your lips are out of this world

married part 4- h.s imagine

part 1

part 2 

part 3 

Harry sighed as he walked into his apartment. The last place he wanted to be at right now was his home. In reality, he wish he never walked out of your apartment. You were right. Your world didn’t revolve around him. He should’ve realized that he wasn’t the center of your universe. He should’ve let you tell him all about your date. “I’ll just talk to her in the morning,” he thought while he started to walk to his and Kimberly’s room.

“Where’d you go?” a voice called out. Harry halted mid-step. He turned around to see Kimberly sitting in the living room, her arms crossed over her chest. Harry bit his bottom lip, beginning to walk towards her. “I went to Y/N’s. Listen baby, I’m sorry I said-”

“You were with Y/N?” Kimberly asked, her voice laced with bitterness. Harry’s eyebrows quickly furrowed together as he sat down on the spot next to her. Kimberly was quick to move away, beginning to pace around. “I always go to her when I need to talk to someone.” Harry added, suddenly feeling the need to explain himself.

Kimberly quickly turned around to face Harry. “I’m your wife, Harry! Don’t you think you should be talking to me whenever you have a problem?” Harry’s cheeks immediately heated up,looking down at his fidgeting fingers, “We got into a fight. I just wanted Y/N’s opinion.”

Kimberly let out what was mixed between a scoff and a laugh. “As if we can trust her opinion.” Harry quickly stood up, feeling like he needed to stick up for his best friend. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Kimberly eyes widened, her head shaking, “How could you be so oblivious, Harry! The girl is in love with you!”

Harry quickly shook his head, “She’s my best friend, Kimberly! How could you accuse her of something like that!”

Kimberly crossed her arms once more before she sat back down on the couch. “I’m supposed to be your best friend.” She shook her head as she stared at the ground. “I notice the way she looks at you. She looks at you like it’s just you two in the room. She listens to every word you say. She puts your needs before hers! Everyone sees it! Everyone but you!” Harry remained silent as he sat down next to Kimberly, his palms beginning to sweat.

“Didn’t you notice how sad she was at the wedding?” Kimberly whispered as she placed her hand on top of Harry’s. Harry closed his eyes. “No…no. I’m her best friend. She was just happy for me. They were happy tears.”

Kimberly sat further into the couch. “Harry, they were tears because the guy she was in love with was marrying someone else.”


You were sitting in your kitchen. A cup of tea in front of you that was now cold. You sighed as you heard a knock on your door. You wiped a tear that fell from frustration from your fight with Harry. When you opened the door, there stood Harry at your doorstep for the second time tonight. Harry was giving you a look that sent shivers down your spine. He let himself into your apartment. You closed the door behind him, “Listen Harry, I’m sorry for-”

Harry spun around to face you, his breathing becoming harder and harsher. “Are you in love with me?”

Your eyes widened. Your secret that you kept for years was finally out. Your eyes quickly scanned Harry’s, trying to get some sense of how he was feeling. When you didn’t answer Harry, he immediately knew what your answer was. He ran his hand over his face as he took a deep breath. “How long?”

You suddenly felt so small. Your arms crossed, as if they were trying to protect yourself. You never wanted Harry to find out. You thought if he ever did find out, the two of you would be old and gray’ you would have a husband and the thought of once being in love with Harry would seem funny. Now, you felt nothing but shame for ever growing feelings for your best friend.

You took a deep breath, your eyes threatening to spill out tears. “Since we were 18,” you whispered. Now it was time for Harry to gasp. “18!” He repeated, his hand slamming down on the counter. You visibly winced, you closed your eyes as your arms tightened around your body.

“5 years! You’ve been in love with me for 5 years!” Harry shouted. He began to pace around your living room, pulling on his hair out of frustration. Harry looked back at you, his eyes softening at your trembling body as you cried. “Why didn’t you tell me,” Harry whispered so softly that you almost didn’t hear. You looked up at the ceiling, tears falling from your face, “I didn’t want to ruin what we had Harry! Our friendship…it was so beautiful! So…real! I was afraid that if I told you or if you somehow you found out, it would ruin everything.”

Harry looked down, his own eyes beginning to fill with tears. He looked up at you and took a deep breath, “You should’ve told me, Y/N. If you told me…things would’ve been different.” You let out a quiet scoff as you stared at the ground. Harry came closer to you. He placed his hand on your cheek, causing you to look up at him. Harry leant his forehead against yours, “I’ve been in love with you all my life.”

You let out a small gasp before Harry continued, “I’ve been in love with you…for so long, Y/N. But I knew someone like you would never be in love with someone like me.” Harry opened his eyes as he grabbed your hands. “You’re so..beautiful. You’re so compassionate and kind to the world. How could I not fall in love with you?” Harry chuckled through his tears. You looked into Harry’s eyes that were filled with nothing but sadness.

“If I knew that you loved me…I would be married to you right now.” Harry whispered. You let out a sob as you rested your head against Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped his arms around you as he looked up, trying to stop crying. “But I’m with Kimberly. And I fell in love with her too.”

You nodded your head as you buried your face more into Harry’s chest. For what felt like an eternity, the two of you held on to each other as if this was the last time you guys would be seeing each other.


Niall let himself into your apartment. He placed his bag down as he quietly made his way into your bedroom. He sighed as he saw the plate of food he left out for you remained untouched. As he came closer to your bed, he noticed the tear stains on your face as you were asleep. He sighed, feeling the same sympathy he did for you when Harry got married. Niall grabbed a blanket you kept on your bed and placed it over you before he left your room.

When Harry left your apartment that night, you immediately called Niall and struggled to tell him what happened between your sobs. Niall tried assuring you that everything would be okay. He tried telling you that this was just a bump; that somehow you and Harry would get past this. But it’s been two weeks and Harry hasn’t tried contacting you since.

Niall was sitting on the couch in you living room when you finally came out of your room. You sat down on the spot next to him, bringing your knees up to your chest. Niall placed his phone down. “I brought some food.” He said as he nodded towards the bag on the counter. You were staring at the wall in front of you. You let out a quiet “thanks.”

Niall bit his bottom lip, trying to think of what to say. He glanced at his phone and smiled. “Your birthday’s tomorrow. That’s exciting isn’t it?”

You shrugged your shoulders. Niall sighed, “Would you like to do anything? I can clear my schedule. Maybe we can go to-”

“I don’t really want to do anything. Thank you though, Niall.” You said quietly. Niall nodded his head as he scooted further into the couch.

Eventually Niall left. He placed a kiss on your head and a promise that he’ll be back tomorrow. Your eyes shifted to the clock on the wall. 11:34PM

With the time ticking closer and closer to 12, you could feel your anxiety bouncing off the walls. Harry has never missed the tradition of coming to your place for your birthday with a home made cake. Surely he wouldn’t miss it because of what happened.

Right?

You looked at the clock again. 12PM. It was officially your birthday. You stared at the door, hoping that Harry would burst in. Your eyes began to water when you realized it wasn’t going to happen. Tears began to fall off your face as your tradition was broken. You placed your head into your hands. Of course he wasn’t coming. Just because he knew you loved him, he wasn’t going to leave his wife for you. You were his past, Kimberly was his present. Stupid girl you thought.


Harry glanced at the time on his phone. He sighed as he looked at the cake he made earlier in front of him. He grabbed the cake and threw it into the trash can before he went back to bed.


i have never been so excited to write this! thank you guys so much for the constant love for married! it means the absolute world that you guys like it! i love hearing from you guys! let me know what you thought!

you can find the rest of my writing here

Final (Final!) Wintershock Sneaky Peeky

I know I said the last excerpt of Pulling Me Under was the final one, but I lied. Or, rather, I changed my mind.  I hope to post the first chapter on Thursday.  The entire thing will be a little longer than originally estimated–about 67,000 words, probably.  I hope everyone enjoys when I release this little fic baby to the world in a couple days…

“Jesus, Barnes. Do you have to kickstart my libido every time you do anything? Stop licking your lips like that.“

He smiled and rolled his tongue out over his bottom lip. “Like that?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re a menace.”

“Ever occur to you that this is happening because of you instead of me?”

Darcy licked that fucking spoon like it was the head of his cock. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“We’re doing this because I can’t stay away from you, not because you can’t stay away from me.”

“So what’s so awesome about me?” she asked, offering him another bite of ice cream. He took it and let it melt in his mouth.

“There’s just something about you.”

“What? That I’m easy and up for semi-public sex?” She took another bite of ice cream, licking the back of the spoon. He couldn’t decide if she did it to instigate him, make him so hard he’d take her again, or if she just didn’t realize her power.

“That you get me so hard sometimes I think I might bust my zipper,” he replied.

“You forgot my dazzling wit,” she said, pointing the spoon at him before taking another bite.

“I didn’t. Ain’t just your body that gets me hot.”

Darcy looked up at him through her long eyelashes and slowly pulled the spoon out of her mouth. “Are you saying that bickering with me gets your motor running?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. It also pisses me the fuck off.”

“Oh, so should I be nicer to you? Maybe stop questioning you when you say stupid shit?” Her voice was light, and she had a smile on her face.

“Nope. Not really interested in changing you. Just sayin’ you’re difficult as hell and that makes me want to rip your clothes off.”

“Interesting,” she said, scooping up some ice cream and offering it to him. Bucky tucked his wet hair behind his ears and let her put the spoon in his mouth. Each bite tasted a little better. Just like her.

The sun signs as I've experienced them

Aries- one more round of shots. Running over a bridge at sunrise. Fighting with people you love, 60′s mod clothes and bloody knuckles, hugs with tears in your eyes and short hair blowing in the breeze. Making you feel like you’re in an exclusive clique. 

Taurus- warm hugs and blankets. A feeling of belonging. Two types- the ones who slay at life and are everyone’s older sibling and the ones who are complete diamonds in the rough. Chocolate and kisses on your cheek that leave perfect lipstick marks. Little boxes full of memories. Subtle perfume that makes you calmer. 

Pisces- stargazing, lullabies and heartbreak. Poems that you think of at 3am. Acoustic guitars. John green novels. Origami and shy giggles. The most open conversations that make you see new beauty in the world. Sighing when you’re lost for words. 

Leo- crushing like you’re in middle school. Laughing until your ribs ache and your nose runs. Camaraderie, perfectly rolled cigarettes and lungs full of pride. Sitting on someone’s lap and feeling comfy there. Bringing a subtle gold glow of happiness to the room. Secret handshakes and in-jokes. 

Capricorn- the type of rare people I don’t get to be friends with but wish I was. Knee high socks and the freshly mown grass of a school running track. bubblemint chewing gum and soft k-pop ballads on a sunny morning. Box braided hair and constellation freckles. 

Libra- having your hair played with. Bags full of things people always need. Singing along to the car radio loudly and with all the wrong lyrics. Never knowing what to say but always being there when things are rough. Soft jumpers and smiling with one corner of your mouth. 

Virgo- always running a hand through your hair when you see a mirror. Having a system for all your things that nobody gets. New book smell and bear hugs. Tears that come from nowhere. The feeling of getting the best view at the concert. 

Cancer- pinkie promises and taking polaroids. Biting nails and fretting the small things. Friends that feel like family. The feeling of sand between your toes and staying up all night talking. Blanket forts and feeling frustrated. Celebrating the best in people. 

Sagittarius- the thump in your chest when you see someone beautiful. Tears that sting your eyes and turn them red. Friends to the end, even when you change and grow. Second chances, driving with the windows down at night with your anthems playing. Muttering under your breath in your first language.

Gemini- fixing your computer in exchange for home cooking. Whispers during drinking games and being told what you don’t always want to hear. Spooning with friends. Shiny glasses, worn dance shoes and carpooling with your best friends. Feeling inadequate. Jumping on beds and sharing secrets. 

Scorpio- the feeling of arriving right as the train does. Marble floors and soothing incense. Wishing your friends lived closer. Getting ready for a party and dancing around the room. Being wild beyond measure but always staying safe. Taking naps with people you love. 

Aquarius- people watching over coffee. Interlocking fingers and pastel coloured post it notes. Comfy bean bags in libraries with fascinating rare books. Softly tracing skin. Stern looks and lip biting. Not getting the joke the first time round. Drowning out the world with headphones.

1. The last time you made the mistake of making a home out of a pair of arms and a soft smile, you learned the hard way that anything that moves, that can blame, that can cause ache does not deserve such an elevated status in your heart. Still, you are an anomaly, a wild thing hoping for a home. A sailor wishing to leave the ocean and return.

2. I still remember a day when your father had lifted you in his arms and told you that you are loved, more than you ever know. It was two days before the plane crash that took him. It was two days before I saw death dance in your broken eyes for the first time. I don’t think it ever stopped dancing there.

3. Yesterday, someone asked you, “who do you trust most in the world?” And you felt that your lips were sewn shut. Everybody you should love and trusts’ names felt rough and raw on your tongue like they were in a foreign language that you had become too ancient to learn. So instead you whispered your own name like a secret into the abyss and hoped no one saw the sadness that had crawled it’s way along with your name out of your mouth.

4. A summer ago, you asked me what it was like to not need a place to call home. I know you asked this from a place of trauma, that your trauma has convinced you it will all be okay once you find a home. But it is lying, because what you need up find is your healing. And I told you that wanderlust had etched itself so ornately into my bones that I had no choice but to travel till it had sated itself. You looked at me with envy, even as I thought of all the people who would love to make a home of your heartbeat. You however were looking for a certain kind of love that you would call your very own. A kind of love that would never abandon you the way everyone you have ever loved has.

5. Something about you glowed bigger and better than all the stars we gazed at in the night sky. And even then, even when you had everything, you longed for a human to belong in. But everytime you laid the foundations for something good, they came crashing and tumbling down on your head. Because your trauma is a perfectionist and no one could quite become what you needed and wanted at the same time.

6. I wish I had told you then what I told you in that very last letter before I left. That child, why did no one ever teach you that you cannot turn people into homes? People are rivers, ever changing, ever flowing. They will disappear with everything you put inside them. Still, that home you are hunting for does have a heartbeat. But it isn’t one locked in anyone else’s chest. Just look inside your own.

—  Nikita Gill, People Aren’t Homes
Queen of Air and Darkness snippet

“I can’t do this.” Helen tried to keep her voice steady, but it was nearly impossible. She hoped the strain would be covered by the sound of the waves crashing below them, but Aline knew her too well. She could sense when Helen was upset, even when she was trying hard not to show it.

“Baby.” Aline moved closer, wrapping her arms around Helen, brushing her lips softly with her own. “You can. You can do anything.”

Helen relaxed into her wife’s arms. When she’d first met Aline she’d thought the other girl was taller than she was, but she’d realized later it was the way Aline held herself, arrow-straight. The Consul, her mother, held herself the same way, and with the same pride — not that either of them was arrogant, but the word seemed a shade closer to what Helen imagined than simple confidence. She remembered the first love note Aline had ever written her. The curves of your lips rewrite history. The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. Later, she’d found out it was an Oscar Wilde quote, and had said to Aline, smiling, You’ve got a lot of nerve.

Aline had looked back at her steadily. “I know. I do.”

They both had, always, and it had stood them in good stead. But this —

“This is different,” Helen said. “They don’t want me here –“

“They do want you here.”

“They barely know me,” Helen said. “That’s worse.”

Draco Malfoy Crush Headcanons

Masterlist


Gryffindor Reader


- Omg people would totally ship you two as the love/hate relationship and/or the sexual tension relationship

- Cliche, but start off as total rivals

- If you played Quiddich you would make it your top priority to always distract Draco

- Shameless teasing tho??

- “Hey Malfoy, nice ass”

- ///blushblushblush “Excuse me?!”

- “You heard me!”

- Shameless catcalling purposely in front of everyone including Snape and his friends

- But one day you are genuinely upset and on the verge of tears but you, being stubborn, refuse to cry in front of him

- “Didn’t you hear me?! Go away, Malfoy!”

- Offers you a handkerchief, an awkward hug, and sweets

- A messy, tear stained and shaky smile

- “Since when did you go soft, Malfoy?”

- “I should be asking you the same thing, (Last Name)

- So obviously you two are pretty close friends now

- He can basically trust you with anything so he comes to you when he has problems

- But both of you are extremely stubborn so usually the other person will have to confront the other about their notice in their change of attitude

- You having to confess first

- He’d totally try to confess but end up getting too nervous and backing away

- “Hey Malfoy, you be interested in going to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

-//smirksmirk “You wouldn’t be asking me out, would you?”

-”Pffftttt as if????”

- You totally were asking him out

- He said yes in the most teasing way with a signature smirk

- You were very proud of your relationship because there was no denying Draco was just hot

- But like he was a complete sweetie

- If you were sick he would always freak out and if he saw you were struggling in classes he would discreetly leave you his study notes in the most unexpected ways like “accidentally” mixing his 100% amazing notes up with your slightly pitiful ones

- And ugh he was just an amazing partner to have???


Slytherin Reader


- Not gonna lie you two were already friends

- Like you would gang up on people you shared a hatred for always

- Sometimes people would even avoid you two in fear of being completely roasted™

- It was like “o shit here they come rUN BITCH RUN N Y O O M

 - But no seriously you two would diss whoever and whatever if they got on your nerves 

- And obviously he would ask you to the Yule Ball

-“You’re asking me, Malfoy…?”

-“Of course. Who else would I ask? Parkinson?”

- And like whenever the two of you would enter the ballroom all eyes would immediately just turn to you two

- Because lets face it, the two of you could stop traffic 

- You would both sneak off after some stuff had died down in a dark and empty corridor 

- The two of you would just be chatting by a windowsill whenever out of nowhere he would just kiss you

- You were like talking about class or something and he would just press his lips against yours

- And you just melted

- Because you could feel how shaky and nervous he was

- But he was so gentle

- And omg you cuties

- Tbh no one is surprised when you enter the Great Hall hand in hand

- Blaise catcalls

- Pansy snarls

- Crabbe and Goyle don’t really care 

- But you and Draco are too absorbed in the little world that has formed around you to notice

Ravenclaw Reader

 

- The only reason he knew you is because you were the person who always just happened to score one or two points above him on every. single. assignment.

- Like he would be bragging in class about his grades when the teacher would speak up like 

-“Obviously I have the best test scores in here but that’s not surprise—“

-“aCTUALLY Mister Malfoy, Miss (Name) (Last Name) scored just one point above you…! So you’re wrong lol”

- And he would just be appalled

- And then he would basically track you down and discreetly ask about studying techniques

- And you’d just be like “So Mister “I scored one less point than someone” wants to hear about my studying techniques? I don’t think so, Second Place.”

- He’d do an unintentional dramatic gasp and like press an offended hand to his chest

- And you’d just walk away with the most smug smirk ever

- After that incident he’d badmouth you almost as much as he badmouthed Potter

- Almost

- Because after doing some “researching” (snooping) and learning more about you from observations and sources he’d find out that you’re actually really intriguing 

- And he might have had the smallest, tiniest crush on you

 - But he’d deny it of course

-the little bastard

- But like he actually finds the small things you do entertaining

- For example, he might have ‘accidentally’ showed up at the library every day you did and just happen to notice how you would play with your hair or doodle whenever you studied 

- One day, he discreetly bumped into you playing it off as he was too busy reading

- You decided not to tell him that his book was upside down

-“Oh, watch where you’re going… Anyways, if you’re here, mind helping me with this subject?”

-“Draco Malfoy? Asking for help? Who would have known?”

- But you did end up helping him 

- And after taking multiple deep breaths, he finally got the courage to ask you out

- And you told him “maybe if you can score higher than me on the next potions test”

-gUESS WHO STUDIED THEIR ASS OFF

-MALFOY DID


 Hufflepuff Reader

 - Tbh he had no idea who you were

 - And honestly he didn’t even care

- But that all changed when this happened

- So you were focusing on anything other than him while walking down the hallway,

- And accidentally you bump into him

- All of your stuff falls to the ground

- And he just shoots you a nasty glare and continues walking

- You are simply picking up your things when you hear “Lousy Hufflepuffs. Can’t do anything. No wonder that Diggory died. As if a Hufflepuff is brave enough to enter that tournament and come out alive.”

- You stop dead in your tracks. “What did you just say..?”

- He turns back to you with a scoff 

- You run up in front of him and get in his face. “What the hell did you just say?! Tell me!” 

-”I said that all of you Hufflepuffs are weak and pathetic. Diggory never had what it took to enter the-”

- But he was cut off by a punch to the face. His nose was bleeding

-”Don’t you ever start saying shit like that when you, yourself, will never be better than Cedric! At his worst, he is still better than you at your best. Maybe you should think about this before speaking unless you want to be bloodied by a “lousy” Hufflepuff again.”

- He is left in sh o ck

- From then on, whenever he sees you his entire face goes red and he hides himself

- Because maybe your courage and great left hook made him form a crush

-somehow

- He leaves a note on your desk which is from “your secret admirer” (cause he’s cheesy like that) telling you to meet him outside at night

- Your first reaction when you see him is not a positive one

- He explains that he only said that about Diggory is because he tries to look impressive in front of his friends (Which isn’t a lie) and that he sincerely apologizes and mourns for your House’s loss

- After some coaxing, he is forgiven 

- You sit and chat for a while and you are pleasantly surprised when you find out he’s actually pretty cool

-At the end of the night, he asks you on a date

- And with a hesitant yet bright smile, you accept

“Why do you love me?”

“Because I have no choice.” He said with a sigh

Her wry smile turned to a frown as she frantically attempted to let go of his hand.

He calmly pat her in the head before continuing…

“Like how the rain helplessly falls to kiss the earth. How the waves can’t resist coming back to hug the shore. I have no choice, it is my very nature to love you.

My mind filled with holes so it drowns oh so easily in the depths of your eyes. My heart molded like a flute so it always sings your name. My soul hollowed out so it would always seek you as if you’re the only thing in this world that can fill it. I have no choice when every inch of my being is drawn to your perfections.”

He glanced at her birth mark and smiled, “and to your imperfections.”

“Because love” he held her chin and slowly leaned forward “the first time my lips pressed on yours I decided there will never be a better choice”.

—  kfroy 
Dating Tom Holland Would Include...

Originally posted by tomhollandisdaddy

ok I couldn’t help myself, sorry I haven’t written in years- but ya enjoy!!

  • alright, like tom would be the sweetest boyfriend don’t even try to fight me lol
  • like he would be such a gentleman 
  • always holding doors for you and pulling out chairs for you and ordering on your behalf and such
  • but he’d also be really cheeky 
  • like he’s not one to shy away from a good prank I feel
  • like he’d hide behind the door and give you a good jump scare or fill your car up with balloons or something- innocent things
  • but like if it ever got too far or if you even got the slightest bit hurt from it, he’d immediately rush over to you and make sure you’re alright
  • the little gymnist would constantly be doing flips and all these cool parkour moves which would make you so worried and on edge
  • “babe, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself”
  • “oh come on, darling, I’m spider-man”
  • and that would be his excuse for everything “darling, I am spider man after all”
  • and yes, his favorite thing to call you would be “darling”
  • and you’d also be worried about him doing some of his own stunts
  • like you’d walk over and he’d be hanging from some cables and casually be like, “oh, hey babe! want to grab some dinner after this?” 
  • taking Tessa on regular walks through the park would probably be one of the highlights of your day because it’d usually just be you and tom
  • and you’d find a quiet spot and just throw some tennis balls out for Tess and relax for a bit, it’d be a great get away from all the flashing cameras and noise
  • hanging out with Tess most of the time in his trailer
  • I feel like your relationship would be kind of private
  • I mean, people would know you’re dating, but you guys wouldn’t flaunt it
  • there may be a couple of pictures of you through out his Instagram feed, but it wouldn’t be overboard
  • and when you do post a picture together, the fans will all go crazy
  • however, on twitter, I feel like you two would get into little witty battles, here and there, and people would take sides and everything
  • but it wouldn’t be anything major, it’d be stupid stuff- like the correct pronunciation for “croissant” or something lol 
  • he’d be dancing all over the place all the time
  • and if you’re not good at dancing he would teach you a move or two and crack up at the amount of rhythm you lack, but he’d find it really cute and endearing
  • teasing him about lip sync battle
  • and sometimes if it’s raining he’ll do a tiny bit of the routine just to make you laugh
  • lots of insiders
  • beach dates
  • you would hang out with Harrison a lot and go to interviews and watch behind the cameras 
  • and Tom would get distracted every now and then with you being right there, and he’d stare off and you’d point your finger to the interviewer and signal at him to focus back, even though it’s really cute 
  • seeing the world while joining him on press tour every now and then
  • sneaking him off set every once in a while to grab a bite to eat or go adventuring and putting him in an elaborate disguise 
  • waking up to him making a nice cup of tea and breakfast every morning
  • having spider man merch lying all over the house because tom can’t help himself
  • and every time you’re at target and pass the toy isle where all the action figures are and the masks are, he’ll stop and shout “hey, look it’s me!!” 
  • sweet little kisses 
  • planning the future together
  • “what if our kid prefers superman?”
  • “then we’ll send them off to military school” 
  • obviously being his date to red carpet events and ceremonies 
  • and he’d always be very nervous and making sure you’re alright because all the flashing cameras, rude reporters, and screaming fans are a bit much
  • cheering him on in the crowd when he’s up for an award
  • and you being one of the first people he thanks in his speeches
  • if you aren’t from England and he’s near your home town for press tour or comic con, you take him all around town and show him where you grew up and share funny stories about each of your stops
  • him getting on great with your family, who can’t get enough of him
  • going over to see his family on holidays, who absolutely adore you
  • one of his brothers will probably have a not so secret crush on you and you jokingly threaten tom to leave him for them 
  • you being his whole world and him constantly talking about you in interviews
  • also lots of rumors about you guys getting married, having a baby, or breaking up, but you just tune those out 
  • lots of movie nights at his place which lead to you guys crashing out on the couch 
  • stealing his clothes
  • him whispering sweet nothings in your ear
  • and Harrison screaming “get a room”
  • lots of “I love you’s” 

let me know if you want a part 2 lol 

It’s a [Tinder] Date! (Part 1/3)

Summary: Thinking he needs to find a date, Natasha signs Steve up to Tinder. In Queens, Peter Parker does the same to you. It’s a match! 

Word Count: 1,723

A/N: This is already planned out and written (in my head). I loved writing this.

Originally posted by imaginingbucky


Nat raised a brow, a mysterious curve to her smile. Steve was immediately suspicious. He felt his shoulders stiffen and his back straighten. He knew he looked like he had a stick up his ass, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when Natasha looked like the cat that had eaten the canary, and wanted to get caught.

“You left your phone on the coffee table,” she said. Her tone was relaxed, which made Steve more nervous.

His eyes narrowed. “What did you do, Romanoff?” he questioned, broad arms crossing over an equally-broad chest.

She merely shrugged before she turned her right-hand palm-up and relaxing it. Steve’s phone was revealed. “See for yourself.”

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Leather Jackets - Bucky Barnes AU

Request: “Can you make a Bucky imagine in which he’s like the bad boy who is really cool and falls for y/n and is super sweet around her?” // I did it as a Greaser AU because I was listening to the Grease soundtrack while writing lol

Word Count: 1167 // My requests are still open!!


The Greasers didn’t like to be messed with. If you’re not at their level, you can’t speak to them. You go near them, you’re dead.

Pacing quickly down the sidewalk, you avoided the glare of the boys in the red Chevrolet parked across the street. A message alert on your phone made you stop, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

Steve: Just overheard that the Greasers are gonna be at the coffee shop. Be careful.

Mentally groaning in fear of anyone hearing you, you slipped into the door of the cafe, walking with your head down.

“Hi, uh, Miss? What would you like?” The barista grinned at you, as you looked up from your phone. “Sorry, can I just have a juice please?”

“What’s your name?” She asked, holding your cup in one hand and a sharpie in the other. “Y/N.” You pronounced, smiling back.

Soon enough, your name was called and you took your drink, walking out of the store.

You looked around before pushing the door open, seeing the Chevrolet had moved. Breathing a sigh of relief, you pushed the door open and began your walk home.

Going to grab your phone from your back pocket, you bumped into someone.

Feeling a hand on your back, you looked up, making direct eye contact with one of the leaders of the greaser gang, Bucky Barnes.

“I am so sorry, I really wasn’t concentrating. I should look where I’m going, sorr-” You mumbled, rambling away, “Hey, don’t worry about it. Y/N, is it?” He smiled warmly at you, “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

“We have English together, right?” He asked, trying to making eye contact as you looked everywhere but his into his eyes.

“That we do,” you laughed nervously, “See you Monday, I guess.”

“See you Monday, Y/N.” He smiled, brushing past you as you walked back home, texting Steve about your ‘incident’.

Soon enough, Monday rolled around.

School always dragged along on a Monday. Whether it be the non existent enthusiasm from the students, or the bore of lessons from teachers paid less than they’re owed.

Grabbing your bag and heading out of the classroom, you avoided the glare of the same boys from the coffee shop stood outside your classroom.

You felt their eyes leave as you trailed outside to try and find your friends, Steve and Peggy.

Walking past the bleachers, you felt all eyes on you as hands gripped your shoulders.

“If it isn’t Little Miss Y/N.” You span around to be met with the eyes of one of Bucky’s gang, another member of the Greasers.

“H-hi?” You questioned, looking away from where he stared deeply at you, backed by two more Greasers; the rest sat on the bleachers.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. May I ask why this pretty little mouth of yours was talking to Barnes outside the coffee shop last night?” You looked up, horrified that anyone had seen yours and Bucky’s conversation.

“I-I didn’t mean anything by it! I bumped into hi-” He pressed a finger over your lips, his minions trailing behind you, as he whistled for more of them to come over.

You were surrounded. You’d seen this happen before, and you prayed every night that they would never do it to you.

Grabbing your bag roughly off your shoulders, you gasped as they pulled your books out one by one, until they reached your sketchbook.

“Well what do we have here? A sketchbook! Let’s have a looky here shall we?” He smirked, picking up the black book from your feet.

Flipping through your doodles and practices, you prayed they wouldn’t find your illustration of the picture Bucky had posted recently.

But they did. Just your luck.

“And it gets better! How 'bout we show this to Buck when he gets here, hey? Is that what you want, Y/N? Attention? Well, sweetheart, that’s what you’re gonna get.”

Tears began to spill down your cheeks as he cascaded the sketchbook to the ground once again, the pencil drawing looking like a watercolour.

“Now, Y/N. How 'bouts we deal with you.” He spat, getting closer to your face. Grinning, he grabbed your hair and pulled your face up to meet his eyes.

Taking a harsh slap to the face, you looked into his eyes as he laughed, “Fuck. You.” you spat.

“What was that, Y/N? Say that again.” He looked shocked, but hid it. “I said fuck you.” He looked at you again, “You’re gonna regret that Y/N.”

Taking another hit, you saw the blood hit the concrete on the other side of the book.

“Hey!” A loud voice echoed from outside their circle, as the rest of the group scattered, you sank to the floor.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” Bucky asked the boy stood opposite you, as you let more tears flow. “You know what, I don’t wanna hear it. Back off.”

Bucky kneeled in front of you, smiling softly. “Y/N?”

“Y-yeah?” You held your nose in fear of it bleeding further.

“I’m so sorry the did that to you, I promise I would never have let them if I would’ve known. Are you alright?”

“Apart from nursing a headache and this nose bleed, I’ll be okay.” You smiled back up at him, his eyes glistening as he looked at you. “Shit, you need to get to the nurse.” He looked around you at the destruction of your bag, trying to pick up your scattered books.

“Did you draw this?” He asked, awe taking over his features. “Um, yes, I did. I’m sorry, it’s lame. I just saw the picture on my feed and I needed prac-”

“Y/N, babe, this is incredible.” He grinned from ear to ear, holding the book so delicately. “T-thank you, Bucky. It means a lot.” He slung your bag over his shoulder, offering you a hand as he led you to the nurses office.

“I’m still so sorry, Y/N. Can I please take you for coffee or something to make up for it?” He asked, brushing your hair behind your ear as you held tissue to your nose.

“I don’t drink coffee, but I’m definitely always down for pizza.” You laughed, Bucky joining you. “Well, pizza it is. Are you free tonight?”

- 6 months later -

Finishing the final sentence of your last-minute homework, you shoved the books into your bag as a knock at the door snapped you out of the world of your science work.

Opening the door with a smile, you saw Bucky, donned in his leather jacket and all black outfit.

“Mornin’ baby.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips as you grinned into it. “Good morning, Bucky.”

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked, interlocking his fingers with yours. “I’d sleep better if my boyfriend wouldn’t keep messaging me every five minutes!”

“Well forgive me for caring about you!” He laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You know I love you really.” You nudged him slightly as he grinned. “I love you too, doll.”

Between Us And Infinity

Originally posted by theseoks

Genre: Angst/fluff || soulmate!au / street performer!tae

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Length: 35.7k

Summary: Place two strangers together and give them seven days to fall in love, and they will be soulmates for the rest of eternity, otherwise, neither of the two will come to love anyone ever again; The Seven Days Countdown has always been an old wives tale to you and nothing more, but all of that changes once you meet Kim Taehyung in the midst of a crowd of thousands. From then on, your life is thrown into a race against time, not only on a mission to beat the clock in falling in love with the renowned heartthrob, but also on a quest to make him fall in love with you.

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Sleepovers and Confessions (Peter Parker x reader)

Originally posted by sexy-stan

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: You come over for a fun night with your best friend Peter. Only to end up spilling all the details on your crush on Peter to Aunt May, and maybe even Peter.

Warning: slight language

Requested: @summersimpkins-blog

Hope you enjoy this!! It was what you requested but I got a little writer happy with this haha, hope you still like it! Send me requests, I’ll write about your fav marvel character, etc.:)

_______________________________________________________________

“Shhh, May! Keep your voice down!” You quickly brought your forefinger up to your pursed lips, eyes wide as you sat down next to Aunt May.

She smiled widely at your sudden confession, excitement poured from her she began to squeal, almost jumping up and down, “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’m just- it’s just so exciting!” she belted out, both of her arms outstretched in your direction, signalling a hug. Leaning into her small frame, you squeezed her tightly. Letting go of one another, you smiled widely at her once again in a span of thirty seconds, nervousness and the pace of your heart rate caused the giddiness in your entire body.

You sighed tucking back a piece of hair behind your ear, “I just don’t know what to do. We’re just such good friends, best friends, you know that-” you interjected a different thought into the subject, looking to face her. She rapidly shook her head in an understanding manner, stopping to let you finish.

“It’s just, we’ve been friends for close to eight years. I just don’t want to ruin anything. And don’t even get me started on the whole Liz situation. That’s why I’ve been so distant from him these past few weeks,” you heavily exhaled, defeat instantly creeping up on you as the name Liz rolled off your tongue. It just put a bad taste in your mouth.

May smiled weakly at you, with a slight spark in her eyes, which you couldn’t help but find curious, “Y/N, don’t worry about Liz right now! You’ve known me and Peter basically your entire life. Trust me, I think once you tell him, he’ll feel-”

“How will who feel?”

Your mouth instantly intakes a sharp breath at the sweet sound of Peter’s voice, interrupting your entire conversation about… well, him. May’s eyes widen at the new position of her nephew, from the bathroom to the living room, which was quite inconvenient at this moment in time.

“Oh!” May interjects. You can instinctively realize she’s analyzing a plan in her mind, “Me and Y/N were just talking about… how my boss will feel if I’m late again for the night shift!” she says with a tense voice. You looked at her with thankful eyes, blessing her for saving your ass in yet another tight situation with Peter.

Peter looked skeptical at her sudden tactic. His bright brown eyes narrowed in both of you directions, eyebrows playfully scrunching, “Ohh-kay?” he questioned slightly. You looked over at him, a weak, but hopefully believable smile painted across your lips as May got up to leave for her ‘night shift’.  She said her goodbyes to both of you, winking at you before exiting the apartment.

Peter watched her leave, waving to her sweetly before turning towards you, his pink lips curled into a bright smile, eyebrows raised, “You ready to watch Return of the Jedi?”

You smiled at his excitement, the butterflies beginning to erupt in the pit of your stomach at his smile, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

__

Halfway through the movie, you began to notice you couldn’t keep your eyes on the film. Your Y/E/C eyes slowly began to daze over to Peter sitting next to you. His soft, lightly curled brown hair was left loose today, going perfectly with his blue sweater and matching new balances. Your gaze flew up to his narrowed, sparkling brown eyes paired with furrowed eyebrows, focused intently on the movie.

God, those eyes make you go insane. And those thin pink lips you yearned to forever be placed on yours. Why couldn’t you just admit to him how you’ve felt for him all these years. Why couldn’t you just say, “Peter, I-”

“Y/N?”

The soft voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts, “Yeah?” you questioned, breath heavy as your head whipped in the direction towards him.

His eyes scanned your face completely, wondering if you were okay, due to the fact you had been in outer space, dreaming of him for a very long time, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine Peter. I’m just tired-”

“Cut the crap Y/N.”

Your heart instantly picked up at the new and unfamiliar sound of his voice. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your eyes wide yet peeled in his direction, curiosity running through your veins. He never sounded like that. He sounded almost, hurt? Guilty? You couldn’t quite detect it, “What are you talking about?”

He scooted closer to you, putting one arms behind the back of the couch and one by his side, mere inches from yours. You snapped your head down to your close proximity. Sure, you’ve sat much closer than this before, but right now, it felt strange. Almost as if you were unsure of what to say to him.

“The past couple of weeks you’ve been acting weird. Last week, I was walking with Liz to Calculus and I saw you, but you sprinted off! At lunch two days ago, you and Ned were sitting at the lunch spot and once you saw Liz and I make our way over, you muttered something to Ned before you got up and ran off! Oh, and yesterday Liz walked with me to-”

“That’s the problem, Peter! Don’t you see the recurring issue in every one of your stories!” you cut him off, hopping off the couch in a rush, standing right in front of Peter. Your mind instantly seem to forget how to choose the correct words to say to Peter in this type of situation. It was as if you didn’t know how to hide your feelings anymore. Your mind clouded, not anywhere near stopping.

Your hand flung out by your side, signaling to the outside world before belting out another stupid confession, someone careless seeming to take over, “You were with Liz! You were with her and not me!”

Peter slouched slightly, his eyes beginning to widen at every growing word that rolled off your lips, mouth barely ajar as he seemed to be aware of where this situation was going.

You continued, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes as your stomach did somersaults, and your heart ready to explode, “Don’t you see! You pine after girls like Liz for fucks sake! That’s why I’ve been so distant lately! Me knowing and witnessing  you falling in love with someone like her made me realize I would never have a chance with you, Peter,” your throat closing up at the sudden confession, you eyes widening as he stared intently into your eyes, slowly rising from the couch, stepping right in front of you. His couple steps felt like miles as he made his way towards your downcast figure. Once he approached you, you could lightly feel his breath hitting your nose.

This was it. He was about to tell you the truth, and it wasn’t going to be good. Who would’ve thought a simple sleepover would’ve turned into this?

You could feel the atmosphere in the room quiet and thicken, your eyes still staring deeply into Peter’s. Your eyes glossed over with guilt and disappointment. While his portrayed sneakiness and adventure. It felt like years for either of you to have the courage to speak up and say anything involving the matter. You took matters into your own hands.

“You know what, I took this way too far. I-I’m sorry, I’ll just leave and we can forget all about-” except you were cut off by Peter’s calloused palms quickly yet gently grab your face and bring your lips up to his softly. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you couldn’t of cared less. Your mind once again clouded with nothing but thoughts of Peter. You kissed back, gently pressing your lips back against his, hands wrapping around his neck, to rest in that soft brown hair you yearned to tug on for years.

He pulled away, his lips lingering on yours for a few seconds before slowly opening his eyes to meet yours in a loved daze, “Liz means nothing. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes lifted with happiness at his words, heart prepared to explode with happiness and love, pulling him against your slightly shorter frame. His arms instantly wrapped themselves around your waist, causing an ignited feeling you’ve never felt before.

“I knew May was lying,” he said slyly, hugging you tighter as his words echoed in your ear.

You smiled to yourself, rolling your eyes at his cockiness, snuggling into his warm embrace, “Of course.”

anonymous asked:

What if Stiles and Derek's first kiss is post-nogitsune? Would he feel like a thief? Would he mourn the body that Derek never held? Would each brush of fingertips or kiss to his temple be a betrayal? They'd probably talk about the scars too. Derek would understand-- to an extent. But he grew up not without his history on his skin so he'll never understand how it feels to have that ripped away.

Their lips brush and Stiles turns away a second later, breaths shallow, hands twitching against the folds of Derek’s shirt. There’s warm breath on his cheek, the ghost of beard still so close and all Stiles can think is that he wants this. He wants this. And…

It’s wrong.

Those fingers, twitching against Derek’s shirt, smooth and uncalloused. The scar that used to live above his third knuckle just a burn-hot memory in his mind.

Everything still feels off in his body, out of balance, and he remembers the way Derek used to look at him. All tension and frustration in ways he couldn’t start to make sense of. And now Derek’s lips are in reach, a short turn away, and he’s murmuring out “Stiles…?” and all Stiles can think is…

“Do you want me?”

He can feel the stall in Derek’s thoughts like a physical reaction, and he wonders if there was a subtle tell or if… if he’d just felt it, inside, the confusion a flicker of chaos in Derek’s chest. Can he do that? Feel chaos? The Nogitsune drank it in and Stiles…

“Stiles,” Derek breathes again, a quirk of amusement in his tone. Thumbs smooth down his hips and Stiles fights the urge to rise into the contact. “Thought I’d just answered that question.”

And Stiles could leave it at that, asked and answered. Except…

There should be a scar on his hip, long and thin, from a fence he’d scaled once and dropped down five times faster. Derek should be feeling that right now, that piece of Stiles’ history, that stupid ten year old adventure laid out across his skin. But the skin’s smooth. Blank slate.

He shivers, gripping tighter into Derek’s shirt.

“No, I––” He can’t think of how to explain it. The thoughts are a choked feeling in his throat, a twist in his gut. Something like guilt and fear and he doesn’t even know what answer he wants when he leans back enough to find Derek’s eyes and say: “Since when? Did you… I mean, before…”

He’s not sure Derek knows what he means, but there’s a hint of flush under that dark beard suddenly, and Stiles gets a little bit lost in the contrast.

“Last summer.”

“Last––?” It pulls Stiles back, his eyes startling up. That was… most of a year, that was before…

A sick lurch sets him falling back out of Derek’s grip. Too-smooth fingers (uncalloused) slip too easy from Derek’s chest. His sneaker-covered feet might as well be walking over glass and he’s being dramatic except that he’s really not. Because if Derek wanted him last summer…

“That wasn’t me.” It sounds wrong as he says it, stupid, because… he was there that summer. He remembers every moment spent with Derek, researching the Alphas, searching for hints of Boyd and Erica. Charged smirks and snark and quiet moments that felt more comfortable than they should. He remembers the moments before summer too, when the thought of Derek made his heart pound and his body thrum in a way that could have only meant fear, except it hadn’t only been fear. He’d been scared of the Alpha too, and the hunters, and that coil of electric heat only sparked through his gut for Derek. He remembers that, like he remembers the scars that aren’t there anymore, and he can’t help running his too-soft fingertips over the smooth flesh of his knuckle as he breathes out, faint and lost, “…Was that me?”

There’s a too long pause while the question burns back into his throat, buzzing through his limbs like a current until he realizes he’s shaking from them. Was that him? Helping Derek track the Alpha pack? Helping Scott learn to control his wolf? Sitting by his mom’s hospital bed, watching her lose the long war to her illness, pieces of her flaking away like old scars, like a whole identity, like––

A warm hand closes over his, large and gentle, grounding.

“It was you,” Derek says, simply. Like there’s no question, like nothing’s changed. Like Stiles hasn’t changed. 

But that’s wrong. He’s not the same person he was before the Nogitsune, and he’s not talking in the experiences change you, huh kind of way. He’d had scars before. He’d had… a whole life written on his skin. And then he’d crawled out from inside his possessed body’s throat, spawned out like some alien parasite or… clone and––

“My body died, back there.” Four months past, and he still can’t wrap his head around it. That he’d watched himself bitten and impaled, spasm and cracking and shatter to dust.

The scarred body. His real body.

And he was left in… this.

Long fingers uncurl, stretching out slow. Thin, pale digits fitting strangely perfect between Derek’s, and Stiles can only wonder what it would have looked like before.

“…What if I’m not real?” He watches Derek’s fingers twitch, barely perceptible, tightening like they’re fighting to hold onto him. And Derek’s lost enough in his life, too much. It’s a dick move to say this, to take anything else away from him, but… “What if the guy you wanted last summer… what if he died inside the Nogitsune, and I’m just––”

No.”

The sureness of it has Stiles’ throat clenching. He tilts his head, challenging. Finds Derek’s eyes again.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Which is just… it’s stupid how that makes Stiles’ heart jump. Flutter around like it’s fighting to leap the distance between them and plaster itself all up against Derek’s stupid, muscled, secretly sweet as hell chest.

Which… yeah, that’s nearly a gross enough visual to stomp his fondness boner in the bud. He sets his jaw.

“Did you know I used to have a scar on––”

“Your right hand? Just above the third knuckle, a burn.”

Stiles’ argument stalls out. He blinks, finger shifting to rub over the space, but Derek’s is already there, soothing the phantom mark over his skin.

“I… was eleven.” Because silence has never been safe for him. Because noise distracts from the too-easy pleasure rippling up his arm. “First time I tried cooking dinner for me and dad. Mac and cheese, it… didn’t go great.” He wets his lips. Looks away “Or… the other me did, I don’t––”

You did.” And Derek still sounds so damn sure. Stiles wants to believe him. He parts his lips, can’t. Because––

“Stiles, I’ve never had scars on my skin. I… can’t relate to what it’s like to lose them. But the things that have happened to me… they’re not any less real because I can’t see them. Every bullet, cut, punch I’ve taken…” He might sense the wince forming on Stiles’ face, and shakes his head, shrugging that off like it’s not important. But that’s an argument for another day. “Every scar life gave you… they’re still there. You’re still carrying them, inside you.” He flits his eyes down Stiles’ frame, then away, finger soothing over the ghost burn. “There are plenty no one would have ever seen anyway. But they made you. Who you are, and who you are…” He shakes his head, looks back to meet Stiles’ eyes squarely. “You recognized me when I was a teenager. That’s the same person who recognized me in the preserve.” Stiles feels his face heat because… even knowing Derek’s a werewolf now, he’d never put together that Derek would have heard his fangirl moment to Scott after Derek had walked away.

Before he can speak up, though, Derek’s going on. “You tracked me to Mexico. Faced down the Calaveras to save me. That’s the same person who stared down the Argents, drove a Jeep into a kanima, who hit an Alpha with a wooden baseball bat––”

“Two Alphas,” Stiles cuts in, because props, ok? “Two, that were…” His free hand mimes squishing, and Derek’s lips twitch.

“Two,” he agrees, and Stiles can’t not smile back. Just for a second –– fond, helpless –– then he’s ducking his head. Derek sighs, catches his chin. Guides it up until their gazes lock again.

“That was you,” he says, so firmly Stiles can’t help believing this time. “Was the man who clawed his way out of his own possession. Followed Scott’s howl back to the real world. And whatever happened to your body, whatever… magic gave you a new one, Stiles came out with it. Your scars are still there, just…” His fingers trail to Stiles’ chest, and something thumps out eagerly to meet them.

“Inside,” Stiles breathes, and the way Derek’s eyes warm makes him shiver with a proud ripple of pleasure.

“Inside,” Derek echoes. Runs a thumb light along Stiles’ lip. “You could have come out of the Nogitsune looking like anything. Wouldn’t change who you are.”

And damn, Stiles has fallen for a goddamn poet in a grumpy wolf’s body. …But then, Stiles is pretty sure he’d known that already.

His fingers go up, curl gently into Derek’s shirt.

“But… you like this body,” he prompts, and Derek gives an exasperated huff, pulling him in.

“I like this body,” he confirms, and it doesn’t feel wrong to hear that.

When Derek kisses him this time, Stiles doesn’t pull away.

Different Ways to Say “I love you”

Peter and you had been seeing each other for quite some time – longer than he had imagined you staying with him, anyway. Five months of his life had been dedicated to you, romantically. Peter would never tell you, but he had dedicated his life to you since your first day at Midtown High. You had met Ned in one of your classes and he had convinced you to join the decathlon on your first day. Peter had owed him ever since that day.

It was hard for Peter to ask you out – hell, it had taken him a year to even tell you that you were pretty. So, it didn’t come to a surprise to him when he found himself too terrified to tell you how deeply he felt for you. He loved you – he loved the way you were smarter than him (you knew that, but you never made him feel insignificant), he loved that when you wanted to hold his hand you’d walk next to him and let your hands brush first (you’d start tapping his fingers with yours until eventually your hand engulfed his completely), he loved how when you found out he was Spider-Man you weren’t mad that he kept it from you (“I get why you couldn’t tell me – you have to promise me you’re going to come back… you have to come back to me.” “You’re the only reason I’ll always come back… a-and Aunt May, obviously.”). He loved you – he knew he did. He had tried to tell you so many times. But, what he didn’t know was that he had already told you he loved you – in so many different ways.


“You got me this?” Peter nodded at you. “You were in Berlin – fighting alongside the Avenger’s… and you found time to get me something?” Peter couldn’t fight the blush on his face even if he tried.

“I-It’s not a big deal. I saw it in the window. I don’t know, I just – it reminded me of you.” You smiled, leaning in to peck him.

“I love it.”


“Ugh, Pete,” you whined, your eyes welling up with tears. “It’s broken.” You held up the charm bracelet that Peter had given you for your birthday. “I’m so sorry,” a couple of tears had fallen and Peter was quick to reach up and brush them away.

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, “it’s just a bracelet, it’s okay.” You shook your head.

“I loved this gift – it’s my favorite bracelet.” Peter’s heart beat a little faster.

Come here,” he whispered, “come on. Let me fix it.” And he was relieved to see the smile on your face as you made your way to him.


“I’m glad you came tonight, Peter.” You nudged him as you walked out of Liz’s house together, side-by-side.

“I am, too.” He smiled softly at you, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets as you both fell into a comfortable silence. It was a cool night in New York and as Peter saw you wrap your arms around yourself he registered you had forgotten to bring a jacket. He automatically pulled his sweater over his head, straightening out his shirt. “Here,” he handed you his sweater. You shook your head.

“Peter, no. It’s fine, I’m fine.” He gave you a pointed look.

Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.” You reluctantly took the jacket and pulled it over yourself, feeling his scent overwhelm you and a smile ghosting on your face.

“Thank you, Peter.” You linked your arms together and pushed yourself up to kiss his cheek. Smiling when he turned red and mumbled a small ‘anytime’.


“I’m sorry that I’m ruining our date night, Peter.” Peter shook his head until he remembered you couldn’t see him over the phone.

“You’re not ruining anything, babe,” he said, packing up his backpack with the necessities May told him he’d need. “You need to focus on that sore throat.” There was silence. “Babe?”

“Huh?” He chuckled, walking out of his front door. “I’m sorry, Petey. I dozed off.”

“It’s fine, I’ll see you later. Okay?” You mumbled an incoherent response before Peter decided to end the call. He found himself outside of your home fifteen minutes later. He knocked and your mom let him in, letting him quietly use your kitchen to warm up the tea he had brought for you. He then quietly walked to your room, opening your door to see you sleeping. He almost didn’t wake you up, but knew your tea would be cold. “(Y/N)? Babe?” You stirred awake, feeling alert and sitting up when you saw Peter on your bed.

“Peter! What are you doing here? You’re going to get sick!” He shushed your hoarse voice, picking up the cup and handing it to you.

“Here,” you grabbed the cup, looking at its contents, “drink this. You’ll feel better.” You looked at his dough eyes and opened your mouth to say something, until deciding to just keep quiet and drink the tea, a soft smile on your face.


“Oh, my god.” Peter turned around from his seat at his desk, seeing your distraught expression as your eyes grazed over the test you both had received from Calculus.

“What’s wrong?” You bit your lip to stop it from quivering.

“I failed,” you whispered. You had studied with Michelle and Betty for two weeks straight. You had thought you were doing so well – even Michelle had thought so. How could you have failed?

“Hey,” you looked up at Peter, “it’s just one test. You’ll get ‘em next time.” You smiled at the use of his words – it was a phrase you’d use on him whenever he didn’t pass a quiz or test he didn’t study for due to his after-school activities.

“I guess,” you sighed, your smile fading. Peter stood up, walking over to his dresser. He opened the top drawer and shuffled through it, picking up a CD case. He sighed, counting to three before turning around to sit next to you on the bed.

“Here,” you took the CD from his hands.

PETER’S HAPPY MIX

You looked up at him, seeing him shrug. “You might like this,” he stated. “It makes me feel better when I feel like crap.” You reached over and hugged him, mumbling about a million thank you’s.


Now here Peter sits, next to you on his couch, watching a movie of your choice. It was one that you had seen at least a hundred times, but he didn’t mind. If you loved it, so did he. And, god, did you love it. He watched your profile, seeing your lips move as you recited the character’s lines – every character’s lines. Your hands were moving in tune with them, too. And as he looked at you he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t plan it coming out like this, but it just happened. He just – “I love you.” Your hands stopped and so did your lips. You turned to look at him quickly.

“What?” Peter nodded slowly, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.

“I love you.” He repeated. “I love you, and I have for awhile. I don’t know when liking you stopped and loving you started – it all kind of just blends together but – yeah. I love you.” You blinked a few times, registering how your shy and reserved boyfriend, Peter Parker, got the nerve to tell you he loved you before you did. You shook your head at the thought. Peter Parker was braver than you – who knew?

“I love you, Peter.” You finally said, the look on his face telling you your silence was scaring him.

“You do?” He asked, too ecstatic, but he didn’t care. You nodded, setting the bowl of popcorn that was on your lap on top of the coffee table. You sat up and crawled closer to him, leaning over him slightly.

“I love you so much, Peter Parker.” You leaned all the way down, pressing your lips against Peter and feeling Peter wait not even a second before matching your pace.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled against your lips, but not stopping your kiss.

Even though Peter Parker had told you he loved you more than once, he felt a weight lift off of his chest after hearing it come out clear as day from the both of you.

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Married with Benefits (Part 14)

Summary: In order to not pay out-of-state tuition, you ask your friend, Steve Rogers, to marry you. Things, as always, never go as planned. (College AU)

Word Count: 633

“Married with Benefits” Masterlist

Originally posted by xessxava

Steve couldn’t stop looking at you as the ceremony finished and you were promptly dismissed from the courtroom, a marriage certificate neatly filed in a manila folder. His heart beating at a thousand miles per minutes, he grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers, giving you an eye-crinkling smile as you gave him a glance.

Bucky walked backwards, arms extended, and wearing a wide smile. “Alright, now that you guys are hitched, we need to celebrate!”

A restaurant was decided upon and then it was time for drinks, upon Bucky’s insistence. Nat took everyone to her favorite bar, where you slid into a booth and Steve right behind you, his arm naturally draping around you.

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dating peter parker would include...

dedicated to my harrison bestie anon in hopes it makes them smile :) also yes it’s really fuckin long i’m sorry i just love peter parker and have a lot of feelings

  • you actually hate to tell the story of how you two met because it’s mortifiying oh mygod
  • peter, however, loves to watch u blush about it even though it was only really embarrassing when it happened
  • taking the subway to school like every other day, you obviously had spent too many hours on the internet so u were tired as hell 
  • so tired you couldn’t grab the pole in time when the subway stopped
  • and you in an ungraceful manner, tripped, stumbled and fell
  • into his lap
  • his l a p 
  • you still get red cheeks when remember just how embarrassing it was
  • oh my god! i c-can’t believe that- i-i, i’m so so sorry- h-holy shit–
  • peter did find it extremely awkward but your mortified and blushing red face was so much more adorable 
  • n-no, it’s fine– d-do you want my seat?
  • o-oh no, it’s alright. i’d just like to crawl into a hole somewhere. sudden amnesia works too.
  • AND BOY
  • a cute girl with wit and oh my is that a nerdy shirt????
  • from them on, you had his entire heart 
  • yes i will totally be writing a full on imagine for this
  • you guys weren’t friends for long if u know what i mean 
  • like you had already face planted into his lap so you skipped most of the awkward interactions
  • you were kinda like ‘ah what the hell’ 
  • you did it while you guys were walking home together, like usual
  • hey peter, can you hold this for me?
  • yeah?” 
  • and you just grabbed his hand, grinning at him with wink 
  • cue the cutest blushing from peter 
  • peter goddamn nearly had a heart attack but couldn’t stop smiling the entire walk home 
  • he was really sad when he reached your building 
  • but then you stood on ur tippy toes and kissed him on the cheek so he wasn’t that sad
  • eventually kisses on the cheeks became kisses on the lips & it wasn’t official but you two just knew
  • let’s be real, peter is the worlds biggest dork so movie marathons are so common
  • i mean everything– star wars, back to the future, jurassic park, like man you name it 
  • and if u were a nerd too, then oH boy he would just be in a constant state of heart eyes 
  • he would be anyways but extra heart eyes if u geek out
  • c’mon pete, hurry that cute lil ass up! it’s rogue one!!
  • oh my god, please marry me right now.
  • you guys definitely try to quote movies as much as possible
  • i love you” ”i know *intense blushing* diD YOU JUST–
  • he has a such soft spot for when you guys marathon disney movies not that he tells you that
  • something about you lighting up & singing along makes him go !!!!!!! inside
  • no you two never perform disney duet songs together never ever have you done that why do u ask
  • (your favourite one to perform is hakuna matata because its a goddamn classic and peter gets so into it)
  • (breaking free from hsm is a close second because damn can peter hit those notes when he really tries)
  • peter parker is such an admirer like you dont even know
  • he could stare at you for hours and its pretty much what gets him through the day tbh
  • in fact, he has all your birthmarks and freckles committed to memory because shes so pretty i can’t deal with this
  • he blushes SO MUCH when you catch him staring
  • but lets be real, you were staring at him too
  • he blushed even more when he found that out because oh my fucking god she was staring at me do i look weird is there something on my face
  • but when you’re like no you goof, i’m admiring youu get 
  • BLUSHING STUTTERING STAMMERING PETER PARKER
  • he just never stops blushing 
  • he! would! try! so! hard! at everything 4 you
  • baking? hell yeah he’ll bake for u
  • singing? eh he’ll give it a go (but only for you)  
  • dancing? he hates it but he loves to watch u laugh and smile with him so he does it anyways (even if he sucks)
  • speaking of dancing
  • peter loves it when u dance
  • especially when you stay over and he wakes up to you dancing around the kitchen or his room 
  • his favourite is catching you off guard when you’re grooving to some 80′s song
  • babe– cutting himself off with his own laughter, i don’t think that’s dancing.
  • he loves to tease you about your funky dancing because seeing his girl blushing is like his second favourite thing
  • (the first being your smile because it completely melts his insides and everything is better when you smile at him)
  • you also love it when he’s teasing because all you have is pout and suddenly peter’s showering you in kisses 
  • peter is such a sucker for kisses
  • actually he’s such a hopeless romantic & lover of cliches like
  • constantly bringing you flowers he finds on nightly patrols? check 
  • stopping so you two can share a cutesy kiss in the rain? check 
  • dumb pick up lines that still make you laugh? check 
  • tbh you both do pickup lines
  • hey, hey y/n, are you the square root of -1? because you can’t be real 
  • are you kIDDING– NO I’M NOT BLUSHING AT YOUR DUMB PICK UP LINE GO AWAY PARKER
  • he just giggles at you from the bed
  • except when you do it, its a different story
  • hey hey hey, peter 
  • hmm?” 
  • are you related to yoda? because yodalicious.
  • peter just falls off the bed 
  • you don’t even ask if he’s alright, you just cut straight to laughing at his reaction
  • s-shut up! this isn’t because of your pick up line!! i was startled! 
  • even though he’s trying to hide his face in a pillow, you can see his pink cheeks
  • sure, peter, sure. 
  • aunt may is both a blessing and a curse to both of you 
  • because she spills BOTH OF YOUR SECRETS
  • like you can’t ramble to her about peter because she will tell him everything
  • with you in the same room 
  • oh peter, you’re wearing that shirt? i know y/n loves it, she was talking just the other day about how she find it so hot– 
  • “MAY HE DOESN’T NEED TO KNOW”
  • peter secretly really wants to know what you said about him 
  • but aunt may does it to peter too and he hates it
  • “seriously y/n, you should hear the things he says about you, i swear he’s turned into some lovesick–”
  • “nO MAY SHH YOU CAN STOP NOW”
  • makeout sessions ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
  • you both l o v e them 
  • funnily enough, peter is the one who usually starts them 
  • hey y/n, you’ve got something on your face, let me just– *kisses you all over you face*
  • because he’s more than ahead in his classes, ‘study dates’ really means makeout not that you mind though  
  • peter loves kisses everywhere
  • forehead kisses
  • nose kisses
  • shoulder kisses
  • eyelid kisses
  • back of the hand kisses
  • all the kisses
  • his absolute favourite kiss is the one he receives from you in the morning when you’ve stayed over
  • he’ll play with your hair softly and you’ll yawn & stretch and catch him gazing at you 
  • and you just smile and lean up and kiss him 
  • it never fails to make peters heart stop and when you pull away he just goes nooooooooooooo and pouts till you kiss him again 
  • it’s especially hard when you have to leave or part ways after school because peter turns into a needy lil boy
  • one more kiss! one more! 
  • peter you’ve said that seven times now!! 
  • you literally have to push his away, giggling and grinning, because otherwise he’s going to be late 
  • i swear to god parker, it’s only one class! 
  • and of course you know about him being spidey
  • you actually found out by accident 
  • you were searching thru his closest for something to wear when you stumbled across it 
  • tbh you thought it was a really dedicated costume at first
  • so you put it on and it was so fucking baggy man
  • hey peter! look at me, i’m the spider man! thwip thwip! 
  • except it was the real thing so 
  • y-y/n!! where did you find that??? 
  • don’t worry, i’ll keep your spider-man obsession a secret, peter.
  • but when you accidentally web peter’s hand to the wall, you figure out this suit is the real deal 
  • holy shit!! holy shit! you– you’re, this is the real, oh my god, you’re the spider-man!  
  • peter just panics because you’ve webbed him to the wall and he can’t actually do anything
  • no! no i’m not!
  • you freak out for like another minute before you gather your senses enough 
  • peter parker, do not play with me right now- are you spider-man?
  • would you believe me if i said it was a very detailed halloween costume?
  • after cutting him free, you squeezed him into the tightest hug because you were so goddamn proud of him 
  • but also because oh my god how many times had he risked his life and had you not known???? 
  • oh my god, this is so wicked i can’t believe you’re spider-man–
  • you can’t tell anyone! 
  • shh, you know i wouldn’t but holy god! you have to tell me everything
  • you’re not mad i didn’t tell you?” 
  • pfft, i’ll only be mad if you don’t tell me now.
  • yes i also want to make this an imagine
  • yes, you’re the one who patches him up which always ends in cuddles
  • basically you get to shower peter in constant love and affection because he would do that and more for you 
  • he’s just the perfect boyfriend??? 
  • i want a peter parker

i. you touch him and it’s like a war. the burning in your bones overpowers your mind and your heart pounds like the drums calling soldiers to the bloodbath. it’s violent and visceral and you feel some part of you latch onto to his skin, a mark left on you for the stars to find when they uncover your story.


ii. he smiles at you and the stars become surpassed in what brings you light. it’s all teeth but there’s a hint of joy in the way his mouth moves around you. the sun’s blaze turns to ash and you feel warm and wanted. you are living in the darkness until his grin finds yours and from that moment, everything in you is made with his echoes. 


iii. his voice becomes your compass, becomes your truth north. his voice is the one you can pick out in the middle of the crowd, in the middle of the battle because it is the map to home. the sound of your name coming off his lips is your anchor and without his voice you would drown, down to bottom of the endless ocean.


iv. his eyes are dark enough to fall in. his eyes hold the torment he has been through and you wish you could heal his scars but you can only try to take away some of the ache. his eyes would make the deities of the ancient world throw themselves into the pit to prevent anymore loss. his eyes find yours and the colors of the universe seem brighter, seem softer, seem more beautiful. 


v. you love him. that is what the pounding of your heart sings. you love him from this universe to the next and the constellations will yearn to chart your story and the history books will place your names side by side and it will never be enough. because you love him and even after death, you’d find him.

—  Depths of Devotion by Abby S
inevitable realizations ☼ peter parker

summary : peter’s always been a little bit in love with you, it just took a difficult night and warm, ever comforting words for him to come to the realization. intelligent he may be, but he’s a clueless teenage boy before anything else.

word count : 2.5k

   It was eleven o’clock at night and, as per usual, you were neglecting the sleep you desperately needed in order to finish up the notes on your assigned reading novel that were due in just a few short hours. You were never one to finish tasks, especially menial ones such as homework, in a timely fashion. This was just the tip of the iceberg. You briefly took off your glasses, rubbing your tired eyes that were now struggling to focus on the words in front of you properly. When you slipped them back over your nose, glancing up toward your bedroom window that lead out to the fire escape, you saw the familiar face of your best friend peering in through the glass in a way that was only slightly creepy. 

   Peter knocked rapidly on the glass, waving at you in the typical, hyperactive way that he always had about him. You jumped off your bed, reaching out to shut your bedroom door before walking over to the bay window and unlocking it. A rush of cold winter air nipped at your face the minute it swung open and Peter Parker shoved himself through. Visits from him in this particular manner were common, especially after a day’s work of fighting crime throughout various parts of New York, but not usually this late- and never without a text to alert you first.  

    “You must be freezing,” you shivered, closing the window quickly. “How long were you out there?” Making yourself comfortable on your bed once again, you propped open your book, ready to force him into helping you study. He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew his sweatshirt closer to his body, sliding to the floor beside your bed and leaning his head against the soft duvet. His curls were sticking up in every direction when he pulled his hood away, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a brilliant shade of red, but not from the bitter chill that was sweeping mercilessly over Queens. 

   You heard a distinct sniff, then another, then another. His breathing, already shallow from the frantic climbing he had done to reach your fire escape, became even more labored. He pulled his knees to his chest to hide his face. He felt you press yourself against him, your arms around his shoulders and across his chest before he could pull away in embarrassment. Your glasses creaked when they pushed too far into his shoulder. Neither of you moved. You clung to him and he sat there, silently shaking and leaning into your embrace as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

   “Hey, hey, shh, shh, Peter, you’re okay,” you whispered, rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, I promise. You’ve gotta breathe, though, okay?” He was always ashamed of his sensitivity, but he couldn’t help it. He was a sensitive boy and he cried easily and had an awful lot of anxiety sometimes. Today was one of those days, with good reason. He nodded stiffly, maneuvering himself to hug you back, face pressed into your shoulder this time. 

   “It’s… the anniversary,” he said, his voice broken. “One year.” Hollow. “One year since- since Ben. One year tomorrow.” 

   He pulled away, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt. There were traces of tears still making their way down his cheeks, sliding across his nose and down to his lips. He tried to rub them away, too, but you caught his wrist in your hand. 

   “You’re not wrong or less of a dude for crying, Peter.” The way you looked at him, so lovely and caring and worried, made his heart cry out for the safety of your embrace again. “Were you at the cemetery?” You matched his stance and rested the side of your cheek on your knee, still carefully studying his face. 

   “Yeah,” he exhaled, placing his chin in his palm. “I’m gonna go again in the morning with May. Gonna miss school. I- I probably should’ve, um, stayed with her tonight but I…” he trailed off, “I needed you.” He said it as he said most things to you, with his soft tone of voice and his hesitance that made him, him. He never really noticed until now. 

   “What are best friends for, right?”  

    “Yeah. Best friends.” 

    Ignoring the odd way those two words slipped out of his mouth, you said, “I’m sorry, Peter. I know you loved Uncle Ben so much. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this. You and May don’t deserve this.” You reached out to him, your hand gripping his without an ounce of doubt. You had small hands and he didn’t but he felt a thousand times better when yours found his. “I’m always here for you. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

   Surprisingly, he shook his head adamantly. “No, no.” He squeezed your hand. “I kind of, um, just wanna go to bed. Crying like a little baby really tires a guy out, you know?” He gave a weak laugh, a tiny grin, and you smiled right back at him before pulling him to his feet. “Can I use the bathroom?” He needed to wash the sticky feeling of dry tears off his face, rub the sadness out of his eyes. He wanted to be strong for May when he got back in the morning. 

   “Of course, just be quiet. Mom and dad are asleep.” You padded across your rug and opened your door a crack, holding it in a specific way so that it wouldn’t creak when you let Peter through. He gave you a grateful squeeze of the hand again before disappearing into the bathroom. 

    He splashed water on his face, staring up at his reflection, at the water dripping off his eyelashes and the curling ends of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. He rubbed at his face and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cry anymore. You had sufficiently comforted him for the night. Peter could breathe again. 

   Peter quietly walked back down the hallway and into your bedroom, watching for a second as you pulled spare blankets down from a shelf in your closet and arranged them on your bay window. You had cleared your bed of your school supplies and had left the covers open for Peter to crawl into without a second though. Which he did. Your covers smelled quite lovely, actually. It was the scent of your perfume that you wore often enough for him to recognize the scent, and he wanted to fall asleep under the inviting covers that were laid out for him. Then, he saw you sit atop your window, about to lie down. 

   “Wait, why are you doing that?” He got out of bed and took your hand for the third time that night, growing accustomed to the feeling of it. He pulled you over to your bed. “You’re not sleeping on a stupid window. That’s ridiculous. I’ll take the window.” He spun you around and ignored the protestant noise you made, gripping your shoulders and sitting you down on the bed. 

   “I’m not letting you take the window, either!” You argued, yanking him back down on the bed. He huffed, glaring at you in a teasing manner. “C’mon, just take the bed. You need it more than I do.” His glare dropped to his lap, an idea rolling around in his head. “What?” 

   “Y/N, how about we just both take the bed?” He said finally, lifting his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, why he didn’t just take the floor like he probably should have, but the words were out there in the world and there wasn’t a way to take them back now. You bit your lip, then shrugged, scooting over. 

   “It is big enough for the two of us.” You turned away from him, turning off your lamp and getting under the covers. You heard Peter slide in next to you, but your back was toward him until he poked you sharply. “What’s wrong, Peter?” 

   “Can you- um, well-” 

   You flipped over on your side, just barely making out his face in the darkness of your room. “Do you want me to cuddle you?” Though you said in a teasing sort of tone, you were silently quite pleased when he mumbled a reluctant yes. You moved closer, one arm going around his waist and the other underneath him. Your head was on his chest, listening to the resilient beating of his heart. He placed his chin atop your head. He focused on the sound of your steady breaths until you were sleeping peacefully beside him. 

    He was so grateful for you- the person who stood by his side throughout anything and everything. You, so strong and beautiful and brave and comforting in his times of distress. You, who never seemed to waver in your loyalty to him. You, the very picture of loveliness and a girl who he’d very much like to- 

   His eyes flew open, and he almost jumped away from you. He didn’t want to risk you awakening, though, so he stayed put, freaking out internally rather than externally the way he was prone to doing. He had been thinking of kissing you. That was what he was going to say. Kiss. The thought had come so simply to his brain it was like he already thought the same thing for years. Maybe he had. It wasn’t like he was blind. You were a stunning girl, even if you didn’t think so yourself, you were his best friend, you were practically perfect and Peter would be an idiot to not adore you the way that he did. 

   Adore, adore, adore. Oh, boy. Peter glanced down at you, sleeping in his arms, and confirmed what he had so stupidly never noticed before. His infinitesimal, brief affection for Liz Allen had absolutely nothing on his all encompassing love for you. 


   Peter bid you goodbye that morning at six thirty sharp, before either of your parents had woken up for work. Before he slipped out your window and into the cracks early morning sunlight, he had pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. It was only the briefest touch of his lips to your face, but you had held your face, right in that spot, for practically the entire day. Ned had questioned why, but you brushed him off with an answer of exhaustion. 

   The day after that, Peter returned to school, dragging Ned off to the side as soon as he stepped off the train platform. He had waited for the other boy purposely, seeking advice. 

   “I have a huge, gigantic, terrible awful problem right now, Ned!” He exclaimed as soon as he saw him, throwing his hands up in the air. “I need help.” 

   “Psychiatric help,” Michelle supplied, appearing out of nowhere as she usually did before walking down the path to school. 

   Ned shrugged. “She’s not wrong.” 

   Peter, frantic, seized Ned’s shoulders and shook him. “This is not a roast Peter session! This a cry for help! Help me, Ned Leeds!” 

   “Am I your only hope?” Peter wanted to scream. 

   “This isn’t the time for Star Wars puns, either!” Not waiting for Ned to quip back that every time was Star Wars time, Peter said, loudly, “I’m in love with Y/N and I don’t know what to do!” He ran his hands in his hair, wanting to pull it out. “I just- I just realized the other night! Everything just kind of, like, clicked and I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve realized it before, but of course I didn’t and now I have no idea what to do!” 

   “Wait, dude, you seriously have never noticed this before? Are you kidding me? Peter, you’re supposed to be the genius of the school. I feel let down.” Ned shook his head solemnly. “Dude, everyone knows you love her. Even Flash. That’s why he picks on her all the time. He likes pissing you off and nothing gets under your skin more than someone messing with Y/N. She’s the first one you told about being Spider-Man, you go to her for all your problems, you practically pee yourself racing to be her partner for almost everything- not science because science is our subject, but still. I figured you knew you loved her and just didn’t wanna talk about it because she’s out of your league.” 

   “Hey! I am not-” He stopped. “So what if I am? That’s not even the point. The point is that I love her. Me realizing it was inevitable, even if it took me like eighty years to get there. Doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell her, right?”

   “You totally should,” Ned encouraged. “She’s definitely in love with you, too.” 

    Hopefully, Peter grinned. “You really think so?” 

    “Anything’s possible!” 

    “The reassurance you give me is suffocating, Ned. Stop before I die.” 

    That day in gym class, Ned and Peter went off to the side to pretend they were doing stretches while you sat with Michelle and conversed about literature for the first half of the period. Your conversation, however, soon led off into other directions. 

    “Hey, MJ, have you ever… I don’t know, been in love?” 

    Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Only with crushing the patriarchy. Why? Have you?” The intuitive girl already knew your answer, of course, but she was invested in you and Peter’s love story and was desperate to hear the truth from your own lips. 

   You played with the hem of your shirt, thinking. Peter and Ned casually inched closer, having been listening to the conversation for quite sometime now. They were unapologetically nosy. “I think I am.” 

   “With who?” Peter clasped his hands together, silently pleading with the universe to grant him this one wish. I promise, universe, I’ll never ask for anything ever again in my whole life if you just let this girl love me back I swear I’ll be the best Spider-Man there ever was and I’ll protect New York until I’m eighty five just please oh my god please- 

   “With Peter.” 

   The gasp he let out was involuntary, but you didn’t hear him. He turned to Ned, his expression of shock, as well as elation, mirroring Peter’s own. Suddenly, Ned stood, shouting for the entire gym class to hear, “Y/N! Peter loves you too!” You looked up, Michelle’s happy and knowing smirk going unnoticed by you because the only thing you could focus on was Peter and what Ned had just declared. 

   The gym fell silent, every student turning to stare at you and Peter. You were frozen in shock up until the bell rang and everyone filed out quickly, leaving you and Peter alone. 

   “Did he mean it?” You asked, your sneakers squeaking against the floor as you closed the distance between you and Peter, your head tilted to meet his. 

   “It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said.” His lips met yours, and the slant of his mouth against your own was a feeling you could definitely come to adore more than you already did after just one kiss. 

Throat

Originally posted by bovaria

Summary: Bucky can’t quite control himself when it comes to you, and he’s not about to change that.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  i’m disgusting dude :/

WARNINGS: 18+!, dirty talk, masturbation, gagging, spanking, SLIGHT voyeurism, in general it’s nasty and i’m sorry. also! no condom is used in this but that don’t mean you can go around shoving ya dix and fajitas and whatnot anywhere ya want without protection. keep it safe.

Wordcount: 5,400 (no self control? i think so.)


Bucky Barnes was the kind of man to keep things bottled up. He was the kind of man that clutched his fists tight, kept his mouth shut, and dealt with things in his own time. More often than not, his methods of coping with situations gone wrong usually remained orthodox and controlled. He would sit and write until his mind could write no more and it was easier to breathe. Until he could face his team, face you, and function properly.

You were never an easy team member. Stubborn, scrappy in principles and always looking to give him a wild rush. He could almost say he hated working with you. He hated how you were always questioning orders, even if you often had a point, and how he could never concentrate with you around. Bucky Barnes hated the way you made him feel.

Like he wanted to grab a hold of your hair and smash his lips to yours. Like he couldn’t wait to tell you just how crazy you really drove him.

So it was hard, living with you. Often times, he scorned himself for choosing to reside in your second bedroom rather than in Steve’s apartment. He had been given a choice, and Bucky just couldn’t shut down your offer. He wanted to be closer to you, he wanted the rush in his veins when he was around you. It was different from the Avengers compound. There, he wasn’t alone with you. The team was there.

But here…here, he had you to himself.

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