pulse of their internal fire.

To the Ra-Set, the Cooling was a very private matter. It was some small mercy really- a natural death for a Ra-Sek happened over the course of only days, and after the initial passing ceremony the Ra-Sek left the dying in peace to contemplate their life. At least, that’s how it had been before.

A human, mouth closed in a Ra-Sek neutral expression, sat at the end of their bed, eyes occasionally flicking between the machines and their pad. This one was the human counterpart of Zah Rems previous station and they knew this one well. She would not be leaving unless the dying process miraculously reversed. Humans always seemed to treat this like a logical possibility.

Zah Rem had lived such a long time, even for a Ra-Sek. They had seen the rise of space travel for their people, the first contacts with other races, some friendly, some hostile. They had seen stars flicker out of existence. And then, they had seen the arrival of Terrans. What a ludicrous, terrifying thing that had been.

The humans had arrived in strange, nonsensical machines seemingly only barely capable of long distance space travel. Most of them had arrived asleep. The Ra-Sek had initially been very wary of this smaller race. Humans could regulate their own body temperatures. Humans lived short lives but took life-threatening risks, seemingly for pleasure. Humans reproduced quickly and freely, having offspring even in space, so far from their own world. Humans would fight, losing limbs they could not regenerate, and then fight more.

In short, they were too dangerous not to make allies of. And so the Ra-Sek had, and in their many years, Zah Rem considered this one of the wisest choices of their people. The humans had helped them explore planets previously thought uninhabitable. They had seen human shipmates run headfirst into aggressive unknown flora and fauna and categorize it, collect it, and make it known. In one instance, they had seen the entire brunt of humanity brought to bear on a now extinct warmongering race, simply because this race had been dubbed “bullies that don’t play fair”.

The human shifted in her chair. “Hey dragon, still alive?”

Zah Rem exhaled a plume of steam. They knew this word referred to them, and that it was a reference to a Terran creature that may have never even existed. They had seen a picture once, and they did see the similarities to a Ra-Sek. That didn’t mean they had to answer.

The human sighed and flicked her eyes up and across, a human gesture of annoyance. “I know you’re alive, your monitors are going. I wanted to ask if you need anything.”

“Need? I am dying, there is nothing more I need.”

The human curled her upper lip, almost perfectly mimicking the Ra-Sek gesture of annoyance. Human mimicry really was uncanny. “I know that, but, is there anything you want? Water? Food? A book? Are you just…gonna sit there until it happens? Aren’t you…y’know, uneasy?”

Now that was a strange word to use for this state, and Zah Rem wondered if their translator had translated the Terran Common incorrectly. “Uneasy? Why would I be…Uneasy?”

The general shifted in her chair again, suddenly transfixed by her pad. “Well, I mean, are you…afraid?”

Zah Rem tilted their head, trying to mimic a gesture they had seen humans use. “Why would I be afraid? I am dying, this is a normal process for all living things.”

The human seemed frustrated, and Zah Rem once again saw the wisdom of their own tradition of leaving the dying to cool in peace.

“I know that! I just mean…aren’t you afraid of what happens next? Like, to you…after you die?” her shoulders curled inwards.

After…death? Zah Rem snorted. “Nothing happens after death. Death is the end of life…is it…is it not so for Terrans?” A pang of fear twitched in Zah Rem’s core. Humans…died completely, true? They thought of all their deceased human shipmates the other humans had burned, or buried under soil, and suddenly they were…uneasy.

The general waved at the air “Don’t call us that. And yeah, yeah, human’s die all the way too-“Relief. “But, some humans…we have this…idea, that a part of us, the sentient part, lives after we die. And, I don’t know where it goes, but death comes to collect it, and guide it to where it’s supposed to go next.”

“Death…comes? As in, the concept of death is…sentient? and… travels to the location of the dying to take their consciousness? Where? Why?” Zah Rem’s internal fire quivered, and the monitors began to chirp and hum in complaint.

“Woah woah take it easy!” Their human counterpart stood, touching their forelimb gently. This gesture would have been aggressive among Ra-Sek, but they had long since learned that humans touched other beings freely. Her hand was warm, and the heat soothed Zah Rem’s own heat. The monitors quieted.

“Y’know what? Forget I said anything, it’s just a dumb Terran myth. You wanna see this picture of a cat I found?”

And, for once, Zah Rem really, really did.

The next few days passed quietly. Healers checked the monitors as discreetly as possible and the general was a constant presence, sneaking back in every time the Ra-Sek healers shooed her out. For the most part, she worked on her pad, guiding the directors of her officers. Zah Rem was mildly envious of this, but they felt the cooling settling in, and they were content to reflect on past action instead.

Well, mostly content. Try as they may, Zah Rem could not shake the idea of death as a sentient presence, and tendrils of fear began to snake into the waiting, fear that, like in so many impossible ways, the humans might be right about death. They did not want their consciousness to be taken. They took to scanning the room when their human wasn’t looking.

This fear was probably what exacerbated the process. It happened suddenly, their internal temperature falling, falling, and the general was shouting, calling for help and Zah Rem knew they were beyond help, nothing could help, but they were so afraid of Death being attracted by the cries, if only they could-

And suddenly they were alone in a space that was not bright, and was not dark. They…no longer felt cold, but not warm either. It made Zah Rem…uneasy. And then they heard footsteps, and in the distance there was a small flicker of light.

The light drew closer and closer, and with it Zah Rem began to make out a figure in strange clothing. The figure wore long, black clothing that flowed downward, with a hood that obscured the head. It was carrying a long stick with what looked like a small ball of fire on top. They also saw the glint of long, sharp looking metal, reminiscent of a Terran knife.

Zah Rem bared their teeth. A weapon. This must be Death. If it was, it wouldn’t steal their sentience without a fight.

The figure closed in.

“Stop. Come no further.” Zha Rem growled. “I am Zah Rem of the Ra-Sek. I have seen races rise and fall. I have seen stars flicker out of existence. I have fought alongside humans. I will not let you take my consciousness.”

There was a moment of silence. And then a strange sound came from the hooded figure. A soft, musical sound, not unlike a Ra-Sek trill, very much like…a human laugh. The figure lowered it’s hood.

Of course, Death would be a human.

Zha Rem felt the anger leave them all at once. The human smiled, mouth closed, and reached its dark hand out to touch Zha Rem’s forelimb. Their touch was warm, and Zha Rem felt the warmth coil around  their core, lighting it once again.

“Are you ready to come with me?”

And Zah Rem found they were.

Perfect

Originally posted by jugheadjones94

Anon requests:can I request a Jughead Jones imagine where the reader moved from Riverdale a few years ago and comes back while the Jason Blossom death mystery (she knows what happened and all even Ms. Grundy) she and Jughead had a past together (like Jughead and Archie liked her and they were bffs but she liked Jug more) and they still love each other and Jughead sees her at school and it hits him that she’s back but he’s dating Betty and Archie still likes her and it pisses off Jug. The ending’s up to you :)

Could you do a Jughead x reader based on Perfect by Ed Sheeran??

Pairing: Jughead x Betty, Archie x Reader, Jughead x Reader

Description: An old childhood crush returns, and of course, drama ensues.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2,208

A/N: wow okay so I totally strayed from the prompts but I’m hoping you like it anyway?? Anyhow, enjoy!


I found a love for me

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

Jughead stood in the school hallway by Betty’s locker, talking and laughing with her.  His eyes almost missed a figure walking past him, but at the last second his gaze flickered to a girl striding down the hallway.  He did a double take as he realized who it was.

“(Y/N)?” he muttered under his breath, interrupting his conversation with Betty.

“What?” Betty asked, looking over her shoulder at the girl who just passed by.  “(Y/N)?  Didn’t she used to live around here or something?”

“Yeah,” he answered, breathless. “Yeah, but then she moved.”

“Well, I guess she’s back,” Betty replied, then steered the conversation back to their previous topic. Jughead nodded and responded to everything Betty said, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the girl who returned to Riverdale.

Jughead was not the only member of (Y/N)’s childhood to be shaken by her return; Archie spotted her roaming the hallways later that day.  His heartbeat started to quicken as the feelings for his childhood crush rushed back to him.

“(Y/N)!” he yelled, following her down the hallway.  She turned around at the call of her name, and when she noticed Archie, she broke out into a grin.

“Archie!” she exclaimed, walking towards him.  “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he answered, and they soon fell in step as they began to walk in the same direction.  “How are you?”

“I’m great,” she beamed.

“So you’re back,” he noted, a smile never leaving his face.  (Y/N) smiled and nodded.

“I am,” she replied.  “Just moved back a few days ago, actually.” The conversation lulled for a moment, neither (Y/N) or Archie knowing what to say.  “So how’s Jughead?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“He’s good,” Archie answered. “He’s got a girlfriend now.”  (Y/N) froze.

“Really?” she questioned, painting a smile on her face.  “Who?”

“Do you remember Betty Cooper?” Archie asked, and (Y/N) nodded.  “He’s dating her.”

“Oh wow,” (Y/N) fake laughed. “Honestly, I always thought she had a thing for you.”

“She did,” Archie shrugged, “but I didn’t feel the same.  She moved on to Jughead, I guess.”  The pair fell into a moment of silence again before the ringing of the school bell broke it.

“Well, I have to get to biology,” (Y/N) said, moving away from Archie.  Before she got too far, Archie called out after her.

“Hey, do you wanna catch up sometime?  Like maybe meet at Pop’s tonight?”  

“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled.  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

That night, when (Y/N) entered Pop’s, the first face she saw was not Archie.  Rather, it was Jughead, who she had not yet seen since she moved back. Scanning the diner to make sure Archie wasn’t waiting for her, (Y/N) walked towards Jughead’s booth.

“Jughead, hey,” she greeted as she approached his table.  He glanced up from his laptop to see (Y/N) standing over him.

“(Y/N),” he said with wide eyes. He slowly closed his laptop lid, then gestured for her to sit.  “You’re back.”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I am.”  Before Jughead could say anything else, the bell on the door jingled, signaling a new customer had entered.  It was Archie.  “Well,” (Y/N) said, standing up, “that’s my cue to leave.  See you around, Jug.”  Jughead tensed at the use of his old nickname, and he watched as (Y/N) walked over to Archie and sat across from him in a booth.  He felt his blood boil every time she laughed at something he said. Constantly, he reminded himself there was nothing to be jealous of, he had a girlfriend.  Somehow, that only made his longing for (Y/N) worse.

‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

Jughead, Archie, and (Y/N) were in third grade.  It was a hot summer day, filled with sticky popsicle hands, grass tickling the bottom of bare feet, and a bright sun radiating an immense amount of heat.  The children were running around in (Y/N)’s backyard with not a care in the world.  Suddenly, (Y/N) tripped and scraped her knee.  She cried out in pain, causing the boys to turn around in shock.

“(Y/N)!” Jughead exclaimed, both him and Archie running over to her side.

“Are you okay?” Archie asked, examining her knee.

“I’m fine,” she pushed both boys away.  “It’s just a scrape.”  This didn’t relieve the concerned looks from either of the boys’ faces, and (Y/N), looking directly at Jughead, repeated that she was fine.  Jughead reached out a hand and helped her up.

None of the children knew it at the time, but one day Jughead and (Y/N) would reflect on this day and realize that at this moment, something in their relationship changed.  There was a shift from friendship to love, and it all started on the day where (Y/N) scraped her knee.

I will not give you up this time

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own

And in your eyes you’re holding mine

Archie asked (Y/N) to Pop’s again. And again.  And again.  On the fifth visit, Archie confessed his feelings for (Y/N) and asked if they could call these trips to Pop’s dates.  (Y/N), although deep down she knew her heart belonged to someone else, agreed. Neither of them payed any attention to the slamming of the door at the front.  Jughead had stormed out after hearing the exchange.

“We should have a double date,” Archie suggested to Jughead one day during school.  Jughead rolled his eyes, slamming his locker shut.

“Why?” he questioned and began strolling down the hallway.  Archie followed.

“Because I think it’d be fun,” he answered, oblivious to Jughead’s jealousy.  “I mean we were both super close with (Y/N) when we were younger, and it’s not like her and Betty are strangers.  I think it’d be fun.”  He walked off, leaving Jughead alone to his thoughts.

Jughead weighed the pros and cons of going on this double date.  On the one hand, maybe having Betty and (Y/N) together in the same room as him might help set himself straight.  He was sick of feeling guilty every time he was around Betty.  But on the other hand, he was afraid of seeing (Y/N) with Archie.  Sure, he saw them together at Pop’s all the time, but if both of them were sitting in front of him, he would not be able to look away.  He’d be forced to watch as Archie wrapped his arms around (Y/N), and he’d have to see her laughing at all his jokes.  And the worse part would be that as he sat next to Betty, the only thing he’d be thinking about is how he wished to be in Archie’s place.

Finally, Jughead made up his mind and texted Archie his answer:

Yes.  Let’s do the double date.

The night of the double date arrived, and Jughead was second-guessing his decision.  Maybe this was a bad idea.  Or maybe it’ll be fine.  No, this was an awful idea.

They didn’t do anything fancy for the double date; all four of them agreed that Pop’s was the best place to go.  When Jughead arrived at the diner, the only other person there was (Y/N).  He approached the booth and slid into it across from her.

“Hey,” he greeted.  She smiled.

“Hey, Jug,” she responded. Neither of them said anything else, both of them caught up in their own whirlwind of thoughts.  This is how it should be.  This is how they should be.

“This was a mistake,” Jughead finally said, breaking the tension.  He stood up and began to exit.

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) called out after him.  He stopped and spun on his heel, but he didn’t come back to the table.

“Leaving, (Y/N), I’m leaving,” he answered, his voice sharp.  (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“I know that, dumbass, I mean why?”

“Because I can’t do this,” he threw his hands up in the air in frustration.  “I can’t sit across from you and watch you be happy with someone else.” Neither (Y/N) or Jughead noticed that Betty and Archie had just entered the diner.

“Why?  You can’t be happy for me?” (Y/N) demanded, stepping a tiny bit closer to Jughead.  He shook his head.

“No, I can’t,” he replied.  “Not when you’re happy with someone else.”  

“Then who do you want me to be happy with?”

“With me, goddammit!” he shouted. (Y/N) froze.

“With you?” she repeated, quieter. Jughead buried his face in his hands.

“Jesus,” he mumbled into his skin, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Well since you did,” (Y/N) took a couple more steps closer to Jughead, “why don’t you explain yourself?”

“I’m in love with you, okay?” he shouted, throwing arms up.  “Is that what you wanted to hear?  I have been in love with you since the third grade, and then you fucking left.  So I started dating Betty because I thought she made me happy, and dammit she does make me happy.  But then you came back, you just had to come back.  Now Betty, poor Betty, she doesn’t have a clue.  I still love you, (Y/N), but now you’re dating Archie and this is just a big pile of shit.”  (Y/N) stood there motionless, unable to move.

“Since the third grade?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.  Jughead nodded.

“Jughead,” Betty finally gained the courage to speak.  Her voice caught the attention of both Jughead and (Y/N), causing their focus to snap over to the blonde and the ginger standing in the entrance.

“How much of that did you hear?” Jughead groaned.  Betty smiled sadly.

“All of it.”

“You must hate me,” he said, and Betty shook her head.

“No, Juggie, I don’t hate you. But I do think you should’ve told me how you felt.”  She walked up to him, kissed him on the cheek, and then slowly walked backwards. “I’m not going to keep you from the girl you love.”  She sent him one more sad smile before exiting the diner, leaving Jughead, Archie, and (Y/N).

“Jughead,” Archie started, but Jughead held up his hand to stop him.

“No, Archie, this isn’t about me,” Jughead said.  “It’s about (Y/N).”  Both of the boys turned to face (Y/N), and she couldn’t help but recall that time when she scraped her knee.  That time where both of the boys showed concern for her, but she only appreciated it from one of them.

“(Y/N)?” Archie questioned. “It’s okay if you don’t want to… you know.”  She looked at him sadly.

“Archie,” she began, “I love you. I truly, truly do.”  Jughead deflated at this, and he was about to exit the diner when (Y/N) continued.  “But I can’t lead you on like this.  You’ve been one of my best friends since we were little, and I don’t want anything to ruin that.”  She didn’t have to say anything else, because Archie nodded in understanding.  He hugged (Y/N) tight, and they stood embracing each other in the diner, Jughead watching.  They pulled apart and Archie nodded at Jughead before he, too, left the diner.

Jughead and (Y/N) stood facing each other in the oddly vacant diner.

“So…” (Y/N) drawled.  “You love me?”

Baby, I’m dancing in the dark with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

Neither of them had any idea of what to say, so they agreed to go home and meet up again tomorrow.  Both (Y/N) and Jughead stayed awake the whole night, wondering what they were going to say to the other the next day.

That fateful day arrived, and (Y/N) walked into Pop’s, immediately spotting Jughead sitting in a booth.  She approached the booth, and as she neared it, Jughead looked up at the sound of her footsteps.  He smiled.

“Sorry, I’m kind of a mess today,” she laughed, gesturing to her disheveled state.  She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of leggings with a small hole in them, and her hair was falling out of its ponytail.

“You look perfect,” he whispered, not intending for her to hear it.  However, he realized he said it too loud when he saw her smile.  She sat down across from him.

“So you love me,” she repeated what he had said yesterday, and Jughead nodded.

“I do,” he replied.  (Y/N) pursed her lips for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed.

“I love you, too,” she finally said, barely above a whisper.

Well I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I’ll share her home

I found a love, to carry more than just my secrets

To carry love, to carry children of our own

We are still kids, but we’re so in love

Fighting against all odds

I know we’ll be alright this time

Darling, just hold my hand

Be my girl, I’ll be your man

I see my future in your eyes

His || Jungkook || 0.15

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13| 0.14 | 0.15

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Temptation (M)

A one-shot for a lovely anon. Enjoy it mate ;)

Moodboard

Jungkook and Reader

Genre: Werewolf! Jungkook, smut

Word count: 4,126 words

~•~•~•~

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Jungkook!”

No answer.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Jungkook!”

Still no answer. You didn’t care that an old lady walking behind you gave you a very dirty look before shuffling down the corridor to her own apartment. It was only the manners instilled by your parents that stopped you from shooting daggers right back at her.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“JEON JUNGKOOK! Open the fucking door right now or I -”

Your shouts as well as your fist froze in mid-air when the door whipped open to reveal the man whose name you’d been yelling at the top of your lungs.

“Why the hell are you banging my door down?” Jungkook’s frown and his tone told you that he was irritated, which fueled your anger even more. He had no right to be annoyed at you after the shit he had put you through today.

“Why weren’t you at work?” You managed to lower your volume now that there wasn’t a door separating the two of you, but you made sure that he knew how angry you were.

“I took a day off, but I’m sure you could have gotten that information from the HR.”

His flippant answer didn’t impress you one bit. “You know that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?” The question came out sounding incredulous, but you didn’t miss the uncomfortable shuffling of the guilty man. He knew what you were talking about. Before you could point it out, however, a high-pitched woman’s voice called from inside his apartment.

“Who’s at the door, babe? Come back to bed, I can’t wait anymore!”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

As inspiration form what happened to Mitch, can you write something about Nurse getting hit in the face with a puck

first of all, this is the funniest fucking prompt i’ve ever gotten, so thank you. also, he so would, oh my god, poor nursey

(for those of you unaware, this is the referenced hit.)

Nursey’s used to getting hit on the ice. He’s a d-man, it’s basically his job to take hits and dole them out.

Getting hit by a person and getting hit by a puck, though, are two very, very different things.

First of all, you tend to realize when you’ve been hit by a person–it’s pretty hard to miss. Hockey players are pretty big; when they slam into you, you notice. But at least they’re only usually moving twenty miles an hour, tops.

Pucks, on the other hand, can fly around eighty miles an hour.

That’s fast.

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A scene that 2x07 didn’t give us of Jace and Alec talking about Magnus

“I need you to leave tonight.”

Jace raised his eyebrows as he looked at where Alec was standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind his back, his expression firm and determined.

“It’s just for the night. You can come back tomorrow,” Alec continued before Jace even got a chance to say something back. “I know you can’t be at the Institute, but I heard that Luke has contacts all over the city who can help you find a place to stay. You could also stay with Luke, if you wanted to. I know that there’s a hotel by the Jade Wolf. Or maybe ask Izzy-”

“What for?” Jace tilted his head to the side, holding a copy of Pride and Prejudice that he was reading before Alec walked into his room in his hands. “Are you planning a surprise party for me?” He teased lightly. “I know you’re happy that I’ve been rescued from Valentine and all, but Alec, it’s okay, really.”

Alec rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. “You are so conceited.”

“Okay, so that’s a ‘no’ on the surprise party,“ Jace pouted and threw a pillow in Alec’s direction, which meekly hit his leg. “This is why you’re the archer, you have the best aim,” He mumbled and returned to the page that he left off on. “So, what’s the reason?”

Alec hesitated, trying to frame his sentence the way he wanted. He looked up at the ceiling as if he could see the words floating above his head and he was rubbing his fingers together. “I want tonight to be special.” He decided, smiling a little, as if he was proud of his phrasing, and pursed his lips, nodding his head a little as he waited for Jace to respond

Jace clutched at his heart dramatically. “You say that tonight is going to be special, but you don’t want your wonderful parabatai to be there? Alec, I am offended.” Alec sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Not for you. For me and Magnus.” He replied sincerely after a moment of silence and Jace looked up from his book with a start.

“For you and-?” Realization washed over Jace like waves crashing against rocks and his face formed into an almost insane grin. He practically threw his book down and it bounced off the bed and onto the floor with a loud and startling thump.

Keep reading

Tom Holland x Reader: Apartment

Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 7,132


No 1: the coffee maker incident (which was all harrison’s fault)

The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.

“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more, taking in the features of Tom’s place.

You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go catalog. None of it looks like him, and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow the sound of two voices into his kitchen.

“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.

There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but something akin, you could imagine.

“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”

“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify. “It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make anything.”

Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong. You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button again, just to be certain.

The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.

“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head. Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you remembered it being much shorter.

“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”

“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch, walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the island as you examined the coffee maker.

You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides, and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.

“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.

“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with something.

“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher. What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”

“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.

“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him think you weren’t the person for the job.

Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.

“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room, shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.

Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand and asking for a knife.

He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a sharper one.”

Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You snorted, wondering if he was actually afraid of you with a knife.

“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both bowed your heads with work to do.

This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze, attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in, waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.

Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.

He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.

“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it, holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going to stay anyways.

Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on, Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”

That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic thing. “For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.” There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.

The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door. 


No. 2: The incident where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong

You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I took this” without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.

Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back, revealing a brunette that was not Tom.

His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her feet and scram.  

It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly, as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.

You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your jealous mind.

“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.

Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.

Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and punch your teeth out.

The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of grey porcelain scattering across the floor.

You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little, resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.

Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.

She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut, leaving the two of you in the hall.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might have done this.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard, with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and it makes you so frustrated.

“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and says “You don’t have to do that. Just go on a date with me and we’re even.”

But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.

This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.


 No. 3: the incident where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)

It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.

And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde that would.  

It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend wasn’t around.

After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty, almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find the two (or three, there was no way she could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.

It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But it felt exciting.

You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.

The pounding in your head increased when you heard with clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door with your fist.

“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide grin upon seeing you at the door.

“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.

“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease, but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them the most.

Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man Tom has something to tell you.”

The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved Jacob weakly.

“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that followed proved otherwise.

After another round of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men, who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the entire situation read badly.

“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“

“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”

“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long. “We’ve met before.”

“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.

“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”

“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you off.

“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.

“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.

“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking between the four of them before sighing.

“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.

“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other chance!”

“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell her!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met’?”

It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as you struggled to understand.

Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t plan on telling you.

It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even bigger than that was the idea that each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked anyone to silence.

Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.

In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.

But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.

Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream


No. 4: the incident where the tables have turned

Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward. For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in one piece.

Maybe because you were the one seeing him.

Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed beyond compare.

Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted, “Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”

It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot, but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.

“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think was ‘So her name was Alice.’

You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind him that you were next door if he needed you.

In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time or place.

“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom joked, which you smiled at.

“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed, bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it, you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”

His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before, and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed like he belonged here, because he didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had going on here.

There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.

“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”

He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.

“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture. You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional human pyramid.

“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.

“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.

“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated, standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence, before looking over to Tom.

His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.

“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful. But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him, heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to look for.”

“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down. You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell him yes; absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was sure to be a discount somewhere.

But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly stepped towards you.

“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling his response.

Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights. Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would come true.

There was a calm silence that settled in between the conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.

“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You smiled, before jumping up.

“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue designed cup. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well, hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.

He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them all.

“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,” you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.

“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.

You stared around, wondering if you could find differences in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.


No.5: the incident where everything becomes clear

You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons only you can understand.

Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.

“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion, because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.

Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you regained proper footing.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.

You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you wanted.

You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex. And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that probably cost less than her foundation.

Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.

You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor in it.

The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.

So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him face you.

He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside his apartment on a daily basis.

His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles. Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part of you felt in place.

Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.

You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your lips.

He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You just did it, because? Just because you could?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in love with you too.”

Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.

“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head, causing him to peek at you through his fingers.

“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”

“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”

“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though, smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.

From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”

Something There

Overview: Four years have passed since the war and you and Draco are now soon to be married. But as his insecurities catch up to him, he begins to wonder why someone like you would ever want to be with a former Death Eater like him. For who could ever learn to love a beast?

Word Count: About 1,400.

Warning(s): Some fluffy fluff.

Note: Draco x Reader Beauty and the Beast retelling loosely based off of “Something There” (see below).


Draco watched as you twirled around the kitchen of the Malfoy Manor, a sterling silver spoon in hand. In a cozy robe and pajamas, he thought you were quite a sight. His favorite sight in the world, nevertheless.

“One more week,” you sang. “That’s seven more days until we’re married.” After placing your dishes in the sink, you sat down at the dining table next to Draco. “Can you imagine?”

“Seeing as we already live together,” said he, gesturing to the vast interior of the manor, “I quite easily can.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “It’s still not the same. Soon, we’ll be Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy.” You paused. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Although he replied with a nod, Draco couldn’t help but frown at the sound of his last name. What was once a word he flaunted about and held to the highest esteem had turned into a scarlet letter after the Second Wizarding War.

He furrowed his eyebrows, dragging his spoon along the rim of his bowl. Soon, you would bear the name Malfoy. Malfoy. A name tarnished and sent to Azkaban and back as nothing more than a patch on his parents’ clothing.

And the more he thought about it, the more Draco realized that wasn’t a burden he wanted to share with you.
__________

A day passed and Draco still had an unsettling feeling in his stomach. It wasn’t uncommon for him to wear long-sleeved shirts, but now he could hardly bare glancing at his Dark Mark.

Is this what being a Malfoy meant?

“Draco,” you said, climbing into the bed as you stared at his back, “what’s the matter?”

He tucked his hand under a pillow. “Nothing, love. Just tired, is all.”

“I don’t believe you.” He felt the mattress shift ever so slightly as you drew nearer to him. “Before all else, Draco, I am your friend. Before being your fiancée, your girlfriend, your anything– I’m still just your best friend.” You peered over at him, his eyes focused on the wall. “So why on earth would you expect me to believe that lie?”

Sighing, Draco turned on his other side to face you, propping himself up on his arm. He noticed the way you scrunched your nose in concern, a wrinkle appearing between your eyebrows.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong, babe,” you pleaded. Your face softened as you examined his tired eyes, bringing your hand to brush against the cold skin of his face. “Is it the wedding? Are we going into this too soon?”

“No, of course not. It’s not–” He took a deep breath, unsure of what he wanted to say. Draco captured your hand in his, pulling it near his chest. He stroked the calloused pad of his thumb against your knuckles absentmindedly. “If I had to describe you in one word, it would be perfection.”

You quirked an eyebrow, unsure of how to react. “I’m no where near perfect, but– Don’t try to change the subject.”

He let out an indignant chuckle. “I wasn’t finished. I only meant…Just look at yourself and then look at me.”

“I see a witch and a wizard.”

“Funny,” said Draco with a straight face. “But really look. Because when I look at you, I see a compassionate, intelligent woman who fights for what’s right.” His eyes darted to his clothed forearm, the black mark almost visible through his white night shirt. “When I look at myself, I see is a monster. A beast. A coward, at best.”

You stayed silent, Draco’s hand still in yours. “I think your perception is tainted,” you said, withdrawing your hand from his to gently push back at his sleeve. He caught sight of a sliver of his Dark Mark, causing him to wince. Draco saw you reaching for a black marker next to your journal on the nightstand.

You uncapped it, taking hold of his hand.

“What are you–”

You silenced him with a brief kiss on the lips. You sat up and moved his arm onto your lap. “When I see you, Draco, I see someone who shouldn’t be defined by their mistakes.”

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“Platonic” Bed-sharing: A Snowbaz Fic

In which there is much Snowbaz fluff. 

Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to Rainbow Rowell!


“Snow. No”

“Snow yes!”

Simon Snow is a complete nitwit. Baz thought.

The two boys were at a standoff. Baz always knew that Simon was plagued with nightmares. Some nights the sound of the curly-haired angel of a boy would keep him up until faint streaks of sunlight drifted through their bedroom door. He had never gone off in his sleep though. This was certainly new.

“Please Baz! My spine is too fucking boney to sleep on the ground. Do you want me to be miserable all night?” He was pleading now, his blue eyes wide, accentuating his freckles.

He was standing there in their chamber looking like an innocent child in a too-tall body. He was hugging a spare blankets and a pillow to his chest. His lanky, skinny limbs looked even skinnier in his baggy Watford pajamas. All his scone eating hadn’t done anything to increase his weight. Must be the pressure of seventh year getting to him.

“As a matter of fact, yes I do want that.” Yes, get bruises all over your perfect back you idiot. That’s what you get for being so attractive.

“If you don’t share your bed I’ll make sure you’re miserable all night too!”

It was a measly threat to Baz. He was already miserable enough every night to have the Mage’s Heir tormenting him through his presence every day and night. He rolled his eyes and smoothed out a single wrinkle in his bedsheets.

“Don’t ignore me! It’s just for one night. I won’t even touch you, I promise.”

Baz fluffed up his pillow. He could physically feel Simon’s glares.

“Come on man! S’not my fault Watford doesn’t have any spare beds lying around!” There was an intoxicating electric tingle to the air. Simon was getting too worked up about this. “If I have to sleep on the ground because of you I will go off on your bed and we’ll both be cold and sore from sleeping on the fucking stone floor.”

That was certainly a threat Simon could get away with doing, despite the anathema. Damn him. Baz thought.

“Okay. Fucking fine!” It came out more harshly than Baz intended.

Simon took a step back, the threads of his magic retreating immediately. It was certainly frightening how closely tied Simon’s magic was to his emotions.

“Thanks. I promise. This is just for tonight. I’ll build a spare bed myself if it means I don’t have to sleep with you.”

Baz snorted. Simon. Building something. Now that would be something. He sighed in annoyance as he realized sharing a bed with Simon would make it extremely difficult to sneak of to drink tonight.

“I’m going to change into my nightclothes. Make yourself at home, Snow.” He said sarcasm dripping from his voice like water from a leaky faucet.

Simon nodded. He looked exhausted.

Baz went to change his clothes in the bathroom. He stared at his own grey eyes in the mirror. His pupils were dilated and if he had more blood in him, he would probably would look flushed. He felt a surge of nervousness and anticipation.

Sharing a bed with Simon Snow. Simon fucking Snow. How on bloody earth am I supposed to not kiss the moles on his neck if he is bloody next to me?

This would certainly be a long night.

Emerging from the bathroom, Baz saw Simon fixing up a sheet to work as a divider in the middle of their already small twin bed.

“What the fuck are you doing Snow?” Baz asked incredulously.

“I thought it’d be more comfortable if there was a like… physical barrier between us.”

“Whatever floats your boat you nitwit.”

Baz carefully folded his Watford sweater, placing it in a drawer, and hung up his trousers. Then he stood by his bed, eyeing a reclining Simon.

“I promise I won’t bite or go off on you tonight Baz. And don’t even think about doing anything to me. Anathema, remember.”

Baz rolled his eyes and climbed into bed. He laid on his side, facing away from the boy he wanted to kiss ever since they met. Simon had already turned out the light. It was just the two of them now. Lying side by side. Lit by moonlight.

This would be incredibly romantic if were an entirely different pair of boys. And both gay.  Baz thought.

He heard Simon sigh. He could feel heat radiating of him in waves. He was so hot. Baz didn’t understand why Simon even bothered to use a blanket. He was already a walking furnace. In more ways than one. Baz swallowed, bit his tongue and did his best to repress the urge to turn and kiss the living hell out of Simon.

Moments passed in silence. Simon’s breath faded into a rhythm. But it wasn’t how he sounded when he was sleeping. More like he was relaxed.

Baz was not relaxed. It felt like every atom of his undead existence was on edge. He was going to have to spend at least eight hours lying like this with the boy he loved and wanted most lying next to him. This was all a terrible mistake.

A gentle touch and a whispered “Baz!” made his entire body flinch. The hand immediately retreated and Baz immediately wished it back.

“Blimey Snow! What the fuck do you want?” He turned to look at the boy.

It was a mistake.

Simon looked ethereal. His eyes were soft and tired. His bronze hair was silver and shone under the starlight. His lips. Crowley his lips looked devourable.

Baz swore he felt his vampire heart have a seizure in his chest. He was tingling all over. This was a mistake. He should just go stalk the Watford grounds and sleep under a tree or some shit. Even a cold Autumn night spent outside would be better than this infernal torture.

“Baz. Why are we like this?”

“Like what, idiot?” Baz spat a bit.

The bead of saliva landed on Snow’s pillow. Baz wished it had landed on Simon’s face. Then he wished he hadn’t thought that.

“Why do we hate each other?”

Baz sighed in exasperation. But some force he wasn’t entirely in control of made him turn completely onto his side and face Snow full-on.

“I don’t know! Maybe my parents hate your adopted father because he stole all that was good from our family?” Baz’s words raised in volume. 

He was getting annoyed.

Annoyed that Simon looked so calm. Annoyed that they could kiss right that moment Annoyed they weren’t kissing. Annoyed that it was even a possibility in his mind. He wanted to glare at Simon. But he was so tired. And thirsty.

This was a mistake.

Simon was silent for a moment. He seemed to be studying the wall behind Baz. Then he was studying Baz’s face and time seemed to stop.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot, Baz. None of this stupid rivalry makes any sense!”

“Welcome to the real world.”

“Sure. But right now. I’m scared.” Simon’s voice was getting soft and small.

He was so small and pale and delicate in that moment. Baz felt an insuppressible need to protect him. It made his heart feel like it could burst out of his chest and fly away.

“Scared?” Baz found his voice was getting softer now too.

Why. Why? He needed more control than this. Everything that was expect from him wasn’t what he really wanted. He had to stop his feelings. But he couldn’t. He had made a terrible mistake.

“I’m scared of the Humdrum. Of losing the people I care about. Penny. The Mage. Agatha. You.”

Baz coughed in suprise. Not a sarcastic cough. A genuine “what-the-fuckity-fuck” cough.

“I’m scared of sleeping tonight because I don’t want to wake up and find that I’ve destroyed everything I love.” Simon looked almost like he was going to cry.

“Are you afraid you’ll go off again tonight?” Baz asked.

Simon nodded ashamedly. Baz didn’t really feel concerned that Simon could hurt him. He felt concerned that Simon was sad. They laid there in silence, staring at each other.

Then, then, Simon took the sheet that was separating them, cast it aside, and flung his arms around Baz. Baz was too shocked to react for a moment. He couldn’t exactly fathom how this moment was real. Slowly, he wrapped an arm back around him.

“S-simon?” He managed.

“Sorry.” He muttered into Baz’s shirt. “I think I just needed a hug.”

“You want a hug from your mortal enemy in a bed?”

Baz could feel Simon sigh in response. Then he drew back but not that far back.

“I don’t know.”

“Alright.”

They stared at each other. Baz knew his eyes probably looked as wide as Simon’s did. What did this all mean? What was Simon trying to accomplish through this? Did he know how Baz felt and was trying to manipulate him?

Manipulation or not, whatever Simon was doing was working.

Simon’s hand encircled his and he froze.

Physically and mentally, he froze.

Baz had so many questions. So many demands to make.

Why did Simon care about him?

Why on earth did Simon think hugging the boy who had only made him miserable would accomplish anything?

Why were they holding hands in a bed?

What the fuck was happening?

Why were they not kissing?

They should kiss.

He wanted Simon to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Simon.

“Simon?” He whispered.

“Kiss me.” Simon whispered back.

And he did.

With All My Heart - Part 1

Word Count: 1922

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Hospitals 

A/N: There will be no separate taglist for this series. For all updates, turn on post notifications for @torn-and-frayed-writes

With All My Heart Masterlist


Five hours for one stupid mishap. Jensen couldn’t believe his own stupidity. One minute he was cutting vegetables to make himself dinner, the next the knife slipped and he’d damn near cut his own thumb off. He knew it would need at least a few stitches so instead of calling Jared and listening to the teasing forever, he wrapped it up and drove himself to the hospital where he sat for five hours before finally getting seen.

He was on his way out when he saw you waiting to check in. You didn’t look great; pale, sweaty, slightly shaky. You took a breath and he saw your eyes roll back. He knew the look and he sped into action, catching you as you collapsed, stopping you from hitting the ground. “Can I get some help?” Jensen yelled. “She just passed out!”

“What happened?” A group of nurses and a doctor rushed out with a gurney, taking you from Jensen and lying you down. “Did you bring her in?”

“No.” Jensen shook his head. “I was on my way out and I saw her about to faint. I caught her. I have no idea who she is. She’s burning up though.”

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Winteriron, "You're surprisingly warm for someone called the Winter Soldier"

This is cute!


Tony sneezed; once, twice. A chill runs up his spine and across his shoulders. It’s currently smack dab in the middle of winter and, despite the heat being circulated throughout all the rooms in Avengers Tower, he still feels cold. He has long since ditched his jeans and well-worn AC/DC tank top for sweats and a hoodie. At this point, he is contemplating gloves or just going to bed. 

Cranky, Tony more or less storms his way towards the kitchen on the main floor for a cup of coffee. He’d do hot chocolate, but FRIDAY informed him that Clint drank the last bit earlier that day and didn’t inform anyone. Now the streets were covered in thick blankets of snow and no service would be willing to deliver in this sort of weather. Not that Tony wanted them too. Safety of one’s self and all that. 

“Barton’s a lazy ass,” Tony mumbles to himself while shoving his hands, aching from the cold, into his hoodie’s front pocket. “Could have said something.”

It’s nearing midnight now and he had been in the workshop juggling a new circuit board while taking calls left and right from Pepper and Rhodey. Pepper staying in California (that lucky lady!) and Rhodey visiting family overseas, but both making time to talk to him. 

Most, if not everyone, has retired for the day. A sort of sleepy mood taking over the superhero residence as the snow drifts from the sky. Steve mentioned something about everyone playing in the snow sometime tomorrow. Probably after breakfast. Clint and Thor were instantly down with that. Natasha only grinned and Bruce offers a small smile. Then there was Barnes who didn’t react much to the idea of being out in the “snowy wonder” as Steve called it. Tony, however, passed almost as quickly as it was brought up. 

Snow is cold and wet. Two things Tony hates very much. But at Steve’s fallen face, Tony offers a list of Christmas-themed movies they could watch together. And relaxes when Steve accepts.

Upon finding the kitchen, Tony doesn’t bother turning on the light. It’s his tower. He designed it piece-by-piece and knows where everything is located. Even so, some light is supplied from the hallway right outside the kitchen. Just enough that he can see his coffee maker and just a bit beyond that.

Coffee going, Tony turns to the fridge to grab the milk. Opening it up, he scans the inside. 

“We’re out of milk too?” Tony groans.

“It’s on the table.”

Tony jumps. Anxiety coursing through his veins, he turns around and, with the light from the fridge, sees Barnes sitting at the table with a bowl, the new box of Fruit Loops, and the jug of milk.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes! Warn a guy, would ya?!” Tony snaps while closing the fridge.

“FRIDAY, kitchen lights at 25 percent.”

A dim, almost orange, light is suddenly cast over the kitchen. With the light, Tony is now staring at a shirtless Barnes in Bugs Bunny pajama pants who just casually spoons more cereal into his mouth. 

“Why are you eating in the dark, Barnes?”

Barnes shrugs. “Got good sight.”

“Oh, well. Warn a guy next time, please.”

“Okay.”

Tony blinks. “Right. Well, carry on.” He takes the milk from the table and sets about making himself the perfect cup of coffee all while Barnes chills at the kitchen table eating cereal.

When he’s done, he turns back to the table to Barnes frowning at the box in his hands.

“Uh, what’s wrong?”

“The cereal is all gone.” He ends with a pout.

Tony blinks because that shouldn’t look cute. He blames Barnes’ floppy long brown hair and five o’clock shadow.

“Get another box?” Tony suggests.

“This was the last of that kind.”

“Get a different box?”

“But I liked this one,” Barnes mumbles while scowling at the box like it is the most offensive thing in the world.

Tony’s mouth twitches into a smile. 

“Okay, well, I’m gonna’ go watch pre-recorded episodes of Iron Chef America so you’re welcomed to join if you want.” And he walks out of the kitchen.

Moments later, Barnes shuffles out of the kitchen to observe the living room. There’s only an available seat next to Tony. All the other seats were covered in the team’s junk. He tentatively sits next to Tony, back ridged from the close proximity. 

“Chill out, snowflake. I won’t bite…unless you’re into that.”

And just like that, Barnes sags into the couch next to Tony. They sit there for nearly an hour when Tony shifts closer. It’s close to 2 AM when Tony just straight up presses against Barnes. 

“Something wrong, Stark?”

“You’re surprisingly warm for someone called the Winter Soldier,” Tony replies all mysterious like. 

Barnes blinks once, twice, thrice, and then he’s laughing. Tony blinks up at him, sees the mirth in his eyes, and finds himself grinning.

“Whatever you say, Stark.” He brings his arm up and wraps it around Tony’s shoulders and pulls him closer.

The end!