fingers to pocket

4

Everybody say my name! It’s my birthday!” 🎈🎈🍰🎇

Happy birthday, dear sunshine TEN! Our eternal beautiful smile, sweet lover, innocent baby, you’ve been blessing our eyes and hearts with your hardworking, spectacular performances and even during hard times your smile never faded! You are the best like always! The one who always helps the others before him, the one who always makes you smile, the one who always makes your heart flutter…once again, happy birthday precious baby!♥♥♥♥♥

No Strings (V)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Excessive drinking 

Word Count: 4,040

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

Originally posted by jiyoongis

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smile with me (you make me begin)

Originally posted by berry852

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Reader
Genre: Smut, Comedy, Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 30,587
Warnings: cursing/cussing, sexual content, exhibitionism, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, past bullying, past abusive relationship, mentions of drug usage, mentions of depression, anxiety attacks, self-harm

SUMMARY
First, there were hot tongues and meaningless moans, anger and grudges hidden behind sex. Then, there were laughter and inside jokes, fleeting kisses and warm gazes trapped in time.
Jungkook has never known love before, but if he has to define it, he’s sure that love is everything he feels for her.

AUTHOR’S NOTE
for the sake of the story, BTS’s ages are ambiguous. however, 95 line are still the same age, and jungkook/reader are the same age as well. jimin and taehyung will be in their third year of college, while jungkook and the reader in their first. hoseok and namjoon are also in their last year.
the reader/female character will always just be referred to as she/her/the girl. any other female character (the reader’s roommate) will be referred to using their name (or in this case, “her roommate”).
P.S. ALSO EXCUSE THE SMUT THX
P.P.S. if you’ve ever read the overwhelming light surrounding us, see if you can catch my little reference ;)
P.P.P.S. thanks @sydist for reading the whole thing and sorting out the plot with me, @thules for making sure the smut’s okay, and @trbld-writer for encouraging me to write this!


The winter air is colder today; Jungkook shoves his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. He quickly strides forward, breathing ragged as white mist dances before his lips; his camera slams against his chest as he breaks into a run.

He has always enjoyed winter. There’s something about the serenity of the season—a time littered with sprinkles of hope, joy, and laughter—that somehow always manages to warm his heart. His fondest memories are born during this time of year, images of a chocolate fondue, his smiling older brother, and giant Christmas presents tucked neatly into the corner of his mind.

His camera bounces as he halts abruptly, and he pushes through the doors of the coffee shop.

“Jungkookie! You’re back!”

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he’s not that man...

Because I need Emma to believe, in her heart, that Killian would never leave her…and I need her to fight to get him back.


There’s not enough vodka in the world to warm the ice running through her veins, but she’d gone along, let herself try to seek some comfort from her mother and Regina. It hadn’t worked. She knew it wouldn’t, but the walls of her big empty house were closing in on her with every breath she took and she’d just needed to get out. The bar had felt infinitely worse, full of concerned looks and shady bartenders, making her feel itchy in her own skin. 

She should have just come here sooner. With each step she’s taken closer to the water she’s felt her own intuition grow stronger, more sure that something just isn’t right. Snow had told her that the Jolly Roger was still here, but seeing it now, empty and quiet, the holes her vulnerability had ripped into her heart suddenly feel smaller. Not mended, but less penetrable. 

He wouldn’t leave. Not her. Not his ship. Not Storybrooke without saying a word. He loves her. He loves her so much that he was willing to rip out his own memories before hurting her, a misguided act to be sure, but brought out by the depth of a love defined as true. Not just by the Gods or whatever it is that deems love as true, but by the totality of everything that they have been through. They’ve fought for every moment they’ve had together and she knows he wouldn’t just walk away from this latest battle.

Something is wrong. So wrong that she wants to scream at herself for wasting an entire day thinking she’d been abandoned, letting herself fall back into a past life where the man she loves would hurt her with such a cowardly act. Killian is not that man. Not now, not ever. He makes mistakes, sure, but he would never abandon her. Immediately, she feels guilt surround her like a storm cloud, at her own thoughts, her own unwillingness to fight. 

Digging her fingers into her coat pocket she pulls out Liam’s ring by the chain it’s thread through, the red stone catching the light overhead as she rolls it between her gloved fingertips. That feeling she’d had at home when she found it, when she’d first realized Killian had left it behind, it hits her with a renewed force. He gave her that ring in hopes of saving her soul, believing it could somehow keep her safe from the darkness. He’d asked her to come back to him.

She’s going to use it now to bring him back home.

Regina picks up her call on the second ring, but Emma doesn’t event waste a second on niceties.

“Regina, we need to do a locator spell. Now. Meet me at the docks.” 

chapped lips

A/N: it definitely has not been 84 years since i last posted something other than a snippet… idk what time vortex you have been sucked into, but nope, it’s definitely only been a few hours since i last posted something. enjoy! the word count is 463 words so this is more of a drabble… 

 summary: you love watching peter take pictures, but it’s really cold outside.

 pairing: peter parker x reader


You were sitting on the bench, bored as could be. It was cold and damp outside and you were snuggled up in multiple layers, even wearing Peter’s beanie since you’d forgotten yours and your ears were turning red.

You watched him silently, still bored, as he took pictures of the scenery around the two of you. He was mostly focused on the people immersed in their activities and the river. You usually loved to watch him take pictures on his camera, but today you were tired and cranky and cold.

And your lips were getting dry.

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Dark Chocolate|1| M

Originally posted by gotjimin

Pairing: Jung Hoseok/Reader

Genre: Smut. Mild Fluff 

Words: 5,329

A/n: SO! This is my first ever smut and I feel a little weird about it. BUT! I think you may like it. This will have 3 parts with varying degrees of plot mixed in with the smut lol. Enjoy my little J-hoes! 

You smirked a little as you munched on your favorite treat, watching Hoseok pout at you while you sat on the counter. He ran his hands up your thighs, squeezing the soft muscle lightly and swiftly pulled them apart as you swallowed a gasp, smoothing out your expression as if this was nothing to you. He stepped in-between your legs, towering over you and put his hands on the counter on either side of you. He smiled like he knew you were only just pretending to be unfazed and licked his lips. His eyes stayed on your lips, only flicking them away to look longingly into your eyes.

“Baby, please?” He asked in an exaggeratedly cute voice. You held back your smile and shook your head. You took another bite and leaned away from him when he tried to take it from your fingers.

“Nope.” You said sweetly.

“I’ll make you come twice, tonight.” He bargained, leaning his forehead on yours and staring down at your lips as you bit them. You let your legs graze against his hip and you looked up at him with false innocence.

“Three times.” You countered in the same sweet voice as before.

“Deal.” He whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his tongue poking out to taste the chocolate that still clung to yours.

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Beautiful (Snowbaz AU)

A/N: featuring selectively mute!Simon and soft!Baz

- - Simon - -

I don’t think I’ve ever been in the library before, but I have no idea where Penny is and this is my last reasonable idea (the next one being that she’s gone for a swim in the lake, but seeing as it’s about 10 degrees out, this is my last hope).

I walk in and start to call for her before being angrily shushed by a grouchy looking lady behind the desk. “Oops,” I whisper – well, try to whisper, which Penny says is basically a normal talking voice for anyone else when I’m in ‘loud mode’ as she calls it– “sorry, but have you seen my friend Penny?” The lady just glares at me and puts her finger against her lip, so I shrug and decide to just wander the shelves and try and find her myself. Too loud, I mentally rebuke myself. I’m always either too loud or too quiet. The only time I’m okay is when I’m with Penny. She’s good at letting me know. ‘Too loud, Simon,’ she’ll say, or ‘I can’t hear you, love, a little louder?’ I’m also not as anxious around her, so my tongue doesn’t freeze up and feel like lead, not anymore at least. I don’t choke over my words with her.  I shove my fingers into my jean pockets, desperately trying to regain feeling in them and wander deeper into the library. It smells old, but not bad. Like maybe a bunch of posh ancient  vampires lived here. The shelves tower overhead and I could probably get lost if I’m not careful. I’d need a trail of breadcrumbs or something to ever find my way back to the grouchy lady and the front door, but Penny will help me once I find her.

I keep wandering and weaving, peering around shelves and quietly whisper-screaming Penny’s name. I am hushed countless times by people sprawled on overstuffed chairs with thick books and annoyed frowns. After about thirty minutes I’ve given up; even if Penny is somewhere in this maze I’ll never find her. Plus, all the books are distracting (I’ve never been much of a reader, but the pictures on the covers are fun to look at).

Then another thing – well, person – catches my eye. He could be a posh library vampire if he were paler. He has long, dark hair pulled up in a messy bun like it was done up in a rush. Large hipster glasses are sliding off of his narrow nose- which is currently buried in a book. The shadows from the soft yellow lights in the ceiling fall against his face, accenting his sharp cheekbones and firm jawline. I stare open-mouthed at this boy, blinking a few times to make sure he isn’t just a figment of my imagination.

The boy sighs and shifts and I quickly push myself back behind the shelves, knocking over a couple of books as I move. Shit, shit, shit, he probably heard that. I wait for a little while, listening for movement, but don’t hear anything. Maybe he didn’t hear it. I slowly move forward again, peering around the shelf. He’s still there, still reading. I drink in the sight of this absolutely beautiful boy. He coughs, startling me and I start to move back again- tripping over my shoelaces as I go. I fall to the floor with a loud bang, and land on my back. I turn my head and stare through the books, but the chairs on the other side are empty. The boy is gone. I sigh and turn my head back up to stare at the ceiling. Only-there’s a person in my way. Startling grey eyes meet mine and I swallow back a gulp. Wisps of his hair fall against his cheeks. He’s even more beautiful up close.

“Mind telling me why you were watching me?” His voice is deep, deeper than mine. And smooth. A light lilt following his words. I open my mouth to reply, and then shut it again and close my eyes. My verbal communication skills are shitty at best, and in front of a beautiful boy they’re bound to be horrible. I don’t want to ruin the moment (if this even is a moment).

A light thud to my left causes me to open them again and look over. His nose brushes mine from where he’s lying on the ground next to me and he smirks. “You’re staring again,” he whispers. I feel his breath against my face and smile a bit at him, blushing. He grins back and turns his head towards the ceiling. I stare a while longer before looking up as well. The ceiling is quite beautiful, with arches made of dark wood forming large frames for beautiful murals and paintings. We’re lying under a night sky, painted white stars shining down on us. He tilts his head towards me and points a long elegant finger up. “See those brighter stars? In the top corner?” he whispers, tracing them with his finger in the air. I nod. “That constellation is called Cassiopeia, named after a boastful Ethiopian queen in Greek mythology.”

I slowly turn my head away from the stars on the ceiling and back to him. To his bright eyes and small smile as he passionately explains the stories in the stars. He points out a couple of others before meeting my eyes again and pausing.

“I’m Baz.”

“Simon.” I whisper.

I watch him mouth my name, curving his lips around each letter as if treasuring and memorizing each one. Simon. “Well, Simon.” His voice is breathy and light, “what do you see in the stars?”

I look back up, glancing over at him continuously. He nods encouragingly. Hesitantly opening my mouth I wish to everything that words could tumble out but they catch in my throat. I press my lips together and close my eyes, trying to control my shaking hands. I almost wish that I had continued therapy, that it had worked so I could fucking talk to this beautiful boy. That my continuous panic attacks during behaviour therapy hadn’t finally made me give up. Deciding to instead learn sign language with Penny alongside me for rough situations anxiety-wise, where my words choked me and my mouth betrayed me.

“Hey, hey” he whispers, noticing my obvious distress. He reaches out and grabs my hand. “You’re okay, Simon” oh how he says my name. It rolls off his tongue easy and light. “You’re okay,” he repeats, “Do you wanna know what I see in the stars?” I clench my eyes together and nod trying to focus on my breathing. The last thing I want right now is a panic attack. Why couldn’t I have this? Just this. This beautiful boy with his smile and his whispers about the stars.

“Okay,” he continues and points again with his left hand, his other hand staying over mine. “Well if you connect those stars it looks kind of like a dog. I mean not really, but it’s called the Canis Major. Which basically means big dog. I suppose if you use your imagination you can see it. That’s what I love about constellations. You have to use your imagination, otherwise they’re just weird connect-the-dots that don’t look like anything at all.” He looks back at me and I squeeze his hand and smile at him, blinking slowly, trying to savor this wonderful moment. How did I end up on the floor staring at a painted sky with a beautiful boy who doesn’t care that I could barely get my name out. A beautiful boy who lights up when he’s talking about stars and who doesn’t seem to want to let go of my hand.

“Simon,” His breath caresses my face, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Would you like to go get coffee with me?”

“Yes,” I whisper back, my voice cracking slightly from unuse.

“Okay,” he says, “but first you have to answer one question.”

I nod eagerly.

He leans in, nose brushing mine. “Why were you watching me?”

I stare at his lips, not ready to look into his sharp grey eyes. “I- “ I pause, lick my lips, raise my eyes to his.

“You’re beautiful,” I breathe out.

He leans in closer, and his lips brush mine as he whispers back.

“You’re pretty cute too.”

remember // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles & Y/N find themselves in a train station, erased from their friend’s memories

Requested: no

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N 

Warning: no, mature language & themes throughou

 Masterlist

“Ryan, run!” Y/N grabbed her little brother’s wrist and pulled him deeper into the woods. Struggling to keep up with his older sister, the toddler tripped over his own two feet causing her to lift him up and run as fast as she could.

She had seen them. The wind had picked up and a trail of leaves had started to dance around behind them. She knew they were coming for her. Ryan wrapped his arms around his sister’s neck as he let out muffled sobs. He was scared and so was Y/N.

Jumping over a log that was in her way, she glanced over her shoulder to see if they were still being chased. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she saw the black horse approaching them at a rapid pace. Sprinting as fast as she could, she made her way down to the creek.

“Ryan, you have to listen to me.” She set him down.

“I’m scared Y/N.” He cried, covering his eyes. 

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Movie Time -ch1

Summary: Clay needs some down time, and who better to spend it with than Tony?

Word Count: 2053

Notes: Hey guys, this is my first time posting any writing, but I just finished ‘13 Reasons Why’ and love the dynamic between Clay and Tony so felt inspired. I’m not sure if it’s too long, but I don’t have an archive of our own account. If you are interested in more chapters I will set one up and continue the story…let me know if you are interested (or to let me know if I’m posting wrong or something, I’m pretty new at all this!) Enjoy!

.

Clay

It had been a long school year.  After Hannah’s suicide, the tapes, and the court case, he found himself needing a break. Walking out of the school building that Friday, backpack slung over one shoulder, he spotted a familiar red Mustang in the parking lot.  Faltering for a second, the thought crossed his mind that Tony might be tired of seeing him, but he decided it couldn’t hurt to ask and made a B-line for the pristine car anyway.  As he was approaching, he saw the trunk close revealing the leather jacket clad, slick back hair-ed Tony.  

“Clay!” he exclaimed, a big sideways smile lighting up his Hispanic features.  Immediately he felt the knot of tension in his stomach begin to loosen. How did Tony do that? Maybe it was all they had been through together, but he and Tony had been friends for a long time and he always remembered the feeling of calm he got from being next to him.

“Hey Tony! You busy? Or do you have time to hang out?” His fingers tapped the pockets of his jeans like they had a mind of their own.

“Sure Clay, what’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.” He looked to the side, pretending to pay attention to the flow of students in the parking lot. How did Tony always know? Was he that bad at hiding his feelings? Or was Tony just that good at reading him by now?

“You sure?” Tony asked, tilting his head sideways as he leaned a hip against his car.

“Yeah…It’s just, I dunno. Feeling like I need a break I guess,” He admitted, shrugging, “My mom is, ya know, being herself and I just kind of need to veg out and not think for a while, ya know?”

“I know.” And he did, Tony always did. “I’m meeting my dad at the shop now, but I’ll be around if you want to stop by later.”

“Great, see ya later!” He nodded, giving a short wave as he turned towards where he had left his bike.

“Hey Clay!” Tony called after him.

“Ya,” he turned, half expecting Tony to have remembered that he had better ways to spend his Friday evening.

“You like black and white films?”

“Yeah man, I work at a movie theater, remember?” he said with a smile.

“Right.  You’re in charge of the popcorn then,” Tony said as he slid into the mustang, not even waiting for a response.  

‘How can you have a movie without a snack?’ he thought as he unlocked the chain to his bike.  He made a mental note to stop by the store on his way home for popcorn and candy feeling much better than he had been just a few minutes before.

 .

He was at the table eating Mike and Ikes while doing homework when he heard the front door open and the unmistakable clatter of his mom’s heels.

“Hey mom,” he said, closing up the box and heading towards the front hall where she was unloading her purse and briefcase.

“Hey sweetie, how was school today?”

“Fine. How was your day?”

“Good, good. I’ve got to meet with a new client in a bit so you and your father are on your own for dinner,” she said as she took her shoes off and checked her makeup in the front hall mirror.

“Uh, actually, I’m going over to Tony’s in a bit. Having a movie night. If that’s ok?”

“Yes, sure sweetie. It’s been a while since you two hung out, you spent so much time together when you were working on that history project.”

“Yes, that,” he said, guiltily running a hand through his short hair, ruffling it at the back a bit. “It’s just that, you know, he’s been spending a lot of time with his boyfriend.” He didn’t know how his mom would respond to Tony having a boyfriend. Not that it mattered to him, but according to Tony it was a common fact that everybody knew.

“That’s nice, you should always make time for the people you love,” his mom said with a smile. Apparently Tony having a boyfriend was no news to her, furthering in his mind how clueless he must have been.  She looked up at him from her briefcase for the first time since she had gotten home and immediately a frown crossed her face. “Oh dear, that scar is still showing on your forehead, when will that ever heal?” She reached up as if to rub the spot from his face.

“Mom! It’s fine, it’s healing just fine,” he said, turning back towards the table where he’d left his homework. Seeing a text from Tony he picked up his phone read, ‘Home now, just cleaning up. You can come over anytime’. It would take a while on his bike so he figured he would start now. “Hey mom, I’m leaving. Good luck with your new client.” He sent a thumbs up emoji to Tony and started gathering his homework from the table.

“Thanks sweetie, text if you’re going to be very late! Say ‘Hi’ to Tony for me.”

“Will do,” he said with a smirk and a salute as he headed upstairs to dump his homework and grab his backpack with the snacks. He sniffed his shirt on his way up, opting to change into a fresher one and reapply his deodorant before the ride to the other side of town.

 .

“Hey Mr. Padilla,” he said as he swung off his bike at the end of the driveway.

“Oh, hey Clay,” Tony’s dad called out, barely looking up from under the car hood, “Hey, grab me that wrench there in my toolbox, will ya?”

“Sure, this one?” He said as he grabbed the one on top and started handing it over.

“No, not the screwdriver, Clay, the wrench, the wrench! How do you work on your bike if you don’t know what a wrench looks like?”

He dropped the tool and grabbed for another that Tony’s dad was pointing to. He turned his head to the side and shrugged, “Uh, well Tony usually fixes it for me?”

“Dad, give him a break,” he heard Tony say from behind them as his dad shook his head. “I don’t mind fixing it,” Tony said with a shrug and a look in his direction.

“If you always do it for him, how is he supposed to learn anything? I had you under the hood of this car since before you could walk.”

“Alright dad, next time Clay’s bike breaks down, I’ll make him fix it on his own,” Tony said with a smile, “You hungry Clay? I was just about to eat some dinner when I decided to rescue you.”

“Yeah, I haven’t had dinner yet either, my mom had a meeting – she says ‘Hi’ by the way,” he said as he followed Tony inside the house. “Hey, you weren’t serious about my bike, right?”

“You’ll have to learn sometime, and a bike’s not that difficult Clay,” Tony said with a smile and a sideways glance as he held the screen door open.

“Mmm…unhelpful Yoda,” he mumbled softly as he walked by Tony and into the house, a soft laugh his only indication that Tony had heard him.

 .

Dinner at the Padilla house was always nice, and very different from the quiet dinners he was used to at home. Tony and his three brothers all talking and laughing loudly, recounting their day in a mixture of English and Spanish to their parents, his sister louder than them all. He found it hard to focus on his own thoughts, which was quite refreshing. He even found himself swept up in the laughter and dinner talk, and out of the corner of his eye had caught Tony smiling at him more than once. Now he and Tony were in the living room on the couch all set up with their popcorn and miscellaneous candy. Tony’s siblings had gone their separate ways, his mom in the kitchen, and his dad had gone back out to the garage.

“Hey, thanks again for having me over,” he said as he watched Tony pick through a box next to the TV. The lights were off, but he could still see Tony’s handsome features from the light coming from the TV.

“No problem man, anytime,” Tony said with a look over his shoulder, “You spend way too much time in your head, you need a break.”

He sank more comfortably into the couch, “Yeah, but it’s harder to do in your house, your family is a lot noisier than mine.”

“Hey,” Tony said in a mock stern voice as he waggled a VHS at him.

“I mean in a good way!” he exclaimed as Tony inserted the VHS, “I love my family, but it’s too easy to get lost in thought and forget you’re not alone.”

“I get it,” Tony said as he planted his smaller frame next to him on the left and put his socked feet on the table in front of them. “But it’s hard to find a moment of peace and quiet to yourself here. Why do you think I love my car so much?”

“You love the car cause it’s awesome,” he said, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the table and leaning back. “Now, what are we watching?”

“Be patient, you’ll see,” Tony said slyly as he toyed with the remote.

“Is it Casablanca?” he guessed, watching to see Tony’s reaction.

“Dude,” Tony said as he lightly smacked his chest, “the movie’s starting, don’t ruin it.”

He smiled to himself, how many times had they seen this movie? It didn’t matter, it was a classic and they were hanging out without talking about Hannah or Alex or any of the number of messed of things that seemed to be happening in their lives right now. He started as a piece of popcorn bounced off his forehead, jogging him out of his train of thought. He looked over at Tony who was watching him with concern in his eyes. “Thanks,” he said as he popped the piece in his mouth and returned to watching the opening scene. Tony nodded in response.

Not twenty minutes later, Tony’s dad appeared with a beer in hand and took up a position in the armchair to the side of the couch. “Ah man, not this again,” he said half-heartedly as he swiped their popcorn bowl and settled in. “How many times have you guys watched the movies in that box, huh? Must have seen them all a hundred times…”

“Shhhh, dad, this is the good part,” Tony said with a smirk. As his dad turned back to the screen he sprawled out a little more between the couch and the table, one arm on the armrest and the other coming around the back of the couch.

He took a second to marvel at how much Tony resembled a cat. Relaxed and content, yet ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Hair still neatly held in place by goodness knows what kind of hair product. He turned back to the television screen, now wondering since when had he taken to staring at Tony so much? But the longer Tony sat next to him, the more inviting his relaxed position seemed to be and he felt himself nodding off not much later.

“Is that comfortable?” he heard Tony whisper over the sound of his dad’s snores. Tony was lightly touching the back of his head that had slumped to his chest of it’s accord.

“Mmmm…mmhmm” he murmured sleepily as he shook his head lightly. Still sleepy, he leaned his weight to the left, his head finding Tony’s chest. When his move seemed to bring about no commotion, he tucked his legs onto the couch and let his body relax against Tony’s. He was about to ask if it was alright, but slowly Tony’s right arm made it’s way down to land on his side, fingers curled around his arm, softly keeping him right where he was. He let a small sigh escape him as he happily breathed in Tony’s aftershave, but before he drifted off he felt something brush the top of his head. His last thought before succumbing to sleep was ‘Was that a kiss?…’

Hidden Behind Straightened Hair

Hidden Behind Straightened Hair | The fives times Dan’s hair was used as a joke to hide his insecurity about his sexuality, and the one time it wasn’t.| Phan | PG-13 | Homophobia, Bi-Erasure, 2012 Scenario’s, Curly hair/Straight jokes | 5,304 Words

Massive thank you to @ineverhadmyinternetphase​ for quite literally letting me force her to read over my shoulder the entire time I worked on this, and her endless support of both my take on 2012 events, and bi-erasure.

Honestly guys, this is the thing I am currently the most proud of ever having written, so please let me know what you think <3 I’m literally shaking as I post this. 

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Olicity Drabble~ Consequences

Originally posted by itsmamukibhanji

So this would by my dream chat between Oliver and Felicity in say 5x20. This has no chance in hell of happening but hey it made me feel so much better! Enjoy! 

Consequences 

“That door still makes a lot of noise doesn’t it?” she lightly hollered from her seated position along the dust laden floor. He stopped at the midway of the once often used stairs. The time spent unused made them feel weak as if time itself had caused the iron to rot from the inside. Her red rimmed eyes flew towards as he lumbered downward; in turn he gazed at her sadly. Her once bright eyes no longer lit up when he entered the room, now they flickered with despair at the state of their once unbreakable bond.

His nose crinkled slightly in faded humor, “Felicity you know the entire police department is looking for you right?” 

He watched her head tilt in disinterest, “You know I never noticed how damp and dark this place actually was…I guess it takes a change of perspective to see what’s really there doesn’t it?” 

Oliver held back a pained sighed, “How drunk are you?” 

She hiccupped but it wasn’t the one he’d expected, “I’m sober Oliver or should I say Ollie since he’s the person you’ve become since you chose to fight for a relationship with Susan.” 

He padded down the few remaining hard steps and didn’t reply until his feet were over the hard, cold, and still wet cement of the old lair’s unforgiving floors. “So you’re starting with the cheap shots I see…” 

She snapped her head and glared darkly, “No, I’d just rather avoid another pointless conversation with a man I barely know.” 

He shoved his nervous fingers into his pockets and crossed the empty room. She kept her rigid body pressed against the furthest pillar as he himself used to do. Her usually perfect blonde hair was now almost dirty blonde, her nails were chipped, her cuticles were bleeding along the sides, and her skin was pale. “I didn’t come here to hurt you Felicity, I just came to talk,” he breathed in torment as the light flickered above her face. 

She shot those dark, grey, stormy eyes at him for a moment before they fell back to her knotted fingers. Her once brightly colored lips now cracked as she curved them into a dark smile, “Hmmm now you want to talk. Isn’t that just great,” she sneered snidely.  

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Fast-Forward: Part 2

Find part one: HERE.


Bright light flickered above her as she shifted underneath the heavy quilt. Claire was hot, warmer than she’d ever been in her life. The heat stifled her as she tried to dig her way out.

Seeing her distress, Jamie gently pried the duvet from the sides where Jenny had tucked it in tight. He’d been with her all night, watching and waiting as if to assure himself that she was safe.

Jenny and Ian had been raging when he’d driven home, his sister’s face alight with fury as he’d pulled his car to a stop in the drive. Rushing from the porch, Ian had tried to pull her backwards, his gaze apologetic as she’d waggled her finger at her wayward brother.

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anonymous asked:

Could you write a bughead fanfic on what would happen if Alice didn't barge through the door when Betty and jughead were kissing

I was waiting for this request to make its way into my ask, it was inevitable!
Warning: just a big old pile of self-indulgent steamy Bughead ahead.

***

Jughead tentatively stretched his fingers out, brushing lazily against Betty’s denim-clad knee, loving that he could do that now. He could run a reassuring hand down her arm, twirl the ends of her permanent ponytail between his fingers, rest his palm delicately against the small of her back, and she would just tilt her face towards him and smile warmly in response to his caresses. He felt slightly guilty because he knew, deep down, that despite his every touch coming from a place of unadulterated love and affection it was also purely self indulgent on his part. A thrill, never lessening in its intensity, coursed through him at every opportunity for contact. He was a man forever thirsty and she was a never ending fountain of cool, fresh water, quenching his every desire.

“…what did I do wrong?” she asked him, eyes round with innocent sadness. His hand pressed more firmly on her knee, her cool fingers wrapping around his wrist in response, locking the touch in place.

“Nothing. We’ll figure it out,” he reassured, hoping to instil in her every confidence he felt about their ability to overcome each hurdle life threw at them. Together, they would get through it. Her eyes softened, hope radiating through as she clung to his promises in desperation. His eyes shifted to her lips. She looked angelic in the soft morning glow that shone through her window, combing its way through the few flyaway hairs that had managed to escape her tight up-do. Highlighting this slight disarray that slipped through her little facade made him smile; she looked more carefree, more her age, without the pressing weight of all the responsibilities she shouldn’t have on her shoulders. He couldn’t help himself. “Come here.”

Her expression shifted as he leaned forward, tilting his chin up with a cheeky smirk as he waited for her lips to meet his own. Her eyes glistened with mischief and he basked in his ability to make her forget, even for a moment, about her troubles, helping her get lost in the sanctity that was this new thing evolving between them. He slid his hand up her thigh, nerve ends tingling with the action. It was something entirely new for Jughead but he had definitely taken a liking to it. Her hands lifted to cup his slightly rosy cheeks beneath soft fingertips, an action that accompanied most of their kisses. He hadn’t realised how safe it made him feel, that in amongst the fluttering in the pit of his stomach and the tingle in his lips, that one simple action of hands caressing his face felt so comforting. It was warm summer evenings in front of a campfire, snowy days with blankets and hot chocolate, lazy mornings with muted rays filtering across fluttering eyelids. It was home.

The first touch of his lips on hers was enough to make his head spin. Sure, it was mere hours since he’d kissed her last but it was too long, always too long. Lips danced against one another, flicking between teasing pecks and deeper pulls, building up an unreplicable rhythm, releasing each time with a suctioning pop as reluctant air flooded between them. She tasted sweeter than any food he’d ever eaten, sun-ripe strawberries and pop rocks bursting on his tastebuds as he licked a stripe along the seam of her lips, begging them to open and let him savour every last drop of flavour he could find. She was intoxicating, his choice of drug, and the high she could insight was of the most addictive kind.

Tentatively he grazed his teeth against her lip, blood buzzing at the sweet, shaky mewl that slipped out against his mouth. Her needy response caused a bud of newfound confidence to blossom in his chest, hand sliding higher until he was cupping her perfectly round behind, fingers dipping into her back pocket to squeeze the pert flesh hidden by the too-thick fabric of her jeans. She rose onto her knees, arching into his touch as she gasped against his lips, eyes cracking open to sneak a glance at his face under her fingers. His pupils blown with lust, lips swollen a deliciously enticing red, plump and inviting. The curl hanging teasingly from beneath his beanie tickled her forehead and she had to do it, pulling the offending item off his head, releasing the ebony waves it hid too often beneath. She carded her fingers through it desperately, nails scratching slightly against his scalp, Jughead shivering under her touch, a rough groan rising from his throat.

He thought his heart would give out as she shimmied forward, gracefully planting herself directly in his lap, one leg on either side of both of his. The new warm weight, pushing pressure against his groin, was all consuming. His hands trembled as they slipped under her soft cotton shirt, trailing up the smooth skin of her back, feeling the muscles twitch beneath the motion. Her back bowed as they broke apart, breathless, chests heaving. The action had her pert breasts rising and falling tantalisingly close to his face, fingers clutching desperately at her skin in an attempt to restrain himself. She looked so wonderfully dishevelled that he couldn’t help but move his lips back to her, trailing wet, sloppy kisses down her neck, rewarded by Betty throwing her head back, granting him easier access to the soft slope. He could feel her pulse, fluttering in frenzy like a hummingbird beneath the blazing trail he left in his wake. Jughead, in a moment of braveness, drunk on a cocktail of Betty’s high pitched whimpers, closed his mouth around her pulse point and sucked.

Any attempt to keep the twitch in his pants from developing into something further were shot to hell at the noise that echoed across Betty’s sun sleepy room. The moan was sin itself, sending shockwaves through his body, all blood rushing south as her hips circled against his own almost involuntarily.

“Jug…” she whispered against his temple, dropping a messy kiss there, wiping away a bead of sweat with her lips. Her hips continued their torturous game, his breath stuttering as he tried to hold it together. His hand slid up her side to cup her breast, squeezing roughly as she captured his lips with hers once more, lost in the sensation of Jughead touching her most intimate areas, seemingly surrounding her entirely. She was drowning herself in him and she’d never wanted anything more. He felt himself reaching a peak.

“We… we have… to go,” he got out between kisses, contradicting himself by pulling her closer.

“Yeah, we do,” she breathed, making no move to stop.

“Elizabeth you’re going to be late!” Alice yelled from the bottom of the stairs, voice cutting through the thick sexual fog that had completely shrouded them.

Jughead was almost grateful when Betty slumped against him, forehead touching his as they both tried to come back to reality. Only once they stopped did he realise how close they’d come to stepping over the next threshold into something completely new for them. He wanted it, oh how badly he wanted it, but not now, not in the fleeting minutes before they joined her mother for breakfast, before they met their friends at school.

“To be continued?” she murmured, green eyes gleaming as she stroked her thumb over his flushed cheek. He smirked, brushing the tip of his nose sweetly against hers.

“Yes please,” he whispered, raising his eyebrows. She giggled prettily, taking one last deep breath before climbing off his lap. Her hand had closed over the door handle before she realised he wasn’t following her.

“Juggie?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder in concern. He was perched on the edge of her mattress, hands braced on either side of him, head down as he took a deep breath in.

“I just… need a minute,” he mumbled, tips of his ears turning pink. A laugh burst from Betty’s lips as she failed to bite it back. The glare he shot her way quickly melted into a laugh, joining her in her delighted giggles, unable to be mad at her teasing at all.