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[imaginesmai]

Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson

Enemies to lovers, forced-marriage and based on the Disney movie The Swan princess. Here is what is probably the work I’m proudest of. Things you need to know before reading:

- As a medieval fic, there will be typical misoginist behaviours, racisims at some points and stereotypes. 

- In this fic, Ubbe is from Mercia, not a viking, but a prince. His whole family is ruling that country, while yours rules over Wessex.

- Ivan doesn’t exist. I had to erase a brother for the plot I’M SORRY.

- It hasn’t been proof-read. So, if you find any mistake, please let me know!

Ubbe Ragnarson knew three things: that he would inherit the throne when his father died, that he should get married soon to assure that throne, and that he hated Y/N Ealhmunding. And those three facts were related. Because your hand had been promised to him since you were young kids, and now it’s time to fulfill that promise.

As princess of king Ecbert Ealhmunding, you also knew three things: that the laws for a kingdom ruler weren’t fair, that your father had done everything he could for you and your future, and that you hated Ubbe Ragnarson. Not only you hated that they had decided your future without you, or that you were expected to leave every braincell behind once you married, but also that the same boy who you had hated since childhood would be your husband.

Every summer, Mercia and Wessex try to make you both fall in love. And they fail.

But this summer is different, because a series of tragic and unfortunate events brings you closer to Ubbe than ever.

You’re no longer mischievous kids pulling pranks on each other, but responsible adults looking for what’s best for your country. And trying to survive in the meantime.

Preface:  Ubbe and you meet for the first time, foreshadowing what your relationship is going to be like.

1st part:  Just like any other summer, you have to leave your country. Just like any other summer, Ubbe has to open his to your annoying presence.

2nd part:  your sixteenth-first encounter goes as good as planned.

3rd part:  Aslaug tries to push you closer to Ubbe, leaving you in a vulnerable situation. When faced with a group of soldiers, they don't hesitate to make their opinion about you crystal clear.

4rd part:  The soldiers’ attitude forces your father to make a decision, and you finally see an end to your engagement. Only that, when presented with the chance, you’re not so sure.

5th part:  No longer under the pressure of an arranged marriage and with the hunting raid around the corner, you can almost taste your freedom. But something new awakens and neither Ubbe and you know how to deal with it.

6th part:  The morning of the hunting raid arrives, and new feelings are revealed.

7th part:  Ubbe and you take important decisions, about your future and the future of your kingdoms, not knowing that something bigger than you is happening outside the castle’s walls.

8th part:  tragedy strikes when you least expect it.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[leetotters]

I saw your recommendations for tom holland and I lobed them. Can you do Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans. Also does cheerleading fic have a part 2😅

yes omg i'm listing blogs i really like! and yeah i'm currently writing it:)

chris and sebastian recs:

@iguessweallcrazyithinktho @sinner-as-saint @sebbystanimagines @imaginesmaimasterlists @parkersharthook @wxntersoldiers @revengingbarnes @whiskey-cokenfanfic @cloudystevie @uprootbasic @honeysucklesteve @speechlessxx @holylulusworld @worksby-d @chris-evans-imagine @chris-whore @lahyene @smediumsmeatbae @nsfwsebbie @agentofbarnes @chloecatina421 @punani @harrylovex @farfromtommy @angrythingstarlight @twoghostsfromeden

[imaginesmai]

heyy, thank you for answering the request!💜sending it again: I want to request a quarantine angst imagine with tom, something like the reader is alone in her apartment, while Tom is staying in his with the boys, so she is calling him constantly because she feels lonely and the boys start teasing, so he starts to treat reader differently and someday when he thinks the call is over he says she’s clingy or something, reader hear what he said, feel awfully and stops talking to him

This doesn’t come late, this comes completely out of time. I needed a time out of Tumblr, because I didn’t enjoy writing anymore. Hope you enjoy this! I changed it a bit since we’re not longer in complete lockdown, but it has the same basic plot! 

Oceans between us

You waited patiently as Tom finished his conversation with Harry, who had just appeared through the corner of your call and had taken your boyfriend’s attention away. It was an important conversation, you could understand so much, because Tom had muted himself while they talked so you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were okay with it, really, because you understood that in his line of work he had to keep some stuff hidden until the movies came out. And you had had your fair share of early spoilers from him to accept it.

The problem was that minutes were tickling, and now there was another person in the room – a boy you hadn’t met before, that was laughing behind Tom. It seemed that, whatever they were talking about, was funny.

“Tom?” you tried again in a small voice, not feeling like continuing the call anymore. You looked at the time above the screen – ten minutes since he muted himself.

Either he had turned off the sound, or he ignored you.

In a burst of irritation, you left the couch and went over to the kitchen, your dog following you close. He sniffed your legs and sat while you took a glass of water and leaned against the sink – if he wanted to talk to you again, you could hear it from there. Manchee, the adorable puppy you had gotten a year ago, seemed to catch that there was something wrong with his owner, so he rubbed his nose against your bare leg.

“It’s fine. We talked this morning, it’s not like I haven’t seen him for days” you smiled at him, trying to get yourself to believe your words. “Besides, he has every right to be busy too. Not his fault that I’m stuck”

But it wasn’t your fault, either. One of your classmates in college had tested positive in covid almost a month ago. Your class had been sent home the next day, and you had been quarantined for 15 days – but the quarantine passed, and the classes remained online because the situation in your country got worse, which meant you could only go out grocery shopping, go the doctor in case of need or to work if you were a essential worked. Since the two last situations weren’t given, you were stuck in your small, rented apartment, going out only once a day to take your dog for a short walk.

The first days were hard, and now it had only gotten worse. You were bored out of your mind, tired and sick of being inside. You cried more often than not, and since your family didn’t have the technology to facetime you, the only person you saw beside your reflection in the mirror was your boyfriend. Tom, who was away in another country filming and busy, and who lately seemed to ignore you more often than not.

As expected, because it wasn’t the first time you had to do so, you ended the call, watching a last minute of an empty camera because Tom had left his phone in the room as he went somewhere else.

“We could restart Vampire Diaries”

A bark.

“Watch Mamma Mia? A classic, never grows old”

Another back, this time louder.

“Not a huge fan of me dancing, fine. I respect that – I don’t share it, but alright. Baking?”

More dog noises.

“Of course, you’re up to anything that involves food. When this ends, I’m getting you on a diet. I promise” you said, and you swore Manchee made a protesting noise. “What was that? The greatest showman? You have the best ideas, Manch”

Manchee ran out of the room as you searched for the movie on Netflix, and you didn’t hear him again. As you watched the movie, you kept looking at your phone, hoping to see a message for him and imagining what would it feel like if he called you back. You didn’t want to be a possessive girlfriend, but it hurt when he wasn’t there now that you needed him the most. Rubbing the suspicious wet feeling on your eyes, you put the phone face down and tried to enjoy the movie, even if it was the third time you watched it in a month.

-

As expected, he didn’t call you. You held your pride together and spent the next day giving him radio silence – no calls, no messages, nothing. You took Manchee for a walk, who found a squirrel in the park and made you run behind him. You bought the essentials in the supermarket, that was empty, and went back to an apartment that wasn’t your home. As expected, Manchee ate half of your food when you went to the bathroom, and jumped into the shower when you were it. It seemed that he knew you were having a bad day, so he even cuddled in your lap when you sat down to do some college work.

Wednesday came and left, without talking to Tom. By then, your pride held some deep wounds because Tom hadn’t talked to you again. You had received two messages, a good morning and night, and if he noticed you hadn’t answered, he didn’t care. It was almost night time when you decided to call him. After the second try, you were met with the ceiling of an unknown room and voices you didn’t know.

“ – again. What is she? Three?” someone laughed, but you couldn’t see anything. “My nephew is more independent, and she hasn’t started school yet!”

“Dude, I remember a chick I went on a date with” another deep voice said, and you understood Tom had picked up your call without meaning too. Still thinking what to say, the new person kept talking. “She sent me a message right after I left her in her house. And when I didn’t reply, she called me in the morning. I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but I need space!”

“She’s not usually like this, I swear” Tom chuckled, and you smiled just from hearing his voice. Again, you didn’t have time to say anything because he kept talking. “She’s just… we’ve been away for a while, and Y/N’s country is in lockdown, so she’s bored”

Oh

“That doesn’t give you the right to call you every second of the day, dude! Last week she called you three times. And yesterday you were on the phone with her for a whole hour” the first boy said. You didn’t bother cleaning the gathering tears on your eyes. “She’s way too dependent”

“She’s big clingy, that’s all. We live in different countries, so it’s hard for us. And, I mean, if she – “

“Dude”

You let the phone fall on the couch and you moved out of the camera, barely in time to cover your mouth and cover the sob breaking free. Probably, you were exaggerating, but you felt as if the world was crashing down. Everything was blurry and you breath was stuck in your throat, and you wanted so desperately to dig a hole and die there. Yes, you were clingy. And yes, you called Tom three times a day. But you were alone, away from home and in an awful pandemic situation that could bring anyone down. Before you could move to end the call, the person who had interrupted Tom talked again.

“The phone – you’re on a call”

There was silence, so wide and deep that you could hear a pin drop. And now they could hear the muffled sounds of someone crying. You saw the camera moving from where you were sitting, and you went to hang up before anyone could see that you had heard the conversation – because if there was something worse than getting stepped on, is to know that people have watched it too. T

Tom’s face came into view, wide eyes and open mouth. He looked pale, shocked, and you had barely time to hear the begging of your name before you hang up. The phone rang again, twice. Two facetimes, three calls. Tom kept calling, messaging you, and you lost track of how many times he called you, until you finally turned off the phone.

Manchee came back to the couch, licking the tears out of your face and whining when your body racked with sobs. He looked surprised when the phone went crashing against the wall, but didn’t go after it. Instead, he squeezed himself in the couch beside you, and you cried your hear out.

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[imaginesmai]

Arvin Russell - The preacher’s sins (1/2)

Requested by an anon, please enjoy it! It was too long, so I divided it in two parts. I’ll post the next one tomorrow!

Plot: there is nothing bigger for you than the love you feel for Arvin Russell. Not a lot of people can awaken what he does in you, with his cheeky smile and chocolate eyes. Now, a stranger threatens to break that bond, manipulating where it hurts the most.

Warnings: It’s the devil all the time, and you know the preacher. So if you’re reading this, it’s because you’re alright with what’s about to happen. Anyway, violence and manipulation.

Arvin’s car was waiting for you when your shift at the café ended. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face when you thought about the upcoming events; a whole weekend just for the two of you, in your house since your parents were away in a business travel. That meant you could sleep in the same bed, have your own space and dream about finally moving in together. As you crossed the street jogging, your bag hanging from your left shoulder, you thought you could get used to it.

He was smoking, looking ahead and lost in his thoughts. Some wild strands of hair had fallen on his face, making him look a bit more childish that usually. Arvin Russell looked as handsome as ever, and for two whole days, would be handsome only for you.

“Arv” you announced your presence when you climbed in the seat beside him, rubbing your arms in an attempt to get ride of the rain’s coldness.

“Hey, pretty girl”

Arvin dropped his denim jacket over you, and while you put it on, he threw his cigarrete through the window’s car, moving his hand around to get ride of the smoke. Once he made sure you wouldn’t choke with it, he closed the car’s windows and looked at you with a half-smile.

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening” you giggled softly, enjoying that moment of excitement and peace.

“Hope ya haven’ changed your mind” Arvin quickly pressed his lips against your cheek, before starting the car. “How was work?”

As you started talking about a cute dog which owner had let you pet, Arvin drove you to your house. He managed to listen to the story, drive safely and sneak a hand so that he could hold yours.

During most of the weeks, it was hard to see him. He was busy with his family and his part times job, taking what he could to earn a little money. Lenora took a lot of his time too, because she often got picked up by the bullies at highschool and Arvin insisted in picking her up every day. Then, he went with her to the grave yard to visit his mother, and he stayed with her until she finished. Sometimes, he would sneak for a few minutes and come visit you in the café, ordering the cheapest thing in the menu and watching you for afar.

Neither of you had a lot of free time. Your family, humble and hard-working, was also very conservative, so even if they accepted your relationship with Arvin, they didn’t like when he stayed at night. His family didn’t have a lot of free space neither, and if they had they didn’t see with good eyes sleeping together before marriage.

That week hadn’t been different. You had been working every afternoon until the sun came down, and then drove back home. The only difference was that you had been stopping briefly at the church, to talk with the new preacher. You knew Arvin didn’t like him – which was why the mood darkened on the way to your house.

“He ain’t good, Y/N” he grumbled, briefly looking at you.

“You don’t know him, it’s just – he’s new here, he needs a chance to prove himself” you defended. “I know what he did to your grandma was wrong, but we can’t judge him by one mistake!”

“It wasn’ just one mistake. He talks and talks ‘bout how everyone is a sinner but ‘im” Arvin protested.

“Arvin, please” you shifted closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. “It’ll be just a few minutes. He told me he needed my help with something, you don’t even have to see him.”

The preacher, indeed, had told you the previous day that he wanted to meet you in the church on Friday. You hadn’t told him your plans with Arvin, even if he was kind of interrupting your peaceful weekend with your boyfriend; probably, because you knew he wouldn’t approve you spending the night with him.

Deep inside, you knew that Arvin was probably right; he always was at the end, no matter what he was talking about. He was the one who said that the boy who Lenora’s was after wasn’t a good man, and now he had fun chasing her with a bag and awful words. There was something about the preacher that you didn’t like either, but you still didn’t know what. For now, you wanted to be on his good side.

“So? Can we stop?”

“I’d feel better if not” Arvin scoffed. “But I guess that’s a yes”

Arvin stopped on the graveyard, an empty place where the sun was setting already. It was dark and silent, and even you, who wanted to stop, were starting to reconsider the decision. You looked out the window, seeing that the church’s door was open and a dim light could be seen from the inside. Arvin exited the car without another word, and you knew he was pissed. He wasn’t too keen on sharing his feelings, even more when they weren’t of love or happiness.

You had been dating for seven months officially, and it had been ten since he asked you for a date after your shift at the café. There was no way you could make him talk about it and comfort him before the sun disappeared completely, so you decided to ignore him and walk towards the church. Still, before entering you looked back, half expecting him to be ready to leave and pick you later. But he had lighted up another smoke and was leaning against the car, looking to his feet.

Much less happier than before, you entered the church. You wanted nothing more than Arvin to be happy, and if you were up to wish anything, for him to have a better relationship with the rest of Knockemstiff; starting with the preacher.

He was sitting in the first row, reading from a small book. The faint lights you had seen came from the candles, which made the place much more scarier than usually. You didn’t think anything about it, not even when you made yourself heard by calling him and he told you to close the door. It was a cold, October day, so you guessed there was nothing wrong with it. After looking at Arvin once more, and receiving no smiles, you closed the door behind you.

“What did you want me for, preacher?”

“Come sit with me, Y/N” he patted the bench beside him, and you approached him. “You ever read the bible?”

“Um, a little. Lenora reads to me sometimes, a-and from what I hear on Sundays” you explained, not really wanting to say it out loud.

The truth was that you had never learned how to read. You had had to drop out of highschool at a young age because your mother had fallen ill, and your father couldn’t manage the family business on his own. With no money to buy books or material, your father had you help in on the shop. You were good with numbers, from years of experience, and you were starting to know what some words were written like thanks to Lenora and Arvin. But not a lot of people in Knockemstiff knew that you didn’t write the orders down in the café because you didn’t know how.

The preacher hummed, finally raising his eyes from the small book on his lap. He shifted closer to you, until you were sure you could hear his heartbeat. He showed you what he had been so focused on, and while you knew some of the letters, it all looked like garbage.

“This is my favourite part” he said, his voice soft but with a sharp edge. “Mom used to read it to me every night, too. You know it?”

“U-um, yeah” you said. Quickly, you tried to search for a word that you could understand. Lenora always read to you a passage of the bible when you went to their house, and maybe you could know what was it about. However, the preacher closed the bible before you had time to find it.

“God is merciful and benevolent, Y/N” he stretched one arm behind your shoulders, and you felt tears run to your eyes when you understood he knew it. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of – Arvin had managed to convince you it wasn’t, but you felt embarrassment crawl through your spine. “He forgives us all, all of our sins. But you know what is what he doesn’t forgive? Lies”

The back of your hair was grabbed with so much force that you emitted a low cry. If the door had been open, maybe Arvin would have heard you. But he angrily pacing around the graveyard, thinking about how he shouldn’t be so hard with you, and you were too afraid and embarrassed to scream any louder.

You were met with the preacher’s hard eyes, hateful and unforgivable. The back of your head throbbed from how hard he was gripping it, and finally a lonely tear made its way down your cheek. It seemed to offend him more, because he squeezed harder.

“You think you’re worthy of stepping into this temple?” he hissed, his hot breath making you shudder. “You think I wouldn’t find out that you can’t read? Or that you spend the nights with that boyfriend of yours?”

“Preacher –“

“Shut the fuck up!”

The nice man who you had been talking to the rest of the week disappeared in thin air, and you were thrown to the ground with a force you didn’t know the kind preacher had. A small cry of pain left your lips as your right wrist bent awkwardly against the edge of the bench, and you tried to move away. But the preacher had other ideas, because he hoisted you up until his face was inches away from you again.

You were sure he would just bash your head against the bench and Arvin would only have your cold body for the weekend when his face morphed, and that calm that always surrounded him was back. He sat on the bench again, and put his head against his hands, as if he was in deep thinking. Before you could think about running out of there screaming Arvin’s name, the preacher talked.

“Get naked”

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[imaginesmai]

Sebastian Stan - We’re a team

Mixing two requests, @squishybebe​ about an interviewer being rude to the reader (I know you said flirtry, but this is what came out, I’m sorry!) and an anon about his son interrupting a meeting. I hope you all like it!

Plot: no interview is boring since having your adorable four year old son, who needs his father as much as he needs him.

To say that Sebastian was bored was an understatement. It had reached a point where he had just resigned himself with looking at the guy in front of him and nodding a little when required.

The questions were too predictable; how did it feel to be playing one of the characters in something as big as the MCU, how was it to work with great actors like Evans or Downey, and how had it been his work out routine that had gotten him fit for the films. The interview wasn’t anymore about his new film, Endings Begging, but more about gossip. Even if he didn’t talk much, the guy was answering himself as he did the question.

“And did you have to cut on any type of specific food, like burgers and other stuff?” he asked and didn’t stop to let him answer. “Because I’ve seen your TV spot about ‘cheat day’ and you seemed pretty eager – you actually ate it after it cut off?”

Sebastian gave him a tight smile, as the guy started talking again about the obesity in the united states. He had caught the camera guy dozing off a few times, and his manager was no where to be seen anymore. From all the interviews he had done, that was without any doubt the most boring.

And the worst thing wasn’t that he was stuck there with his tight jeans, it was that he had brough you and Luca to the plato in hopes of finishing soon and giving you a tour around. Your little boy had just turned four and everything with lights and colours was amazing to him; as long as he didn’t have to stay in the same place for more than a few minutes. He got angsty and started crying, and he already felt bad enough when the clock reached the hour in there.

“Would you say you’re a role model for little kids?” the interviewer attacked again. “With your violent characters and –”

He was cut off by a thud, and everyone’s attention went to the clear glass door, including Sebastian’s, his heart quite literally rocketing out of his chest when he saw who was outside the door. Before he could even react, Luca was jumping up and grabbing the handle, the door effectively swinging open so fast that it could have broken if he wasn’t a little kid.

“Daddy!” Luca screeched, his face red and tear-streaked.  “Daddy!”

You appeared behind him the next second, looking around wildly until you found your kid. He was way too fast for you to catch, and Sebastian watched as his four-year-old kid rounded all the tech equipment and ran into a woman’s legs. She stumbled and glared at him with such fire that Sebastian felt felt anxious, but Luca didn’t seem fazed, as he rushed over his dad with his arms raised.

It was then when he noticed the what the problem was, sympathy forming in his chest as Luca slammed into his legs. You were apologising softly to the people he had ran over as you jogged towards the pair.

“I – I had an accident!” Luca sobbed with such a despair that Sebastian felt his heart ache.

The whole team were all looking at him with their eyebrows raised, the interviewer going as far as scoffing and trying to look around for someone to fix it. You landed on your knees beside them and, even if Luca had ran from where you were playing with him, the little boy reached a hand for you to take.

It had been a month since the last incident, and Luca felt really proud of it. No more wetting the bed at night when he had to sleep alone and no more staining his favourite trousers when you took to long to go home. He reminded you every day that he was already a big boy, and that soon he would be wearing a cool suit like daddy when he goes to the ‘flashy place’.

Luca sobbed even harder when Sebastian rubbed a comforting hand against his back.

“Um, can someone – take care of this?” the interviewer chuckled, looking directly at you. “We were working here, and you’re kind in the middle of something.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m sorry” you blushed in embarrassment, trying to pry Luca from Sebastian. The boy had an iron grip on his father. “It’s just – he ran out of the room, I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold him.”

“Yeah, well, you should. You can’t let him run off like that, he’s going to become a brat” the interviewer talked, missing how Sebastian was sending him glares with his eyes. “What kind of mother can’t hold his son?”

“Why don’t you keep your opinions to yourself?” Sebastian scoffed. “Come one, we’ll get you cleaned up, yes?”

His voice was softer when he talked with Luca. He placed his hands under Luca’s armpits and hoisted him into his lap, not caring about the expensive sweater he had chosen for the interview. Wiping the tears away from his son’s face, he pressed his lips against your cheek and assured you that it was fine. He watched Luca’s index and middle finger disappear into his mouth. Usually, he would tell him off, but even he felt anxious with so many people looking at them.

The guy got up too when Sebastian neared the door, wide eyes and gripping his notebook. He gestured to the camera to stop recording for a second and ran towards you.

“Why are you leaving? We aren’t over” he said as Sebastian looked back to him. The interviewer took a few steps back when he noticed the angry scowl on the actor’s face. He looked between you and him, hesitant. “She can – she can take care of… him. You know, let the man of the house work. You can’t… leave.”

He attempted to joke with Sebastian, chuckling, but he wasn’t having any of it. Instead of laughing and handing you Luca, he secured his grip on him and gestured you to open the door.

“I can and I will, actually” he answered as he bounced Luca up and down. “What you can do is never talk about my wife like that again, she’s as much as a parent as me, and she doesn’t need to take care of anything so that I can work. If you ever do it again, you can have a chat with my layer next, who will be very happy to hear from you”

Leaving the man open-mouthed, you left the recording room behind Sebastian closing the door behind you. You hadn’t looked up from the ground, only to check periodically on Luca, who was calming down now that he had his daddy with him. Still, there was a small proud smile on your face.

“Daddy?”

“Yes bubba?” Sebastian replied, looking back to check that the door was closed.

“Mad?”

Sebastian smiled softly as he stepped into the hallway, reaching with the hand that wasn’t holding Luca to yours. He gave it a soft squeezed, answering to your unsaid question and Luca’s one at the same time.

“Nah, it was being too boring without you. I’m always up for any of you if you need me”

Luca hid his face on Sebastian’s neck as you made your way to the spare room where you had been playing with Luca. The floor was covered in books, stuffed animals, and a few dolls that he had been playing with, mixing them in some childish fantasy about a castle and a lost prince. You didn’t say anything as you entered the room and let Luca on the floor. Bringing your travel bag, with spare clothes, you cleaned Luca in the small bathroom and changed his clothes between the two of you, putting the stained ones in a plastic bag.

You didn’t say anything as Luca talked the silence away with his ramblings about what his daddy had missed in the hour he had been away. He showed him the drawing he had done and Sebastian told him that he could go and play for a while.

Luca skipped away as you leaned against the sink.

“I’m sorry for letting him run away” you started, quite embarrassed that your four-year-old had crashed Sebastian’s interview. “When I realized what had happened it was too late, and he was already calling out for you.

“No, that’s – I don’t want you to apologize draga mea” Sebastian frowned. “I’m the one who has to apologize, I should have cut the interview sooner”

“You don’t have to cut any interview for us” you smiled at him. “I should have had a better hold on him. Your work is important, Seb, and we can’t go crashing –“

“No, my work isn’t important” he interrupted you, and with a long stride he was in front of you. “You’re important, cause you’re my family. And it’s fine if you interrupt an interview because Luca or you missed me, I can handle a few angry words from the team. But what I can’t handle is you thinking that it’s your duty taking care of everything, alright? We’re a team”

“Quite a team” you chuckled, looking down at the bag with the stained clothes.

“Yeah, but you’re my team, so that’s fine”

You didn’t say anything else and Sebastian leaned in for a kiss, in that small and shitty bathroom. Indeed, you made a good team.

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[imaginesmai]

Hvitserk Ragnarson - They don’t know about us

Requested by the lovely @cabe-sherlock​! Hope you like it, it was quite a challenge to write but I really liked it!

Plot: you know that Kattegat will never approve of your relationship with Hvitserk, not matter how hard you try. But you love him anyway.

Warnings: mentions to homophobic situations and Ubbe being quite ignorant about it - just at the begining -. I wrote this with a male!reader.

It wasn’t hard to find him if you thought about it for a while. Hvitserk Ragnarson was quite predictable, even more when he was angry, sad or moody – which, frankly, was quite often. You left behind the loud laughs and bright lights from the great all, choosing to ignore how the whispers seemed to follow you through the dark. Having exited the place right behind him, you saw his back disappearing into the dark night. He walked through the sand until he stopped at the edge of the cold sea, not minding that the bottom of his tunic was getting wet.

Your steps quickly carried you to his side, and you placed a comforting hand on his bicep. What you had heard in the great hall wasn’t easy to swallow – and it hurt even more when you thought about how you weren’t just two friends comforting each other. Without a word, you sat next to him and he leaned his head against your shoulder with a bone – deep sigh. Your hands remained locked.

“What I’m doing wrong?”

“Getting your tunic wet. And maybe drinking too much” you tried to lift his mood. “Apart from that, I don’t see anything wrong”

“Me neither. But they won’t – can’t see it, right? Never will”

You wished you could tell him that he was wrong, that eventually people will accept your relationship and move to another thing. That Margarethe will stop mocking him for not having sex with her, and choosing instead to lie with you in the cold nights. That his brothers will stop insulting him, and that the village people will stop looking down on him. As if he was trash and didn’t deserve to carry his last name, when the only wrong he did was to fall in love with his best friend.

That was what had caused the whole problem in the first place. You were used to sitting in the main table, besides Hvitserk, since you were friends from childhood. And for a few years now, you had been sharing something more than a friendship. It was a huge challenge for him to accept his sexuality, and for you to understand he wouldn’t seek anymore women’s attention. But now you were happy, and in love.

Margarethe had seen you getting a bit handsy, whispering into each other’s ears and holding hands under the desk. And pointing it out, she had gathered the whole hall attention. His brothers hadn’t stood up for him when someone had thrown a piece of rabbit at Hvitserk, and no one had followed him outside when things got nasty past you. Family was important for him, and you hurt for your prince.

“Sometimes I wonder if this is some type of punishments from the Gods” he wondered, and you knew better than to take offense for it. “If… if it’s because of my father, or my mother’s acts. Why can my brother fuck with his new bride in front of them, but I can’t hold your hand? Why is it so unfair?”

“Your brother might be able to do so, but I promise you that woman doesn’t love him half of what I love you, my prince”

“And I love you too, Y/N” he gave you a small smile, that quickly disappeared. “But I can’t help –“

“Hvitserk!”

You both turned around to see Ubbe jogging towards you. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to talk to him – it was that you didn’t want him to talk to Hvitserk. What Ubbe thought or did was a huge influence on him, as he was his big brother and had always followed his steps. While the man was way more open about your relationship than Ivar, who liked to make some remarks every now and then, Ubbe didn’t stand up for his brother.

You were ready to drag Hvitserk by his arm out of there and, if he let you, punch one or two teeth out of Ubbe. But he shook his head slightly, and waited until he was in front of you. Hvitserk didn’t make any intention of removing the arm around your torso and you didn’t let go of his hand, challenging Ubbe to say anything about it. The vikings coughed awkwardly and crossed his arms.

“Um – I’m sorry for… What happened inside, I –“

“You’re sorry for not stopping your wife?” you interrupted him. “Or for what she said?”

Another reason why you didn’t like Ubbe – because he was marrying Margarethe and he didn’t stop her homophobic words. It was true that he didn’t share them, at least not so extreme, but he was so ‘politically correct’ that he didn’t dare to say anything and start an argument. Who would have said he was the kind and she was just a servant.

“It’s just – you know, she was shocked Hvitserk” he tried to talk with his brother. “She saw you with… him, holding hands and, uh, being…”

“Ivar had his face between a thrall’s breast and she didn’t say anything” you talked again, Hvitserk too busy picking at the grass in the sand.

“Yeah, but – uh, you’re a man, Y/N. And Hvitserk is a prince. And it’s just strange seeing two men with each other. I’m not saying it’s wrong, just… weird”

Weird.

That was probably the word you hated the most. Why were you weird, for loving who you wanted? Ragnar had had two wives, and no one had seen anything weird about it. Ubbe had broken the chain of the royal weddings and had married a thrall, not a princess like his mother would have wanted. And Ivar loved hurting thralls and slaves to obtain pleasure going as far as taking a few of them in the bedroom to watch them hurt each other.

But the weird were you, because you wanted to walk hand in hand through Kattegat or kiss him in the lips without hiding between curtains. You wanted to compliment him without getting stares from the villagers. You didn’t think you were weird, but it seemed that everyone else did.

Hvitserk raised his head then, and you missed the familiar love he always had when he talked with his brother.

“I love him, Ubbe, and I’m not going to change it just because of what other people think” Hvitserk’s voice is cold as ice. “What’s wrong with us dating? Just because Kattegat can’t see past two men being together we have to hide now?”

“No, brother. I didn’t mean –“

“And you better watch your tongue, because you’re talking with my future husband here”

A few times, more than what you would like to admit, Hvitserk had left you loss at words. When he had taken the initiative and kissed you after training with Sigurd. After a really long day, when he had told you that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. And, of course, every time he smiled, winked or talked with you, but you were growing used to his charming personality. However, that night you couldn’t even breathe, as the only sound that could be heard were the waves against the shore.

Marriage was something you never talked about. All his brothers were thinking about it already, but it wasn’t a possibility for you. On your worst days, you even thought that he would end up with some chick while you stayed as his lovers, only appearing at night in his tent. Maybe, at best, his mother would go tired of you and kick you out of Kattegat. Of course that you had thought about him as your husband. You thought almost every morning, when you woke up to that sleepy face and cute dimples.

Your eyes got suddenly misty, and Hvitserk hugged you tighter.

“If that’s alright with him” the young prince gave you an anxious look. “Is it? You want to marry me?”

“There is nothing in the world I want more, Hvitserk Ragnarson” you chuckled wetly.

Not caring about his brother or the insults you had received in the great hall, you locked your lips together. It was such a sweet kiss that, if you had been up, you would have melted into a puddle. His calloused hand rested on your cheek, promising with a gesture what he could say. If it was with you, you would drag him right there and then to the altar, in front of whoever wanted to see. And if they didn’t want to, well, they better grow used to watch you enjoy your future husband through the streets of Kattegat.

Hvitserk laughed too, and you discovered that he had suspicious bright eyes. Ubbe didn’t say anything, surprisingly, and for a second you saw the loving brother your soon to be husband always bragged about.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll be happy with you” Ubbe smiled softly. “Welcome to the family officially, Y/N”

Maybe, you had left the great hall between hateful comments and pieces of food thrown at you. But you couldn’t think about a happier night in your life.

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[imaginesmai]

Alfie Solomons - Snowy Morning

I don’t know how long it has been since I wrote for him, but here is something!

Plot: Alfie wakes up to a snowy morning and a overexcited girlfriend.

At any given moment, Alfie was absolutely certain of two things. The first one was that he loved you with all his heart, and would do literally anything for you. The second was that the first one would be the death of him eventually.

He had been awakened at an ungodly hour that morning by a loud squeal, and with a cry of alarm he rolled to one side to reach for his gun. It was a reflex he didn’t figure he would ever outgrow, even if his enemies were resting in their caskets and he lived where no one could find him. Without opening his eyes, he had already taken off the safety and was sitting on the bed, the gun before him.

It didn’t surprise him anymore that you were the cause of the squeal, so when he opened his eyes, he let the gun on the bed besides him. You stood a few feet ahead, your face pressed against the window and still wearing your nightgown. Alfie let himself fall back on the bed and tried to get a few more minutes of sleep. You had a different idea.

“Alfie!” you called ou for him from your place. “Alfie, come here!”

“Can’t do, pet” he grumbled, dropping one arm to cover his eyes.

He could practically hear you folding your arms over your chest and pop your hip to the side, giving him that look that you always gave him when you thought he was being difficult. And even if he was know for being a grumpy man, he couldn’t help the soft, silly smile that appeared on his lips.

“Alfie…”

The man opened one eye and peeked at you between his fingers, the sight making his smile grow wider.

“Y/N…”

The side of the bed dipped down and suddenly there was a weight on his stomach. His arm was pried away with gentle hands and you pouted at him from where you were now straddling his abdomen. The light tan that you had gotten in the past summer was slowly disappearing, giving away your natural skin colour. You were still wearing a bed hair, with some lock standing in weird positions. And the way you were bulging out your cheeks only made your anger look less credible.

Alfie decided not to tell you how the position was making his back ache or how he needed to move, because he would never say anything like that to you. So he just chuckled and raised his arms until he could wrap one around your waist.

“All right, all right. I give in” he gave a light smack to your bottom. “What in the fuckin’ world is so exciting that you had to wake me before midday?”

It amazed him how easily he could stay in bed those days. Since he finally broke up with the business and decided to retire, his life had been much more calmer. And now, he could spend the mornings nuzzling you and enjoying life.

“It snowed!” your face lighted up like a lantern.

“And?” Alfie raised a brow.

“And I’ve never been out in the snow before!”

Sometimes, Alfie forgot in what circumstances you two met. Tom Shelby had nearly thrown you in his arms a few years ago, when he first met the man. After a huge argument with some Italian man, Tommy had taken his daughter with him and had killed him; his daughter, who had been locked up in a basement for years because of her father’s greed. Tom had just asked Alfie to watch you for a while, but your charming and innocent self had managed to make its way to his cold heart. Since then, there hadn’t been a day where Alfie had left you out of his sight, and enjoyed every opportunity of showing you something new.

No matter how much his back hurt.

“Need to have something to eat first, don’t we, pet?”

You leapt from your perch on his stomach with a nimbleness that always caught him off-guard – or maybe that was just the wind being knocked out of him as you launched yourself from the springboard of his diaphragm. Your nightgown spun around your ankles as you jumped up and down on your heels, the excitement barely contained.

“Or… we could have a winter picnic?” you proposed, a shy smile on your face. Alfie looked at you from where he had sat up on the bed.

“Picnic?”

Alfie thought that, even if it didn’t sound too normal, it didn’t sound bad. It had been years since he allowed himself to enjoy the snow, and he didn’t want to be the one to say no to you. To anyone looking from the outside, the idea would have seemed ridiculous. But Alfie just gave a loud, belly laugh and put on his worn out slippers, knowing he would have to change to the thick boots soon.

-

It had taken another fifteen minutes of debate before you actually ate your breakfast inside, as Alfie realized it was snowing, not just snowed. After the quickest breakfast of his life, Alfie had put on his winter coat and had insisted in covering you in thick scarfs. He wondered if he would ever miss the bakery and being busy all the time, or his life would just keep getting better day by day.

“You’re lucky you’re light” Alfie complained again.

His hands were cupped beneath your knees and your arms draped lightly around his collar. It wasn’t hard to be smaller than Alfie – while the man wasn’t certainly the tallest, his back was as broad as a trunk. The situation was that you didn’t have winter boots, and the five inches of snow accumulated on the backyard were no place for dress shoes. So he did what he always did and gave in when it was about you, and was currently carrying you around.

The sight in front of you was magnificent. You lived in a small cabin near the city, surrounded by trees and a large field that ended in a beach. In that moment, besides the white ground, there were falling cops on the trees, the sand was completely white and the water was calm. Your nose was red and cold, and you snuggled it in Alfie’s neck.

His skin rose with gossebumps and he shivered, although for you it was a faint movement under the thick cloth.

“Oi, you can’t do that. Get that bloody ice cube away from me”

“But I’m cold” you pressed your lips against the same spot, watching as he shivered again and didn’t complain. Something caught your attention and you almost threw yourself to the ground. “Look, Alfie! Look there!”

“Jesus, pet, don’t move so much” he groaned and adjusted his hands again. He looked towards where your hand was pointing.

“It’s a Christmas Rose!” you moved again. “Down there, in the snow”

Alfie finally noticed the little patch of pink-white flowers near the edge of the footpath. They were close to the small fountain that adorned the backyard, and if it hadn’t been so cold, he was sure Cyril would have already destroyed the vegetation. They were, indeed, beautiful. But to him, no where as beautiful as you.

“They’re hardy cold-weather plants” you explained, and rested your cheek on his shoulder. “I’d read about them, but I’ve never see one in real life. There’s a legend about them. It’s said that the very first – no, don’t pick it!”

You smacked Alfie across the head as soon as he bent a little with the intention of picking it. His hand stopped midway from where he had reached for it, his fingers already in the position to pluck it from the ground.

“I was going to pick it up for you” Alfie tried again but received another smack.

“Don’t pick it!” you repeated, and he finally straightened up “If you pick it, it’ll just die. I can see it fine from here”

Alfie rolled his eyes but resumed his walking around the backyard. You didn’t complain about the activity and he wasn’t going to get tired soon about having you sleepily resting on his shoulders. As he said, for him you weighted nearly nothing. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, covered in one of Alfie’s pants and with the thickest sockets he had found.

Every once in a while, one of you said something or you stretched your hand to catch some of the snowflakes with your fingers. Alfie told you some stories that involved winter, snow or cold, and you listened and asked when something interesting came up.

Since he had retired, that was his routine. He got to spend every second of his day with the most important person of his life. He left many things unattended, enemies that deserved their fair share of revenge and allies that could still benefit him. Maybe a cabin in the woods wasn’t what you expected when Alfie accepted to take care of you while Tommy took care of your father, neither spending your life with the grumpy man that said more swear words than actual words.

But he was careful around you, avoided swearing too much and made sure you had everything you could have dreamt of. And you didn’t need more than a quiet morning in the backyard of your house, white ground and thick coats. You kissed the side of Alfie’s face, his beard tickling you, and you smiled happy, knowing that the quiet snowy morning was the best you could wish for.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[imaginesmai]

Tom Holland - Our fairytale

Is this another disney-Tom fic? Yes it it. I’m masking my inactivity with another piece of fluff in Disney World. If you like this one, make sure to check  Lost kid and  True love kiss.  

Plot: that story where two characters of a movie fall in love, or in this case two actors portraying those characters fall in love, even if they don’t belong to the same fairy tale

or

Tom is prince Eric and you’re Belle, and he’s just a jealous bean.

“Mommy, mommy! It’s prince Eric!”

A little red haired girl, that was probably wearing a wig not that well put, pulled her mother’s hand behind her and gripped harder the drawings’ book she has been carrying around all day. Her objective had been clear since she had woken up that morning; to meet all the characters that appeared in her drawings and make them sign the pictures. She had too a purple princess dress with small seashells and a small purse that was all decoration.

Tom kneeled down just as the girl reached him. Her eyes looked as if they could burst out of their pockets, jumping up and down in the spot of excitement. The mother, a middle age woman that looked done with the whole park, gave Tom a side glance to check he was no depredator and took her phone with her free hand.

“Hi!” she screeched, loud even above all the noise of the park that day. “I’m Marleen!”

“Oh, what a beautiful name!” Tom said in a high-pitched voice. “And what a beautiful girl!”

“Thanks” she giggled and twisted her body around the mother’s hand. “This is not my real hair, my mommy bought it for me”

“Well, it’s really pretty” Tom smiled warmly. “Are you enjoying your day in the park?”

The question led to a monologue from the little girl about all the characters she had met so far, and a thoughtful look through her drawings. Her smile was easily contagious, and Tom didn’t mind staying 20 long minutes under the sun, crutched in front of that cute girl. He commented every drawing and even made up some stories about the characters in them. The mother kept herself to the phone, not listening to the conversation, and Tom felt himself traveling to a different world.

Every time a kid asked for him, he left the rest of his life aside and became Eric, the prince of the little mermaid that had a charming smile and lived with Ariel in a big palace. Tom had been working as that character for almost five months, and he never got tired. There were too many good things that came with it; the smiles, the excitement and the fantasy he got to live meanwhile.

He was in the middle of a story about Ursula when Marleen seemed to see something behind him, and before he got time to turn around, she had already recovered and emitted another loud screech.

“Belle!!”

Tom was suddenly pushed aside when Marleen rushed past him and attached herself to another person’s legs. He didn’t have to look up to know it was you who had stolen the attention of the girl, but he wasn’t at all afraid. Once more, the mother looked poorly interested in the situation, and went back to her previous business after checked who was her daughter talking to.

Again, Marleen presented herself and explained who she was dressed as. You looked as interested as Tom in the story, though Tom ignored it in favour of staring at you. You were wearing a beautiful pale yellow dress that fell down your legs, barely touching the ground. There was a flashy necklace on your chest and a pearly ring on your finger. You weren’t the princess that used more make-up, yet Tom thought the soft red lipstick and the barely there Rimmel was perfect.

“Can you sign my drawing too?” Marleen asked, already opening her book. She shoved it in front of you and turned to look at Tom. “My friends are going to be so envious! I’m gonna tell them I met Belle and prince Eric!”

“If you are quick, you can meet Cinderella in the main square” you said as you scribbled on the page. “I heard she has brought some special friends with her”

“Mommy did you hear that?!?”

Tom barely noticed her arms circling around his legs before she took off running again, her mother screaming behind her. He chuckled as the pair disappeared in the sea of the people. It was only mid-day, and if they were thinking about staying until close-up time, he doubted the mother would be able to keep up.

A soft hand made its way to his, sneaking as if it was a secret. And in part, it was; because prince Eric was supposed to be with Ariel, and you had strict orders about sticking to the characters until the end of the day. You rubbed your face against his blue jacket, half wishing you would be alone at the moment.

Finally, Tom intertwined your hands together and gave yours a small squeeze. Your break was close, and if you were lucky you could still find some spot in the shadow to hide from the torturous sun.

“I was watching you way before she noticed me, you know” you mumbled, pressing yourself even closer to him. “You’re so good with them, and you look so cute”

“I’m not cute, I’m carrying a sword and I’m a prince” Tom chuckled, not moving from his spot. “You’re amazing, too. And beautiful – god, I swear they might want to remake the film and change the ending, because I can’t take my eyes off you with that dress”

“Aren’t you a gentleman, my prince. Do you say that to every princess here?”

“Only you. And Cinderella, of course”

You smacked his arm playfully, and in return, you were met with his lips on you. If someone saw you, you would probably have a lot of problems with your boss. He was very, very strict on the no-dating policy, or at least not kissing in the park.

Instead of pushed him away, you put your other hand across his chest and started playing with the black buttons of the vest he was wearing. Both of you were sweaty and spending time of your break, that was already short. Yet Tom didn’t push you away either, just angled his head so that the kiss wasn’t that awkward. He resisted the urge to stretch himself on the tip toes because you were taller than him, wearing just a small heel.

You pulled back when oxygen became short, and Tom just leaned again to peck your lips, swallowing your giggled.

“What’s got you so clingy?” you managed to say between quick kisses. “Someone’s gonna see us”

“And they won’t care, they’ve have seen us before” Tom pressed his lips against you once more.

“No, really” you pushed him a little bit. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, everything good. Just missed you, darling”

“Since this morning?” you raised an eyebrow when you got the idea why Tom was that clingy. “Or since you learned that I have a show today?”

Tom scoffed for an answer and you knew you were right. You both had talked about it – that you had to kiss other people for the job, and even act romantic about them. While in a normal day you didn’t have to do much with your partner, every week a Disney movie would get a show in the main castle of the park, and that week was Beauty and the Beast. Dancing, singing, wearing costumes – and following the original story, that said that Belle and Beast kissed at the end of the show.

He wasn’t really angry, he never was. And neither was you when he had to swoop Ariel off her feet and kiss her while fireworks ran behind them. But you had your days where it was hard, and Tom had a hard time saying he was jealous of a man who wore the Beast costume.

“You can always fight him with that sword of yours” you smiled at the blush on his cheeks. “But it might turn out bad, since it’s made of plastic”

“Shut up” Tom croaked out, confidence gone. “I have every right to be jealous, you’re kissing him almost every day! And – he get to slow dance with you, and kiss you, and –“

“And you’re the one who goes back home with me when the show is over” you interrupted him before he got carried away. “We can slow dance in the living room, and we kiss all the time even if we can get in trouble for it. You don’t have to be jealous”

Tom didn’t say anything else, just looked away. He knew you were right, that he didn’t have any right to be jealous and that he was pushing it by kissing you in the park. But at the same time, his brain was having a hard time walking past the need of hugging you close and flipping it off in the distance to the guy who played the Beast.

“If you want to, after the show we can go out for dinner. Tomorrow is our free day” you wrapped yourself around Tom, noses touching again.

“As long as I get to pick you up from the dressing room”

“As long as you don’t glare too much at Michael and don’t flip him off again” you half joked, thinking about how in your last show Tom had been giving your partner the puppy, angry eyes the whole time.

“Then we’re getting pizza and we’re watching a movie” Tom finished, kissing you once more, quick, time. “And I’m choosing everything”

“You’re lucky I love you”

If Marleen, the little girl that had been talking to Tom, saw Belle and prince Eric kissing and holding hands, she didn’t say anything. She just watched with an excited smile how them both leaned for a kiss once more, truly believing that she was a princess and would find his own prince.

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[imaginesmai]

There was something about sleeping in the middle of nowhere, with a shitty tent that you had brought a month before, that was just beautiful. Sounds of nature filled the small space you were sharing with a girl you didn’t talk that much, and while she had fallen asleep as soon as she touched the sleeping bag, you found it difficult to disconnect from such a beautiful reality.

You had spent the whole day walking through the forest as a class bonding trip. Some of the boys had ran away from ants and other girls decided it was a good idea to open a bag of chips near a rabbits’ nest; that turned out to be not so nice. After a lot of activities and talks from the monitors, and a rudimentary dinner where the food was only half cooked, you had gone to sleep.

Everyone in the self-made camp had set up their tents and had disappeared, leaving only the nature sounds you were so blissfully enjoying. At least, you had thought they were nature sounds until the clipper of your tent went down and you felt your heart rise to your throat. You were laying with your back to the opening, and your partner was the closest to it.

As you were thinking if the bears Flash was talking about earlier were real and could open tents, the zipper reached its limit and you heard the familiar voice.

“Please tell me this is your tent, Y/N” Peter whispered behind you, his voice not as low as it should have been. “Y/N?”

If you had been asleep, you wouldn’t have heard him. But you turned around and gave Peter a smile, watching as his shoulders went down in relief. With an agility that wasn’t meant to be human, he stepped over your partner until he was on your side.

“Pete”

Peter was wearing what May had packed him for the night; the New-York trip tee Tony had bought him and some sweatpants and were too big for him. Earlier that day, he had bumped into a tree too hard and just besides his hair line you could spot the shadow of a bruise that was already healing. His hair was dishevelled, probably from the wind or just laying in his own sleeping bag. With the night light, Peter Parker looked gorgeous.

“Thank God I got the tent right” he scoffed, and, without asking, pushed you aside and took half of your sleeping space. “You can’t even imagine how disturbing Mr Harrington looks while sleeping”

“Did you wake him up?” you whispered back, barely stiffening a laugh.

“He stirred, but I don’t think he has seen me”

You sniffed at Peter, waiting to smell your favourite cologne but finding the disgusting smell of bugs spray on his clothes. You scrunched your nose and tried to get away from your boyfriend, not too far because there wasn’t any space left. Just then, you noticed too Peter’s flushed cheeks, red nose and swollen eyes. You cupped his cheek with your hand and he closed your eyes.

“Flash thought it was a good idea to kill all the bugs in our tent” Peter explained. “Ned tried to stop him, but Brad was in favour so we ended up showered in that disgusting thing”

“Does it kill spiders too?” you said, and Peter opened his eyes to glare at you. Still, it only gave away how swollen his eyes were.

“It’s not because of it” he lowered his voice volume. “It was just – too much. I couldn’t breathe and my eyes started stinging because there was literally a bug spray cloud in the tent. I couldn’t even see Ned!”

Some of the students had gotten bigger tents than other, which meant more people in a limited space. At the beginning, you had briefly considered sharing one with Peter; but you hadn’t been given the opportunity. He had trailed behind you during the day activities, and you had managed to do the yoga one together. But asides from that, you hadn’t been with Peter.

Instead of answering, you closed the space between your bodies and pressed your lips against his. You knew he wasn’t lying when you tasted something weird there, and when his sticky and wet arm rounded your body. It wasn’t a needy or fast kiss, just enjoying each other presence. Peter was reluctant to let go, and even if you tried to move back, he ended up in his position.

With his head resting on your shoulder and his nose brushing your neck. Shockingly, Peter’s was pretty light, so you were used to his leg falling on yours. It was silent for a few seconds, the noises Peter had swallowed coming back. There seemed to be some cricket besides your tent that emitted a soft noise every now and then.

“Besides the murder attempt, I came because I missed you” Peter mumbled sleepily against your skin. “Couldn’t sleep”

“Me neither” you carded your fingers through his hair, and he hummed happily.

When your tent-mate woke up in the morning, she would probably tell the teachers about Peter sleeping with you; or maybe, she wouldn’t, understanding it was none of her business. Whatever happened you weren’t going to kick him out, not when Peter’s breath evened and you understood the bug spray was only an excuse.

Sometimes, Spiderman needed to be taken care of too, and a few loving touches didn’t hurt him. You closed your eyes and let the nature noises, and Peter’s breathing, put you to sleep. The most beautiful sounds were they, indeed.

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@aikaterrina​​​​

@zalladane​​​

@gypsystuf​​​​ (since you didn’t answer me, I just put you on the general taglist. Let me know if you want to change!)

@nikkixostan​​​

@galaxystern08​

@justifymyfeelings​

[imaginesmai]

Five year old Peter Parker doubts his father’s love for him when a new kid in school says that he’s not really complete.

- “There is a new b-boy in class” Peter whispers, not looking up. “He s-said that… that… I-I’m not as smart as-s him”

“You’re really smart. I bet he doesn’t know how to take apart the TV remote and hide the batteries when he’s angry with his daddy”

The memory seems to trigger a small smile on his face, and he shifts on Tony’s lap. Tony still remembers the first time he gave Peter time out for throwing a tantrum, and in return, the boy took the batteries of all the remotes in the penthouse and hid them in different places. Probably, it had been a good reason to be angry at him, but Tony had found it too funny and ingenious to care.

-

Here is my first Irondad fic! I used AO3 since there are a lot of irondad fics in there, more than in tumblr. Besides, lately I’m not liking very much this website becuase they keep giving me problems when I want to upload something. I hope you like it, and if you want, you can send here your requests!

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[imaginesmai]

“You aren’t staying”

With a brief look towards the bed, where the sheets were falling to the ground, he sighed, and you could see the tension bunching in his bare shoulders. It was a stupid statement; he never stayed, yet you always reminded him. As if he could forget.

There was a cab waiting outside your door, someone that Chris knew from when he was a kid and trusted enough to keep it a secret. To not say anything about picking him up at four in the morning from the same house every Saturday, or about the smeared lipstick on his collarbone that he fixed while looking at the reflection of his phone.

It shouldn’t have hurt, because you had already made up your mind that with him it would always be like that. Yet it did, because he was going back to her.

“We’ve talked about this” he said, his voice slow and laced with alcohol. He was never sober, only those lucky times when they took a break and he spent the weekend with you.

“You could stay tonight” you clutched the sheets closer around you, as if they could protect your heart from breaking again. “She won’t come back until early in the morning, and we –“

“We agreed to this” he let out a snort, reaching down to grab his discarded jeans. “It was a mutual agreement; no feelings. You told me you could do this”

You couldn’t deny his words, because a nearly a year ago you had promised him you could. It was different, though; that was right after you met the soft guy in the bar who kept arguing with his girlfriend and always had a scowl on his face. Now, you knew the man behind him, who was addicted to pain just as much as you did.

Sex. No emotions. No intimate details. It was like that for a while. He wasn’t with her then, they were taking a break. You weren’t looking for a relationship, and he could capture someone’s attention with just blinking.

And it worked fine, the sex was mind blowing and you never had to worry about the awkward morning after. Then Chris stayed one night because he had to study a script, his girlfriend left for a month and you discovered your own particular heaven. You liked to think that it wasn’t your fault, and that it was just one faithful month what made you crash at a sickening speed. But as you watched the moonlight caressing his face, you knew it was just a pitiful lie. You would have fallen for him within seconds.

“You know she won’t be there when you go back” you blurted out. “We know what she’s doing at that business party. Just –“

“Don’t”

Chris stood up, pulling up his jeans and turning around. His handsome face was weary, like the weight of the words sat on those broad shoulders. His eyes were troubled, reminding you that no matter how much pain she caused, he would be back. You had heard him talk about her, and had wiped his tears when unknown dark spots appeared on her neck.

“Don’t make this more complicated, Y/N” he smiled sadly, eyes glazed. “We have fun, and that’s it”

“You spend more time in my bed than with her” you were bitter with the fact that you were as addicted to him as Chris to her. “Why do you always go back to her? She doesn’t treat you right! She’s –“

“Because I love her”

It was almost an automatic reaction, there was no passion in his face. The few times he said those words, the words fell flat, like sinking stones in a rushing rivers. It wasn’t true, at least not anymore. He wouldn’t have knocked on your door at one in the morning, still bottle of vodka on one hand, if he loved her. There was a time where he had loved her, when he spent weeks without calling you because guilt consumed him.

Now, it was just routine. They had been together for so long that he didn’t know how to live without her. You had tried to make him see past it, but some people get stuck in the past, with no way to bring them back.

The room became silent again, Chris just standing up and you trying to think of something else to say. You wanted to beg him to stay. To crawl out of bed, fall to your knees and plead with him to spend the night. But, how could you compete against a heart with a purpose?  Instead, you shifted and turned your back on him. Your eyes became wet behind your closed lids, the bed already feeling cold and too big.

You heard footsteps as Chris rounded the bed, and wooden floor creaking under his shoes. He pulled the duvet up and tucked it around your neck with gentle hands. You pushed the thoughts about her down and let yourself enjoy the brief seconds where you could pretend Chris was just tucking you in to crawl back into bed.

“Night, Y/N” he said into the cold silence that hung in the air. It was always ‘night’, never ‘morning’. You wished you could see him in sunlight, because he wasn’t meant for te wan light and inky blackness. He was meant for golden beams and the break of a new day across the awakening sky.

He was meant for something better, and you were selfish enough to think it was you. You expected to hear him leaving, but he leant down across you. Warm lips pressed themselves against your forehead, sweet and more than a little bit sad. They left quickly with a small, pained exhale, and you knew your night together was over. His heavy footfalls crossed the room pausing only briefly at the door.

One second, two seconds… and then he was gone.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated 

[imaginesmai]

In need of Arvin Russell requests, the angister the better!!!!! Take a look at my Arvin's fic in my sideblog, @imaginesmaimasterlists

[imaginesmai]

Transient global amnesia is a sudden, temporary episode of memory loss that can't be attributed to a more common neurological condition, such as epilepsy or stroke. During an episode of transient global amnesia, your recall of recent events simply vanishes, so you can't remember where you are or how you got there.

Peter Parker is only six year's old, enjoying a birthday party. But he doesn't remember why he's there anymore, or why his hand is all red and swollen. He just wants his dad, and Tony Stark wants his son to be alright. - “Oh, bud” Tony’s voice is soft and gentle. “Does it hurt too much? You’re being really brave, this is nothing dad can’t ...“

“Daddy, why are we in the park?” Peter asks again. As he had forgotten why his hand hurt, he had stopped crying; but now, Peter’s eyes became wet again. “Daddy – daddy w-why are we-e in the pa-park?” -

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

[imaginesmai]

New changes for the blog (2k requests)

Hi guys! I’m sorry for this two weeks vanishing, but I’m back! I won’t be too active yet because even though I finished my college degree, I still have to present it in front of a tribunal. But here are a few things I’m gonna do!

Masterlist: the thing with Tumblr, or at least for me since this is not my main blog, is that you can’t save a post in your computer and then edit it. I have to look through all my posts to find my Masterlist to add the new fics. I finally managed to save in my computer’s bookmarks a link to edit it, but sometimes it doesn’t work. So: I’ve created a blog just for my masterlists, called @imaginesmaimasterlist. I’ll post there masterlist of each fandom. I won’t erase the current masterlist, but that will only be updated every now and then (and not linked to my bio). Besides, I’ve changed the format for it to be more comfortable for everyone of us.

Reader: I’ve recieved a few requests that I can’t do, so I’m just gonna say this so you know. I only write about romantic relationship, which means I don’t write about daughters or sons. I don’t write about trans!reader, and here is the reason: I don’t know how. I tried once and I couldn’t, because that’s one of the most difficult type of readers. I’m so, so sorry to say this, but I prefer to do something good than to offend or hurt someone.

2k celebration: currently, I have 2.6k followers. Quarentine has been hard so honestly I haven’t had time to think about something - but now I have! If you look up in tumblr with the tag #imagineyourotp, you will find a group of funny situations that happen in a couple. I have already chosen a few that I’ll start with, but you can send me your requests using that tag. I don’t think you can send me pics in asks, so feel free to request messaging me. If you want to do it by anon, you can always describe the dialogue or situation you want in your fic. I’ll post something soon explaining it correctly, but you can start sending your requests.

Irondad: I think I said that before, but I’m going to expain this. I’ve become quite obssesed with the irondad fandom, and I’m reading a lot. I’ve created an instagram account where I upload people’s art about irondad (irondadiscanon is the username). Maybe, I’ll start something related with his fandom here, but I need your opinion. 

Instagram: related with the last point, here is the issue. I don’t really communicate well with Tumblr. If you comment on a post, I lose the comment between likes and reblogs, and then I feel so bad because half them are unanswered. Then again, when you message me I know sometimes I don’t answer... Besides, there is another issue: taglists fuck me up. They work whenever they want and that’s so, so annoying. So most of the time, when I publish something you don’t know. One solution is to turn on notifications on my blog, but I understand you don’t want a notification for all my posts (besides, that doesn’t show all my posts again because of wonderful Tumblr). Sending a message to all the people is impossible for me. So, I’ve thinking about using my instagram account to tell you when something is up. If you follow me, please send me a message there because I won’t do it until some of you follow me.

[imaginesmai]

My request is for IronDad & Spiderson. I LOVE Peter defending Tony from the Rogues. I know theres a few out there BUT most existing fics involve him telling them all off, or just Cap. What if it was one of the other Rogues he was defending Tony to? I was thinking maybe talking to Wanda about why her hatred is so misguided, or having a blunt chat with his fellow Spider about her actions. Or even Scott? Thanx in advance!

Hi! I tried to make your request as acurate as possible, but I’m quite new in writting for Irondad so I tried my best. You can find it by clicking in this link!

Don’t talk to me or my son ever again

Thanks for requesting, my inbox is always open! Don’t forget to check my other works in my backup account @imaginesmaimasterlists. Have a good day! ❤

[imaginesmai]

What is meant to be one of Peter's happiest days turns around when a stranger in his house breaks out an horrible truth that he wasn't supposed to know for another few years; that the tooth fairy isn't real. Thankfully, Tony isn't about to let Peter childhood to be ruined. - “You’re still bleeding” Tony points out, pressing the pad of his fingers against the corner of his mouth, where a trail of blood has formed. “Sure you haven’t taken it out?”

“No, it fell all by himself! I just touched it slightly with my spoon”

Tony can’t be mad at Peter, because he has managed to spend the whole weekend without touching the loose tooth. Probably, slightly touching means prodding it with the spoon until it fell, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moves his lip upwards and inspects the blood. It isn’t much, normal in a boy with a fallen tooth, yet Tony prefers to put something there and change his hulk tee, now stained. Getting up, he offers his hand to Peter who grabs it with both of his. -

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists​, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated