look at the bag under my eye at the top right

the-queen-sees-all  asked:

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

-

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

-

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

-

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

-

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

-

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

-

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

-

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

-

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

-

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

-

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

Writing is Hard, part 6: SEX

Summary: Dean and the reader have sex. Finally. FINALLY.

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 4250ish

A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. And the quotes are from my own Faking It series, in case anyone was curious. Hope you enjoy! (Sorry, tag list is closed!) XOXO


“You knew he didn’t quite understand why you found it so hot, but Dean had never seen himself leaning over the engine in a tight, sweaty t-shirt, hands and forearms covered in grease as he worked.”

Dean’s outside working on the Impala, and you’re reading fics about just that. Apparently, Dean working on the Impala is the hottest thing to ever grace the fandom (aside from his lips…and his green eyes…and his cocky swagger that is really just hiding adorable and unnecessary insecurity…and Jesus, these people are thorough), and you’re curious. In your actual experience with Dean, working on the Impala is just a nuisance. You have to wait longer to get on the road, Dean takes forever to scrub himself clean afterward, and for the next few hours, everything smells like metal and oil covered up by motel soap. Why do people find that so hot?

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The Guest House

Originally posted by beui


Description: Yoongi the hostel owner slowly develops a rapport with a girl and her friends that keep visiting.  Maybe a bit of a flirtatious one.  Maybe even a little crush.  One night he gets protective on a date gone bad and it leads to smut.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut (M)

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: So, basically, this is based off an experience I had last week. Not the smut part (ughhhhh), but the whole hostel owner coming to save the day when this dude just wouldn’t get the hint and leave. I relayed the experience to @ellieljade , because I needed her to die with me, and we both decided it should be used for smut fuel. Like grown adults. 

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Study and Going Steady - Jeff Atkins Smut

Jeff Atkins x reader

Request: I was wondering if you could do a smut on Jeff Atkins about y/n coming to his house while his parents are away and we want to “Study” but things go another certain way

WARNINGS: Fluff, smut, cursing

Originally posted by knightlley

“I’m heading out now mom!” I scream as I head for the door.

“Okay hun, text me when you get to his house, love you!”

I say a quick love you too as I lock the door and jog to my car. I’m happy cause I’m staying the night at my boyfriend Jeff’s house. His first game can be next Friday if he passes his upcoming test so I promised him I will help him study before we binge watch cringy romance movies. As I pulled into his car, I noticed his parents car isn’t there. I forgot they went away on a business trip for the weekend. I knock on the door and as soon as it opens I’m welcomed by his lips.

“Hey beautiful” he smiles.

“Hello hunnybun” I joke as I walk into his living room.

“Oh gosh, let me stick to the cute names” he laughs as he jumps on the couch.

“Whatever you say boo bear” I smile as I sit down and put my legs on his lap. 

“Did you bring everything for the night?”

“Yep textbooks, pencils, pajamas, charger, hair ties, underw-”

“You don’t have to tell me everything babe” he laughs

“Yeah yeah when do you want to start studying?”

“Uh how about you go upstairs change into your pjs while I get us some food then we can start.”

 I nod my head and take my bag to his room. He has such a modest, but boyish room. I change into my clothes, purposely bringing the tight shorts and tank top Jeff loves so much. I throw my hair in a messy ponytail and get our books out.

“So I brought some classic chips and popco-”

He stopped and made no effort to hide the fact that he was staring right at my ass. That made me blush as I tried to pull down the already revealing shorts.

“And y-you expect us to study with you wearing that?”

“Wearing what?” I ask innocently as I turn away from him to put the rest of the books on the bed. I then felt his breath behind me as he grabbed my waist and pulled my back towards him. 

“This” He said and started kissing my neck and went from my waist to my breast, knowing I don’t wear a bra to bed. A light moan escaped my mouth as I put my hands over his. I felt him smirk on my neck and I almost forgot what we were suppose to do.

“Babe babe babe” I squirm from his grip as I turn to face him and peck his lip. 

“I love you, but we really need to study so I can cheer you on at Friday’s game”

he sighed, but he knew I was right. “Fine fine, but your missing out” he jokes as he slaps my butt. 

_____________________________________________________________

“Jeff pay attention!”

“I am babe I swear”

“Which president wrote the Declaration of Independence then?”

“Um.. Abraham Jefferson?”

“Yeah, no this studying is over, I hope your going to enjoy watching the game on the bleachers with me.” I start closing our books and Jeff grabbed my hands.

“I’m sorry babe, I just can’t stop looking at you that’s all, it’s easy for Jensen to tutor me because he isn’t my hot girlfriend.”

“Shall I dress up like Clay then?”

“No no no” he laughs.

“Then what do you want to do?”

he bits his lip and looks at me up and down as he climbs on top of me. he leans down to my ear and kisses it, “you” he whispers.

I can’t help but moan at how sexy that sounded and push him down onto the bed. I attack his mouth, not that he had a problem. He grab my thighs and squeeze them. I wrap my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. his hands travel to my butt as his slides his hands inside my shorts. I rub against his pants and start to feel his bulge coming on. He starts groaning and I smile against his lips. He stops kissing only to remove our shirts and turn me over. He starts to slowly kiss my neck, knowing I hate it.

“Jeff stop teasing” I wine.

“Sorry baby” he smirks.

He started to harshly suck on my sweet spot and I moan into his neck. He then goes to one of my breast and starts sucking on my nipple while massaging the other and then switching. I squirm under him, grabbing his brown hair just wanting to feel him already.

“Babe, I want you already” I wine

“In just a second” he smiles as his kisses travel to my thighs. he pulls my shorts down painfully slow, making me a groaning mess. he laughs at my reaction and comes back up to kiss me. I feel vulnerable being completely naked under him so I tug on his sweats so he gets the idea which he does. He pulls them down and went back to sweetly kissing me. I then feel his hands go in between my legs and I suck in my breathe. He circles his fingers around my clit and I try hard not to moan.

“Oh my go- Jeff!”

he bits his lip as he watches me come undone under him. I buckle my hips into his fingers and just need to feel him. 

“Jeff please..” I whimper with my eyes a shut. 

He doesn’t make me ask again as he grabs one of his condoms from inside his nightstand and slide it on. I can’t help but stare at his huge member and grab it in my hand, knowing he likes me to put it towards my entrance. He groans from my touch and kisses me passionately. He positions himself and stops kissing to look at me.

“Are you ready babe?”

I smile at him for always asking before he did anything. I nod my head and he slowly pushes himself into me. I moan and grab his arm as he stretches me. When he’s all the way in, he stops so I can adjust to him. He starts to slowly thrust into me and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“Fu-Jeff- my god” I moan. He takes my moans as his que to go faster. He takes my legs and wraps them around his waist as he starts quickly thrusting to me. I start to lose air from his speed. I dig my nails to his back and come close to almost screaming.

“Jeeeeeff! Fuck! my gosh!!” He puts one off my legs on his shoulder to deepen himself and goes faster. I moan with every pound he gives me. He’s a groaning mess as he whispers curse words with sweat coming down his forehead. His grip on my waist tightens as his thrust become more sloppy. 

“Babe I-I’m about to-”

I moan over his words as his thrust still didn’t slow down, but only got faster. I felt my stomach tighten as now both of my legs are over Jeff’s shoulders, feeling all of him. 

“Je- I c-can’t” before I can finish I came undone under him.

“Fuck y/n” his thrusts got sloppier as he rode out his high, putting my legs down and kissing my forehead. he slid out of me and collapsed onto the bed next to me. Both of us breathing hard, he turned over so that he was facing towards me and wrapped his arms around my bare torso. He started tracing small circles on my side and pecked my lips.

“If this is whats gonna happen every time we study, I don’t mind sitting on the bleachers” he lazily smiles.

“Well I’m not, your playing next game so text Clay”

“Fine, later” he sighs. 

He looks in my eyes and smiles “I love you babe”

“I love you too munchkin” I smile

“What did I say with the names!”

Letterman

Originally posted by dailycwriverdale

A/N: I fought through some wicked writer’s block for this (apologies in advance for if it’s not great) so I hope I can get properly back on track now I’ve forced myself out of my rut 

Request: Archie x River vixen!reader where they make out in Freds truck and he catches them.

Word Count: 1,682

Warnings:There’s some heavy duty smooching involved.

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Operation Cobra-Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x reader
Description: reader is in love with Jughead. Jughead is with Betty.
Warnings: SAD SAD SAD ANGST I’m on my way to the hospital to take my mom and I was feeling this after seeing a spoiler from 1x06 sigh
THIS HAS 4,274 WORDS AND IT TOOK ME FOUR DAYS CAN YOU BELIEVE
—————————

I watched it happen from the very beginning. I noticed the very first time Jughead looked at her differently, the very first time he blushed when she complimented him, the very first time Jughead showed signs of jealousy when Trevor had asked her out. I watched it all unfold from the very beginning.
When Jughead told me he and Betty kissed, I did my best to be the extremely supportive best friend, convincing him to show the pretty blonde he was interested in her. When he did, I helped him plan the entire date out, from where to when, to picking his outfit out for him since he was absolutely helpless when it came to dating. I smoothed out the shoulders of his shirt, fixed his beanie, and sent him on his way.

That night, when he came back to my house to replay all the highlights of his date, he had a smile on his face almost the entire time. It was something I had only seen a handful of times, so even though my heart was breaking, I was still happy that something made him smile this big, even if it wasn’t with me.
When Jughead and Betty started dating, I began to slowly lose my best friend. He and Betty were always going together on the “super sleuth” cases, and I was hardly ever invited despite being the graphic designer and editor for The Blue and Gold. It didn’t bother me though, because I figured I would just see Jughead at Pop’s. I was wrong.

Jughead and Betty liked their alone time. They hardly ever invited us to hang out with them, and when we did, the rest of us felt like we were intruding. If I did have any alone time with Jug, his nose was in his phone, texting Betty the whole time. As supportive as I tried to be for the both of them, I was tired of pretending. All I ever did was pretend.

I walked in to the blue and gold after school, the room vacant. Jughead had probably waited for Betty outside of her history class so they could walk together to the newsroom; he used to do that with me all the time.
I sighed, sitting down at one of the seats in the room and pulling out my laptop. I set it on the desk and began designing the cover for this week’s newspaper.

Eventually, Jughead and Betty showed up, not even noticing I had been in the room. They were chatting about something, both blushing and bumping each other playfully. I mentally rolled my eyes and kept my nose in my laptop, not wanting to watch them be all lovey-dovey or whatever. A minute passed, which turned in to five, and then ten, and then fifteen, and by this time I was beyond upset. Neither had said a word to me at all.

I finished the designs for the paper and quietly closed my laptop, zipping open my bag and stuffing it in before lifting it over my shoulder. I stood up, my chair emitting a sharp noise as the heel of the object scraped against the old tile floor. Jughead and Betty’s heads turned at the sound, watching me push my chair back in.

“Oh my gosh, y/n! When did you come in?” Betty asked. I know she didn’t mean it in a rude way whatsoever, she was one of my best friends, but it angered me. Deciding to keep my anger bottled in, I acted like I didn’t hear her, making my way towards the door of the classroom. I walked out, making my way down the hall.

“Y/n! Wait!” Jughead called my name, and a hand grabbed my shoulder, turning me around.

“What’s wrong?” Jughead inquired, his hand sliding down my arm to go to my wrist. I yanked my body back lightly, looking at him in surprise and disgust.

What’s wrong?” I repeated, my tone of voice obviously showing signs of outrage at this point. “Jughead, if you don’t know what’s wrong right now, then I guess we aren’t as close as I thought we were.” I turned away from him, walking down the hallway again.

Jughead grabbed my shoulder again, turning me and grabbing my hand.
“Don’t say that.” Jughead spoke softly, his jaw clenching.

Really? Jughead, you did not notice I was in the room for fifteen minutes! You did not become aware of my presence in the slightest! And that isn’t even the first time!” I screamed, shoving him away from me harshly. Jughead stumbled back, frozen in shock by what I had just done.

“You don’t even care about me anymore! I don’t even exist to you!” My fingers dug in to my palms as I yelled at him.

“So yeah, we aren’t as close as I thought we were. In fact, I’ve never been farther apart from you.” I turned, walking away again.

“y/n!“ Jughead called my name and I stopped.

"Don’t, Jughead.” I cut him off, turning to face him one more time. “For somebody who claims to be an amazing observer, you sure are pretty damn oblivious.” I walked down the hallway of the empty school, turning a corner and making my way home.

——————————————————-

It was 5:39 when my phone rang, interrupting me from my moping over Jughead and Betty. I had stayed home from school the past few days, blaming it on how “sick” I had been feeling, which was bullshit, but only I knew it was bullshit. Or so I thought.

“Hey Ronnie.” I answered the phone.” Now’s not a good time- “

“Too fucking bad, princess. Get your ass up, I’m here.” I heard a knock at my door downstairs and Veronica hung up. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around me, rubbing at my nose a bit to make it look red and grabbed a box of tissues. I wadded a couple up and threw them in the trash so my fake sick story would still be believable.

I padded downstairs slowly, hearing the incessant knocking and ringing of my doorbell. I took a deep breath before answering the door. There stood one of my best friends, hands on her hips and an irritated look on her face.

“Alright, time to stop moping and start moving on.” The black-haired girl stepped in to my house, closing the door and pointing upstairs.

“Who said I was moping?” I fired back, dragging myself up the stairs.

“Oh, come on y/n! You may be able to fool Archie, Betty, Jughead, and the rest of the entire world, but you can’t fool me. I know you aren’t sick, I know you and Jughead fought, I know you like Jughead. Its written all over you!” Veronica flung open the door to my room and marched to my closet, digging through it like a wild dog.” It’s kinda sick, actually. You look at him with literal heart eyes.Honestly, I would have gone for somebody a little more chiseled, but hey, we all got our own kinks- “

“Ronnie.” I cut off her incessant rambling, “Why are you knee-deep in my clothes?”

“Because, sweetheart.” Ronnie stuck her head out of my closet.” There’s a party tonight, and Jughead and my future wife are going, and we are going to show those two idiots who they really belong with.” Ronnie went back in to my closet, holding up numerous amounts of dresses, skirts, and eye-catching tops.

“Jughead is going to a party?” I queried, unconvinced.

“Yeah, it’s a thing with the cheerleaders at Cheryl’s, an Jughead is going to be the ‘supportive boyfriend’ or whatever.” Veronica scoffed at her own words, adding mocking quotations with her fingers before going back to digging in my closet.

“They’re probably going for more clues about Jason.” I mumbled, my mind drifting away a bit.

“For someone who only wears like, 4 outfits, you sure do have a lot of clothes.” Ronnie commented, pulling out a dress and examining it before hanging it back up.

“My mom tries.” I sighed, flopping back down on the bed.

“Oh, no you don’t. Get your happy ass up and get in the shower. You look terrible, which is weird for me, because you usually look incredibly fuckable.”

“Wow, thanks Ronnie.” I spat back, sarcasm laced in my tone. I got up and grabbed a towel from my drawer, walking in to my bathroom and taking a quick shower. I shaved my legs, as demanded instructed by my friend, and Ronnie did my makeup and hair, curling it and putting it up in a pretty half-do. I admired Ronnie’s work, hardly even being able to connect this me with the person that sat in my bed this morning, dark circles under her eyes and her hair in a knotty bun. She had also found a long sleeved black dress that came down to my knees, tucked away in my closet somewhere

Ronnie had brought over a dress for herself to change in to, and slipped on her shoes. She looked up and our eyes met in the mirror, a distressed look on my face.

“Listen, tonight is for us, okay?” Ronnie rested her hand on my shoulders, turning my chair so I faced her.” I’ve been sitting around and moping too, trust me, but we shouldn’t mope. We deserve so much better, alright? So, let’s just go out and have fun. We deserve that much, alright?” Ronnie held out her hand and I took it, pulling myself up and letting my arms go around her neck to embrace her. We both grabbed our purses and linked arms before walking down the stairs of my house and out my door.
——————————————————–
“Ronnie, I don’t think I can do this.” I stood at the front door of the house, my heart racing.” I really can’t do this.” I turned away from the building, wringing my hands out in front of me.” I’ve been doing it for so long, and I don’t think I can pretend any more, and- “

“Y/n!” Ronnie grabbed my hands, holing them in between hers.” You can do this, ok? You’re y/n freaking l/n!! You are one of the strongest women I know, and you are fierce! You can’t let Jughead, or Betty, or anyone get to you! Don’t let them ruin your moment, ok? Because you are looking hot as hell- “Ronnie lifted one of my hands, twirling me in front of her, and I giggled- “And I’ll be damned if I let you let them mess with that.” I hugged Ronnie tightly before she linked my arm with hers and we walked in to the Blossom mansion.

The music wasn’t too loud, which was a kind gesture for my sensitive ears. Cheryl had already roped together some kids for a game of spin the bottle, and I had spotted Archie, Betty, and Jughead near a corner of the room. Ronnie had already gotten me away from the sight, pulling me to the kitchen. I only grabbed a bottle of sweet tea, ignoring the alcohol that lined the counter. Veronica did as well, unsurprisingly. Veronica was a very old-school classy person. If she did drink, it was usually only one glass, and something very light, as I had found out one night that I had slept over at her house.

“There’s my girls!” Kevin wrapped each arm around Veronica and I’s shoulders. “Operation ‘avoid Jughead and Betty because they’re little whores who have been ignoring us to suck each other’s faces’ has commenced!” I laughed at Kevin, giving him a weird look for the name he had chosen.

“Lets just call it Operation Cobra, you know, for short.” Veronica suggested.The three of us made our way to the middle of the dance floor ignoring our other friends. It was obvious Veronica was laughing and talking at a bit of a higher volume, as well as being extra touchy and flirty to get the attention of our friends. I didn’t so much as glance at Jughead, because I knew that once I did, it was game over, and I would be running home and hiding under my covers.
After a little while, I went to find a quiet place in the house, wanting to be alone. Parties weren’t really my thing, so I didn’t understand why I even agreed to go, but to be fair I was having a nice time

I sat on Cheryl’s back porch, my legs swinging off the edge as I looked out at her backyard. The graveyard with all her relatives didn’t really help boost my happiness, but at least I had gotten away from the incessant bass drops the music was giving off.

“Thought you were sick.” I turned my head to see Jughead leaning against the wall, legs and arms both crossed. My heart started beating wildly and I felt a lump in my throat.

“Thought you didn’t like parties.” I retorted, turning my head back around to face away from him.

“Touché.” I felt Jughead’s presence as he sat down next to me, our thighs brushing together. For a couple minutes, I didn’t say anything, scared that if I did I would burst in to tears.

“You look really, uh, nice tonight.” Jughead looked me up and down and I raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, not that you don’t look nice all the time, because you do.” Jughead scratched the back of his neck.” Because you know, you’re really beautiful, but you already know that I think that, because you know, you’re my best friend, and uh… yeah.” Jughead looked away

“You know, I’m not a mind reader.” Jughead chuckled lightly. I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I did my best to ignore him, crossing my arms and keeping my gaze away from his.

“Look- “Jughead gulped audibly, hesitating before lifting his hand and resting it on my shoulder.” I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, or what you’re dealing with, but I’m here for you- “

Really? Are you really “here for me?” I shrugged his hand off my shoulder, moving to stand up. I was furious at this point.” Jughead, I have talked to you maybe a handful of times since you and Betty started dating! You have cancelled every single one of our plans since then! Every time we’re together working on the blue and gold, you and Betty hardly even notice I’m in the room! – “

My hands went to my temples as I slowly paced back and forth on the deck of the porch. Jughead now stood in front of me, one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans and the other running his hand down his face in a frustrated motion.

“And maybe I wouldn’t have been so angry about it, if you would have at least showed any sort of remorse, but you don’t! You don’t apologize, you don’t even text me in advance to let me know, you keep me sitting at Pop’s for hours, and you never even show up! I don’t even know why I still do it? What’s the point?” I began to walk past him but jughead held his arm out, stopping me from leaving. His hand grabbed my hip, turning me to face him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I really am- “

“No you aren’t, Jughead! You aren’t sorry!” I pushed him away from me.” You aren’t sorry! If you were really ‘sorry’, you would have been there for me! You wouldn’t have skipped out on our plans! You wouldn’t have left me waiting all the time! Or you would have at least texted me to tell me you wouldn’t make it! Or even apologize!” I shoved my index finger against his chest, pushing him away from me once more.” But you don’t! You don’t apologize, or even feel any remorse about it, because all you care about is yourself! You don’t care about the consequences of the choices you make, because it doesn’t hurt you!” I screamed, tears streaming down my face as I ended my rant. Jughead had a shocked face on his look, as if he was surprised that I had just stood up for myself. I couldn’t blame him. All I ever did was let people use me as their personal door mat. I didn’t want to be that person anymore.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, I do care about you, it’s just, I- “

“Save it, Jughead!” I shoved past him, running back in to the house and out the front door. I heard calls from my best friend and turned around to see Veronica and Kevin.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Veronica stood in front of me, blocking me from walking down the path towards the gate to leave Cheryl’s home. Her hands wrapped around my arms, stopping me from moving.” What’s wrong, what happened?”

“What do you think happened, Ronnie?” I spoke loudly, my hands moving wildly in front of me.” Jughead is an idiot! That’s what happened!” Kevin now stood beside Ronnie, and her hands went to my face, wiping away the tears. “I’m in love with a fucking idiot! That’s what happened!”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Veronica hugged me tightly.

“He doesn’t care, Ronnie. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he hurt me, or anything. It doesn’t matter.” I moved to look at her again.” Why do I have to be in love with him? It could have been anybody else! Why him?”

“I don’t know, honey, he’s a jerk, I don’t know why he- “Ronnie cut herself off, staring off behind me. I turned around to see Jughead standing ten feet away, arms at his sides and his lips parted slightly.

“Did you say you’re in love with me?” Jughead looked at me with wide eyes, waiting for an answer. I shook my head, diving between Ronnie and Kevin and running towards the gate. Jughead began to follow me, but Kevin and Ronnie held him back, letting me slip away.
————————————————–
I was halfway down the trek to my house when I passed by the Riverdale park. I sighed, steering off the sidewalk and towards the big dome-shaped jungle gym. I was just going to mope at home anyways, so I wasn’t in a hurry to get there.

I dropped my heels to the ground next to me, swinging my purse over my shoulder and climbing up to the top. I sat down in the middle, the solid platform cold against my skin. I didn’t care though. I pulled out my phone, ignoring any notifications I had. I checked Instagram, scrolling through Jughead’s account. I switched over to Betty’s, seeing multiple photos of her and Jughead. I didn’t exactly know why I was forcing myself to look at these, but I was.

I shut my phone off, wrapping my arms around my body. I hadn’t brought a jacket, another thing to beat myself up over. I looked around the park, my eyes eventually catching someone else’s. Jughead.

“What are you doing up there?” Jughead looked up at me, his hands in his pockets.

“I like it up here.” I defended.

“Can you come down?” Jughead asked me.

“No.” I protested.

“Then I’m coming up.” Jughead sighed, beginning to climb the structure. I scrambled to grab my purse, trying to get off as fast as I could, but it was too late. Jughead had climbed up, grabbing the bars on each side of my body and hovering so my lower body was trapped under his. He looked up at me, his chest heaving from climbing up as fast as he could, mixed with the sting of the cold weather. Our breaths could be seen in the winter air, mixing with each other and disappearing. I stared at Jughead, waiting for him to say something.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh yeah, hold on. Let me ruin my closest friendship real quick by telling him I have super hardcore feelings for him when he’s dating someone else!” I spat sarcastically.

“Ok, that’s fair.”

“Whatever, Jughead, just let me out.” I started to shuffle under his body, planning to duck under his arm, but he blocked me, climbing farther up. We were now eye level, his face only inches from mine. Jughead stared at me, not saying anything.

“Are you gonna say something?” I asked him, my eyes flickering between his.

“I don’t know what to say.” Jughead admitted. I rolled my eyes, pushing him so I could get out from under him. Apparently, I had pushed too hard, because next thing I knew, the boy lost his balance, stumbling off the bars and falling in to the grass on his back. I gasped, shouting his name before climbing down quickly and jumping off the last few bars.

“Jughead! Are you ok!” Jughead groaned in response, sitting up and rubbing his head. I dropped on to my knees beside him, my shoulders on his hands.

“Peachy.” He answered sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, standing up and brushing the dirt off my dress.

“Whatever, I’m going home- “

“Did you know Veronica liked Betty?” I spun around, looking at Jughead.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I didn’t.” Jughead sighed, standing up. “And Veronica told her. Turns out, a big part of the reason Betty was dating me was to try and get over her, and convince herself she wasn’t gay. When Ronnie told her, she broke it off with me.” Jughead chuckled half-heartedly.

“Jug, I’m sorry.” Sympathy was laced in my voice. I stepped back toward him, patting his shoulder with my hand.

“It’s ok, really. I was dating her for kind of the same reason as well.” Jughead looked up at me, his eyes locking with mine.” You see, there’s this girl that I really like, and she’s been my best friend for quite a while.” My breath hitched in my throat, my hand leaving Jughead’s shoulder.” I’ve been kind of a shit friend to her, and I haven’t really been hanging out with her, more like avoiding her. It’s a really shitty thing to do, and I feel, like, really, really shitty about it.”

“Jughead, I, I can’t…” I turned back towards the dome jungle gym, walking towards my shoes. I felt Jughead’s hand on my shoulder and then my back was against the monkey bars, my body trapped by Jughead’s.

“I didn’t want to lose you.” Jughead admitted.” You’re everything to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. When I started dating Betty, I thought it would help me get over you, and then I could stop feeling the way I felt.” Jughead looked me in the eyes, his face no more than a few inches away from mine once again.” I watched what happened to my parents, and yours. They were just like us. They were best friends, and…” Jughead hung his head, cutting off his own words.

“Jughead.” I reached my hands up to cup his face, lifting his head to look at me.” We aren’t our parents, ok?” My thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen down his face. Jughead smiled, his eyes flickering down to my lips, and mine doing the same.

“I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you too.” I laughed lightly, my arms wrapping around his neck. Jughead’s arms went to my waist, pulling me flush in to his body before he pressed his lips to mine. I sighed in to the kiss, feeling relief that Jughead felt the same way about me as I did him.

Jughead bit gently at my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he broke the kiss. I giggled, burying my face in to the crook of Jughead’s neck.
—————————————————–
“I see my work did some justice.” I heard Ronnie call out. Jughead and I turned around on the sidewalk we had been on to see our friends.

“We have been looking everywhere for you guys! Where were you!” Archie called out, jogging towards us.

“Oh, you know, climbing jungle gyms, pushing Jughead off them, the usual.” I joked, looking up at Jughead. He smiled, rolling his eyes.
Ronnie and Betty walked up to us, hands held together.

“Hey, nothings gonna be… awkward, right?” Betty asked, looking at Jughead and I.

“No, Betts, everything’s good.” Jughead looked down at me, squeezing my hand.

“Ok, good.” Betty rested her hand on Jughead’s shoulder giving it a friendly squeeze before dropping it.

“Wait, so, you two?” Archie asked, looking at Ronnie and Betty, who nodded.

“And you two?” Archie looked at Jughead and I. Jughead nodded and I blushed, hiding in his side. Jughead wrapped an arm around my waist, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised.” Kevin shrugged, walking towards us.

“Hey, we’re all heading to Pop’s, you coming?” Archie asked Jug and I.

“Archibald Andrews, do you ever think I would turn down a burger and fries from our ever so famous chock-lit shoppe?” I put a hand over my chest in mock offense.

“Of course you and Jughead are together, why was I even surprised.” Archie rolled his eyes, walking away from us.

“That obvious, huh?” Jughead spoke aloud, looking down at me.

“Yep.”

accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?”
me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic”
boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

Keep reading

Ignore This Text

Summary: Sam somehow gets a favor out of Bucky, resulting in a very awkward confrontation with a local barista.
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Characters: Female Reader, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers
Word Count: 1,980

| Feedback is very much appreciated | Masterlist |

Every Sunday morning, at precisely 8:45, Bucky finds himself at a quaint, little cafe just a block away from the Brooklyn apartment himself, Steve, and Sam, who he finds utterly unbearable, live together. Like clockwork, he’ll wake up, argue with Sam about him eating the rest of whatever food Bucky was attempting to have for breakfast, Steve offering to go grocery shopping the umpteenth time that week, and with Bucky frustratingly storming out of the apartment subconsciously heading towards the cafe with the best muffins and no with Sam Wilson in sight.

Just like all the weeks before, Bucky’s feet hurriedly carry himself down the empty morning sidewalk as he groans in annoyance. This Sunday Sam had decided to finish off the carton of egg whites, that clearly had a bright blue sticky-note with Bucky’s name on it, and to use up all the hot water in the apartment. It seemed as if this man’s purpose on Earth was to make Bucky Barnes’ life more difficult than it had to be.

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Day One: Homesickness

Thought I’d start off @vldangstweek with something that turns from angsty to fluffy, just because, based on the rest of this weeks prompts, it’s gonna get waaayyyy angstier (knowing me, anyway). Everything will be tagged with vldangstweek and any of my usual angst tags (angst, langst, klangst, etc)

Let my children go home, they’re stressed and tired (under a cut for length).


“Come on Lance, one more time! You need to defeat this gladiator before I can allow anyone to go to dinner!” Allura shouted down from the observation deck.

The quiet groans of his teammates filled his head and Lance winced, stepping back to stand his ground against the bot attacking him. His vision wavered over his helmet and his fingers trembled against his bayard, unable to form it because of the close range combat style. He grunted, rolling as the bot dove for him, sweeping it’s legs out from under it and sending it to the ground. Briefly, he heard Hunk’s cheer of encouragement in his comms, and then the bot was back up again, charging at him.

Lance sighed, side stepping the bot and pressing his shaking hands to his head, trying to stop the swimming feeling in his brain, the burn at the back of his throat and eyes, the tightness in his chest. He took a hit, hard, and fell backwards onto his ass, teeth clacking together.

“Dude, seriously, we’re starving!” Pidge called out. “You need to beat this!”

Lance took a shaky breath, shooting a glare at the deck. “You want me to beat it? Fine. I’ll beat it.”

Before the bot could get any closer, Lance whipped out his bayard, transforming it in the process and ignoring Allura’s shouts of this being a hand to hand fight. Within seconds, the bot was in a smoking heap on the floor and Lance was shaking, sweat curling down his forehead. Allura stormed out of the observation deck and onto the main floor, eyebrows furrowed. “That was not the assignment, Lance. You’ll have to do it again.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

Lance ripped off his helmet and chucked it to the ground. When he looked up, Allura took a step back at the ferocity in his face, the tears in his eyes. “I said, no. I’m not doing this bull shit anymore. They’re not either,” he snapped, pointing towards the deck. “You don’t get to treat us this way, we’re the only reason you’re not dead or still in those stupid pods. You called us family, Allura.”

His voice broke and his lip quivered as he stumbled back, shaking his head. “You don’t get to treat family like this. Not when we’re doing all of this for you.”

He swallowed and spun on his heel, storming from the room. Allura hesitated, glancing back at the deck only to find the rest of the paladins and Coran standing behind her. She studied the group, noted the lines on their faces and the bags under their eyes, and frowned. “Do you all agree with him?”

They remained silent for a moment, glancing at each other. Hunk spoke up first, his voice gentle. “Yeah. I do, at least.”

“Me too,” Pidge piped up, staring at the floor and fiddling with her bayard.

Keith nodded silently, rubbing a hand up and down one arm and looking off to the side. Hunk huffed. “Allura, we…I would say we’re homesick, but I don’t know if that covers all of us.”

“We’re Earth sick,” Keith offered. “And Lance…”

Shiro spoke for the first time. “Lance has the most family to miss out of the five of us.”

“And honestly?” Hunk muttered. “You yelling all the time, you pushing him, and us, all the time? No breaks, no relaxation time at all? I’m amazed he didn’t snap before this.”

Allura swallowed. “I’m…”

“It’s okay,” Hunk promised. “We understand, you want to stop the Galra, stop Zarkon.”

“But you have to remember that we’re all volunteering to do this,” Pidge said, fidgeting from foot to foot. “There’s nothing keeping anyone here other than empathy. Don’t give Lance a reason to stop caring, or he will leave.”

Allura bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. “I should go-”

“No,” Keith said firmly, stepping forwards and resting a hand on Allura’s arm. “We got this. You two go get dinner.”

She and Coran studied the paladins for a moment before nodding in agreement and leaving the training deck.

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the bike shorts incident

Zimbits | Fluff & Crack | 3.2k | AO3

Bitty gets a series of texts from Jack just minutes before their shared class is due to start. Bitty is alarmed for several reasons—Jack’s preference for sending single texts, and the fact that Jack is normally in class before Bitty at the top of the list.

Jack 9:56 Are there seats in the back row?

Jack 9:57 Can you move to the back row and save me one

Jack 9:57 Near the door on the east side

Jack 9:57 Please

Jack 9:58 ??

Bitty isn’t sure what’s going on, but he gathers his stuff quickly, dumping it into his bag, and heads to the back row near the specified door, trying to type as he goes.

Bitty 9:59 I’ve moved. Got a seat for you. Everything okay?

Jack 9:59 Is anyone near you?

Bitty looks around.

Bitty 10:00 A few people further down the row, and about five rows in front. Teacher just walked in and is setting up.

Bitty looks around to the door, holding his phone in case it buzzes again with a message from Jack.

The teacher calls the class to attention and there’s still no sign of Jack. It’s not like him to miss class. Bitty wants to go out and find him to see what’s going on, but he can’t now that the teacher has seen him. He gets out his books and pen again, and focuses to the front, keeping his phone visible on the desk just in case.

He keeps an ear out for the door, and just as Professor Miao begins her lecture, he hears it opening. It’s almost like Jack was waiting until he knew she’d started.

Jack sticks his head through the gap and looks around nervously. He meets eyes with Bitty, who raises eyebrows at him, trying to get some clue as to what Jack’s been texting him for. As Jack pushes the door open slowly, and hurries quietly in, practically tiptoeing over to the seat Bitty has saved for him, Bitty thinks he knows what Jack’s been worried about.

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Sweater Weather

Jughead x Reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Request: Can you do an imagine where Jughead breaks up with the reader and she doesn’t go  to school for a couple of days and when she returns she’s a mess wearing joggers and something of Jugheads.

Warnings: none/fluff/possible swearing

Summary: Based on the Neighbourhood Sweater Weather, Jughead breaks the readers heart, she’s a mess and when he sees what he’s done he realises it was a mistake.

Originally posted by juptern

Keep reading

Locker Room*

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Summary: There’s no real plot, maybe Reader wants to fool around in a locker room. Once again, this poor summary does not reflect my writing in general, I hope. Bear with me, please.
Words Count: 2.7k
Genre: NSFW/SMUT - 18+
Warnings: Smutty gifs, swearing, dirty talking, oral sex (both receiving), Chris being a butt guy (?), fingering and protected sex in a locker room, I guess.

Gifs used below aren’t mine, credit to the rightful owners.

    “Seriously Chris, why would you work out so late?” You whined, throwing your gym bag at the back of the car as you popped in, sitting next to him.

    “Listen, we both like this gym and this hour is the best time slot.” Your boyfriend huffed out a laugh, pecking your cheek and you buckled up the passenger seat belt.

    “There are other interesting ways to do exercises,” you wiggled your eyebrows, wandering your fingertips along his thigh and he rolled his eyes, starting the car. “If you do this to preserve your privacy then think about wearing something else than a cap. This became so obvious it’s Chris Evans hiding under.”

    “Always hilarious, Y/N,” he looked at the road, driving through Los  Angeles and you leaned your head against the seat, setting your running shoes on the dash. “You know it’s the job, I’m starting to film Infinity War in a couple of months now.”

    “Really, I had no idea… Captain Fucking Obvious.” Your eyes stared straight through the window as he glanced at you with his eyebrows furrowed, giving you his special look he used whenever you used sarcasm and a small laugh slipped through your lips.

    Once you’d finally reached the gym club opened at night, you both headed towards the different locker rooms and you got rid of your bag and jacket. You finally joined your boyfriend in the room - with some other people - and you saw him already working out as he focused on the upper part of his body.

    You smiled and as Chris sent you a wink, you tried to leave this glorious sight of him flexing his biceps, grunting lightly or tensing his back so much that you could’ve drawn the muscles through his T-shirt. You couldn’t help but internally gush over how very handsome he looked like this and how sexy his athletic outfit embraced all his muscles tightening then relaxing.

    Shaking your head slightly, you chose to concentrate the hard work on your legs for the night and you climbed on your favorite device, trying to forget the thoughts flying above your mind.

    Keep reading

    Fanfiction

    Summary: Bucky asks to borrow your laptop and finds the smutty fanfiction that you’ve been writing on your anonymous Tumblr account.

    Warnings: smut, secondhand embarrassment, fingering, metal arm kink

    A/N: Thank you guys for being so nice to me today and sending me asks because I really like getting asks and they helped me feel better. I finished writing this at three in the morning because my anxiety is really bad because I’m waiting for my advisor to email me back about whether or not I can withdrawal my Physics class and I’m going really crazy waiting because I have a Physics test Thursday and welp. Anyway, that’s why you have this fic; I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this. Feedback is welcome and encouraged. If you want to be added to the tag list you have to send me an ask.


    “Hey, (Y/N), can I borrow your laptop?” Bucky peered into your room, making sure you weren’t indecent first.

    “Yeah, that’s fine.” You unplugged the MacBook from it’s charger and handed it to Bucky. “I’ll be down in the gym if you have any questions.”

    “Thanks, doll.” His fingers brushed against yours as he took the metal computer from you. The mixture of his pet name and the tingling from his touch sent a need between your legs. “Mind if I just sit in here and use it?” 

    “Not at all.” You headed out of your room and to the gym, ready to work out.

    Keep reading

    Imagine...Borrowing Dean’s Shirt

    Originally posted by irishkhaleesi26

    Pairing: Dean x reader


    Keep reading

    Meet You Downstairs

    Read on AO3

    As Jack descends in the elevator to the basement, it strikes him that he never knew his condo building had a rental suite. Between his hockey commitments and hermit tendencies, there’s still a lot about his own home he doesn’t know despite living here for six years. It’s part of the reason he offered to help out around the building: to keep himself social during the summer season. His parents talked a lot about building a community of friends outside of work, and he knows his way around a toolbox so. Why not?

    The basement is… really creepy, actually, reserved for the storage lockers and recycling bins. Even the parking garage is a level up and more inviting than this. There’s only one hallway so Jack follows it, certain he’s going the right way when he hears the voice through the wall.

    “It’s fine, Mama. I know you wanted to help me pick out a place but this one is great. It’s in a nice neighbourhood, very secure… Yes, I got your pepper spray in the care package, but please, this is Providence, not New York City.”

    Jack doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but he can’t help but notice how young this guy sounds. In a building where the average condo sells for over two million dollars, most of the neighbours he sees in the halls are retirees or working professionals. There aren’t many parties, which he appreciates.

    He knocks on the cheap wooden door which rattles in the hinges. No wonder they’re renting this room out instead of selling, he thinks. There’s shuffling on the other side, and Jack hears the boy… man say “Goodness, I think the custodian is here already… of course I have pie who do you think I am? Call you back, love you.”

    The door opens and there’s a lingering moment of silence as they each look at the person across from them. This guy looks to be a few years younger than Jack, a bit shorter, lean but with well-defined muscles he can see quite clearly thanks to him wearing the shortest shorts that could possibly be considered not-underwear. He’s staring. Oh boy, he’s staring and he needs to not be doing that so he drags his eyes up and they stall on the loose neckline of his tank top.  

    Keep reading

    Got7 as the Mafia + How He Met You

    |||Anon asked:  Hi! I really liked your mafia monsta x post and was wondering if you could do something similar for got7 and bts?|||

    BTS   Monsta X   Shinee


    JB/Im Jaebum

    Originally posted by jaesbum

    • Built this whole gang from scratch 
    • Has this strong and scary presence around him but he’s actually an angel doesn’t like doing the dirty work himself and instead relies on his other gang members to clean up the mess
    • Even though he himself and his gang is well known around the city he prefers to stay in the shadows
    • Has a reputation of one of the fiercest mafia leaders 
    • And the rumors are true because no one who got on his bad side, got to live to see another day

    Meeting you was a complete coincidence as you happened to work in the warehouses where his gang would make deals. You were always told finish up before 9 o’clock in the evening because you might lose your job otherwise and you always obeyed this rule until that day. It took you longer to sort things out than usual and when you were about to leave it was almost 10. You went out through the front exit and were caught up in the middle of two gangs.

    “Who the fuck is she?” one man asked.

    “I’m sorry, I didn’t see anything, I’m not even supposed to be here, I will never tell anyone, so please-”

    “Shut up! You talk to much.” Jaebum ordered. You looked at him frightened.

    “It would be better if we just kill her.” the other man spoke again.

    “No.” Jaebum said approaching you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “She’s with me.”


    Mark Tuan

    Originally posted by nochuie

    • He’s not in the gang to do business but rather for the many opportunities to steal, especially cars
    • If he sets his eye on something, there is 110% guarantee that he will get in 24 hours
    • He thinks Jackson is shady and that he’s probably going to try to steal from him so he avoids him like the plague which almost never works
    • Because of people like him, he doesn’t go anywhere (not even to sleep) without his trusted revolver
    • He’s one of the richest among the gang members and likes to show off his precious cars but there will be no hesitation to kill if you as much as touch them

    You made the stupid decision of trying to steal from him. You saw his obviously expensive car parked outside one of the clubs and thought that that’s a good catch. However when you drove away with it, expecting to sell it into the black market, Mark himself showed up to buy it from you.

    “That’s not very nice.” he said pointing his gun at you. “I really like this one.”

    You were surprised the owner of the car found you so fast and just wanted in anticipation to see what will happen.

    “But I also find your courage and skills very impressive, not many people dare steal from me, so how about you give me back my car and then I will think what to do with you.”


    Jackson Wang

    Originally posted by igot17-bangtan-boys

    • No one knows why he’s in the gang and how he got here
    • He just started hanging around and before everyone knew it he was already going on missions and making deals
    • Was very quick to gain everyones trust and respect
    • He doesn’t have a specific job at the gang as he’s pretty much good at anything
    • And he also annoys a lot people so they don’t want to take him with them but he shows up anywhere, anytime at the right moment

    He met you when he broke into your house in the middle of the night to interrogate you. He woke you up and put his hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming.

    “We need to discuss some things, if you behave I won’t hurt you.”

    Pretending to fear for your life you just nodded but if he really thought you were afraid, that was a big mistake on his part. You knew this was going to happen someday sooner or later, so you were ready and as soon as he let go of you, you took the scissors from your night stand and stabbed him in the leg. You took off immediately after that and you have no idea how (with that kind of injury) but he managed to catch up and tackle you outside. He dragged you to the back of your apartment building and slammed you into the wall.

    “Naughty girl, what did I just say about behaving? I really don’t want to hurt you but if you don’t tell me everything you know right now, I might have to take you with me.”


    Park Jinyoung

    Originally posted by jypnior

    • Doesn’t always look like it but will do anything for the gang
    • He’s one of the top and most respected assassins in the industry
    • Prefers to take out his targets silently, that’s why he’s more skilled with hand held weapons like knifes, daggers, axes and so on
    • Most of the time he’s very collected and calm until you make him angry or his emotions take over, then he uses anything he can find as a weapon and not a single person leaves the room alive
    • He has been in the business for so long that he already forgot the number of people he killed

    Unfortunately it was your mission to kill him, as you were probably the only person crazy enough to try it. He noticed you even before you approached him but didn’t say anything yet. This situation was very amusing to him as there has been a long time since somebody tried to kill him. You were waiting all night to get the right opportunity when you lost track of him. You were about to go look for him when he appeared next to you.

    “Looking for someone?” he asked handing you a drink. “Why do you look so shocked? Did you see a ghost or am I that sexy?”

    You were still frozen in your tracks when he got closer and closer to you only to pull your gun from under your dress.

    “What were you about to do with this?” he smirked pushing you down on the couch. “I think you should sit down because me and you are about to have a very serious talk.”


    Choi Youngjae

    Originally posted by huggableyoungjae

    • Specializes in making drug, weapons and other kind of deals
    • Deal making with him is very quick, as he doesn’t like talking with his business partners about anything else but the deal, so that if anything happens it wouldn’t be traced back to him
    • Even though he’s well known in the industry not many people know his real name
    • He’s also the best at smuggling anything in and out of the country
    • If the money is given to him in cash, he counts every single note as he doesn’t trust people that easily

    You tried to cheat your way out of the deal by not giving him a couple of grands, thinking he wouldn’t notice but as you turned around to leave he grabbed you by the arm. 

    “No so fast sweetie.” he said. “Do you know what this is?” he asked you and you could feel the coldness of the metal press at your waist.

    “It’s a gun.”

    “Correct! And I would really hate to use it on you.” he stated snatching your bag out of your hand.

    “I will take this.” he smiled taking out a bundle of banknotes out of it. “But as you tried to trick me, I  can’t let you go that easily, so I think I will need something more than that.”


    BamBam

    Originally posted by bamica

    • Any kind of location, a person, any piece of information - he has it
    • Is considered very valuable in this business and many gangs try to bribe him to work for them
    • He has no interest in helping them though and prefers to stick to one group at a time but he’s been in this gang for so long that nowadays he doesn’t even plan on leaving
    • Has many different methods to get the info he needs, the most infamous one of them being torture
    • Needless to say if he gets to use that method, you won’t be experiencing anything again. Ever.

    You had no idea how it got to that. Seemingly one minute you were fighting alongside your members and now you were strapped to a chair in an unknown building. Someone pulled you up by the chin.

    “I told you to look at me when I’m talking to you.” BamBam said. “Ahh such a pretty face!”

    “Don’t touch me!” you told trying to smack his hand from your face.

    “I think you don’t understand the situation you’re now in. You see, you don’t have many options. Or rather there is only two: you tell me everything you know and I kill you quickly or I torture the information out of you and kill you anyways.”

    “How about neither, you fuck.”

    “Ouch! You’re just making it worse for yourself but I admire your courage, how about, just for you, I come up with a third option.”


    Kim Yugyeom

    Originally posted by thehouseofkpop

    • Was very young when he was thrown into this whole mafia world, still in some sort of training to be a pro
    • But unexpectedly he’s crazy good with guns, his aim is great and his precision is no joke
    • Because of that all the members trust him with their lives and he’s taken on missions more often than anyone else
    • Favourite weapons of choice - long range sniper rifles
    • Often trains other even older than him gang members and can often be seen practicing till dusk

    He was surprised to see he missed and only shot you in the leg. As you disappeared behind a building he decided to come finish you off. When he turned the corner you were nowhere to be seen.

    “What the heck, she couldn’t have gone that far off, at this point she should have lost a lot of blood.” he wondered when unexpectedly you attacked him from behind. You took your knife out trying to stab him when he rolled you over and now he was the one on top.

    “Oh! I see we have a fighter. How were you even able to stand up?” he questioned you. 

    “Stop struggling, will you?” he told you pressing his fingers into the open leg wound. You screamed in pain and passed out. He checked your pulse.

    “Good. She’s still alive. If we can get her to behave, she will make a strong ally.” he thought picking you up.


    A/N: Next up is BTS!! But I still have to finish it 😂 Anyhow, feel free to request more scenarios, reactions etc, I keep up with a lot of groups, both male and female!! 😄

    itybitynovak  asked:

    Can you please write an imagine where the reader has had just a really bad day and they come home to Harry and just lots of fluff and cuddles please? Thank you, love :)

    First, I’m sorry this took so long to get too.. precisely why I’m terrible with requests. Second, I changed the idea just a bit, but it works out all the same, I think. x

    Also the cut on this one is at the top  because the photo I used *can* be considered NSFW. So- proceed with caution, lol. 

    Keep reading

    Touché // j.j.

    You can’t pin point when. Somewhere between the steady typing and the flipping of pages, between the constant supply of french fries and chocolate milkshakes, between the occasional eye contact and the brief smiles. Somewhere between the hours of three and seven o'clock, you fell.

    To be specific, you fell in love with Jughead Jones, Riverdale’s resident tall dark and handsome, at least, in your opinion.

    It started one afternoon when Pop’s was busier than usual, every booth and table full except one.

    “Do you…do you mind if I sit?” You ask, rocking slightly on the balls of your feet. “Everywhere else is full.”

    You expect him to say no; he is, after all, Jughead Jones, and this is, after all, Riverdale, probably the smallest town in the world and everyone at least knew of everyone else, and you definitely know of Jughead and his preference to being alone, especially when he’s writing.

    Jughead ceases his typing, locking eyes with you. He glances around the diner, almost surprised at how many people were in it.

    “I’m not the best conversationalist,” he says, looking back at you, “I can’t promise anything good.”

    This surprises you, you expected a flat out no or for him to even just ignore you.

    “I’m not looking for conversation,” you say, shrugging, “just somewhere to sit and read my book while enjoying a milkshake.”

    “Depends,” he smirks, folding his hands in front of his laptop, “what flavor milkshake?”

    “The best one of course,” you smile back, “chocolate.”

    Jughead smiles, actually smiles, and nods.

    “Yeah, yeah you can sit,” he says.

    You thank him, sliding into the booth and setting your bag next to you. You pull out your book, thanking the waiter as he set down your milkshake.

    “Oh, I’m Y/N by the way,” you say, stirring the drink a bit.

    “I know.”

    You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side.

    “You know who I am?”

    You remind yourself again that this is Riverdale, probably the smallest town in the world, where everyone knows everyone.

    “I know more than you think,” he smiles.

    “You take this dark and mysterious thing seriously don’t you?”

    “I thought you weren’t looking for conversation?” He raises an eyebrow, half a smirk on his face.

    “Touché,” you say, opening your book and settling into the plush seating, sipping occasionally at your milkshake.

    This continues for days. Regardless of whether Pop’s is bursting at the seems or it’s just you and him, you always sit together. The two of you sit in that booth, you with a book in one hand and a milkshake in another and Jughead with his laptop on the table and fries next to it.

    “You know,” Jughead says one day, fingers still whizzing across the keyboard, “you can sit somewhere else if you want.”

    “And ruin the work we’ve been doing?” You smile, “I’m good.”

    He stops typing, you feel his eyes on you.

    “And what work are we doing exactly?”

    “Bonding, Jug,” you say, turning the page.

    “Is this what bonding is?”

    You look up at him, shrugging.

    “What would you call it?”

    “Touché.”

    Weeks pass, the time you spend at Pop’s growing from a one or two hours into several, your time together stretching into early dusk.

    “Hey Jug?” You ask quietly one day, closing your book for once.

    He notices, he stops typing, he even half way closes the top of his computer.

    “What’s up?”

    “How’d you know who I was?” You ask, stirring your milkshake. “That first day…you said you knew who I was before I told you. How?”

    “This is Riverdale,” he says, “I think it’s physically impossible to not know someone in this town.”

    Jughead opens his mouth to continue, then closes it. You can see the wheels turning in his head.

    “I notice things, I notice people,” he resumes finally, “I notice when people are different and you’re different. A good different, but different.”

    With that, he raises the lid of his laptop, eyes focusing back on the screen.

    “You noticed me?”

    He looks back up at you, a smile on his face.

    “Course I did.”

    When you get to Pop’s one day about a week later, Jughead’s not there, Archie is.

    “Oh um…hi,” you say, stopping short in front of the booth.

    “Hey, Y/N right?” He asks, motioning for you to sit.

    You do.

    “Yeah, that’s um…” you shift your weight slightly, feeling uncomfortable, “that’s me.”

    “Sorry, this must be awkward,” Archie says with a smile, “I’m Archie.”

    “Yeah, I know who you are,” you say before you can stop yourself.

    Archie’s eyebrows scrunch up slightly in confusion.

    “Sorry, that sounded weird,” you rush, “I just mean, you’re a sophomore on varsity football, the whole school knows who you are.”

    Archie smiles a bit, nodding.

    “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he shrugs, “anyway, Jughead sent me.”

    You feel your shoulders relax involuntarily, leaning back into the seat.

    “Okay.”

    “He had to stay after school, make up a test or something,” Archie explains, “he told me to come tell you that he’d be here though, just a bit late.”

    You smile.

    “Thanks Archie,” you nod, “that’s really nice.”

    “Anytime,” the boy replies, smiling, “look uh…this may sound super weird but um…you and Jughead…is that anything more th-”

    “No,” you cut him off, shaking your head, “no we’re…we’re just friends. At least…I think we’re friends. We just…we sit together and we do our own thing. That’s all.”

    “I know Jughead, that’s definitely a friendship,” he smiles, “okay, I gotta head back to practice before I’m missed but yeah, he’ll be here.”

    With another smile he scoots out of the booth.

    “Archie,” you stop him, looking up at his face, “look um…god this is going to sound crazy but…is Jughead…is he seeing anyone o-or som-”

    “No,” Archie cuts you off with another smile on his face, “he was, for a bit but…not anymore. Do you like him?”

    You’re surprised by his bluntness, your eyes widening a bit.

    “I uh…n-no I was just curious,” you shake your head, pulling your book out of your bag, “you better get to practice, don’t want coach to bench you.”

    Archie smiles again, always with the smiling, and walks out of the door just as Jughead walks in.

    “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he says, sitting down across from you.

    “I didn’t know we had a set schedule,” you smirk, tilting your head slightly, “nice of you to send your friend though.”

    Jughead looks at you, a sarcastic smile on his face.

    “Didn’t want you to think I stood you up,” he says, pulling out his laptop.  

    “Don’t you have to be on a date to get stood up?” You ask, sipping at your milkshake as Pop places a basket of fries in front of Jughead.

    “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he replies, shrugging.

    “So are you telling me that these are dates?”

    This time you surprise yourself with your own bluntness, and Jughead as well. He recovers quickly though, the shock on his face only evident for a few brief moments.

    “You tell me.”

    There it is, his smile, his actual smile. Not a smirk, not some no effort half smile, an actual, full blown, Jughead smile.

    Looking back on it, you think that’s when you first knew, when you first realized that you were falling for him.

    The rest of the night is spent in silence, well, besides the sound of Jughead’s typing and your book pages begin turned.

    You arrive at Pop’s the next day to see Jughead already sitting at the booth, typing furiously. That didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you, however, is the chocolate milkshake already sitting on the table in front of your side of the booth.

    “I didn’t see you at school today,” you say, sitting down, “did you skip?”

    “Yeah, yeah I um…” he pauses, finishing the sentence he’s typing before looking at you, “I got here this morning because I forgot one of my notebooks and I sat down to finish this paragraph I was on and uh…next thing I knew it was one o'clock in the afternoon so I…figured I’d just stay here.”

    “Archie asked me if I knew where you were,” you say, “he came up to me during lunch and asked if I knew if you were sick or not.”

    “What did you say?”

    “The truth,” you reply, “that I didn’t know.”

    Jughead nods, looking back down at his computer screen.

    “Jug?” You ask, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

    He continues to type, oblivious to your calls of his name.

    “Juggie!” You exclaim, finally drawing his attention.

    “Sorry, got caught up in the story,” he shakes his head, “what’s up?”

    “What’s going on with you?” You ask, sliding your book off to the side. “You seem…I dunno, off.”

    “Sorry just um…a lot of stuff on my mind I guess,” he says, shrugging.

    “About Jason or…other things?” You ask.

    “It’s nothing important.”

    “Juggie,” you say softly, sliding your hand across the table to touch his arm, “if it’s bothering you this much, it’s important. You can talk to me, always.”

    “We’re friends right?” He asks, closing his computer all the way.

    “Yeah, yeah course we are Jug,” you nod, “please, tell me what’s going on.”

    And he does, he tells you everything. About his parents splitting up, about his dad being part of the serpents, about his mom taking his sister and leaving, about living at the drive in, about living at the school, everything. And you let him talk, you let him go on for as long as he needs with no interruption, just listening.

    “Sorry if that’s a lot but um…I needed to get that stuff off my chest,” he finishes, taking a deep breath, “thanks though.”

    “Come stay with me,” the words are out of your mouth before you even think them through, but you don’t take them back, “seriously Jug, my dad’s away on business and my mom won’t care, we’ve got room.”

    “No Y/N I can’t expect that from you I do-”

    “Juggie, you’re my best friend,” you say, cheeks burning slightly, “please, let me do this for you.”

    Jughead looks down, staring your hand touching his, both of your fingers practically intertwined on top of the table.

    “Are you sure it’s okay?” He asks after a minute or two silence, looking around the diner, “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

    “I’m absolutely positive it’s okay,” you reply, catching his gaze, “but I’m not going to force you.”

    “As long as you’re sure,” he says, nodding, “I’d really like to not live under the stairs like Harry Potter.”

    You were right, your mom doesn’t care, she even convinces your dad that it’s okay for Jughead to stay with you, and after three weeks of it, you’re convinced it is the single best idea you’ve ever had.

    The two of you still spend most of your time at Pop’s, something about the neon lights and plush seating and the constant supply of chocolate milkshakes makes you feel more at home than you do at your actual house. Or maybe Jughead does. Maybe Jughead makes you feel like you’re home.

    “Do you ever wonder how some people end up with the worst luck?” He asks one day, eyes never leaving his computer screen as he chews on this thumb nail.

    The two of you are going on four hours at Pop’s that day, and you notice that Jughead has barely written anything.

    “Are we talking about Jason?” You ask gently, closing the book you were reading and placing it on the table.

    “We’re talking about everyone,” he says cryptically, “how some people are born with everything they could ever want available on a silver platter and others are born with nothing, but somehow the golden boy ends up with the worst kind of luck.”

    Jughead rarely ever spoke directly about Jason Blossom, you knew by now how to read between the lines of his novel-ish tone of voice.

    “I think that it doesn’t matter what you’re born into,” you reply, “I think what matters is the choices we decide to make throughout our lives, and that that’s how we end up with good or bad luck, by the choices we make and by how we live our lives.”

    “He never had to make a choice though,” Jughead exclaims, closing his laptop and sliding it out of the way, “that’s the thing, he never in his life had to make one choice for himself and somehow he still ended up murdered.”

    His bluntness surprises you, this being one of a few times he directly tells you he’s talking about Jason.

    “He did make choices, Jug,” you explain calmly, “everyday, just like you and me. He made the choice to let his parents give him whatever he wanted, he made the choice to follow that stupid book Chuck made up, he made the choice to be with Polly regardless of what his parents said, he made the choice to try and fake his own death so he could be with her without fear of them, he made hard choices, some of them more tough than you and I will ever make in our entire lives.”

    Jughead stares at you, and for a minute you think he’s going to get up and leave.

    But then he grabs his computer, mumbling a quick thank you under his breath and he begins to type furiously.

    That night you’re laying on your bed, Jughead in the guest room across the hall and you can’t help but feel like he’s a million miles away.

    You can’t sleep. Grabbing your phone, you squint at the brightness before you’re able to turn it down, looking at the clock.

    2:37 am

    “He’s probably asleep,” you whisper to yourself as you unlock the device, fingers moving almost on autopilot to Jughead’s message thread.

    Can’t sleep, you awake?

    You lay the phone on your stomach, staring up at the dark ceiling and willing your body to sleep. The vibration of the device pulls you out of your thoughts.

    You okay?

    You smile, two simple words causing happiness to bubble up in your stomach.

    Yeah, just can’t seem to sleep.

    You want to come talk?

    If you don’t mind.

    You’re always able to come talk to me.

    You don’t reply, instead you get up out of your bed, quietly opening your door and then closing it behind you. You take three quick steps across the hallway, opening and closing Jughead’s door as quietly as you did your own.

    “Hey,” you say softly, standing in front of the door.

    Jughead props himself up on his elbows, the first thing you notice is the lack of a grey beanie upon his head.

    “Hey,” he says back in the same tone, “you okay?”

    Those two words again, this time sounding even better as you can hear him say it in his own voice.

    “Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply, pushing some hair behind your ear nervously.

    Why are you nervous? You ask yourself as Jughead motions for you to come join him. It’s only Juggie.

    You slide under the covers, but only because the room is cold, and you’re next to him, but only because it’s his room, and his arm is around your shoulders, but only because he’s a good friend and he wants to comfort you.

    “Why can’t you sleep?” He asks, rubbing his eye with one hand.

    “Did I wake you up?” You ask.

    “No I was working on my book,” he explains, pointing at the computer on the bedside table, “don’t change the subject.”

    “I dunno…overthinking I guess,” you reply, shrugging a bit.

    “About what?”

    “Everything I suppose,” you say, “about how if Pop’s wasn’t full that one day or if I had decided not to go then we probably wouldn’t have ever met. About how if I hadn’t continued to sit there we probably wouldn’t have become best friends, about what Archie sa-”

    “Archie?” Jughead cuts you off. “What about Archie?”

    You curse yourself silently. You didn’t mean to say anything about Archie.

    “Nothing, nothing,” you reply quickly, but the look on Jughead’s face told you that he wasn’t going to let it go, “okay um…back that one day when you sent him to Pop’s to tell me that you were going to be late uh…he said that you had been seeing someone but that you weren’t anymore and I was…I guess I was just thinking about who it could’ve been.”

    He’s silent, more silent than you’ve ever experienced with the many months of knowing him. Minutes pass, they feel like hours. Finally, you decide to break the silence.

    “Juggie?” You whisper.

    “Sorry I um…” he shakes his head, raven colored hair flying everywhere, “why were…why were you thinking about that?”

    “Curious, I guess,” you explain, “sorry if that seems intrusive or weird or whatever bu-”

    “No no it’s…it’s okay,” Jughead replies, wrapping his arm around your shoulders a bit tighter, “it…it was Betty. We had a thing for a few weeks but in the end we decided we were better off as friends.”

    “A few weeks?”

    “Before I met you, we stopped about two days before that day at Pop’s”

    “And are you?”

    “Am I what?”

    “You and Betty, are you better off as friends?”

    “Definitely.”

    You nod, falling into silence once again.

    This time Jughead breaks it.

    “Look I’m not…I’m not good at this whole feelings thing,” he says, “Betty was the first girl I ever really had those types of emotions for but it wasn’t…it wasn’t what I’m supposed to feel. Or rather what I want to feel.”

    “Do you know what you want to feel?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at his face.

    He looks almost angelic in the pale light streaming through the semi-closed blinds.

    “Yes.”

    “Do you know anyone that makes you feel like that?”

    “Yes.”

    The answer comes quick, almost too quick.

    “Who?”

    Another pause.

    “I can’t say.”

    Your stomach drops on slightly, but enough for your to feel it nonetheless.

    “Oh.”

    “It’s not that I don’t want to,” he rushes, running one of his hands through his hair, “it’s just that I don’t really know how to.”

    “You’re a writer, Jug,” you say, “I know you’ll figure out how to tell her. You’re good with words.”

    “Not when it comes to these kinds of words,” he laughs lightly, “I don’t want to mess up.”

    “Don’t psych yourself out,” you encourage, regardless of the weight on your heart, “maybe you don’t need your words this time, maybe actions is the way to go. I believe in you, I know you’ll figure it out.”

    Jughead finally looks at you, dark hair falling in front of his face as it’s still free of the infamous crown beanie.

    “Actions?” He repeats.

    “Yeah, you know what they say,” you smile, “actions speak louder than words.”

    He blinks a few times, it’s almost like you can see the thought processing through his brain.

    And then suddenly his hands are cupping your face and his lips are on top of yours, your eyes closing as if they had minds of their own. You’re shocked, who wouldn’t be, but it only takes a fraction of a moment for your mind to kick into gear and then your kissing him back, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck.

    If I’m dreaming I hope I never ever wake up.

    He pulls away too soon for your liking, both your chests rising and falling little faster than usual.

    “That thing you said about actions,” he says breathlessly, “I believe it.”

    You smile wide, Jughead pressing his forehead against yours.

    “You were talking about me?” You ask, still a bit shocked.

    Jughead nods a few times, a smile on his face as well.

    “I like you, Y/N,” he finally says, “I know that’s not poetic or artistic or anything like that but I just…I don’t have any other words. I really like you.”

    You think your face is going to split in half by the giant smile you can’t keep off your face.

    “Juggie,” you bite your bottom lip lightly, shaking your head, “god I can’t even tell you how much I’ve been wanting you to say that.”

    Jughead’s smile widens and you swear the room brightness a bit.

    “I’m really glad you couldn’t sleep tonight,” he whispers, laughing quietly.

    “Me too,” you smile even wider, if that’s possible, “Juggie I’m…I’m really really happy right now.”

    “God I am too,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “do you maybe want to have dinner with my friends tomorrow? I know they’re going out after the game, I can finally introduce you, properly too.”

    “Ooh, dinner with the friends,” you say sarcastically, “I don’t know, you think our relationship is ready for that? We’ve only been together all of five minutes.”

    Jughead laughs and you shush him, the two of you falling silent to make sure your parents were still asleep.

    “My dad will kill you if you wake him up and he finds us like this,” you whisper, shaking your head, “but in all seriousness, do you think it’ll be awkward for Betty? I don’t want to cause any trouble or anything I know you guys ar-”

    “Y/N,” he stops your rambling, a soft smile on his face, “it’ll be fine. Betty and I are good, like I said, we’re better off as friends. Trust me, she’ll be okay. I wouldn’t bring either of you to meet each other if I didn’t think she’d be okay.”

    “Okay, I’ll come to dinner with your friends,” you say, “on one condition.”

    “Oh god, what?”

    “I get to wear the infamous beanie,” you rush out, reaching over Jughead’s body and plucking the hat from on top of is computer.

    “Y/N!” Jughead exclaims, trying to grab the hat back from you.

    “Hold on hold on,” you say, pushing his hand away.

    You put the beanie on your head, smoothing your hair out under it and looking back up at him.

    Jughead stops struggling, half a smile on his face.

    “Well you do look adorable,” he says, brushing a stray piece of hair off your cheek.

    “I wear the beanie tomorrow,” you ask with raised eyebrows.

    “You can wear it to dinner,” he compromises, tilting his head to the side.

    “Touché.”

    Jughead keeps his word, and when the two of you leave your house that evening and head for Pop’s, he takes the beanie off his head and places it on yours, shaking out his hair. Jughead intertwines your fingers together, smiling at you and at how happy you look.

    Jughead explains his friends to you, telling you a bit about each one of them as you both walk towards the diner.

    “They’re probably going to say something,” he says, “about the beanie.”

    “Have any of them ever seen you without it?” You question.

    “Archie has, a few times,” he explains, “but other than that, no.”

    Jughead’s warnings were a bit understated. In fact, when the two of you walk into Pop’s and find his friends at a booth, it seems all conversation in the entire diner ceases.

    “Jug,” one of the girls, Veronica, says, mouthing wordlessly for a few seconds, “you made it, we thought you weren’t going to come for a while.”

    “Yeah, yeah we left a bit late,” Jughead shrugs, “guys um…this is Y/N. Y/N, this is…well this is everyone.”

    Once the awkward formalities were out of the way and Pop had brought over everyone’s celebratory milkshakes (the football team won that night), everything felt normal.

    You laugh at all the jokes, even tell some of your own. You feel like you’ve been part of this group for years, and you know Jughead can tell.

    “Hey um…sorry guys I gotta take this,” Jughead says after he pulls out his phone.

    “Juggie?” You ask. “Everything okay?”

    “What? Yeah,” he replies, “it’s just…it’s my mom. I should take it.”

    “Yeah, yeah of course go ahead,” Betty says, “we’ll keep her company,” she smiles at you.

    Jughead thanks them, walking out the door to the diner with the phone up to his ear.

    “So,” Veronica says, holding her head up with her hands, “you and Jughead.”

    You furrow your eyebrows.

    “Oh come on, don’t make her spell it out!” Kevin says, “he’s letting you wear his most prized possession for pete’s sake!”

    You feel a blush spread across your cheeks, looking down at the half empty milkshake in front of you.

    “I think you guys make a cute couple,” Betty says, licking some whipped cream off of her straw.

    “Thanks Betty,” you reply, smiling again.

    “This is going to sound awkward but uh…” Archie trails off, “has Jug told you anything about what’s going with his family an-”

    “Yeah,” you cut him off, “he has. About everything, including his dad and that stuff. He’s um…he’s staying at my house. Has been for a couple weeks.”

    Veronica smirks, Betty elbows her in the ribs. Archie and Kevin rolls their eyes at the two girls.

    “Hey, I think he’s talking about you,” Kevin says, nodding in Jughead’s direction.

    The four of you look over at him, you watch as he talks into his phone with a huge smile on his face, running a hand through his hair to push it back every couple of seconds.

    The night draws to a close all too soon, everyone heading back to their houses as you and Jughead walk hand in hand down the asphalt road.

    “I think that went really well,” you say, smiling at him.

    “I agree,” Jughead says, stopping you both from walking and standing in front of you.

    Before you can ask what he’s doing, he places his lips on yours cupping your cheek with one hand while simultaneously tilting your head up. You feel him lift the beanie off of your head, but honestly you don’t really care. He pulls away with a smirk, fixing his hat back on his head.

    “Archie,” you say, looking over Jughead’s shoulder.

    “Really?” He asks with semi-wide eyes, “that’s what you’re thinking about in the middle of our moment?”

    No, god you’re an idiot,” you shake your head, pointing over his shoulder, “Archie’s window, which happens to show Archie watching us right now.”

    As soon as Jughead turns around Archie slides his curtains closed, causing you and Jughead to burst out in laughter.

    “Did you kiss me just to steal your hat back?” You ask in a fake shocked tone.

    “Possibly,” he replies, quirking an eyebrow.

    “Touché Jones, touché.”

    anonymous asked:

    Wishing I was spending my afternoon cuddling with Peter and watching Disney movies in a pillow fort. Cute nicknames and maybe a make out session would be lovely, sorry if that's too much but thank you for taking the time to either do this or read it. 💙

    a/n: you are soo sweet! im sorry if this wasn’t what you were expecting but I can’t even contact you bc anon but if you read this i really hope you like it

    Originally posted by hamilll

    Masterlist

    You sighed deeply, he was late again. Your fingers ceased their tapping on the table, getting up before leaving to go to your room. You and Peter were supposed to go out for ice cream and a movie. Usually, you wouldn’t get upset or frustrated with him because you knew he had a lot going on in his life but this was the third time he has done this. You checked your phone, reading the last text message he sent you.

    Be there in a few x

    That was over two hours ago. You closed the door to your room, dropping your head against the door frame.

    “Peter..” You mumbled in disappointment.

    “Yes?” You jumped up, grabbing the nearest object before turning around and aiming at the person who scared you. Spider-man himself was standing in your room, both of his hands up in surrender. You watched as a muscled arm reached behind his head to pull the mask off. You watched as your boyfriend’s hair bounced slightly from his actions. You lowered your arms, waiting for him to say something.

    “Were you really going to defend yourself with a lamp?” He attempted at a joke. You frowned further, setting the lamp back in it’s rightful place.

    “Are you really going to start sassing me after having me wait two hours for you?” You crossed your arms, hip jutting out slightly. An eyebrow raised and a frown etched into your features you watched Peter fumble for words. You felt your shoulders slump a little.

    “I’m sorry I was late. I was driving over here to come and pick you up for our date when I heard the sirens in a distance and gunshots and I know both you and Stark tell me to stay out of it and I really did want to, trust me Y/N I really wanted to but I just couldn’t bring myself to ignore people’s cries. i went to go text you but my phone died.” You watched as he reached for his phone in a pocket of his backpack. His fingers held down the power button before showing it to you. A picture of an empty battery popped on the screen for a few seconds before becoming pitch black again. You sighed, shaking your head.

    “I don’t blame you for doing that Peter, and I know I shouldn’t be mad but-”

    “You have every right to be mad at me. But I did stop at a few stores to make it up to you.” Peter motioned for you to sit at the foot of your bed. You contemplated your options. You didn’t want to be mad at him for helping other people but if he really wanted to be with you, he was going to have to make some sort of sacrifice. There are cops for a reason and you are pretty sure that they would have done their job. You don’t know if it was the exhaustion or the fact that he had a bruise by his cheek that you love to kiss so much but you decided to see what he had planned. He leaned over and kissed your forehead, whispering ‘thank you’. Whether he was thanking you for sitting down and giving him a chance or for not kicking him out would be left a mystery to you. He turned his attention to his backpack, ruffling the clothes and loose papers in there.

    “Don’t you think that if someone sees Spider-man with the same backpack as you it wouldn’t raise some questions?” You asked, trying to see over his shoulder as he reached almost elbow deep into the backpack.

    “No, a lot of people these days have black backpacks, if anything people can narrow it down to a high school student and even then it’s too broad.”

    “Not every teen has a “Stark Industries” patch on theirs though…or a captain america patch either. I think it’s a little obvious.” You retorted. Peter finally found what he was looking for. He pulled out three things from the bag. Your eyes focused on the objects held in his hand. “The Tonight Dough” (your favorite Ben and Jerry’s ice cream flavor), with another flavor balanced on top, and in the other hand he had small stack of Disney movies. You smiled when you saw the ice cream, immediately going for a pint. You went to open the lid until you realised that there were no spoons. You were about to ask if he had brought any by any chance until your eyes landed on him. He had two spoons held in his mouth.

    “Surprise.” He mumbled through them. You laughed a little, admiring how cute he was and how he never failed to make you smile. You grabbed the spoons from his mouth before rising to your knees, leaning over, and planting a kiss on his lips. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, scooting up the bed further. You heard a small thump on the floor before feeling his cold, glove-covered hand on your hips, indicating that he had probably dropped the other ice cream. His hand guided you over his lap, lips not daring to detach from yours. You moved your left hand to remove the movies from his hands before moving his hand to your hips. Peter leaned back until you were both lying on the bed. You swiped your tongue on the bottom of his lip, wanting to explore his mouth. His stomach rumbled, causing him to chuckle before pushing your head back with his lips and dropping his head back on the bed. You pouted a little, eyes glazing over his red and plump lips. He didn’t move either of you, using his web shooters to grab the other ice cream from the floor. You grabbed your mini tub and the spoons, handing Peter one.

    “What movie do you want to watch?” He asked, grabbing a few of the movies. He shuffled through the movies, naming each one until you picked one.

    “Didn’t we watch that last weekend?”

    “Well we can watch it again. The Little Mermaid never gets too old, Parker. Besides you don’t know half the songs so you can’t say anything.” You got up from the bed, putting on the movie in while Peter plugged his phone in. Peter half-sat half-jumped on the bed before outstretching his arm. You grabbed your spoon and ice cream before snuggling up to his side.

    Throughout the movie you and Peter continued to silently eat your ice cream, occasionally sharing with each other. You both had eventually finished the ice creams and opted to cuddle instead. You were slightly dozing off, missing some chunks of the movie at a time.

    “You still up, babe?” You heard Peter mumble, the sleep evident in his voice.

    “Mhm…” You replied, turning towards him. He had taken his suit off at some point during the night, finding some sweats and a t-shirt of his (which shouldn’t of been hard because you keep some of his spare clothes in your room in case anything happens where Spider-man is needed) before coming back to bed with you. You snuggled closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso. You looked up at him, studying his features. Your eyes traveled to the same bruise you saw on his cheek earlier in the evening. You raised your hand up to his face, your fingers gingerly tracing the edges of it, scared that even the slightest pressure might cause him pain.

    “Flash.” He breathed. Your eyes focused on his. He had dark circles under his eyes, his lips set into a frown and you weren’t sure if it was from his tiredness or from the memory of Flash.

    “Peter you shouldn’t let him do that to you. You can defend yourself.” His gaze dropped from yours, only nodding in response. You stretched your neck slightly, pressing a gentle kiss on the bruise that had formed. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to your lips once more. He pulled you closer, before turning his head and reaching for the nightstand, turning the light off. You closed your eyes, resting your head on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat, finding it somewhat like a lullaby. His breathing was gentle, the light rocking of the rise and fall of his chest added a nice rhythm. You yawned, planting a kiss on his chest.

    “Goodnight, I love you.” You whispered.

    “I love you too.”

    aelin  asked:

    23 ANDREIL PLS AND THANK U <333

    23. “Let’s make a pillow fort. It’ll be great.”

    • Neil didn’t have much of a childhood 
    • it usually didn’t bother him that much (he didn’t have time to waste feeling sorry about things he couldn’t change) 
    • But every once in a while something would happen that would absolutely blow his mind and he’d get that little kid giddiness 
    • When Neil walks into Matt’s room to find pillows and blankets all over the floor he immediately thought someone trashed Matt’s room
    • He Is Pissed™
    • who tf would do this to matt
    • But then Dan’s head appears from the mess and he’s chill 
    • “Hey, Neil! Check it out!” 
    • Neil walks over to the opening and when he bends down he sees Allison, Renee, and Matt all crowded under the tent of blankets, with an array of sugary snacks to go around
    •  Poor small child Neil was so confused yet so intrigued
    • “It’s a pillow fort!” 
    • And yes, of course it is. 
    • Neil is Amazed. 
    • They all make room for Neil to squeeze inside, and as he’s sitting there, looking around the only think on his mind is I have to build one

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