there are fics for that

5

Dear Ms Willhelmsen,
We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did was wrong but we think you’re crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we are.
What do you care?
You see us as you want to see us, in the simplest terms, with the most convenient definitions.
You see us as a homo, a slut, a basket case, a princess, and a terrorist. Correct?
That’s the way we saw each other at 7 o’clock this morning. We were brainwashed.

Prologue: When You Grow Up, Your Heart Dies - by @monstermonstre

2

Push My Buttons

harry/louis, enemies to lovers, 1.7k

“Fuck off.” Louis leans into this boy’s personal space just to show how unaffected he is, even if it is technically a bluff. “My team’s winning.”

The boy crowds right back into him with a smug look, and that turns out to be their downfall—a large man to his left nudges his arm and gestures to the jumbotron, where Louis and fucking Newsboy are currently encased in a cartoon heart with the words KISS CAM burning brightly above them.

based on this text post

What I Read This Week

(28/5/17)

I am SO ready for summer, I can’t wait until my finals are over so I can read more fics! There were some awesome updates this week and I also read some great new fics, enjoy!

Of Bright Stars and Burning Hearts by Reiya, Explicit, 70k (WIP)
One small change alters the course of both Viktor and Yuuri’s entire lives, throwing them into a bitter rivalry that spans across many years and creates a world where they both tell a very different side to the story. THIS UPDATE KILLED ME ONFNJSDKBF every update kills me tbh bUT STILL

Canoe-dling: Not Prohibited by shereadsthestars, Mature, 12k
Yuuri is a seasoned counselor at Camp Okenoko who thought he was in for just another run of the mill, shenanigan filled summer with his friends. But he could not have been more wrong as he’s inevitably blindsided by the newest arrival.Enter one Viktor Nikiforov, who’s got the charms and good looks to woo whomever he pleases, and who’s interest is instantly peaked by none other than, Yuuri Katsuki. SO FUNNY OMG I died laughing while reading this omg LOVE!!

Singular by TrashKanForLife, Explicit, 14k (WIP)
Yuuri fiddled with the hem of his sweater, overwhelmed by the sheer formality of this floor. He’s sure his favoured pair of sneakers only cover about twentieth of the costs for the workers’ footwear and he wonders if they pay the salon daily for their sharp appearances. Yuuri does not belong here.
“Mr. Nikiforov will see you now.” 50 Shades of Grey AU but a kajillion times better!!! Must read!!!

The Bulge (Don’t Bring a Weapon to a Public Beach) by nagoyadelay, Mature, 2.9k
Victor posts a photo of Yuuri on instagram without realizing that it’s somewhat suggestive. A thirsty skating fandom collectively loses their shit. Another HILARIOUS fic, you have to read this!!

The Suffering of Potya by kiaronna, Teen, 3.8k
At first, Potya believes he’s going to the veterinarian. This means a great deal of cursing from Yuri, as he tries to unsuccessfully lure Potya into the pet carrier. But as in all things, his human wins, and Yuri stalks out the door with carrier in hand, only twenty minutes late. Potya accepts his fate.
Soon, he realizes greater horrors are in store for him: Yuri’s dropped him off with the dopey poodle couple, the snuggly and curly bastards. SO cute, I love how this is from Potya’s and the other pets POV!

Nocturne by Nostalgia-in-Starlight (UniverseEndingParadox), Mature, 6.9k (WIP)
It’s a charmed life, rife with luxury and glamour and a doting husband who gives him the world on a silver platter. But it’s also a peculiarly lonely life, being married to the underboss of one of the biggest ‘yakuza’ in operation. Victor wouldn’t trade it - or his husband - for any other world. Wow, LOVE this mafia AU, one of my faves for sure!

Money Shot by Ashida, Explicit, 21k (WIP)
So Yuuri waited, felt his heart edge back down from his throat as Victor let him catch his bearings, as he just sat and watched Yuuri calm down, patient even though the time he was paying for was ticking. “Strip for me, Yuuri.” came his first instructions in the lull of silence, the same words he always got, and this is how it always began. Guuuuuuuuuuurl I cannot WAIT to see what happens next after that update!!!

And Once Upon a Song by missmichellebelle, Teen, 12k (WIP)
A popular high school ice hockey star and a shy, academically gifted transfer student discover they share a secret passion for singing. When they end up accidentally auditioning for the lead roles in the school musical, it threatens East High’s rigid social order and sends their peers into an uproar. High School Musical AU!! Do I need to say more?? So good!

Kintsugi by witchbane, Explicit, 90k (WIP) ***Graphic depictions of violence (read the tags!)
Yuuri Katsuki is a hitman burdened with a debt he can never repay. His target: Viktor Nikiforov, next Pakhan to one of the most dangerous families in the Russian mafia. When the two are drawn into a treacherous alliance after a mission gone wrong, the bonds of love and loyalty to family and duty begin to unravel—even as they get more tangled up in each other. SUPER intense mafia AU that I am absolutely obsessed with! Not for the light of heart, but if you’re interested I would HIGHLY recommend this if you’re into mafia AUs!

(˃̶͈̀_˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾( ノ_ಠ)₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎

Here’s to another week of great fic reading! Be sure to give the authors some love!

Otabek and Yuri (because they’re both little shits) sometimes start ironically talking to each other like Viktor and Yuuri, exaggerated ten-fold, all corny endearments and swooning declarations of undying love, trying to out-ridicule each other. Otabek can be incredibly dead-pan about it, while Yuri finds it hard to keep a straight face. 

Neither would admit it, but they’re secretly enjoying all the lovey-dovey stuff and this is a perfect outlet.

All the Supergirl writers have to do is send Maggie to DC to set up a Science division task force at the request of the President.

She’ll be gone for 6 months out of the year and home on weekends and long holidays.

Imagine all the thoughtful Skype/Phone smut fluff that @queercapwriting and @bathtimefunduck will need to write!

Originally posted by lathepanda

Originally posted by jettblacckheartt

@hellogarbagetime wanted to be mean to Tony, so here is Commander Rogers forgetting about Tony’s b-day. Happy birthday, Tony, enjoy.


Steve stumbled into his room, utterly exhausted. He looked at the pile of paperwork awaiting him and the vision of spending yet another evening on it was almost more painful than the bruises from his last Secret Avengers mission. It needed to be done, though, so he striped out of his uniform and took a quick, hot shower to ease the lingering pain. Then, he splashed his face with cold water, and sat down to sign everything that needed signing.

When he was done, he looked at the clock and saw it was after nine … and he was late. He sighed. He was supposed to meet up with Tony, just pizza and movies, working on rebuilding their friendship—and he didn’t want not to go; everything between them was so fragile still.

But he was so tired. He’d probably just fall asleep and then Tony would be upset. He would be late anyway.

He fired off a quick text to Tony. Sorry, Shellhead, I’m beat—mind if I take a rain check on this movie?

The read icon flashed almost immediately, so he waited until Tony’s reply.

And waited.

Tony usually texted so fast Steve barely had time to look away from his screen when he finished his own message.

He’d gotten worried before Tony finally texted back, Sure. Just one word.

Huh. Maybe Tony forgot about their meeting himself, cooped up in his workshop. Steve was too exhausted to consider it further. He switched off his phone and went to sleep.

***

The following days, Steve was too busy between SHIELD and the occasional Avenging to write to Tony. Tony should understand, Steve excused himself, he was rebuilding his company, he knew what it was like to juggle too many jobs.

Mostly, Steve was scared of messing something else up. It was easier if Tony reached out first.

But Tony didn’t.

***

Steve was channel-surfing when he spotted Tony on tv and focused on the program.  Tony talked about Stark Resilient, their plans for the RT-powered car and more RT-tech in the future. Steve watched him fondly. He always liked seeing Tony talk about his projects. His whole face came alive, and he gestured, obviously excited.

“And that’s all for tonight,” the presenter said finally. “Thank you, Mister Stark – and we hope you had a good birthday!”

Tony smiled, but there was something off about it: he was no longer enthusiastic. This was his perfected press smile and Steve hated it. “Thank you.”

What could—

Oh. Oh.

Tony’s birthday.

Steve didn’t have to look at the calendar to confirm his sudden horrible realisation.

Of all the days he could’ve blown Tony off—he was an idiot. And he hadn’t even realised. Good job rebuilding friendship, Rogers.

He had to make it up to Tony.

His mind went into tactical mode. His first thought was, of course, to throw Tony the best party ever, but he discarded it quickly. Tony hadn’t prepared a party this year, no; he’d just invited Steve in for a quiet night.

Steve swallowed. He’d just invited Steve. Tony wanted to spend time on his birthday with Steve and Steve only.

Steve really hoped he wasn’t misinterpreting it.

***

Steve showed up on Tony’s doorstep the next day, a cardboard box with the sweetest chocolate cake he could find in New York in one hand, and a bouquet of red and richly yellow roses in the other.

“Wow,” Tony said at his sight. “Did I miss something?”

“I did,” Steve said. “I’m sorry.”

Tony shrugged. “No big deal,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at Steve. “I know you’re busy. I might not remember the job, but—”

I’m sorry,” Steve repeated. “I should’ve remembered.” He offered the flowers to Tony. “Happy birthday.”

Tony seemed uncertain as he accepted them, but he smiled. “I appreciate the colours,” he said, turning to walk inside.

“I also have a cake,” Steve said, following Tony.

“I hope you realise this means I’ll subject you to a Star Trek marathon while we eat every last crumble,” Tony joked.

“I hoped for that,” Steve said honestly. “And …”

He hesitated. He never used to hesitate with Tony, but maybe that was a good thing, maybe there could be a new beginning here too.

Tony put the flowers in a vase and turned to Steve, raising an eyebrow. “And?”

Don’t be a coward, Rogers.

Steve leant in and pressed a quick kiss to Tony’s lips before he could talk himself out of it.

Tony stared at him, wide-eyed and silent.

“I—” Steve started saying, but Tony shook his head to stop him.

“That’s your idea of a late birthday gift?” he asked.

Steve wasn’t sure what to say.

“You could at least make it a proper kiss,” Tony said. “If it’s the only one—”

“No,” Steve said. “Not the only one. Just the first.”

And then he leant in for the second. Tony met him half-way.

neil talks to andrew about baltimore.

tw for burning, ptsd, panic attacks, torture

neil felt his arms tied behind his back. he wasn’t in the car, wasn’t in any room or any real place. it was just dark. black. he couldn’t see anything, but could feel the tight metal of the hand cuffs scrapping into his wrists. the world was a mindless shape, an empty space.

beside his ear, he heard lola. she whispered cruel nothings beside him, taunting him, torturing him with words. threatening the foxes. threatening his family. she told him what she was going to do to him. 

“i’m going to set your body on fire,” she told him, and he cringed, curling into himself. “i’m going to carve you into pieces.”

and he knew she was not lying because he could feel the fire on his arms, crawling up to his face, flames wrapping around him. he could see the ugly red and orange overlapping his skin. he was crying, begging, pleading as he felt his body boil and burn.

neil woke up in a cold sweat.

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Heart on the Line (part 8)

Masterlist

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: 1081

Keep reading

This Is War [12]

Summary: After being rejected by your best friend Bucky, Sam sets you up with one of his friends, on the condition that if the date doesn’t go well, you have to sign up for a dating app. The date doesn’t go well. As you begin to look for love in other places, Bucky starts to feel something he never felt before. Jealous.

Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 1359

Warnings: It’s angsty again.. There’s crying.. I’m sorry..

A/N: The next part will be the last!! Thank you everybody who has stuck with me on this one for so long!! Your feedback has been incredible!! Thank you all so so much xo

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The Annoyance Next Door by thenoahfosterr

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 27569

Derek loves his apartment. It’s big, spacious, and it makes him feel free. It’s conveniently located near a twenty-four hour grocery store, and near enough to most of his friends that he can see them whenever he likes. It’s in Oakland city, a couple of days drive from Beacon Hills.

He’s a very successful architect, so technically he could have a house if he wanted, but he likes the apartment. Likes the space it gives him.

There’s only one small problem - and it probably wouldn’t even irritate him if he was a sociable person - his neighbour. He’s never met 403 in person but he knows he wouldn’t like him. The guy makes so much damn noise, and he only knows it’s a man from the amount of deep voiced swearing he hears whenever something is dropped.

But neighbours aside, it’s a great apartment. He loves living alone.

If Destined

Summary: “Do you ever meet someone and it’s so clear that the two of you, on some level belong together?” [Based from this post]

Word count: 884

A/N: I am horrible at titles


Y/N’s angry.

She’s angry because Bucky cares about everyone but himself. That he’d risk his own life without hesitation if it meant keeping everyone else safe. There isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t blame himself. He wallows in self pity making everything so much worse. All he wants to do is redeem himself to the world, to Fury. He wants to pay for the mess he’s made, for the sins he committed.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’ll kill yourself!”

Bucky replies through the comms. “Don’t you think I know that?” Y/N wanted to leave the quintjet but Sam ordered her to stay on guard. She’s anxious and she feels useless knowing that there’s nothing she could do to help.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Buck.”

What better way to tell the man you love him when he decides to jeopardize his life?

“Now isn’t the time, Y/N.” Ragged breathing is heard on the other side of the line with the steady thumping of footsteps through the hallways before he speaks once more. “We did it. We’re on our way back.”

They escape almost instantly, taking uneven breaths as they jog their way through the door. Her eyes are filled with worry, his brown locks stuck to his neck from the sweat and blood, there are cuts on his face and he’s bleeding through his sleeves but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“What is it that you wanted to tell me?” He buckles his seatbelt as they prepare to take off.

She shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”

He’s done enough that the team has forgiven him long ago, that Tony has mentioned at least thrice that he’s family now. But Bucky still thinks otherwise and Y/N knows that no one but himself can change that.

It was during their Sunday barbecue when he catches her staring. He had a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Y/N looks away almost instantly and walks right up to Clint, asking him if he needed help grilling the rest of the meat. Bucky purses his lips, throwing the cigarette butt to the ground before he trudges back inside the compound. Ten minutes pass by when they noticed that he’d disappeared.

She volunteers to go look for him as they all take their seats on the picnic table. It’s no surprise when he is found in his room. His safe place.

"Everyone’s waiting for you. What’s going on?”

"You need to stop, Y/N.” He says quietly.

“I’m sorry?” She stammers as an unsettling feeling wells up inside of her.

Bucky’s hand is clenched on his side, the whirring of metal echoing around the room. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me? There’s no need for you to feel sorry.”

"If you don’t care about yourself, someone should.”

"I didn’t ask you to! I don’t need it Y/N, I don’t need you.” Bucky looks at her with eyes wide open, her lips are trembling and a lump begins to form in his throat. He knows that he’s gone too far.

But it’s too late now. “Just go.”

All has been said and done, because Bucky’s a crashing wave. Calm but destructive. He’s aware of the damage he’s caused.

“Alright.” It’s fucking pathetic— the way she whimpers. The team is silent when she returns. Wanda gives her hand a comforting squeeze and Y/N clears her throat before speaking up. “What did I miss?”

Sam continues his conversation with Scott, questioning him about his choice of skill. “You get to see insects up close then?” He nods his head, obviously irritated when Sam gags in disgust.

“You don’t complain over the webs coming out of Spider-boy. Why doesn’t that bother you?”

“That’s because they aren’t real.” Sam shoots the young man a look. “Right?”

Still chewing on a piece of grilled chicken, Peter manages to answer with a muffled “yes.”

She finds herself by the windowsill soon after lunch was over. A part of her accepts the fact that Bucky would never love her the way she wanted him to. Perhaps choosing to love him in silence is what’s best for both of them. The floorboard creeks behind her causing to lose her train of thought, realizing she had left the door to her bedroom unlocked.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I’m selfish, I know.” The funny thing is that he’s the total opposite. She doesn’t respond, cracking her knuckles instead. It’s a bad habit she’s been trying to break for awhile now. The silence he received was deafening, it was as if he could hear his blood pumping through his veins.

“Y/N—“

“Do you ever meet someone and it’s so clear that the two of you, on some level belong together?” Bucky doesn’t move, his figure still reflecting through the window. Brooding, stiff, uneasy. Their eyes finally meet, her gaze boring into him as she lets out a shaky breath in an attempt to regain her composure. “I don’t know if that makes me believe in coincidence, or fate, or sheer blind luck, but it definitely makes me believe in something.”

“I never believed in such a thing.”

He takes a step closer.

“Not until I met you.”


Masterlist

Request

French Girls | Shawn Mendes Imagine

A/U: I guess this is what I call a fucking blurb. HAAH OKAY . Also shout out to @nobravery for helping me with all this French!! 

Word Count: 2,918

Songs:   From Gold - Nova Amor (Shawn’s) & La vie en rose - Édith Piaf (Her’s) 


“Your music taste is so… nice.” I said as I crossed my legs on Shawn’s bed.

It was late in the evening and it was dark already outside. Shawn’s window was cracked open and I could hear crickets between song changes.

“You don’t sound confident in that statement,” Shawn said smiling as he stood up from this dresser that had his average sound system on top.

I smiled nervously. “No, no. I do mean it, it just that it’s a little different from mine, but I still really like it.”

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✧:・*i need u | four*:・✧

description : taehyung catches the attention of the one curious girl ❀

pairing : taehyung x reader ❀

genre : angst ❀

mentions of : smoking, drugs, sex, violence, weapons, partying ❀

word count : 3890 ❀

part one - part two - part three - part four

“The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.”

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Of Hidden Talents (Feysand Fluff)

So this just popped into my head last night when I couldn’t sleep. Set post-ACOWAR and contains nothing but fluff.

“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Feyre found herself commenting, smiling slightly as she tried not to groan in pleasure under Rhys’ hands.

He chuckled from where he was seated behind her, the sound sending a thrill through her spine, even decades into their relationship. “I should hope so; I have to keep my High Lady entertained somehow. Wouldn’t want her eternity to get boring.”

“Boring? How could I ever get bored with a mate who thinks so much of himself?” She shot back, though its effect was lost when she leaned further into him, her hands running over the legs that were on either side of her. She could feel the delicious heat of his bare chest so close behind her, the thin nightdress she was wearing a poor barrier between them. 

Rhys’ fingers continued to comb through her hair, expertly separating it into three equal parts. “I take offense to that.”

Feyre let out an aborted snort. “No, you don’t.” 

“No, I don’t,” Rhys agreed, in a blithe voice.

They fell into a comfortable silence then, built on years of learning how to just be together. Neither of them felt the need to always fill the air between them with pointless chatter. Oh, they liked to joke and bicker… but they also knew when to let words fade away and just enjoy each other’s company.

It had been happening more of late, likely because Rhys had refused to leave Feyre’s side for the past few months. He was a constant presence at her side, though he did his best not to hover too much (he knew all too well how she loathed feeling locked in, how it still made her bones lock up in fear, even after all this time). He needn’t have worried; Feyre never, never felt tied down by her mate, never felt confined by him. She knew that even now, when he was so concerned about her, he would give her space if she asked.

(He’d once told her, in a fit of hopeless romanticism, that he would give her the very stars above Velaris if he could. Feyre had believed him, of course, if only because she said she would do the same for him.)

So Feyre was quiet, letting Rhys gently braid her hair as if he’d done it hundreds of times before. She’d been utterly surprised when he’d offered to do it for her earlier, after he’d heard her curse in front of the mirror while she struggled with trying to tame her wild locks into something more manageable. Feyre was so tired these days and sore too, the heavier she got. And she was constantly hot then cold, her hair always in the way and, Cauldron, she didn’t care for it much now and all the work it took to keep it neat, not when she was already so uncomfortable. She’d been beyond tempted to just chop it all off, had Rhys not stepped in when he did with his innocuous offer.

At first she tried to deny the existence of a problem but she really couldn’t hide anything from Rhys; he knew her too well, felt her struggles through their mating bond and tried to ease her discomfort as much as he could. (Rightly so, Feyre sometimes thought when she particularly annoyed with how limited she was lately, considering he’s the one that put me into this situation in the first place.) 

So here they were, Rhys’s gentle hands working wonders on Feyre’s nerves, his fingers softly tugging at her hair as he built the braid into something spectacular; Feyre herself was usually no slouch when it came her hair (at least when she wasn’t so cranky), but she had the feeling that Rhys was even better. So many hidden talents, this mate of mine.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” she finally asked, curiosity getting the better of her. She’d felt his hesitancy when he first offered, that pang of grief that he’d been unable to conceal from her.

“My sister,” Rhys said after a long pause. His voice had lost that light-hearted edge from earlier, filled instead with wistful regret. “She’d come to me when our mother was too busy for it. She could have asked the servants, of course… but she liked to spend a few moments with me, I think. She continued to ask even long after she could do it by herself. I never had the heart to say no.” 

Feyre’s own heart ached for her mate, for the family he’d lost so long ago. He rarely spoke of the little sister she’d never meet, even less so than his mother. From what she’d gleaned over the years, his sister had been quite a bit younger than him, had looked up to him in a way no one else ever had. Feyre couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for him to have to bury her broken body.

She rubbed her thumbs comfortingly over the sides of his knees. I’m sorry, she sent softly to him through their bond. I’m sorry

Rhys’ mind caressed hers. Me too.

Feyre kept running her hands soothingly over him, tempted to turn around and pull him to her, wrap her arms around those broad shoulders of his. She didn’t though; the act of braiding seemed to calm him… like coming home to something he’d thought he’d long forgotten. (Still, she wished she could protect him from all the pain he endured… but that same pain had made him into the wonderful male he was today.) 

When he was finally done, she saw his finished work briefly through his eyes, the image flashing through her mind.

“It’s beautiful,” Feyre said with a smile, reaching up to run her fingers over the intricate pattern he’d managed to weave her hair into. “Thank you.”

Rhys’ strong arms around wrapped around her body, finally pulling her back to rest against his chest. “I figured it was about time I got some practice,” he whispered in her ear as he moved one hand to cover her rounded belly. “I wouldn’t want our poor daughter to be left with an inept father.”

Feyre tangled her fingers with Rhys’, holding them over her stomach, where their unborn baby was slowly growing. “You could never be an inept father, Rhys,” she told him softly. Rhys only pressed kiss under her jaw in response, though she could feel his quiet gratitude for her faith in him. “Besides, how do you know it’ll be a girl?” Feyre continued, turning her head so she could arch an eyebrow at him.

Mischief lit his violet eyes. “Perhaps I asked Elain.”

Feyre leveled a look at him. “Elain would never tell you, even if she knew.” Her sister had become quite the responsible seer over the years, never revealing more than was necessary. (Well, that and Feyre had wanted it to be a surprise, telling Elain in no uncertain terms not to let Rhys charm the answer out of her.)

“Then let’s call it a father’s intuition,” Rhys replied now, unable to stop his grin.

Feyre laughed, leaning her head against the edge of his jaw. “She’s going to have you wrapped around her little finger, isn’t she?” 

“Of course,” he kissed her forehead, his happiness a near tangible thing. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Feyre could only cuddle in closer. She looked at where their joined hands were resting on her belly. Don’t worry, baby, she thought, we love you already, no what you turn out to be.

(A few years later, when their daughter runs up to Feyre, her hair braided in a crown around her head, little flowers carefully tucked in the midnight blue strands, she doesn’t need to ask who did it. Rhys’ proud smile is answer enough.)

SO I WROTE THE ANGST (which u can find here if u want) AND. DIED A LITTLE BIT INSIDE. But,,, it’s his birthday,,, I can’t just write angst,,, so… *throws fluff in your face*


“Morning, beautiful,”


Tony squinted, rolling a little further into the warm embrace that he knew was Steve’s arms and groaning softly. “No. Too early. Call back in an hour.”

Steve laughed, lips brushing softly over Tony’s hair. “It’s 11. I’ve been lying in for 3 hours, now.”

Tony smiled, kissing Steve’s chest as he did so. “Have you just been lying there watching me this whole time? Pervert,”

“Guilty,” was all Steve said, before rolling himself on top of Tony, elbows resting against the bed to stop his weight from crushing into Tony’s arc reactor. He leaned down a little, kissing Tony’s nose. “Happy birthday, darling,”

Tony paused, brow furrowing for a moment before it dawned on him. “You remembered my birthday?”

Steve shot him a look, part frown, part fond exasperation as he kissed Tony again. “We go through this every year, babe. Yes, I remembered your birthday. I’m slightly offended that you thought I wouldn’t, to be honest.”

Tony shrugged, pouting a little as he arched up into Steve’s touch, hands wrapping around his neck and mouth finding Steve’s. “Does this mean,” he whispered in between kisses, “crazy morning s-”

“Nope,” Steve interrupted, pushing Tony’s hips back on to the bed before rolling off him, grinning cheekily, because he was a motherfucking tease, “There’s food cooking- and the team said they’re waiting for us downstairs.”

Tony groaned, sprawling out on the sheets ad smushing his face further into the pillows. “But it’s my birthday-”

“And the team are going to come barging up here with pitchforks unless we hurry up,” Steve interrupted, throwing on a shirt and smiling as he crossed the room and jumped back on the bed, crawling over to Tony and covering his face with kisses, despite the man’s giggling protests.

“Steve, stop it, I thought we needed to h-h-hurry!” Tony wheezed, as Steve dug into his ribs and tickled, mouth moving across Tony’s face and strategically, covering every area he could find.

Steve paused, nipping Tony’s ear lightly before sitting up and sitting on his knees, still beaming. “Correct. Let’s go, Stark, get a move on, we don’t have all day- you’ve already spent half of it asleep.”

Tony groaned again, but allowed Steve to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him up. He took the opportunity to slide his arms around Steve’s shoulders again, mouth on the other man’s neck. “Are you very sure we can’t just-”

“I’m not going to let you tempt me, Tony,” Steve said, biting his lip and unwrapping Tony from his neck. It looked like he was having a tough time believing his own words, but he kept firm, yanking them both up into standing and then maneuvering Tony until he was facing the direction of his wardrobe. “We will definitely be coming back to that later, though.”

“I’m counting on it,” Tony said, pulling out some comfy clothes from the bottom of his wardrobe and throwing them on. “By the way you’re talking, I’m guessing you’ve got plans for me.”

Steve nodded, watching Tony dress. “Yep.”

“Care to give me a hint?”

“Nope.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve excessive amounts of peril, I’m good. Medium amounts of peril are fine, though. Also no nudity on Clint’s part.”

Steve paused, but altogether he didn’t seem that shocked by Tony’s wishes, which said something about their lives, really. “I told Clint explicitly that no clothes were to be removed, don’t worry. As for the peril, I’m pretty sure there will be none. Although, you know, I can’t exactly promise that.”

Tony just shrugged, walking over to where Steve was sat on the bed and slotting himself between his knees. “Eh, that was pushing it anyway.”

Steve laughed, taking Tony’s hands and kissing the palms, before wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist and pulling him in, pressing his face to Tony’s stomach. “Happy birthday,” he said again.

Tony stroked his fingers through Steve’s hair, shutting his eyes and letting the sound of Steve’s breathing take over. 


Well. For about three seconds, anyway. After that, their moment of peace was rudely interrupted by four other people as they kicked the door open and piled in.


Tony sighed as he was rounded on and pulled away from Steve, who was just sitting there with a fond smile and a twinkle in his eye. The team had a very thorough hold on him, so there wasn’t much point in trying to fight them off. He just let them haul him up and carry him down the stairs, while Steve laughed and trailed along behind him.

“Which one of you creeps is feeling my ass?” He yelled.

“Apologies, Tony, there is no other space to hold,” Thor said, giving him a look that meant there were plenty of other spaces to hold, he was just a little shit.


Once they’d kidnapped him, it didn’t take long for all of them to end up in the communal kitchen, dropping Tony gently on the table and then pressing a mug of coffee immediately into his hands.

“Thanks Brucie,” he said, because it was only Bruce who knew how to make coffee just right- everyone else had yet to learn the art.

“Right! When do we get to do presents?” Clint asked the room, clapping his hands and then slow-motion punching Tony in the face, because he was a five-year-old.

“No time like the present,” Natasha shrugged, and then paused, eyes widening a little. “That… that was not a pun. If any of you mention that ever again I’ll break your fingers.”

Tony laughed, and Natasha saw, but she just rolled her eyes and smiled a little, squeezing his arm. “We had a long think about what to get you this year- it was kinda difficult, as always, to buy anything for you, considering the fact you are a billionaire and can therefore buy anything you so desire.”

“So we were like- what do you do for a guy who has everything?” Clint cut in theatrically, before whipping an envelope out of his pocket and grinning. “Why, you do him favors, of course.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, as he took the envelope from Clint’s hands. “This better not implode upon opening-”

“I can vouch for Clint, don’t worry,” Steve said, leaning on the counter opposite Tony and smiling. “No explosions.”

Tony nodded, and ripped open the envelope. Inside, there were three strips of paper, with hand-written sentences in the middle of them. He furrowed his brow curiously as he removed them, reading them quickly.

5 free passes to the TV, even when I’m watching it, because it seems 80% of all our fights stem from arguments over who wants what.

1 team-up against Natasha. Only one. She’s scary and will kill us both if we do it any more than that.

5 ‘leave me the fuck alone’ opportunities. You invoke this slip and say those words, and I’m gone, no questions asked.

Tony looked up, confused. “What the hell does this mean?”

“It means,” Clint rolled his eyes and hopped on the table next to Tony, “that these are favors you can ask- no arguments allowed- of me, contractually signed and agreed upon. Only for the amount of times it says on the slip, though, I’m not that easy.”

Tony stared at them for another few seconds, before a smile broke out on his face, and he looked at Clint, eyes sparkling. “Thank you. I’m going to savor the fuck out of these for years, you know. Save them for special occasions. Or maybe I’ll do them all at once, and make you my slave for the day.”

Clint frowned, but Tony pulled him into a hug and then let go, turning to Natasha as she held out an envelope of her own. “Wait- you’ve all done this?”

“Yes. Decided to switch things up for a change, you know?” She explained, shoving her present into his hands and then turning away to grab some food. Tony knew she didn’t like her kindness being acknowledged, but when Tony read her slips, he jumped off the table and pulled her into a tight hug anyway, which she luckily returned.


One by one, he received all the favors off each teammate- from ‘will let you ride on the Great Stallion of Asgard through the meadows of Gold’ from Thor to ‘I’ll get you coffee whenever you ask for a whole month’ from Bruce.


It was perfect and thoughtful and by the time he got around to Steve’s envelope, he was already feeling pretty emotional.


Smiling, he opened the letter and pulled out its contents. There were three slips, the same as everyone else, and Steve had bordered them with little cartoon drawings of the whole team. It looked adorable,,and Tony grinned up at Steve, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down for a kiss before he continued.

The whole team were positively beaming, and everyone seemed to have forgotten how to stand still- even Steve was fiddling with his hands as Tony read through the first note.

I’ll grow a beard on three different occasions for a month- I know how much you want to see it on me.

Tony laughed, imagining clean-cut, lovely Steve with a scruffy lumberjack beard. “Yeah, I’m using the first one right now. No shaving for a month, baby.”

Steve laughed nervously as Tony continued.

You can order to me get to bed if I’m in a shitty mood and still working at the gym. 10 times, non-negotiable on my side.

Tony smiled softly, nodding his head. “That sure will come in useful. Thank you, Steve.”

At this point, the entire room was pretty much vibrating on the spot, and Tony was a little nervous as to what the last one was going to be. He looked at Steve curiously, eyebrow raised, and Steve just nodded at the last slip, biting his lip.

Curious and a little excited, Tony read through the last line.



This one isn’t so much doing a favor for you as it is me, but- you’d make the happiest man in the galaxy if you would let me have the honor of spending the rest of my life with you, as your husband. If you’ll have me. Unlimited offer.



Tony stared at the words for a long time. When he looked up, Steve was on one knee, and there was a ring held between his fingers.


He raised an eyebrow, scarlet in the face. His hand was shaking a little, but there was the same determined look in his eyes that he kept for battles.

Like Tony agreeing was ever going to be a battle.


“Oh my god. Yes. Holy shit, yes, Steve.”


The room erupted in yells and cheers, and Steve’s eyes widened in shock as Tony jumped off the table and slid down until he was able to throw himself at Steve, burying his face in the other mans shoulder and gripping the fabric of his shirt so tight his knuckles were white. “Yes, yes, yes, holy shit, I love you Steve, yes-”

Steve kissed him, cutting off the ramble, but they had to stop when both of them began laughing uncontrollably. Steve looked down at Tony, wiping the tear tracks off his cheeks with his thumbs before leaning down and kissing him again. “You make me happier than I ever thought I could be. And I’m going to be the best husband you could ever hope for, Tony Stark. I promise.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment it seemed Thor lost patience and tackled them both to the floor, hugging them tight enough to bruise. Not that Tony gave a damn, mind.


He was marrying Steve. 


“Group hug!” The God yelled, and Steve was laughing, tears still in his eyes as he rolled Tony into his arms and leaned over him, making sure he wasn’t crushed as four other superheroes launched themselves on top of them, whooping and yelling and (In Clint’s case, anyway) removing their shirts to swing them like lassos.

Tony felt like he was dreaming. Like he was floating on a level of euphoria that anyone else had yet to reach.


He was marrying Steve.


“Clint, what did we say about keeping our clothes on?” Someone groaned, and Tony could feel the vibrations of Steve laughing on top of him, his face crinkled and smiling from ear to ear.


He was marrying Steve.


“Happy fucking birthday,” He said to himself, stealing a kiss before the whole pile rolled and fell down the set of stairs that lead to the living room.

The Library

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Uh the dark, being locked in a building, idk

Word Count: 1950ish

A/N: As I said before, I don’t write smut so sorry about that and sorry for the long wait but I just got out of school so I was taking a little break. I did deviate from the request a little bit but I hope I did your request justice!

Originally posted by starkquinzel

The library was utterly silent, nothing but the clicks of the computers and the crinkles of the pages turning in a book. It was the perfect place for you and Peter, your boyfriend, to study for the finals that were next week. An additional bonus was the corner that virtually no one knew about unless they really looked for it. It was tucked behind two bookcases that cut across a corner diagonally, leaving only a small gap to the right of them wide enough for a person to squeeze through. Rarely ever was there someone near that corner looking for books. And if they were looking, the only they would find are the textbooks that dated back to the 1990’s.

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