michelle starts to get buddy buddy with ned and peter, ish.
starts to actually kind of like ned, even if he sometimes puts his foot in his
mouth sometimes. but they argue about the merits of comic books as a form of
literature and he teaches her some words in tagalog and she learns how to call
peter a son of a bitch so she’s pretty entertained.
the weird things just keep piling up with peter.
rushes off at random times, freezes whenever she asks him where he’s going,
shows up to school with cuts and bruises looking like he’s been fighting in an
underground boxing ring. she even saw him go into the chemistry lab the other
day at lunch time even though they both took chemistry last year and he’s
taking biology now.
just does really weird things sometimes and michelle can’t help but notice.
also can’t help but notice that spiderman is becoming more and more popular. people
sell t-shrits, masks, shot glasses, tote bags. everything, basically. and maybe
one day michelle might spend a little too much time looking at a t-shirt with a
picture of spiderman in all his toned, muscly glory. but she just shakes her
head and keeps moving.
gets curious about him, though. where did he come from? who is he? why is he
doing this? why did he sound oddly familiar in DC when he saved her friends?
then one day she’s walking home from school after academic decathlon and she
missed the bus which is totally her fault for staying later after practice to
chat with peter and ned about the upcoming weekend and how their plans to
construct a lego version of the starship enterprise were so utterly boring she
could barely stand to listen to them. (and weren’t people supposed to choose
star wars or star trek? was that not
a thing? not that she cares about
things peter likes. well, peter AND ned. anyway.)
turning a corner when she sees someone out of the corner of her eyes. there is
a man on the opposite side of the street walking several yards back from here. it
could be nothing. but she’s also been taught to always be on high alert. so she
grips her backpack to her body a bit tighter and walks a little faster down the
street, cursing herself for not taking the more populated albeit slightly
longer route home.
continues down the street when she notices the man cross the street so that he’s
on the same side of the road as she and at that point she just starts running. better
that he thinks she’s odd if he isn’t following her than be caught if he is
trying to catch her. she sprints down the street and turns another corner as
she looks back to check if the man is following her and then bam. she’s on the
ground, gripping the shoulder that practically crashed into a brick wall.
my goodness, are you okay?” she sighs and looks at the owner of the panicked
voice and she is left speechless. it’s…well, it’s spiderman.
"You’re mister J’s new obsession, Sugar” 1/3- Bruce Wayne x Reader
Summary : You have been married to Bruce for quite some years now, and you both knew it was inevitable that you’d get in danger one day…but you really never expected the Joker to start to be obsessed with you. CHAPTER 1/3.
Warnings : mentions of sex, also, Bruce is “old” if that bothers you in any way…If your like me and have a thing for older guys, then carry on please.
Looking at yourself in the mirror of your bathroom, you groaned and turned around to glare at your husband that was taking a shower. He immediately felt that you were staring, but to his disappointment, it wasn’t for the reason he hoped for…
-Is something wrong dear ?
-Yes Bruce, something’s wrong. How old are you ?
-Just answer my question honey.
-…Hum, 46 ?
-Yes. 46. You’re 46 years old.
At the way you were looking at him, mad as Hell, standing in the frame of the shower door that you just violently swung open, billionaire ex-playboy superhero Bruce Wayne got kinda worried. He was trying to figure out what he did that could have pissed you off that much, as you were really difficult to annoy, almost never getting angry…But boy when you were angry, it was scary. Apparently now though, you were more annoyed than mad. So he was trying to remember what he could have done.
You kept your nose buried in your book dutifully, keeping a focused eye on the boy sitting in front of you in class.
Almost as if he had somehow sensed your stare, he jerked, turning his head slightly to survey the room. You nearly jolted but kept your cover, sweating as you returned your eyes to your book and pretended to read.
It was obvious, really.
Peter was seen as a nerd. And for a long time, you’d thought the same.
You might have not been the closest friend to Peter, but he was in a numerous amount of your classes. That fact alone was enough that you could tell his tendencies by now, his tell tale ticks in verbal language, the way he fidgeted on his feet endlessly and bit his lip when he was nervous.
Then one day, you stopped and looked. And all your previous misconceptions shattered.
Peter Parker was an anomaly.
Not to mention he was too inconspicuous.
Now there were many people in the school that did not stick out, washed away in the ocean of teenagers that walked the hallways. But Peter was too invisible. It was almost like he purposefully didn’t want the attention.
The moment you intentionally tried to notice him, you wondered why the hell he wasn’t more popular.
Number one: Peter was smart. Not just nerd smart, but almost prodigy smart. Perfect grades, stellar performance on the spot when asked. He went off into ramblings in chemistry class, often underneath his breath, but as you sat right behind him you often heard what others did not. The things you heard made you wonder why in the world he wasn’t two grades up.
Number two: he was kind. Now sure he had snark, but you could count on him to stop and help a crying child on the side of the road, or carry anyone who sprained their ankle in physical education when no one else wanted to.
Number three: talking about P.E, Peter was fit as hell. Maybe it was the baggy clothes that hid that from everyone’s sight, but the boy was built like a god. One Monday you’d been running late for class, and accidentally took a right for the hallway by the locker rooms instead of the hallway down corridor 1A. You groaned and went to turn around when you nearly choked in surprise at something in the corner of your eye.
Or rather, someone.
Peter was drying his hair with a towel, faced away from you, fumbling in his bag for something. Your eyes trailed from the wet hair sticking to his neck to his firm chest, down to pairs of abs decorating his stomach and even further leading down to a V line right above his jeans- You swallowed, just as your mind went haywire and you made a beeline out of view before he could realize you were there.
Whose great idea was it to have the locker rooms not have any doors??
But you digress.
Point was, there was way more to Peter than you had thought. (Lets not even mention his unnatural strength, you’d once seen him accidentally shatter a test tube with his bare hands in chemistry, whistling as he threw the remains in the trash without anyone seeing.)
But the real reason you accused him of being the masked hero swinging round the rooftops of Queens, was that Peter, putting it simply, was a hell of a bad actor. He didn’t know the word subtle if you stapled it to his forehead.
You’d lost count of the amount of times Peter had raised his hand in class to ‘go to the bathroom’, leg tapping anxiously below his chair and looking like he wanted to jet. Some people had even dubbed him ‘Pissy Parker’ based on that fact that he could never ever stay in class for too long. Twenty minutes later Peter would come back, scolded by the teacher for taking so long but with a satisfied smile on his face, a bruise lining his jaw that had definitely not been there when he left and a bounce in his step.
Oh, and wouldn’t you guess, only seconds after that the class was buzzing with chatter when social media blew up about ‘Spiderman saving the day again at a bank heist!’ just moments before.
You were many things, but you were not an idiot.
Nevertheless, Peter Parker was Spiderman, and that was a fact. You’d had enough time to find more pieces of evidence that you were sure you weren’t just making it up.
Did you tell anyone?
Why would you?
Honestly, it wasn’t your secret to tell. Peter and you didn’t even really know each other. The best interaction you’d had together was maybe that one time you’d tapped him on the shoulder to ask for a pen, or when your teacher had paired you two for a project the month before.
Other than that, you were practically strangers. Strangers that saw each other every day of their lives in the same class, but still strangers.
Such was high-school.
Thoughts of rewards and money came to your mind whenever you contemplated telling anyone, but you quickly shut that idea down every time. Peter was a good guy. He didn’t deserve that.
So you kept your mouth closed, and continued to live life like you didn’t know the identity of a literal superhero in your school.
You paused your walk in response to the voice that had stopped you on your way home.
“Yes?” You asked, itching to go. You’d left school late that day because of something your teacher had wanted to go over with you, and as a consequence it was late, the sun already beneath the horizon. Added to the darkness there were few people on the vacant streets and you really just wanted to get home.
The man looked back at you, scruff lining his jaw, hair in shambles and wearing raggedy clothes.
Homeless, you thought.
“Would you spare a penny?”
You had to go home…
His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t drunk anything in days.
The guilt in your chest only grew till you groaned and reached into your jeans pocket for your wallet, offering him a tiny smile. “Sure.”
You were zipping it open when movement stirred in the corner of your eye. You suddenly realized you’d stopped to speak to the homeless man in front of an alley. Hungry eyes from within stared at the wallet in your hands, and you froze.
“A-Ah, yes,” you put your wallet back, trying to act natural as you eyed the homeless man who probably wasn’t homeless at all. What homeless guy’s teeth were that white? “Actually I think I have to go. I’ll stop by tomorrow though.”
You stepped back but hit into a body. Pure panic rushed over you when a nasty chuckle blew breath over your ear and arms trapped your own to your sides.
“Where are ya’ going missie?”
You opened your mouth to scream but a grubby palm covered your lips. And just like that you were pulled into the alley, disappearing without a soul to see.
“Smart one isn’t she?” The homeless guy from before drawled, and his back was no longer hunched and that hopeless gleam was not in his eyes, but instead his spine was straight and a predatory glint encompassed his entire face. How many people had been tricked by his ruse?
How could you be so stupid??
You thrashed and struggled but whoever had you captive was bigger and stronger, and you could feel your eyes burn with tears.
“Aw, she’s crying,” The guy behind you cooed, hand slipping down your body to suddenly dive into your pocket. “Don’t worry pretty miss, we jus’ want your money.”
“And maybe a treat,” The homeless one grinned, raking his gaze over your form and licking his lips.
Something within you broke.
You lashed out with a strength you didn’t know you had, ramming an elbow into your captor’s stomach hard. He let go of your mouth in surprise, expletives pouring off his tongue. The minute he did you screamed the loudest you ever had, throat rubbed raw as your voice rang out hoarsely.
“Shut her up!” The homeless guy hissed, stepping forward to take care of you manually when another voice interrupted everything.
“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”
The three of you looked at the end of the alley, where a certain hero stood casually, like he was watching a baseball match.
“Oh its the spider brat,” the guy behind you grunted, and the homeless guy raised an eyebrow.
“What are you looking at! Go ahead and run away you bug frea-”
The words hadn’t finished leaving his mouth when Spiderman shot an arm out, webs entangling the man, launching of his feet to kick him to the floor. You were left free when the other guy went to attack, his arm going to a bulge in his jacket that looked suspiciously like a gun.
Your heart leapt in worry and desperation. No matter how fast Spiderman was he couldn’t dodge a bullet.
Before you could even warn him Spiderman was there, impossibly, weaving through the attacker’s punches like he was dancing. The attacker was bigger and bolder in body mass, but as you watched Spiderman basically beat him into the ground and use his speed and mass against him, you wondered why you had even been worried.
Ten seconds later there were two unconscious bandits on the floor at your feet, and you were left looking at Spiderman with glazed eyes, shivering and trembling from the cold and at what had just transpired.
Spiderman stared back (or you imagined he did, his mask was not transparent). He cocked his head, as if he were studying you before holding out a hand.
You twitched, stepping back instinctively.
“Phone,” He said, and his voice was muffled by the mask, but you heard it anyway. It sounded deep, too deep, almost as if he were putting on an accent.
You could only stare wide eyed at him. Phone?
You scrambled for your phone, pulling it out and placing it in his patient palm.
He dialed a number and put it to his ear when the rings stopped.
“Yes, 911?” And again he had another accent, panicked this time and high as if a scared bystander. How many voices could he impersonate? Maybe he was better an actor than you had thought. “There are two men knocked out at the alley beside the restaurant Benny’s on fifth street! They look like the criminals that were on the news the other day. Please come!”
He hung up, tossing you your phone without hesitation and you fumbled to catch it.
Another awkward silence, and you could only imagine what you looked like: clothes a mess, a shallow wound bleeding on your face from where one of the men had scratched you in the struggle, gawking at the person who’d just saved you.
He cleared his throat.
“Are you coming?” He gestured to himself. “We need to leave before the fuzz get here.”
You didn’t give yourself ample time to mull over the fact that Spiderman had just called the police the fuzz and instead eyed his offered hand cautiously. Of course you knew logically he would never hurt you but you had already been assaulted once that night, and were understandably jittery.
His voice lowered, more gentle at your obvious fright. “I won’t hurt you.”
You thought that maybe he had forgotten his need for a fake accent because that sounded too familiar to the voice of a certain brunette you sat behind in school, but you ignored it.
You nodded and shuffled to him, feeling the warmth of his presence as his hand wrapped around yours. He stared at you for a second longer before he was pulling you towards him with a tug, and you somehow imagined a grin forming on his face.
Flying with Spiderman put any rollercoaster out there to shame.
Ok, it technically wasn’t flying, but it sure felt like it as you clung shamelessly to him, repressing screams as he swung over the city. Wind ran through your hair and had it messily streaking across your eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut, stomach falling to the ground-
And it was over. Just like that.
You didn’t know how long it had really lasted, but it felt like only a couple seconds when Spiderman landed you on your balcony. You clung to him still, mind spinning. The adrenaline should have had you as awake as a bunny on five shots of pepsi and mentos but instead you found that you could barely keep your eyes open.
“Here we are-” Spiderman was interrupted by your body slumping into his side. He nearly fell forward but adjusted to handle your dead weight. “H-Hey! You alright?”
“Peachy,” you mumbled but your legs already gave out. He sighed, seemingly contemplating something before going towards your glass doors that you left unlocked, sliding them open and stepping into your room.
“This is on so many levels creepy,” You thought you heard him say to himself but you were dipping in and out of consciousness as he laid you down gently on your bed.
You registered sheets tucking themselves under your chin.
“Night, Y/N,” You caught whispered over the rush in your ears lulling you to sleep.
“Thank you, Peter,” you muttered back, already asleep before you could feel the hand on your arm tighten in surprise.
Something was wrong.
It was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t find it.
You mused in wonder as you brushed your teeth, gazing at your reflection. What was this feeling?
You gurgled and spit, rubbing foam that had escaped the water at the corner of your mouth.
You went over the events of last night as you said good morning to your parents, popping a piece of toast in your mouth. Stayed at school late. Robbers. Spiderman.
It was easy enough to remember. After all, you had a cut on your face to prove it hadn’t been a dream.
But that still wasn’t what was eluding you, you thought in frustration as you entered the school gates, stepping off the bus. Sure it had been terrifying, but the queasy feeling of unnerve in your abdomen was different somehow. What had happened? Were you forgetting something?
You stopped stressing over it as you settled in your first class. No point if you couldn’t remember. If it was important you surely would later.
It was only when you were walking into the room of your second period that you were hit with the reason of the unease. You waved bye to a friend in the hall, stepping into the class and shifting your head, Peter Parker lifting his own head from his desk to meet your eyes-
The hazy memories came back looking into those brown eyes.
You’d landed on your balcony after he saved you…he tucked you in because you suddenly couldn’t function…he had said your name and that maybe was the reason why you felt to respond using his as well-
“Thank you, Peter.”
Oh god you’d said his name.
And there was no excuse you had for why you could possibly know that.
You broke eye contact with him, walking with hurry, trying to ignore his eyes burning into the back of your head. You stopped by one of your closer friends and asked to trade seats with him with what you hoped wasn’t a stutter. He agreed with questioning in his eyes but agreed anyway, and you sighed in relief that you didn’t have to sit behind Peter.
When the bell rang in an hour you shot out of your seat and out of the class before Peter could get the chance to even bat an eyelash your way. You were not having that conversation.
You proceeded to ignore him the whole day at every point, blatantly not sitting where you normally would for lunch, running from classes before he could catch you. Finally the last class for the day ended with a ring of the bell and you speed walked to the exit of the school after shrugging on your bag. You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, freedom in sight-
You froze as a hand landed on your shoulder.
“Do you mind me asking you something?”
Yes, you minded very very much-
“Not at all.”
From an outsiders view the conversation was harmless, normal as Peter shifted, kind as he usually was, simply asking a friend to stop. But you knew better. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. The hand on your shoulder exhibited enough force that he overpowered you five times to one.
Peter smiled innocently. “Great.”
Two seconds later you were shuffled into an empty classroom. Peter shut the door behind him, leaning against it with crossed arms and expectant eyes.
“Uh-” You started. “What’s this about?”
Peter raised an eyebrow. He said nothing but his stare intensified, as if saying ‘don’t play with me’.
You broke, feeling very intimidated. “Look, yes I know who you are. But I promise, I didn’t tell anyone-”
“How can I trust you?”
You gaped like a fish. “What?”
“You heard me,” He tilted his head, and you watched his jaw tighten, eyes storming.
You wanted to cry.
“I-I don’t- I’m sorry I-”
You stopped, utterly confused as you watched Peter dissolve into laughter. At your befuddled expression he laughed louder, covering his mouth and outright giggling.
“What.” You deadpanned at this point.
He opened one eye, tearing up at his guffawing. He wiped it, a blush staining his flushed face.
“I-I’m not going to kill you, Y/N,” He said, still trying to control himself. Whatever intimidation you had been getting was erased completely, and he was genuinely grinning at you, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I just wanted to know how you knew it was me. But that was great.”
You had seen him trembling before, yes, but you thought that was from anger not from restraining laughter. You registered that he had tricked you finally after your brain caught up.
You were going to kill him.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“W-Woah!” He backed off, and you reveled in his frightened face, though you doubted you could even bruise him. “I’m sorry but the chance was right there and you were running away from me all day like you thought I was going to bury you in my backyard.”
At this your own anger dissipated and you couldn’t help the snort that left you at the image. You blanched, appalled at what you’d just done but if anything Peter looked more amused.
“See? It was funny.”
You let it go, rolling your eyes. “Alright fine, fine.”
“But really,” He appraised you curiously. “Did someone tell you? How did you know?”
“I figured it out myself,” You replied, and his eyebrows raised in surprise as if that was the last thing he was expecting.
“What?” You smirked. “Sad your full proof secret identity was figured out? You’re not that subtle Pete.”
His mouth flapped, as if you had just insulted his ego, ears staining red at the tips. You snorted again and he grumbled, but his lips lifted.
“Is that it?” You asked when he didn’t say anything else, merely looking at you with soft eyes, causing something stirring in you that made your insides heat. “You’re not going to bribe or blackmail me to keep your secret?”
“Bribe?” He asked, incredulous but still amused. He laughed. “What do you think I am?”
You shrugged sheepishly.
Peter shook his head. “No, if you haven’t said anything this far, I don’t think you will moving forward.” He smiled and it was like he was the sun, small dimples forming at the sides of his mouth as his eyes crinkled. “I trust you to keep my secret.”
Your heart jumped again and this time you couldn’t ignore it as warmth flooded you at his smile.
“I see, thank you.” You tried to control your breathing as your heart-rate picked up, holding onto your bag straps for comfort. “I guess I’ll leave then.”
“Wait,” He stopped you, still blocking the door. You gave him an inquisitive gaze and he paused, nibbling on his bottom lip.
“A-Actually there is something I’d like you to do,” He said, rubbing the back of his neck apprehensively. “You k-know, as assurance that you won’t give it up.”
“What?” You asked hesitantly. What could he want for him to be reacting like that.
At your words he swallowed visibly then looked at you with pink cheeks, smiling crookedly. “Kiss me?”
Your universe stopped.
When you didn’t reply he began rambling again, the confidence knocked right out of him.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve always kind of liked you and-” You were already walking towards him while he went off on a tangent, embarrassed.
“Y-you kind of sit behind me all the time so I can’t really talk to y-you but I think you’re beautiful and since, well you know my secret now I was just wondering and I-I know it’s stupid-”
“Peter,” you said, and you had crossed the distance to stand right in front of him. His cheeks glowed brighter.
You pressed your lips to his softly, inexperienced. He gasped against your mouth, unresponsive in shock, before he was suddenly all motion, gripping you and kissing you back. The world spun and his back was no longer against the door but yours was, and you couldn’t care less, raising your hands to play with the curls at the base of his neck that had always fascinated you.
Peter made a noise against you as you tugged at the strands and you found yourself unable to think when his shy, sweet kisses turned more desperate, roughly searing his lips to yours, drawing shivers and goosebumps.
A rattle of the doorknob knocked the both of you out of the spell and you gasped raggedly as the door you were leaning against rattled again.
“Locked…? Hey, is someone in there?” The janitor’s voice called.
You quieted your pants, staring into Peter’s eyes, elation running through you as he put a finger to his lips, smiling back. After another couple knocks the janitor grumbled, and you heard the jingle of keys as he backed off from the door to find the right one.
“What are we gonna do?” You whispered, but the grin curving your lips didn’t match the worry in your tone. Peter motioned for you to follow as he went to the window. It was only when he opened it and put a leg on the sill that you stammered. “Hey wait, are you serious? This is the third floor!”
“And I’m Spiderman,” Peter whispered back, winking at you as he held out a hand for you to take as the doorknob rattled once more.
Ice cream for breakfast leads to something sweeter.
Warnings: NSFW, Fluff, making out, explicit smut quickie, hunting injury. WC: 1669 On AO3
A/N: This is for @atari-writes Birthday Challenge- Happy Birthday! Prompts are L and #8 in bold. And for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog RomCom Fluff Challenge,Prompt #52 from Never Been Kissed in bold italics.
It’d been a rough hunt. Sam, Dean, and I had been ambushed by more vamps than we expected, and barely made it out of there alive. Two hundred miles later we were home and as the Impala rolled into the garage I slowly opened my eyes. Dean turned the car off and looked over his shoulder.
“Wake up, sweetheart. We’re home.” He opened the driver’s side door and crawled out before opening the backdoor. “Can you walk by yourself?”
Amazing imagines!! I love them so much!! ❤❤ I think you've even written enough to start a masterlist soon! If you ever need any ideas/ideas for a rainy day here's a couple. However, please don't feel like I'm expecting you to write all these right now!! It's more of a compiled list of ideas for you if you're having a slow request day/just want to write them -Jealous Betty -Beach day for the gang/Betty in a swimsuit/Jughead in a swimsuit -Bughead napping together -Betty's parents walk in on them
Hey! These are all awesome! I think I’m gonna go with the hickey role reversal for today! Let’s give it a try!
School was ending in about a week, and summer was so close Jughead could practically smell the sunscreen and taste the countless milkshakes he would be devouring.
That being said…
It was hot.
And by hot he didn’t mean, warm with a light breeze, he meant crack an egg on it, it was smoking. He was sweating almost all the time and even with the windows open the Riverdale classrooms were boiling. Unfortunately for him that meant his typical wardrobe of flannels and jeans just wasn’t gonna cut it, and he most definitely was not gonna show up to school in one of those ridiculous tank tops with the sleeves cut down all the way to the bottom, he would leave that to Reggie and chuck. Tools.
Anyway, figuring out what to wear, that was still comfortable for him but also kept him cool enough so he didn’t pass out was a struggle. He wasn’t a shorts guy, unless they were bathing suit bottoms and he was at the beach, so he stuck to his jeans, these ones had a few holes so that should help atleast a little, digging in his drawer he pulled out the only light weight t shirt he had, it was a simple white v neck, nothing too crazy, but also something he normally wouldn’t wear without something else to cover it up, at this point he couldn’t care less, it was too damn hot.
“Looking good” he turned with a smile, meeting the eyes of the gorgeous blonde who had come out of nowhere. Okay so maybe there was one positive thing about the heat, Betty’s wardrobe had to adjust accordingly as well and man was he grateful for the tiny dresses that showed off her gorgeous long legs. Today she had on a white sundress covered in pink and red flowers, it skimmed her mid thigh and he fought the urge to run his fingers along the bare skin. As soon as he was about to retort with a witty comeback, her eyes got wide
“Oh my god” she looked horrified.
Whipping around to look behind him, confused as to what had her in such a state of panic she repeated a little more panicky
“Oh my god.”
“Betty? what the hell? What’s the matter?” She seemed to be at a loss for words and suddenly two more of the gang had arrived, both wearing Similar expressions to Bettys.
“What in sexy time?!” Veronica was practically bouncing she seemed so excited.
Kevin was moving his hands to jugheads neck, before he dodged them with a glare
“What are you all talking about.”
Suddenly Archie was rounding the corner zeroing in on Jughead
“Hey ma… hey! Nice hickey dude! Way to go” he slapped a hand to jugheads shoulder, smiling.
“What! What hick..what are you.” He was twisting trying to find the offending mark. He glanced up at Betty who was beet red and was desperately trying to hide her laughter.
“See Betty, I told you. It’s totally normal to give a boy a hickey, That’s so funny, Betty was just asking me about this at our sleepover last week.” Veronica said laughing handing Jughead her hand mirror.
He snatched the mirror and held it up to his neck. Sure enough, there was a purple mouth shaped bruise on his neck. Snapping the mirror shut he shook his head
“Bacon grease, it splattered.”
Everyone eyed him sceptically as Cheryl walked over
“Oh please, like you cook. Just fess up Jughead, who’s the mystery woman?” The redhead asked.
“There’s no one, you’re all nuts.”
The conversation was stopped short by the first period bell.
“Dude, were totally talking about this at lunch,” Archie said grinning
“Duh” Veronica added throwing a wave to Betty, leaving behind Jughead and Betty as Kevin kissed Betty on the cheek before walking off with Cheryl.
There was a moment of silence Betty smirking at her bright red boyfriend
“So… a tshirt today? No flannel.”
He stared at her dryly
“Wait till all of our friends find out what a little minx you are. You won’t be laughing then.”
Betty shrugged, smiling guiltily and turning on her heels to walk the other way , she quickly turned around and added
“No one told you to wear the worlds sexiest tshirt the day after our two month anniversary festivities.”
She winked and practically skipped off.
He slammed his head into the locker gently. She was gonna be the death of him.
By the time lunch came around the entire school was talking about Jugheads hickey, the rumors were everywhere,
Jughead was seeing Ethel,
Jughead was seeing a girl from central
And of course, Archie and jughead were a couple (that one was Reggie. Tool.)
Slamming his tray on the table besides Betty, she jumped up smiling and meeting his eyes.
The rest of the gang was already there and they instantly turned the conversation to hickeys.
Cheryl of course instigating it
“Well it has to be someone who’s aggressive, obvi, look at that mark.”
Veronica nodded “agreed. I could never do something that good, and I’ve been told I’m a pretty fiery lover.” She flipped her dark hair , smiling.
Cheryl nodded “and we all know how intense I am, but that’s good, even for me.”
Kevin said something that had Archie practically dying he was laughing so hard.
“And we all know it can’t be Betty, no offense bets but we all kind of agree, your not really the most passionate lover.”
Before Jughead could even think he had opened his mouth “try again, she’s pretty much the definition of passionate.”
Everyone at the table seemed to have stopped time, slowly turning their heads to stare at the pair in front of them. Betty was blushing so hard they thought she might explode and jughead was kind of just lost in his own idiocy.
“B..Betty?” Archie squeaked out.
“No way you’re lying.” This time it was kevin.
And Cheryl and Veronica were just staring, shocked.
Suddenly something in Betty snapped and she turned to Kevin.
“Actually, yes it was me. As quiet as you think I am, I am very very attracted to my boyfriend, therefore sometimes I get carried away. Can we please stop this conversation now.” She stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork.
The table went dead silent for thirty seconds before all hell broke loose.
“How did you get it in that shape?”
Dropping her head to the table, she sighed as Jugheads arm came to rest around her shoulder, tugging her into his side.
“No questions, were dating, going on two months. That’s all you’ve gotta know.” The lazy tone in his voice left no room for argument and the table went silent once again.
Squeezing his hand in hers, she smiled up at him. This was far from over and they both knew that, but for right now, their friends were just gonna have to wait. They were happy, and that’s what matters.
Sorry if I’m being a bother but would you be willing to write a Tom
Holland x reader fic where you confess to tom but he rejects you but
later on gets jealous/notices his feelings when the reader sort of
avoids him and hangs out with another friend (because she needs time to
heal or such)? I think this kind of plot has been done before but I
would love to see one from you because your work so far are really
good!! But I hope you are doing this only if you want to :))
a/n: i actually got really nervous writing this my hands started shaking and i got butterflies lmao but i hope it doesn’t seem too rushed or too short
( TOM HOLLAND X READER )
Today. Today. Today.
The simple word is on repeat on your mind for a single reason: today is the day you’d promised yourself something that you can’t go back on, no matter what. Your fingers curl around the long sleeve of your sweater, and your heart thumps hard against your ribs like a caged bird.
Despite the nerves swirling in your stomach, you climb the stairs that lead to Tom’s apartment, cracking your knuckles. You don’t manage to stop yourself from doing so, the habit more prominent when you’re nervous.
It seems like hours pass by until you’re standing in front of his door, fist raised in front of the solid wood, ready to knock. You swallow, and butterflies do loop-de-loops in your belly, rising up to the back of your throat. Before you can delay a second longer, you rap your knuckles against the door.
Having told Tom you were coming beforehand, it doesn’t take him long to shout a quick, “Coming!” from within. You’re able to hear his feet tap against the floor, hurrying to unlock the door and open it for you. As he does so, you’re met with his beautiful smile. His eyes light up when they fall upon you, and his grin widens.
You catch the moment where he recognizes that something’s off. His eyes squint a little bit and his hand falters on the door handle as he ushers you inside. You force a smile and try to act normal, but you trip when you walk past him, cursing vigorously inside your head. Smooth, real damn smooth.
He doesn’t laugh, even though he normally would, you know he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong with you today. “So.” He says, and with your back to him, you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he won’t ask what’s wrong. Thankfully, he doesn’t. Instead, Tom asks, “What do you want to do?” You shrug, one shoulder lifting a bit higher than the other.
Turning, you meet his gaze. “What do you want to do?”
“I asked you first.” He grins.
Your eyes roll, and you look back the other way, your eyes finding his couch, the nightstand, and a little figurine sitting on it, the one you bought him for his last birthday. Now or never, come on. “Um,” You begin, right as he says, “Is there something wrong - “
“Oh.” You say together.
“You first.” You say, an awkward, forced laugh pushing between your lips.
“Okay, uh, why are you acting so funny?” He rushes. “Did I do something, are you leaving, what’s going on?”
You swallow, hard. “You didn’t do anything, Tom, everything’s fine, everything’s…” Your gaze falls back on the figurine. “…actually,” you force out, “I have something to tell you.” At his worried expression, you shake your head, “It’s nothing bad, it’s actually, it’s um, I don’t know what it is.”
His brows tug together, forming a little line on his forehead. “You don’t know what it is?”
“No,” You sigh, wringing your hands together. “I, um, I know what it is.” Your throat suddenly feels like it’s closing as you exhale another shaky breath. “I - I like…you.” Once the words fall out, they won’t stop coming. “I have feelings for you, I don’t know if saying like is childish or whatever, because they might be stronger than just ‘like’, but I - ”
Tom cuts you off by saying your name, just your name. You can’t meet his eyes for what seems like the longest time. When you are finally able to raise your chin and look at him, there’s something in his eyes that makes your heart drop. It isn’t the sort of look he would have if he reciprocated, even a little bit. It’s pity. Pity. The notion that he feels bad or pities you burns your cheeks, and you step back, seeing the rejection written plainly on the lines of his face.
“Oh.” Your voice sounds hollow in your ears. “Okay.” Something rises in your throat, a hard lump that threatens to send tears spilling from your eyes. You push past him, shaking off the hand that lands on your wrist.
“No, wait, I’m sorry - ”
“It’s fine.” You choke out. “I understand. I just um, I just need to go.” Then you do something that makes you disgusted with yourself: you flee, and you cry. You’d promised yourself you’d never do something as stupid as cry over a boy, but it seems this is a day to break those promises.
Your feet land hard on the sidewalk as you run, carrying you around corners and down blocks until you’re all turned around and don’t know where the hell you are. Fumbling to pull your phone out of the pocket of your jeans, you tap the screen, sending out a call. “Hello?” You gulp. “I need some help.”
A few days later finds you curled up in the movie theater with a good friend, his eyes focused intently on the screen as yours are slightly unfocused, your mind playing The Event on repeat instead of allowing you to concentrate on the movie.
Tom had sent you a few texts, none of which were answered, embarrassment boiling in the pit of your stomach.
You‘d posted a picture on instagram with James, the boy sitting next to you, a few hours after you’d left Tom’s apartment, the two of you curled up beneath a blanket. There were no romantic feelings between you, he was more your brother than anything else, and had been the perfect shoulder to cry on, having faced a few rejections from a few different boys himself.
After the picture, Tom hadn’t bothered to try and contact you again. Some small part of you felt a little proud that maybe, just maybe you’d made him jealous.
You sigh. In your dreams.
A few hours later, James is walking you back to your apartment. He leaves you outside the building with a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Love you.” You say.
“Love you too, sis.” He replies, a gentle smile curving his mouth.
You take the elevator to the fourth floor, looking down as it opens to play with your keys, heading a few doors down and turning the corner. Maybe if you were looking up, you wouldn’t have run into him.
Stumbling back, you begin to apologize profusely, but then his brown eyes have met yours, and the words won’t come anymore. Your cheeks flush as you remember, again, how you parted, and your eyes flick away. “Tom.” The word sounds a bit strangled when you say it, but he doesn’t comment. From the corner of your eye, you can see his fist clench within his pocket. Speaking with more bravery than you thought you had, you say, “Have something to say, do you?” His mouth twists. “Say it then.” You dare him.
“Do you really move on that fast?” It spills out before he can put a filter over his mouth, and your eyebrows raise, mouth dropping open.
“Seriously? You’re jealous? I thought you didn’t fucking care.” You snap. “Move.” When you pass him, he catches your shoulder.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Damn right.” You pull away, scrambling to fit your key into the lock.
“Please, just hold on for a second.” Tom pleads. Your brain tells you to go inside and shut him out, but your heart hurts and reminds you of how much you love him, how he makes you laugh, and the way his eyes soften when he looks at you. Resignedly, you wait, but you don’t look at him. He lets out a breath. “Maybe I am.”
“Maybe you’re what?”
“Jealous.” The word is barely decipherable.
You turn. “I thought you -
His head is shaking before you finish talking. A small seed of hope blooms in your stomach. “You’ve been avoiding me.” He says quietly. “And I don’t know how it took that to make me realize how…how I feel.” Your lips press together, the beginnings of a smile suppressed as he continues with difficulty. “I…I, I, um, I like you. Too. I like you too. Maybe even more than like.” Tom exhales loudly. “That was hard.”
Even though you enjoy watching him squirm, you wrap your arms around him, effectively cutting off whatever he was going to say next, an unbelievable amount of happiness practically glowing in your eyes. Tom’s arms come around you tentatively, then more firmly, pressing you against his chest.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers into your shoulder.
“You’re forgiven.” You pull back, and there’s a spark of something in the air when you lean forward again, something new blossoming as your lips find his.
a spell jar by yours truly, also known as the “don’t touch me don’t look at me don’t talk to me” spell! great for autistic witches, witches who experience sensory overload, witches with social anxiety, and other nd witches who want people to leave them the hell alone.
you’ll need: - a tiny jar (this is something you’ll be carrying around with you) - a white candle - strawberry leaves - juniper berries - black salt - fern seeds - little bits of metal wire/tiny nails/blackberry thorns/anything sharp and pointy - crystals to charge: i used clear quartz, amethyst, fire agate, smoky quartz, angelite and bloodstone, but you can use things like carnelian, pyrite, cross stone, jasper, jade, etc
light your white candle. mix your ingredients and pour them into your spell jar. focus your energy on building your barricade. each ingredient is one more part of the wall between you and the things you want to keep away. when your jar is full, cork it and seal it with the white wax. you can use whatever incantation you like at this point; personally i used les mis lyrics while finishing my barricade.
charge your barricade with your crystals. i also left mine in moonlight overnight. enjoy, you are now untouchable!
Hey! Im completely obsessed with your writing atm i was wondering if you do requests at all? If so could i please request a really fluffy fic about cuddling with negan?
Hiii, If you’re still taking requests, could I please request one where the reader is one of Negan’s wives (pref. his fave wife! XD) and she finds out she’s pregnant, but she’s worried about his reaction and she starts avoiding him as best she can until he finally manages to get her alone and make her tell him what’s going on, and it has a fluffy/happy ending? Thank you!!
Warnings: No warnings here, just pure Negan fluff!
Note: I hope the anons who requested this don’t mind that I combined their ideas! I thought the requests were pretty similar so there’s that. Also, I apologize because I feel shitty about this work. But I do hope y’all enjoy some wholesome fluff with our man, Negan. xo
Those two, red lines were enough to send you into an emotional outburst for the first time ever. Having a baby was something you’ve always dreamt about, hell, raising a family of your own had always been on your mind. But that was all in the past when the world was perfect with no dead people walking around. Bringing a baby into this kind of world wasn’t your dream come true nor was it even a nightmare. It was your present, your reality, and it scared you because there was no running away from the truth.
If there was someone who could run away from it, it’d probably be Negan.
After two months of constantly trying to get in contact with Harry, Y/N thought this was his way of saying goodbye. As Y/N was placing pictures of her and Harry into a box, she laughed to herself. Only for a break, he said. This is a way to bring us closer together again. You sighed and put the box filled with memories of Harry down onto your desk. After accepting defeat that Harry was going his own way and pursuing his dreams, Y/N thought it was best to move on as well. She stopped talking to his family. Anne and Gemma were sweet after Harry left on tour. Constantly checking up on her and seeing if they could help her in any way possible. Anne even stopped by her apartment and brought her homemade brownies that Y/N loved so much. Y/N felt guilty for cutting them out of her life but she felt like it wasn’t fair to keep talking to them. She didn’t want them to feel as if they had to walk around egg shells around her. She also didn’t want them to judge Harry for what happened between them. She would never want that. And to be honest with herself, she felt as though if she remained in contact with them, it wasn’t fair for Harry. It was his family. No matter how much they treated you like you were a part of it.
You plopped down onto your bed and placed your arms on top of your eyes. All of a sudden your phone started to ring next to you. “Hello?”
“Y/N! How you holding up?” Your best friend, Lucy, was by your side 24/7 during the whole ordeal. She agreed with you when you said the break was a stupid thing for Harry to suggest. She agreed with you when you were constantly calling Harry a dick for avoiding all of your calls (She even left a couple voicemails to him making sure he knew how much of an ass he was). She even agreed with you when you said moving on from him was going to be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do. You were together for years. You can’t just forget about the good times you’ve had together. It was going to be hard, but not impossible, she would tell you.
“Hey Luce. I’m fine, yeah.” you sighed into the phone.
Lucy could tell you were exhausted. It was an exhausting thing to do; trying to reach out to someone, constantly being rejected, having to pack his things, having to accept that you were no matter part of something that you would thought was going to last forever. “I’m not going to suggest going out again, promise. Just thought you might want some girl time. Clear your head for a little while.”
You sat up slowly and bit your lip while looking at the box filled with Harry memorabilia across the room. “Actually…Let’s do it. That sounds perfect right now. I just have to drop something off first..”
Harry finally had a little break during his tour. Normally he would just stay in LA rather than going back to cold, rainy London but he couldn’t bring himself to stay at that house.
Harry cheated on you in that house. Wait. Is it cheating? he thought. Technically you guys were on break. Harry tried telling himself that but it didn’t stop his guilt flooding in his heart.
Currently Harry was sitting in a cab driving him back to his London apartment. He was scared being back home. How silly he thought. How silly of a grown man to be scared of the city. He was scared because he knew that being back home meant having to face you. He was the one that suggested a break but he would’ve never thought it would progress this long. He also knew how wrong it was to not communicate with you during the break. Especially because your calls and texts were nothing but loving to him.
I miss you more and more each day.
I watched a video of you performing Kiwi in LA. You were so good, baby!
I hope you’re not forgetting to take your vitamins, you silly boy.
Harry wanted to say something. He wanted to call you on the first night of his tour. He wanted to tell you how nervous he was. He wanted you to assure him he was amazing and that everything he did people were going to love but he couldn’t bring himself to dial your phone number.
He couldn’t do anything but just read your texts and ignore them simply because he was a coward.
That’s why he slept with that random woman. Because he was a coward. Instead of facing his problems, he added to the fire. After the woman left his house the next morning, Harry sobbed while holding a pillow against his chest. He pretended it was you and whispered how sorry he was for kissing someone that wasn’t you.
The cab halted to a stop in front of Harry’s apartment building. Harry sighed and thanked the man before hurrying inside.
You set the box on top of the counter. “Hey Gale. How are you today?” You softly smiled while looking at the doorman in front of you.
Gale looked up at you, “Doing alright. What can I do for you, Y/N?” Constantly being at Harry’s apartment, the people in charge of the building started taking a liking to you.
“Just need to drop some things off at Harry’s place. Mind if I head on up?” You asked while glancing inside the box.
“Sure. But looks like he’s coming in right now. Go on up with him” Gale smiled and looked behind you at the front entrance.
You instantly froze. What the hell was he doing back? Was it the 15th already? You knew that he had a break during the tour but you didn’t think he would come back home. Crap. Did he see me yet? Maybe I can just go hide behind the-
You closed your eyes and cursed at yourself for not having the ability to turn invisible.
You turned around slowly and avoided eye contact with the man that broke your heart a million times these past two months, “I dropped off your things.”
You quickly started to walk away but was stopped when Harry grabbed your arm softly. “Love, wait please. I haven’t seen you properly in two months. Let me explain-”
This time you scoffed. Suddenly something in your brain shifted. Instead of feeling sad and blaming yourself for what happened between you and Harry, you were furious. You harshly pulled your arm away and jabbed your finger into his chest, “How dare you. You don’t talk to me for months and waltz in like nothing’s wrong. Go to hell, Harry.” You quickly turned back around and stormed off.
Harry quickly dropped his duffel bag he was carrying and ran in front of you. “Love, please-”
“Stop calling me that!” You yelled while walking away.
“Y/N stop!” Harry screamed while grabbing you yet again. “Please just hear me out!”
“What! What could you possibly say!” Y/N screamed back at him while trying to pry his hands off her.
Harry started to notice people stopping to see who was yelling in the middle of the lobby. “Please..Please just come up to my place. Please, let’s just talk.”
Y/N looked around and began to notice the stares as well. You sighed. Might as well end it officially tonight and get your stuff back. "Fine.“ You shook Harry off and began walking to the elevators.
Harry quickly picked up his bag and the box you left on the front desk and followed you.
The elevator ride up was filled with silence. Harry was thinking of what he could possibly say to make things alright with you guys while you were thinking of how exhausted you were.
I need a drink the both of of you thought.
What felt like a lifetime for you and the shortest two minutes to Harry, the elevator finally stopped at Harry’s floor.
You crossed your arms and stepped out while Harry rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants and stepped out as well.
Harry pulled out his keys and shakily tried unlocking the door. Wondering what was taking him so long to open the door, you then noticed how much he was shaking and placed your hands on top of his. "Let me..” you mumbled quietly. Harry nodded quickly and gave you the key. You unlocked the door and stepped inside his apartment. Slowly you walked over to his couch and sat down, looking down at your fingers.
Harry shut the door and walked in front of you. He stopped and stared at you. This was the first time in two months that he’s seen you. You had your hair in a ponytail and weren’t wearing any makeup. God, you looked so beautiful. Harry knelt down in front of you and placed his finger on your chin so you would look at him, properly. “I missed you so much, beautiful.”
You stared into his eyes, the anger quickly fading and the sadness you felt for the past two months came rushing back. “Please don’t say that.”
Harry sat next to you and grabbed your hands, “No. I mean it. I’m so sorry, lovely.”
You looked down at your fingers that were now intertwined with his. “If you missed me as much as you said you did..Why did you leave so suddenly. Why did you leave things the way you did.”
Harry sighed out, “I was scared that I would say something that would make things harder than they already were. We were already fighting so much and when we agreed to the break, we were already so vulnerable. I was scared, love.”
“I was scared too! But I still tried to make things somewhat better! I reached out to you! I made the effort! You didn’t!” You argued while tears brimmed your eyes. “I know! I just didn’t know what to do!” Harry could never come up with an excuse for his behavior. You did make an effort in the relationship but he never did. He let the negative thoughts conquer his mind and that got in the way of your relationship.
The both of you stayed silent. It was confusing. Y/N thought it was the end of the two of you but somehow, sitting next to him with his hands intertwined with yours, you didn’t want things to end.
Suddenly Harry whispered, “I slept with someone.”
You quickly looked at him and pulled your hand away. Harry visibly winced, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, love!”
“What? Is that..Is that why you wouldn’t speak to me? You were afraid I would find out?” You whispered.
“Yes..No..Yes.” Harry argued with himself, “We were already in a bad place when I left for tour and that just made it harder..”
“Harry, I-“ You began but Harry interrupted you, “Love, I will never forgive myself. I ruined our relationship in the worst way I possibly could but please..please don’t give up on me. I’ll make it up to you everyday. I’ll cancel my tour. Move in with me. Please, I’ll make it up to you.”
Y/N shook her head. Right from the beginning, she knew that when they were taking a break from their relationship, she knew something like this would happen.
“It’s best if we broke up.” You whispered.
Harry shook his head quickly and constantly. “No. No. We’re going to get past this. But no. We can’t break up. We’re getting married. love. We’re going to be with each other for the rest of our lives. We can’t do that if we’re broken up!” Harry knew he was sounding like a maniac but when it came to you, he was insanely in love with you. He made a mistake but you guys will be able to get over it. You guys were the couple everyone admired. Everyone was envious of your relationship. If you guys couldn’t make things work, what does that say about love?
“We’ve been apart for months. Even before the break..we were constantly fighting. The simplest things, we fought about. You just sleeping with someone else..It just shows that maybe we really aren’t meant to be..” You sighed. You climbed onto Harry’s lap and looked into his eyes, “Maybe the fire blew out a long time ago. We were going to end sooner or later.” Harry stared into your eyes that were filled with nothing but tears and hurt. “I refuse to believe that. We’re meant for each other.”
This time Y/N shook her head. “I’ll always love you, Harry. But I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted with the fighting and not to mention you’re still on tour. And..after this, I couldn’t even imagine myself for forgiving you for sleeping with some random girl.”
Harry buried his face into the crook of your neck. He was exhausted as well. He was tired of the fights and the accusations. But he didn’t want things to end. He knew in his heart that you guys were meant to be together. But he couldn’t let the relationship if you couldn’t forgive you. He knew that whenever he looks into your eyes, he’s just going to remember the mistake that he made. Every time he’s going to look into your eyes, he’s going to remember how heartbroken they looked when he confessed his mistake. “Okay..”
You pulled Harry closer together to you. This was the last time you would be able to hold him like this. This was goodbye.
and that’s it! thank you guys again so much for reading! honestly the feedback on part 2 was so amazing that i just couldn’t wait to write part 3! let me know what you guys think! and remember, requests are always open!