Damon stood outside your house annoyed. He had been uninvited by you after having another one of your stupid fights. “Very mature Y/N” he yells through the door. “Screw you” you shout back. Damon folded his arms “I’m not leaving, until you invite me in” he said. “Well I’m not letting you in” you shouted. “Well then I guess I’m not leaving” he smirked.
Request for leohasha :
Thor:,,So… Who’s gonna kick the jerk from the top?“
Steve:,,Well , it must be someone who’s smaller than us..”
[Y/N]:,,Why are you looking at me? I don’t want to be thrown into the air!“
Thor & Steve:,,But we are a team [Y/N]!”
*this was just something i had in my drafts its short but i really wanted to finish it. anyway so if you had requested something recently, once i finished the last four of my drafts ill start doing the request in my inbox*
warning; riding, oral, fingering
request; (just a small treat)
request
masterlist
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If you call pedophilia a kink please unfollow me and never talk to me again
REBLOG this to prove you are not a Muggle.
my reblog button fucked up and i almost had a heart attack
I did it in the first try.
OH YEAH
for @detektywpikachu who asked for steter plus stiles gets a haircut from peter
–
The first time it happens it’s a case of a necessary evil. Not even a “cut a lock of hair for a spell” scenario though. Oh no. It’s more of a “cut all the hair off before the gunk sinks into Stiles’ skin and melts his brain” kind of situation.
Either way, Stiles doesn’t give a fuck about how or who or what with. He’d do it himself if he had eyes on the back of his head to make sure he doesn’t miss a spot.
He rocked a buzzcut for years and although he’ll miss the “artful bed-head” - as his dad started to call it, - it’s a small price to pay for his continued ability to live.
So he glares at where Lydia and Erica are fighting over the scissors and comb, then ends their squabbling with one sentence.
“Peter,” he calls, addressing the man who’s been observing the situation from his usual perch on the stairs,“ will you do the honors?”
Peter smiles at him, pleased and triumphant in the face of Lydia’s and Erica’s protests, and follows Stiles to the bathroom.
Somehow, when Peter’s done, and Stiles’ hair is cropped short again he looks better than he ever did sporting a buzzcut.
–
The next time it happens Stiles’ life isn’t under threat any more than on any other regular old Tuesday and it’s Peter who offers.
Granted, the main reason for it could be the fact that Stiles sprained his right wrist in a fight two weeks ago and his hair was getting out of hand.
He could go to a barber. He had every intention to do it, too. But.
He’s sprawled on Peter’s couch in the man’s apartment, taking advantage of Peter’s Disney+ subscription. They are friends, these days, and binge-watching the Mandalorian and hanging out is one of the things they do.
And so is snuggling, which they both attribute to Peter’s pack instincts while ignoring the elephant in the room that is the thing growing between them.
As it is, Stiles must have shoved his hair one time too many into Peter’s face because Stiles finds himself being playfully pushed away by the application of hand to face until he finds himself half sprawled in Peter’s lap.
Before Stiles can question the sudden change in position, all done in a way that somehow avoided him landing on his injured writs, Peter tugs at his hair gently.
“I’m sorry to say this, sweetheart, but this birdnest on your head you call hair needs to be trimmed down into something more suitable for your pretty face.” Before Stiles could protest, squawk, or even agree, Peter continued, “I can do it for you right now, if you want?”
Which is how Stiles finds himself in Peter’s bathroom, perched on one of the stools from Peter’s kitchen, the brush of the comb and snipping of scissors making for the ambiance.
It’s… strangely intimate, more intimate than hugging or cuddling somehow and Stiles can’t explain why.
He’s been nose to chest with Peter before, they’ve been friends for years now, packmates. They train, they roughhouse, they sprawl over each other as they watched TV the same way Stiles does with Scott, Derek, Kira, Boyd and everyone else. Though he and Jackson don’t snuggle. Ever. There’s no proof.
But here and now, with Peter standing between Stiles’ legs as he cuts the hair at the front of Stiles’ head, his movements sure and precise because it’s just another thing he’s ridiculously good at–
There’s tension building up, and Stiles can’t be sure if Peter feels it too, how strange, how edge-teetering it is for them, suspended in limbo as they are between friendship and more and how to bridge the gap.
But maybe Peter feels it just as keenly in the silence that has befallen. Maybe he knows just as well as Stiles does that this could be the moment because he doesn’t protest when Stiles’ hands settle on his hips, holding him, squeezing gently. He doesn’t admonish Stiles to be careful when Stiles lifts his head to look at Peter, the scissors and comb having already been put away so Peter’s hands are free to cradle Stiles jaw.
Peter’s smile is soft, barely-there and so much more real for it and somehow it’s the easiest thing in the world for Stiles to tip his head a little higher and meet Peter halfway.
–
“Did you plan it?”
“I hoped.”
–
pls reblog
Summary: In which you come home and remind Bucky who he is.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 2,081
A/N: Inspired by Know Who You Are from the Moana soundtrack. This was supposed to be a drabble, but apparently I’m no good at the whole short and sweet thing.
@avengerstories - you’ll forever be my editing hero
If a man tortured by his nightmares is crying and no one is around to hear him, does he actually make a sound?
For months, the answer to that question was no.
No one knew about the way Bucky thrashed around like a madman in his sleep. They had no clue that the blankets that covered him became a cage that he couldn’t escape every night. They didn’t realize that his mind was exactly the same.
They didn’t know that he woke up with tears in his eyes that he didn’t remember shedding. They failed to hear him shout for the help that wasn’t coming. They were unaware that the first thing he did when he woke up was jump out of bed and search his surroundings, looking for the evil monster that lurked in his dreams. They were never there to watch the light leave his azure eyes when he looked in the mirror and realized that the monster he was running from was himself.
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A man unwilling to fight for what he wants....., deserves what he gets.
So, Harry was back in your universe. But…Harry wasn’t from this timeline. Things had changed, thanks to Barry, and you worried about how this change affected your relationship with one Harrison Wells. Was there even a relationship with him in his timeline. Was he even your Harry?
Earth-2 Harrison Wells x Reader
Warnings: None
A/N: HOLY SHIT I’M ALIVE. Here, have a bit of post-flashpoint fluff~
~~
You stood in the speed lab with Harry as Jesse and Barry trained. You were well aware how quiet the room was apart from the speed force cracking in the background. Ever since Barry explained the situation with the different timelines and Harry returned, not affected by Flashpoint, you have begun to question everything.
The timeline you remembered, the timeline you knew, was a rocky beginning with Harry turning into a loving and secretly passionate romance. Though…was that still the case? This Harry didn’t remember working with you in the Speed Lab before. Hell, it was practically his first time in the speed lab, so it wasn’t the same Harry, was it? It wasn’t your Harry that you snuck a quick kiss in the hall with, was he?
Was he still your Harry?
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Dang it Peggy… #Hamilton #HamiltonTheMusical #schuylersisters #dangitpeggy