This post is for these three beautiful ladies right here: @the-celestial-kitsune @curlswithcreativity and @julzdec
Heyyy! You guys have been super patient for this post so I'd just like to thank all three of you before anything else.
Now, down to business lol.
Here is a list of 10 prompts. Each contestant will pick 2, first @the-celestial-kitsune (first to have submitted her fic) will pick her 2 prompts, then @curlswithcreativity (second to have submitted her fic) and finally @julzdec . Once prompts have been picked, they are taken which means you can’t pick them.
“All you do is whine.”
“You deserve a good man, someone who’ll love you unconditionally.”
“Why did you text me at 3 am on a Monday?”
“I don’t love you.”
“Stay.”
“What in god’s name did you do?”
“Come on! Let me see!”
“This was a stupid idea.”
“It’s nothing, it’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”
“If you die, I’ll kill you.”
Soooooo now that you guys have picked your prompts, here’s how this is going to go down.
You will each write a fic (has to be between 2 K and 7 K words) with your 2 chosen prompts about any of Dylan’s characters or Dylan. You can use reader insert or an original character, whatever you choose but the story can’t be told in “I”.
Smut, fluff or angst that’s fine but it can’t be a series (obviously lol).
ALSO
Your fics need more than two characters and at least two different locations in the story.
Everything else is completely up to you! Bring your A-game <333
You can post the fic on your blogs but you have to tag @mischiefandi (me lol) @redstringlovers and @itsbilescallmebiles (so basically all three judges)
Wether or not you post your fic, you have to send it to all three judges through our submit buttons on our blogs.
THE DEADLINE TO POST/SEND YOUR FIC IS THE 30TH OF SEPTEMBER
reminder that the 30th of September is also the deadline for all voting.
I am also sending you three a little guideline in your asks that you are only allowed to reveal once the fics have been posted/submitted or submitted.
Respect of the guidelines will be one of the elements on which we will be judging your work so be sure not to ignore them! (my apologies if this wasn’t English I have just spent the past two hours studying Latin lmao)
Good luck guys! All three of us judges cannot wait to read what you guys come up with!!! Happy writing <333
rules: go to your current work in progress and share the following :
first line of the work
first line of the current chapter
the last line you wrote
a line for a chapter/part you haven’t written yet
first line of the work:
“Listen, MJ, I swear. I was thiiiis close to meeting an Avenger.”
first line of the current chapter:
“You watched me struggle with the colouring for hours because the fire escape was casting weird shadows!! You could have just,” she mimed shooting webs from her hands, rather violently, “and I could have-! GRAH!”
the last line you wrote:
“That typo in Betty’s article was gold, and I will never, ever, let it go.”
a line for a chapter/part you haven’t written yet
She screamed in triumph, punching the air in quick succession as she kicked her legs rapidly. “I KNEW IT. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”
I’m tagging @thetenthdoctorscompanion and @musiciatee if you want to do it!
Summary: You and Jackson share the morning after sleeping together
A/N: this is just barely T+ I would say. I mention a boob once
Grey’s Anatomy Masterlist | Complete Masterlist
The sheets were soft against your bare skin, the warmth of the body beside you holding back any potential chill. Despite this, you shivered. The lean, muscled arms wrapped around your waist pulled you tighter and you felt the heat of Jackson’s kiss against your shoulder.
“G’morning…” He murmured tiredly, the edge of sleepiness in his voice setting butterflies loose in your stomach. The kisses were trailing higher now, and you shuddered as his lips brushed against your neck. One of his hands moved to grip your arm, rubbing firmly along its length in an attempt to still your movements. “Are you cold?”
The mattress shifted slightly as you turned towards your companion, and you shook your head in the negative. In the early morning light, fresh from the holds of a deep night’s sleep, Jackson looked younger and so much more peaceful than he did once he stepped foot inside the hospital. There was a certain lightness in his eyes as he studied your naked form, the quilt that you had spent the night cuddled under having slipped down to reveal your chest in your attempt to readjust.
For a moment, you were embarrassed by his gaze. There was a raw adoration you weren’t used to, and it made you breathless as his fingers left your arm to drift along the exposed flesh of your hip before travelling up your back. Instinctively, you arched forward at his touch, a small sigh escaping your lips.
He smiled in a self-satisfied manner at your response, relishing in the feel of you against him and how you two fit together so perfectly.
“I’m glad you aren’t on call today.” You murmured, Jackson humming in agreement as your lips pressed against his stubbled jaw, his hands continuing their work. Your eyes shut blissfully as you focused on his touch, and the softness of the sheets against your bare legs.
It was only when the movement of his hands changed course and you suddenly felt him caressing your face that your eyes fluttered open. Jackson’s freckles were particularly stark against his skin, you thought as you studied him at this close proximity.
“Do we need to get out of bed today?” His question was tempting, and you mulled it over as he strategically placed kisses on your cheeks, before continuing down to your jaw, and then back up to your nose.
“What about food?”
A sly smile accompanied his answer, his voice muffled as he spoke against your skin. “We can order pizza. We’d only have to get up to grab it from the delivery guy.” You laughed responsively as his body shifted over yours, his lean and muscled arms planted on either side of your head as he gazed down at you.
Instinctively, you raised your knees on either side of his hips, and he lowered his mouth to yours to catch your bottom lip between his. The slightest brush of his teeth against your lips elicited a small sigh and you felt him smile at your reaction.
“It’s a good plan.” He crooned and you nodded in agreement. His lips were soft, and coupled with the rough touch of his callused fingertips, you would have agreed to anything he proposed.
It was a few moments before the warm fog of his contact cleared, and you pulled your lips from his, despite his protests. “What about the bathroom?”
He chuckled and gently kissed your forehead before fixing you with a look of faux-irritation. “Why do you have to be so logical?” When you responded with a tiny shrug and a lazy grin he rolled his eyes. “Fine. Bathroom breaks are allowed. But nothing else.” He saw your mouth open and he pinched you jokingly. “Other than food, Y/N, don’t be a smartass.”
You giggled and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, your feet crossing over at the small of his back. “I can’t help it.” You paused before continuing with a smirk. “What if I get bored?”
Jackson’s eyes flashed as one of his hands moved from the section of mattress near your head to slowly trace the curve of your side; he lingered on the soft flesh of your breast before his long fingers moved down to grip at your hip. You felt a flutter in your stomach as he took in your nudity, your breath catching as he spoke.
“I think I can keep you occupied.”
Please let me know if you want to be added to my tag list!!
A/N: I think this is the first Stiles piece I’ve written? I miss my freckly boi. I should have proofed this more but I’m out of energy!!! sorry!!! Thanks @musiciatee for the prompt
Teen Wolf Masterlist | Complete Masterlist
The warmth of the room was not helping your inability to stay awake; you found your attention drifting quickly, and you hoped that Lydia would lend you her notes for next period's class if you were nice enough. Try as you might, you found your head bobbing, and your eyes fluttering to half open slits as you listened to Coach Finstock drone on about scarcity, efficiency, and sovereignty.
The sharp whack of a small projectile caused your eyes to whip open as you sat up quickly, looking around for the source of the disruption. Your eyes landed on the messy haired, freckled boy sitting in the row across from you. You glowered. Stiles mimed yawning before acting out a comical snore and you found yourself holding back a smirk at his theatrics. He gestured wildly to the crumpled ball of a note he had thrown at you, and you picked it up daintily to study its contents.
Stop staying up until 4am watching that dumb doctor show.
Glancing back at up at him, he fixed you with a pointed, haughty look and you rolled your eyes.
Coach was facing the blackboard, and you used this opportunity to tear a narrow strip of paper from your notebook. You hastily scrawled your response, Stop going out and playing in the forest until 4am, before lobbing it in Stiles' direction. He caught it easily in his uplifted hand, opening it under his desk while you studied him. He chuckled and scribbled down his retort.
I'm not the one who can't keep their eyes open, Y/N.
You crumpled the small piece of paper and tossed it into your bag as Coach turned around to study the class for an answer. When his back was to you once more, you sent over your reply to Stiles.
Bold of you to assume that's not because of Finstock's lesson. Stiles snorted loudly and quickly covered his face as Coach whipped around, studying the young man with contempt.
"Something funny, Bilinski?"
Stiles straightened in his chair, wiggling his pencil between his fingers as he pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, Coach. I was just suddenly struck by the fact that my generation will be in charge of the economy one day and you're probably going to have a huge impact on us future stock investors."
Coach shuddered as he processed what had been said. "That is a truly terrifying thought. But keep it to yourself next time. People smarter than you are trying to learn, here."
You snickered and tried to pass it off as a small cough as Stiles sunk back into his seat raising his eyebrows and giving you a triumphant grin at his deflection. Following your close call, the two of you remained uncharacteristically silent until the bell rang to release you a few short minutes later. You shoved your books into your bag quickly in an attempt to escape the crowdedness of the hallways on your way to grab a coffee, but you slowed when you heard Stiles calling after you. He was fumbling with his textbooks, shoving them into his open backpack haphazardly as he tried to catch up to you.
He knocked into a desk in his hurry, groaning and clutching at his thigh as he limped out the door. "Ow. Damn, why do you always have to move so fast?"
You shook your head wearily, clutching your bag tightly to your side as the two of you headed towards the front entrance. "Stilinski, it's a damn miracle you're still alive." He grinned at the statement, pulling his bag higher on his shoulder as he matched his pace to yours. Your hustle had paid off; you were far ahead of the crowd by the time the masses finally left their classrooms.
"Clearly the higher powers at be realize it would be cruel to deny the world of such a gorgeous specimen of a human being." He mumbled absently as he rubbed at his growing bruise.
"Right..." You drawled as you searched for your purse for your keys. "Are you sure it's because not even the Devil can handle you?"
"I mean, it definitely could be that I'm too hot for hell, Y/N. Yes, thank you for bringing up such an insightful point." He was relentless. You had already made the short distance to your car, and you leaned against the frame for support as Stiles moved to the passenger side door without speaking. You raised an eyebrow quizzically and he paused, his long fingers grasping the handle. "What? Was I not invited?"
You shrugged, pulling open the door to the backseat to throw your bag in. "I honestly don't think you would listen if I said you weren't allowed to come with me. I accepted that a long time ago." He pondered your words, raising his shoulders and nodding in agreement as he slid into the car. He was already tinkering with your seats and the air conditioning when you closed your door behind you.
"I think you take my presence for granted, Y/N/N.” He mused. “One day, you'll be all like, "Hey, where's that anxious young man, Stiles, who I love so much?" And I'll be off somewhere, surrounded by models who have come to love and appreciate my intricate and complex levels of humour and intelligence so much so that they decided to create a town in my honour. How will you feel then, huh?"
He was staring at you so intently, you were losing the thread of whether he was joking or not. You searched his eyes, finding nothing but deep pits of amber instead of answers. You shoved the keys into the ignition after clipping on your seat belt, promptly ignoring his question. "Is Scott busy? Why aren’t you harassing him?"
The freckled young man sighed, and shoved his backpack down between his feet, rolling his eyes when you reached across his chest to pull out the seat belt he had been struggling with. "He's playing hooky with Allison, but that's not the point. The point is that I'm a joy to be around, and you need to stop and smell the roses." Stiles quickly began fiddling with your radio, letting out a small huff of protest when you slapped his fingers away.
"Come on, you know the driver picks the music." Stiles groaned dramatically as he played with the window controls, the front and back windows rising and lowering, much to your annoyance.
"The rule only applies if the driver has good taste."
You gasped in contempt, your fingers sliding over the volume knob to increase the sound in an act of defiance. "I'm sorry you're uncultured? What's wrong with Leon Bridges and Nat King Cole?"
"You don't want me to answer that."
By this point in your relationship, you were surprised your eyeballs were still in your head, and that you hadn't somehow developed a rare muscle strain as a result of the constant eye rolling you seemed to partake in in Stiles' company. "You are, by far, the biggest baby I have ever met. And stop messing with my windows."
He pouted indignantly and crossed his arms, his leg bouncing wildly as you continued down the empty road to the nearest coffee chain. "Then entertain me. Or let me drive…you're slower than my dad."
"Stiles, I am a safe driver. And the speed limit is 35. I'm doing 40."
"No one actually drives that close to the limit." He scoffed as you slowed down for a stray pedestrian. "You drive like you're making a mad break from the nursing home. You're like, the opposite of Quicksilver or the Flash. You're so slow, a baby who hasn't learned how to walk yet could 100% beat you in a race."
Your lips lifted into a smile as you checked your blind spots before turning on your signals to switch lanes. "I'm fine with that, Mr. My-daddy-gets-me-out-of-parking-tickets."
If Stiles had intended to respond, he didn't get to. The deafening crunch of metal and the intense force of the speeding car that collided with yours pulled a loud gasp from your lips. Your body slammed back against the driver's seat, your breath caught in your chest at the suddenness of the impact. Time seemed funny to you. It would have been only a few seconds that had passed, but it had seemed so much longer than that.
Dazed, you turned to look at Stiles who was observing you with increasing distress. From your position, you could see how a speeding car would have missed this little road if they had turned off the main street; they wouldn't have had a lot of time to correct if they hadn't spotted the yield sign. Your friend’s hand grabbed your arm, and you drew your attention from your window and the smoke that was emanating from your hood outside.
"Are you okay?" You murmured, feeling oddly constrained in your position behind the wheel as Stiles' hands brushed over you with a gentle urgency. His face was pale, but he seemed fine to you until you noticed the redness on his hand. "Hey, what-.”
"Oh my god, Y/N, you're bleeding. Why are you bleeding?" His words didn't make a lot of sense; if you were bleeding, why was he the one with blood on his hands? You yelped when his fingers brushed over your thigh, and you realized that the pressure you were feeling was a result of your buckled door and the strip of metal that had sliced into your upper leg.
"Oh my god." You turned to look at the man who was standing outside of your window, peering in at you and Stiles who was frantically searching for his phone. Based on the fact that his car door was wide open, and his face was ashen, you assumed you were looking at the man who had hit you. Somehow, his bumper had only just been dented along with his cracked headlight. "Oh my god, is she okay?" He repeated speaking to Stiles who was glaring at him angrily, his phone pressed to his face.
"Dude, there's a yield sign for a reason!" Stiles spat out. "Hi, yes, I've just been in a car accident at LaCinta and Grove. We need an ambulance."
"I didn't think to..."
"Yeah, clearly!" The venom in Stiles voice was unlike you had ever heard before as he snapped at the man.
We should get out of the car, you thought mindlessly, as you sat there in shock. Cars always blow up in movies.
"It's not going to blow up," Stiles said quickly as he reached for your hand to reassure you. "Yeah, no, I'm still here, sorry. My friend just said something."
You groaned and Stiles turned to you quickly, worry drawing his eyebrows together. "My mom and dad are going to murder me." You mumbled as you watched the blood pooling in the grooves of your seats. You heard Stiles speaking frantically, before saying something along the lines of, "I don't know how deep it is, but there's a lot of blood."
Things were fuzzy after that.
When your fog began to clear, you felt much better. It took you a moment before realizing that you were no longer pressed up against the crushed driver's side door of your car but that you were now sitting in a hospital bed. Your thigh felt tender, but the sharp stabbing ache that had been present earlier was no more. A quick scan of the room revealed you were alone, but you recognized Stiles' backpack occupying the chair nearest to your bed and noted the bouquet of pink and yellow roses.
When you sighted him outside of your room, speaking anxiously with his father and your mom who you quickly recognized despite only seeing the back of her silhouette, you sighed with relief. Stiles noticed you were awake almost instantly, and you watched as he nudged the Sheriff before saying something to your mom who quickly whipped around and hurried through the door to your side.
"Oh baby girl, I'm so glad you're awake. Are you feeling okay? Can I get you something? How is your leg? Are you thirsty?" You withdrew slightly from her urgent coddling and looked at the Sheriff in a silent plea. He slipped an arm around your mom, who tried to shrug him off as she fussed over you.
"Y/M/N, remember the doctor said she would feel a little overwhelmed after she woke up."
With a start, your mom nodded, wiping absently at the stray tear that had fallen down her cheek without consent. "Right. Sorry." She continued her questioning in a more relaxed manner, and you did your best to keep up. Stiles hung back nervously as he watched the exchange, and you rolled your eyes in her direction as he gave you a weak smile
She patted the edge of the bed to check for an empty space before she sat down beside you. "Stiles told me what happened, and your dad is on his way back from Montreal... We're just so glad you're okay. We don't want you to worry about the car right now. Just focus on getting better."
You nodded, relieved. "Okay."
"You should be very grateful you have such good friends. Stiles was a superstar." Your friend itched shyly at the back of his neck, his face reddening slightly at the praise while his dad gave him a proud smile. Your mom looked as if she wanted to say something more, but she stopped, changing her train of thought. "Can I get you something to eat? I told them you wouldn't want to be woken up, but I can go grab you something."
"Can I just have some tea, please?" Your mom hummed and patted your arm before kissing your hair. You could see that she was happy to have something to do, and knew you would be getting a talk about your driving skills when you recovered.
"Yes, my sweet girl… I'll see if I can find some chicken noodle soup." With that she left the room, the Sheriff choosing to head out soon after.
"There's still some issues I have to deal with on our side," Stiles' father explained, his hands clutching comfortably at the sides of his jacket. "Based on what Stiles said and the fact that the man who hit you is currently having his stomach pumped, I might be here a while."
"Arrest him." Stiles sung, irritably from his position leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Sheriff Stilinski shot his son a look that resided somewhere between disdain and understanding, before leaving. "I'm serious!" Stiles shouted after his dad before muttering, "Drunk idiot." quietly to himself. When the two of you were alone, your friend edged closer to the side of your bed. He studied you with a strained look of concern as you winced; the metal bar of the bed frame had knocked against your wound in your attempt to move over to make room for him. You patted the space beside you, beckoning him forward.
Wordlessly, he sunk into the newly vacant spot beside you, his slender fingers intertwining with yours. You couldn’t remember the last time you had held hands like this, but felt it was probably back when you were in grade school. You sat in silence for a few moments, shoulder to shoulder, before he turned to you.
"I'm never getting in a car with you again, you know, right? My life is too precious."
You groaned and let out a small laugh despite everything, squeezing his hand tightly as you grumbled, "You aren't going to let me live this down are you."
Stiles clucked his tongue at you, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "I'm JUST saying that if you were driving faster, we would have completely missed that asshole getting to that intersection."
“Or if I had driven the speed limit instead of driving over, he would have blasted through that intersection ahead of us.” You countered as you gave his shoulder a bump. "Anyway, I'm still alive…I guess the Devil didn't want me either." His arm snaked around your shoulder and he pulled you gently towards him in a loving hug.
"Good. I'm not ready for you to die just yet." Your body relaxed against him, the lack of conversation that followed comforting; Stiles was one of the few people who you could spend hours with, talking or not, and still feel like your time was well spent. You were glad he was here with you now.
Your eyes felt heavy, but you opened them again when Stiles began to speak. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Y/N.”
“Thanks… Me too.”
He pointed towards the vase of flowers you had noticed earlier, “I got those for you. I thought if you were on bed rest you should actually spend some time stopping to smell the roses.”
You let out a small sigh and grinned happily. “That’s so cheesy…”
“Yeah, but you like it anyway.”
You studied the petals of the roses, and shrugged jokingly in an attempt to convey disinterest—but he was right, and you both knew it. You liked it a lot.
I'm not sorry I won't make myself smaller for you. I'm not sorry you asked for strength and beauty and wit and got someone who knew they possessed all those traits. I won't play shy to protect your ego.
I won't make myself smaller for you, so that you can fit me in your pocket, parading me around when it makes you look better. Look more confident. More intelligent, to have secured someone who knows what they want, how to get it, and to not settle for less.
I won't soften the same edges on myself that you're praised for simply because you feel threatened. Because the idea of someone who won't go quietly and would burn the city down just to spite you is too terrifying.
Prompt: What happens with Peter’s Spidey Senses when you take him to a theme park? Courtesy of @trewestriandta
A/N: So this could be good, but I just finished reading some of my old fics and I cringed so hard that I broke my processing unit.
I HATE ROLLERCOASTERS WITH A FIERY PASSION. Also shout-out to my local amusement park, Wonderland, you a real one. And fuck Canadian Geese they are Devil spawn ™
Marvel Masterlist | Complete Masterlist
__
“Come on, Peter, I want to go on the Leviathan.” From your position in the middle of the pavilion, you were steps away from the line for the most popular attraction at the park and you were desperate to finally go on. Children yelled as they raced past you to get to the next stop on their trip, and you felt your own excitement bubbling up as the entrance drew closer.
You yanked at the hand intertwined with yours but were met with a sturdy resistance; upon turning back to determine the hold up, you noticed Peter’s body was taut as he stared up at the frighteningly large roller coaster, his jaw clenched tightly as he grasped your hand. You studied your friend with curiosity. “Peter?”
“Nope. No way. Nuh uh.”
You groaned as you pulled at his arm harder. "Pete... Don't be a baby. You said you would go on it with me when we were on the bus over."
"That was before I saw it. There's no way that thing is safe..."
Peter had always been anxious, but following his encounter (as you had taken to calling it) it was almost impossible to do anything with him that didn't set off his Spidey Senses. In an attempt to vary your advancement methods, you moved behind your companion to place two hands firmly on his back and give him a hefty push. It was useless. He turned around to face you and shook his head tight-lipped as you glowered.
You eyed his feet wearily before hissing out, "Peter Benjamin Parker, if you are using your... your talents to prevent me from pushing you right now—" Suddenly, you stumbled forward as he took a step to the side. You may not have had superhero reflexes, but your instincts still worked well enough for you to catch yourself before you took a nasty spill. Peter ignored your irritation as he continued to shake his head, and tried to back away from the growing line.
"I have a bad feeling about this, Y/N. I'm serious. Why don't we just head back to the food court? We could grab some funnel cake... you love funnel cake! And then we could go on those tea cups again; that was awesome, right?" He was rambling in his endeavour to convince you, throwing ideas forward that he thought you would find more appealing than traveling several hundred feet into the air before being catapulted forward at almost 100 mph. But he would have no success.
"PETER." You shouted, stomping your foot despite yourself; you knew you were acting childishly and that irritated you, but the bus ride had been long and he had sworn up and down that he would ride with you-- you had been talking about this ride for months and you weren't going to turn back now that you'd paid the admission fee. “We. Are. Going.”
The young hero had known you long enough to know that there was no way for him to get out of this, and his groans followed you as you finally managed to drag him towards the attraction. Despite physically going along with your plans, he complained the whole way through the 45-minute line and all the way up to the point where you were finally secured in your seats.
"We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die. This is bad, this is really, really not good." Peter mumbled under his breath feverishly as the attendant shot him a concerned look; you waved the worker’s worries away as you raised your arms for him to check your seat belt was properly secured.
"He's fine. Just a little nervous." You explained as you gestured towards Peter, whose hands were now clutching tightly at his face as his ramblings continued. The attendant shrugged and continued his way down the platform to finish his checks before making his way back to the control panel. You twisted as much as you could given your restraints, sliding your fingers under Peter's hand and pulling them away from his cheeks to hold tightly in yours.
His eyes were full of concern as he focused on you, and you did your best to reassure him. "It's fine, Peter. I promise. It's going to be fine. It’s just a little anxiety! People get anxious for lots of reasons!" You spoke in dulcet tones, as if soothing a frightened baby bird. You could tell he didn't quite believe you, but he humoured you nonetheless, nodding as the ride jolted to a start. His breath hitched and he clutched your fingers forcefully as you turned forward to sit properly in your spot.
*
Things went as well as they could for a rollercoaster, and you were in your element. You loved the sudden drops and lurches, excited screams being pulled from your lips as you rounded tight corners and swooped into tunnels. Peter let out several yelps but remained a fair bit calmer than you had expected him to.
On the second to last descent, however, there was a terrible screech of metal against metal amongst your screams. Suddenly, you stopped; the car was suspended, what felt like quite precariously, on the tracks with your body parallel to the ground. The passengers on the ride exchanged worried gasps and frightened looks as they waited for an explanation as to why they were currently frozen at a 90-degree angle while strapped to a metal train several hundred feet in the air. Peter’s response was almost instantaneous.
"WHAT DID I SAY, Y/N, WHAT DID I SAY?!" Although the forces of gravity had pulled his hair down rather comically into his eyes, you bit the inside of your cheek to maintain your serious façade as Peter screeched. “I TOLD YOU SOMETHING WAS GOING TO HAPPEN!”
His rant was cut short by the overhead speaker crackling on, a chipper voice speaking in a stark contrast to Peter’s frustration.
"Sorry, folks! We had it radioed in that a little ol’ family of geese has managed to get past the protective fence around the ride and make it onto the track! We've got people coming right now to get the little guys out of the way, and we should have you continuing on in just a few seconds. Again, sorry for the inconvenience!”
You hung there for a few moments in silence, trying to avoid the angry glares of your seatmate. “Just go on the ride, you said! It’ll be FINE, you said!” Peter’s voice was strained, the weight of his body being pushed against the seatbelt and safety bar.
It was 20 minutes before the ride’s tracks began to move again, this time at an agonizingly slow crawl; he turned to you slowly, his expression a mix of contempt and triumph. Rolling your eyes, you shrugged with a painful sigh. “Okay. You were right.”
Peter smirked as the ride began to increase in speed and opened his mouth to reply just as a large bug sailed into it. His eyes flew open wide as he choked, and the surprised laugh you let out seemed to startle him further. He swallowed roughly with a throat-clearing cough, his face red and eyes watering while he looked at you in shock. That sent you overboard; you laughed maniacally for the rest of the ride as you made a much slower journey back to the loading station. When it finally came time to exit the car, you couldn’t move, your laugh-driven tears were so all consuming.
“I’m never listening to you again.” Peter grumbled as he unclicked his seat belt angrily, hopping over your seated form and onto the platform to glare at you while you attempted to control yourself long enough to get back onto solid ground.
“Are you sure your Spidey Senses weren’t cluing you in to the free meal? I would ask if you wanted to go for funnel cake now, but you’re probably full, aren’t you?” You giggled, struggling to release yourself from the metal car. It was stuck for some reason, and you yanked at the metal casing all the while maintaining your shit-eating grin.
“I hate you. I’m going to leave you here.”
It then dawned on you why you were having such a difficult time getting out of your car. “PETER. YOU DID NOT WEB MY SEATBELT SHUT.”
The young man shrugged and stuck his tongue out at you, turning on his heels as he made his way off the platform. “You’ll figure it out!” He shouted back to you as you grumbled in your seat.
___
Please let me know if you want to be added to my tag list, and please let me know what you think! Comments are always appreciated (and fawned over).
@thetenthdoctorscompanion @inkstainedfanfics @everyday-imfangirling @galaxies-behind-my-eyes @kkiyomizu @greysanatomyimaginesworld @twilightparker (you didn’t ask but I thought you might like it)
A/N: lol yeah, I did just take the excerpt I sent you and expand it
#9: “Nexttime you’re hung-over, I’m not going to hold your head out of the toilet. I’mgonna let you drown.”
“You know what I like, Stiles? Day-drinking.” You slurred,the cup clasped tightly in your hand as you wiggled in your spot. His slenderfingers reached for it and you yanked it away, the boozy liquid spilling overthe side and onto the floor. You glared at him for the waste. “Hey.”
“Alll right, Y/N, that’s enough for now. This has been goingon for hours.” He was grabbing towards you again and you yelped, turning yourback towards him.
“I’m an adult. I decided when it’s enough!” Throwing backthe remainder of your drink, you let out a small hiccup as Stiles groaned. Hewatched incredulously as you dropped the empty cup onto the table, the redplastic bouncing and falling to the floor.
“Really? Did you really just do that?”
You gave him a drunken shrug, finding it difficult to remainsteady as you wandered over to the fridge. “Do you have any more beer?” Youasked as he hurried over to you. Stiles ran his hand through his hair, hisanxiety clearly increasing as he watched you rummaging for more alcohol.
“Oh…my god. Y/N. Would you just—.” You waved him awayshifting bottles of condiments and old pizza boxes out of the way in yoursearch. “Look, okay, I get it. You bombed your psych exam, but this isn’t—youreally should not drink that.” He said, breaking from his sentence midway towarn you of the action you were about to carry out. “Annndd you’re doing it anyway. Alright.That’s fine. This is fine.”
Your face screwed up at the taste of the bitter liquid, thefridge door slamming shut without your body to prop it open. Stiles eyed youwarily as you hopped up onto the counter, clutching your now empty beer canlike a toddler’s sippy cup. He tried to console you again; he placed his handson your knees, partially to secure you and to prevent you from finding morealcohol… but mainly as an attempt to comfort you.
“Look, Tusano’s not that bad of a guy, and I did really wellin his course. If you want, we can go in on Monday and—Y/N?” It had hit yousuddenly, and you found yourself struggling off the counter while shovingStiles away in your urgent escape to the bathroom.
The remainder of your day was spent with a very caringStiles holding your hair back as you emptied the contents of your stomach intohis toilet bowl. To his credit, hehandled it in silence, spending several hours diligently bringing you water,Advil, and other various items you had requested.
“Can you bring me some ginger ale, please?” He agreed to thesimple request, slipping out from beside you on the bed and heading towards thedoor when your voice stopped him.
“And some saltines?” Stiles nodded, his hand on the door.“Also, do you have another pair of socks I can borrow? And that Star Warshoodie?”
He sighed, rolling his eyes as he padded bare-foot down thedarkened hall. “Nexttime you’re hung-over, I’m not going to hold your head out of the toilet. I’mgonna let you drown.” Stiles mumbled under his breath before going in search ofyour “necessities”.
Prompt: “Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night”
A/N: I am an actual pest when I am sleep deprived, so enjoy this. Thank you @musiciatee, you are an angel
Marvel Masterlist | Complete Masterlist
You were starting to suspect that the coffee you had grabbed after your final lecture had not been decaf after all, as you had so adamantly requested in an attempt to avoid this very situation.
From your position on your bed with your feet pressed up against your wall, you were able to read the large “3:30 AM” on your alarm clock. So much for a good nights sleep, you thought with a sigh as you wiggled agitatedly. Without moving from your position, your hand searched the folds of your covers before it finally found your phone. With a habitual ease, you scrolled through your most recent contacts until you landed on Peter’s name.
There was a good chance he would be up, and that made you feel less guilty about what you were about to do. Your fingers moved quickly across the miniature keyboard as you typed.
Sent 3:31am
Can Vision be used as a Bluetooth speaker? Like, morally… but also physically can he?
read 3:34am
Sent 3:32am
If dogs wore pants would they wear them on their back legs only, or would they wear them across all four legs? I feel like the back legs would be more practical, but across all legs would look way cooler.
read 3:34am
Sent 3:33am
Does Cap smell like freedom and burning campfires, or is that a myth? He seems like he would give really good hugs. Maybe not as good as Thor but, you know, pretty close.
read 3:34am
3:33am
When you shoot your webs
DRAFT
You were halfway through texting your fourth message when your phone began to vibrate in your hand, a photo of Peter pulling a ridiculous face popping up on your screen. You answered it with mild surprise. “Hello?”
His voice was groggy, and it quickly became clear that he had not in fact been awake. “Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night.”
“But I can’t sleep.” You whined, rolling onto your stomach as you grabbed a stray pillow off your floor. “I need to be entertained.”
“Y/N,” he groaned into the phone. “It’s almost 4am, why are you making me suffer like this?”
“Because you’re my best friend. Also, it’s your fault for not putting your phone on Do Not Disturb before you went to bed. Now answer the questions, I really want to know about Vision.”
“My eyes don’t work, I’m blind. I can’t see.” You rolled your eyes at his mumbled response as you heard his bed creak, his breathing slowing into a steady rhythm. He was no doubt seconds from falling asleep again, and this simply would not do.
“Hey. Hey, Peter. Remember when you kept me up until 6am the day before my sociology final because you said we couldn’t stop watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy in the middle of the second movie? And when you missed my 18th birthday because you were in Portugal fighting some Martian? And how about when-”
There was an audible sigh on the other end of the phone, followed by a loud creak and shuffle. In the grand scheme of things, he knew the scale was tilted heavily in your favour and you would not relent until you had made your point clear. There was only one way he could begin to balance the scales. “Fine – I’m sitting up now. What was your question again?”
You smirked as you shifted in your bed, moving from the far end so that you could slip under your blankets. “Does Vision have Bluetooth capabilities? Like, could you be in the middle of a fight and just blast ‘Eye of the Tiger’ for the cinematic mastery of it?”
Despite his tiredness, Peter’s unbridled laughter came through your phone’s speaker clearly. “Where would it even come from? Do you think he would just open his mouth like Stitch so that he could project it?”
You grinned, clutching the phone to your ear as you settled back down into your pillows. “That’s kind of what I pictured, yeah.”
“I don’t know, honestly. I’ll ask him… Or Karen. That would probably be a better option, so I’ll get back to you. What else?”
You paused to prioritize your questions before responding. “What does Steve Rogers smell like?”
He scoffed. “Y/N. I don’t go around smelling my fellow Avengers.”
“Peter.”
“…Fine… It’s kind of like… Apples? But like masculine, if that makes sense?”
“Masculine apples?” You giggled at his statement. It seemed a lot funnier in the middle of the night. “What even—like an apple with abs? An apple with a beard, oh my god, I can’t breathe.”
“Hey, I’m answering your questions, don’t make fun of me.”
“Okay.” You breathed shallowly as you attempted to control your laughter, your lack of sleep and caffeine high making it difficult. “Sorry… I’m good now. Who gives better hugs, Thor or Steve?”
His answer was instantaneous. “Oh, Thor, hands down. They’re great. He’s probably the best hugger out of all of them.”
“I knew it…” You muttered. “Also, I love how you didn’t have to think about that. Uhm… Dogs wearing pants? How would they do it?”
“Like how would the dogs wear pants?
“Yeah.”
“I guess across their back two legs. Actually, no, definitely across their back legs. This one time, when we were in Calgary, there was this lady walking her dog and it was wearing snow pants and they were across its back legs.”
“What about its front legs?” You asked curiously. “Wouldn’t they get cold?”
You could almost feel his smile through the phone as he remembered more details from the event. “It had a coat on and boots, so it was completely covered.”
“Shut up, it did not.”
“I’m serious! I would have taken a picture for you but I was hanging from a fire escape so my hands were kind of occupied. I’ll ask Karen if she still has the footage, though.”
“You know me so well.” You mused, imagining the sheer perfection of the footage you would later receive.
His voice snapped you from your reverie. “Anything else?”
“I didn’t get to send it before you called me, but when you shoot your webs, do you get knockback? Like is it like shooting a rifle but from your hands?”
There was a moments’ pause as he considered your question before he replied. “I mean… it’s pretty minimal, but yeah. There’s a bit of kickback.”
You nodded as you processed the information, satisfied with the answers you had been given. “Okay. I believe those were all acceptable responses... I release you from your duties. You can go back to sleep now.” Your final statement was broken up by a yawn, and you were pleased with the thought that you might finally get to go to sleep.
His chuckle made you smile as a small yawn came across the phone, mirroring yours. “Thank you, your majesty. By the way, I totally stand by that Lord of the Rings choice. You would have messed up the flow of the story.”
You snorted as you pulled your covers up to your chin, the familiar weight of sleep becoming more pressing. “That’s a discussion for another time, Pete. I love you, thanks for being my best friend.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love you too. Night.”
When the call ended, you grinned to yourself in the darkness, and muttered, “Masculine apples…” in your amusement as you drifted off to sleep.
