pity in your eyes

Paper Hearts (Part 14)

Originally posted by tbhobi

Genre: Angst/fluff

♡ Pairing: Reader x Jungkook // Reader x Jimin

♡ Length: 5.1k

♡ Summary: It has been nearly a year since you started writing anonymous letters to Jungkook, giving him words of encouragement behind the thin mask of a paper. He never considered you as a possible suspect behind these letters, because you were nothing more than a best friend. And you couldn’t put all the blame on him either, after all, you were too afraid to confess in fear of tarnishing your precious friendship.

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#DateMeBuckyBarnes (Part 17)

Summary: When Hollywood’s heartthrob Bucky Barnes breaks up with his girlfriend, you jokingly tag him in a selfie on Instagram to express your desire to date him. What you don’t expect is a response from the man himself [Modern AU].

Word Count: 792

‘#DateMeBuckyBarnes’ Masterlist

A/N: Okay, I may or may not be straying away from my original plan with this story now. Uh oh…

Originally posted by itsfuckingvampire

“Maybe it’s a mistake. You know how the media can be sometimes. They just like to stir up trouble,” Daisy reasoned as she paced back and forth in the living room, her gaze flitting over to you. “It’s probably old photos that they used in the articles.”

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International Playboy || Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by tiredkook


Word Count: 3k

Genre: Angst/Fluff


Jeon Jungkook was someone nobody really understood. Everybody wanted to be with him, and nobody knew why. There wasn’t like there was anything good that came out of it. All of his old relationships were the exact same, it’s been that way since high school when you first met him. He would date the girl for a few weeks, and then break up with her. That was it.

Girls were attracted to the bad boy vibe he gave off. There was something about him that every girl wanted to tame, but none could. It didn’t matter how many hearts he broke, or what the girls said about him because in the end they would all have dated him again if they had the chance. And that was what made you so different.

After being his friend for three years, not once had you dated him or been in a romantic relationship with him.

Everyone was jealous of you, because you were the only girl he actively hung out with that he wasn’t dating at the time. Jungkook and you had become friends in high school and ended up going to the same college, and here you two were. You would watch him date several girls, and every time you would get jealous.

Sure, they thought that you being his friend was unfair. They thought that it wasn’t fair that you got to hang out with him all the time, apparently Jeon Jungkook was an object that was meant to be shared between everyone, and you weren’t allowed to even think about being close to him.

You didn’t like that idea. You didn’t like the whole bad boy vibe, you didn’t like the fact that he went around and broke the hearts of innocent girls, you didn’t like that he looked at everyone else that way except you. It was like there was something about you that just wasn’t appealing to him.

It hurt to know that, but you never said anything. You would never have traded being Jungkook’s friend for anything. Just being able to hang out with him and talk to him was good enough for you. It was torturous, but it was worth it. Jungkook had become someone he wasn’t, and you were the only one who got to see the real Jungkook.

When it was just the two of you hanging out in your dorm at night, he would tell you about his fears, his insecurities, his problems. The two of you would lay in bed and just talk for hours, nothing romantic or sexual about it. You would sometimes fall asleep and he would drape a blanket over you before making a bed on the floor and falling asleep. It was things like that that made you fall for your best friend.

Jungkook was someone nobody understood, except you.

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Stealing Sweaters (Part 10)

harry the oblivious idiot, i love that lol

If you’re new to the series start here! Links to the other parts on the bottom.



Harry sighed and looked through his trunk again, in case he had missed something the first three times he had looked but no such luck. All his hoodies were gone. He stood, letting his trunk fall closed with a clunk and went over to his bed, pulling up the sheets and looking underneath. He hadn’t worn any of them for ages not since things had started to go bad with Draco. He winced at the thought and the ache lodged firmly in his chest tightened.

“Lost something?”

Harry looked over at Neville, “My hoodies.” he frowned faintly, “but it’s fine. I’ll just wear one of my knit jumpers.”

Neville tipped his wand up, the fine mist that had been spraying over his plants stopped. He murmured and incantation and looped his wand over the little collection of plant, encasing them in a bubble like a miniature greenhouse. “Why not just steal one of Malfoy’s?” he suggested, “He’s always stealing yours after all.”

Harry grimaced, looking over at Draco’s empty bed, “No. We’re not… on good terms.”

Neville’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise, “You two had a fight? Well, I’m sure you’ll work it out.” He looked over his plants again and gave a little nod before turning away, “Do you want anything from the kitchens?”

Harry shook his head, smiling weakly, “No thanks.”

Neville left and Harry realized he was still staring at Draco’s bed and pulled his eyes away. He stopped though when he noticed a green jumper laying over the end of Draco’s bed. It was darker than Slytherin green and was finely woven, unlike his jumpers from Molly.

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Forbidden Love | Epilogue

▷ Jimin Angst

❥ “I think about you a little more than I should..”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Epilogue

Rubbing your sleepy eyes, you read the last message over again. He’s in front of your apartment?

Slowly, you turned your head to your right and glanced at Jimin, realizing that he was sound asleep.

Carefully, you unwrapped his arm from your middle and placed a soft kiss on his temple before you walked out of your shared bedroom.

Still confused, you walked downstairs, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling. What was he doing here at this hour?

The minute you opened the door, you were met with a completely drenched Taehyung. Slowly, he looked up and connected his blank looking eyes with yours.

Shocked, you looked at his pale face. “Taehyung, what happened to you? Why are you-”

Before you could end your sentence, he closed his eyes and whispered. “Y/N, can you hug me, please?”

Frozen, you looked at him. “W-What?”

He opened his eyes again, letting the now newly formed tears roll down his face. “Please..”

Unsure what to do, you hesitantly opened your arms. Without waiting any second, he walked forward and wrapped his arms around your body, making sure to hold you close as he started crying on your shoulder.

You, on the other hand, stood there, arms frozen mid air, not sure about your next move. What happened to him? Why was he crying?

The moment you heard his sobs, you wrapped your arms around his shaking body and stroke his back. “Shh, it’s okay.. Everything is going to be okay..”

Closing the door, you wrapped your hand around his wrist and dragged him to your living room.

Without saying anything he followed you and laid his head on your lap when you both sat down on your sofa.

Sitting there together, none of you saying anything. You placed your hand on his head, stroking his hair softly in order to calm him down a little bit.

Suddenly, you heard him whisper. “I’m sorry, Y/N.. I’m sorry for everything she has done to you..”

Your body stiffened when you heard those words, remembering the day she had “visited” you at the hospital.


Flashback: Three years ago..

“How are you feeling, Y/N?”

You looked up from your hands and connected your eyes with hers, inwardly being thankful that she was the first one to speak up and break the uncomfortable tension in the hospital room.

Lifting the corners of your lips slightly, you nodded once as you looked down at your fiddling hands again. “Good.. I think… Could have been better..”

“Stop pretending.”

When you heard her cold voice, your head snapped up. “W-What?”

Standing up from the chair, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and walked towards your bed. “I know that you’re still pregnant, you can’t fool me.”

You opened your eyes widely as you tried to control your breathing, the smirk plastered on her face making it hard for you to concentrate. “H-How do you know?”

A sarcastic chuckle left her mouth. “Money is everything, sweetie. And it’s even easier if you have a friend working at the hospital. It wasn’t hard to get your documents, darling.”

“What do you want, Hara?”

“I heard that there is a chance that your poor heart won’t be able to survive the labor. What a pity..”

You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes, the words coming out of your mouth as a hiss. “Hara, tell me what you want!”

“I don’t like sharing, Y/N. So leave. Go without saying anything. I don’t want to see you near Jimin or Taehyung ever again!”

End of Flashback


You snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Taehyung’s hands on your arms. "You must have suffered a lot.. Why didn’t you tell me?!“

Getting out of his grip, you looked away. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Taehyung.. My son has already lived three years without his father..”

“No! You can’t just forget all the things she has done to you! You shouldn’t! Y/N-”

Just before he could end his sentence, you heard a loud banging against your apartment door, making you both jump on your spot. “Open the door! Don’t listen to him, Y/N! Open the door!”

Your body shot up the moment you recognized the voice, making your heart race against your rib cage as the fear started bubbling up in your body. “T-Taehyung! She’s here! She’s going to take my child!”

“What’s going on? Taehyung? What are you doing here?” When you heard Jimin’s sleepy voice, you turned around immediately, running towards him as you clutched his t-shirt with your shaking hands. “Jimin! Hara is here! Go to Jihyun and stay beside him! She’s going to take him!”

“Y/N-”

“No, Jimin go upstairs and-”

“Baby, calm down-”

“-make sure he doesn’t leave his room-”

“Y/N!”

You flinched when you heard Jimin’s loud voice, a loud sob escaping your mouth when he wrapped his strong arms around your body. “She can’t do anything! Not when I’m here! Who is she to take our son away from us! She can’t do anything!”

You looked at him with fearful eyes when he planted a soft kiss against your lips before he walked towards the apartment door, ready to open it to a shouting Hara.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Taehyung standing near the sofa, his hands formed into fists, looking away with an unreadable expression plastered on his face.

The minute Jimin opened the door, Hara lunged into your apartment, immediately walking towards you.

Before you could even step away from her, she wrapped her hands around your arms and looked into your eyes with her teary ones, repeating each word as she shook her head from side to side. “Don’t listen to Taehyung, Y/N! He’s lying! He was the one who-”

Without having the chance to end her sentence, Hara was yanked away from you by Taehyung, his hand placed on her mouth as he hissed. “Shut up!”

Confused, you looked at them. What was he hiding?

You watched how Hara yanked his hand away, pushing him away as she shouted. “No! I will no longer do what you say to me! You already took three years away from them, Taehyung! And you’re still lying to her! Why can’t you let them in peace?!”

Taehyung hissed again. “I told you to shut up-”

“T-Taehyung, what is she saying?” You looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping that your thoughts were wrong.

“He forced me, Y/N! He forced me to send those messages! He was the one who send me to your hospital room! He’s the reason why Jihyun lived without his father for three years!”

And in that moment, you felt like a bullet went through your chest. Your vision started getting blurry, your weak knees failing on you, making you collapse on the floor.

The last thing you saw was a furious Jimin punching Taehyung in the face and a worried Hara shouting your name as you were welcomed by the darkness.


When you opened your eyes, you were lying on the sofa with a worried Jimin sitting beside you, making sure that you were okay.

When Jimin realized that you were awake, he immediately wrapped his arms around your body and started placing several kisses on your face. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Should we go to the hospital? Is your head hurting? Y/N, should I call an ambulance-”

You caressed his face softly as you leaned your forehead against his. “Shh, I’m okay.. I’m okay..”

Intertwining your hand with his, you leaned back a little bit and turned your head around, looking at Taehyung who was sitting on the opposite sofa, his face covered with newly formed bruises from earlier.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and asked. “Why did you do that?”

You opened your eyes when you realized that he wasn’t going to answer. “Taehyung, why did you do that?”

“I still love you.”

The minute Jimin heard his answer, he lunged forward but you stopped him with your hand, your eyes now fixed on Hara’s sad face.

Taking another deep breath, you turned to Jimin. “Jimin, why don’t you take Hara and go out a little bit. I think she needs a little bit of fresh air-”

Jimin furrowed his eyebrows. “No! I’m not leaving you alone with that bastard!”

Stoking his hand, you whispered. “Jimin, please. Hara doesn’t look good.. Do it for me, hm?”

Huffing loudly, Jimin stood up from the sofa and walked towards Hara, making sure to help her stand up since she was struggling with her growing baby bump.

When you were sure that they were out of the house, you placed your head in your hands and started talking. “You lied to me, Taehyung.”

No answer.

“You told me that you found a new home, that you’re in love with her.”

“No, I didn’t. At first, I thought that she was the one. She made me happy. I felt at home. But then I realized that she wasn’t you. I realized that I longed your voice, your touch, I longed you, Y/N..”

“Taehyung, she loves you! Can’t you see that she’s hurting?! You’re hurting her!”

“I’m hurting too! Can’t you see that I’m a wreck without you?!”

“Taehyung, you’re now married and your second child is on its way. You have a family who loves you no matter what.. They are the reason for your happiness-”

“No! I’m not happy! I’m not happy without you, Y/N! And if I’m not happy, then you can’t be happy too! That’s why I forced Hara to send those messages! I wanted to prevent seeing you three happy as a family!“

A sarcastic chuckle escaped your mouth. "You’re selfish, Taehyung.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m in love.”

“That’s not love. That can’t be love..”

“No matter what you say, Y/N, I’ll fight for you! I’ll win you back! You were mine and I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine again!”

You shook you’re head from side to side. “No, I’ll never be yours again. The more you try to destroy my family, the more we will hold onto each other and be happy. Do you know why, Taehyung?”

You watched how his strong expression turned into a hurt one when he looked at your lifted hand, his eyes fixed on your ring finger.

“We’re getting married, Taehyung. And no matter what you do, I’ll always go back to Jimin. I’m sorry, but I’m in love with him, Taehyung-ah. You can’t change that..”

Stories

never submitted anything to a blog like this before and it’s not going to be near as good as everyone else’s but I couldn’t get rid of the idea

Back home, you used to be known for storytelling. Not the wild and unbridled force of creation that builds and destroys entire worlds in moments, that fearsome superpower – though you have that too, but that is for you and you alone thus far, and you haven’t gotten the courage to share it – but rather the ability to retell a memory in the most entertaining way possible.

People seemed to like it when you took your memories, pieces of yourself, and told them as a story. Back home they did, at least.
At school, your roommate mutters something about not sharing so much personal information as she turns her socks inside out. In the classroom – where you can never quite remember what you’ve learned, but you always leave with more stories creeping about in your mind – occasionally students listen with a gaze just a little too sharp, the feeling of more eyes than you can see on your back.

But storytelling is in your blood, it’s part of who you are, and so you tell your stories. Happy ones, funny ones, tales of adventure and mischief that you thought were mundane until you grew older. Actually, compared to Elsewhere, they are mundane.

There’s one story you haven’t told yet, one that everyone in your family pretends not to know. It’s the tale of why you came to Elsewhere, the tale of the Thing you saw as a child, that took your cousin when the two of you played in a forest, and promised to return for you. Why you decided to go to college upstate and not attend the local university. You thought you were escaping the madness. (Sometimes you see the shadows at the corner of the stairwell and hear horns on the quad at night and wonder if you leapt from the frying pan to the fire)

It’s why you twine iron wire through your curls in decorative spires and carry salt packets sewn into your clothes, and carry old things from your grandmothers that you aren’t sure will help you (but grandmothers can be so very stubborn)

You’ve started to hear things on campus. Students who disappear and come back Different, if they come back at all, or other students who make the brave but foolish journey Underhill to rescue one of their own. Everything you’ve learned since coming here suggests that asking about it is pointless, if not outright dangerous, but at the same time you can’t help wondering if they’d know anything about the Thing that took your cousin. You know that one day you’ll find one of the students who made it There and Back Again, and when you do, you’ll tell your story.

Close to autumn you find yourself in one of the thin places on campus. It was an accident, you were simply too preoccupied with an upcoming exam to notice the air turn unseasonably warm and humid, and before you know it, you’ve walked three times the length of what the hall should’ve been, and each time you find yourself back at the lockers, the air is warmer, heavier, and the ground is softer. Somehow you instinctively understand that you must keep moving. To stop here would be a grave mistake. So you keep walking, and the air feels like the breath of something huge and moist, and you’re pretty sure there’s mud squelching beneath your feet now but you really don’t want to look.

It’s when you do look that the tiles, soft as mud and unyielding as stone, swallow your feet to the ankles and you are trapped. You curse your foolishness in three different languages – two of which are fictional and one of which was invented by you. This one feels stronger, and when you say “Flames take it!” you can almost feel a spark of phantom heat by your legs – and hear something laugh in the darkness.

“You are stuck,” it says.

You demand to be set free, even as you twine a strand of iron-wrapped around your hair and clutch your necklace – from your grandmother, a tiny bottle filled with salt and mustard seeds. You’re not sure if mustard seeds have any significance or if she just liked them – and try to look anywhere but shifting, oily shadows that smell of dust and moss. You suspect that demanding anything from one of Them will be a fruitless endeavor, but you’re frightened now and the liquid tile is sucking you down further. It’s up to your knees here. It occurs to you that you might die like this, that you might disappear just like your cousin and all those other students disappeared.

“What will you give me?” It asks.

Before you can think, you answer, “A story.”

There’s a bubbling silence before It makes a hiss that sounds too pleased to mean anything good. “Yes,” It says, “A story. But I’ve heard all yours. Make it one I haven’t heard before.”

This is tricky. The wrong story could mean death, and when It says It’s heard all your stories It probably wasn’t exaggeration. You could tell It one of your original tales, the stories of pirates and dragons and giants, but those feel too personal. There is too much of you in those stories, and that is your world, with your characters. You can’t help feeling a bit protective of them.
That just leaves The Story.

So you tell It a story about two children playing in a wood. About a thing like a skinless horse with the torso of a man grafted into its back. About fleeing in terror as the Thing chased you both through the trees, and your cousin’s squeal of fright as it grabbed him, just missing you as you splashed across the shallow creek. You go into greater detail than you ever have before, telling It things you didn’t even tell your family before they called the police.
You remember the color of the Thing’s rolling eyes and glistening muscle.
You remember the way its head seemed to wobble back and forth like it was attached to the wrong body.
You remember it promising that water would not always save you.
You remember knowing that running water might be the answer, even if you don’t have the question it goes to yet.
You didn’t want to tell this story, but you can’t stop the words now no matter how hard you try.

All is silent when you finish your tale, and for a moment you fear you were talking to the air. Then, with a slurp, the tiles spit you back out again and you’re standing on solid ground.

“That is a good story,” It says, “I think I’ll keep it.” with these cryptic words and directions to simply follow the hallway, he leaves you and you find yourself running all the way to the stairwell. You thank your lucky stars that you got out none the worse for wear and you are astonished that you managed it at all.

When you tell your roommate, she is concerned. “What did you give Them in exchange for Their help?” she asks you.

“Just a story,” You answer.

Which story? You have a million.”

“It was the one about-” and you stop. Not because you never decided whether or not to tell your roommate. Not because you’re preoccupied or distracted.
No.
The words wedge in your throat, sticking to the back of your tongue, coating your tonsils like thick dust. They won’t come out. For a moment you’re afraid that you might not be able to speak at all. So you try to tell a different story, and that comes out loud and clear. But when you try to explain again that you told the story of how Something took your cousin away – presumably Underhill if not someplace worse – your tongue seems to shrivel in your mouth and the words lodge in the soft parts of your throat like little needles.

That’s a good story. I think I’ll keep it.

It isn’t your story to tell anymore. For once, words do not obey you. Your roommate sees your rising panic, sees the tears welling up in your eyes, and takes pity on you.

“Tell me a different story,” she says, “A made-up one.”

She used to scold you about telling stories all the time, so at first you don’t understand what she’s doing. Then she asks, “What story didn’t you tell?”
The rather obvious wink when she says this gives you and idea.

Words are your tools and they always have been. Until today, they have always obeyed you. You know how to make a truth sound like a lie and a lie like truth. And so you carefully craft a lie so close to the truth, using characters so close to being you and your cousin, that you are sure your roommate understands.

Forever after this, you season your stories with lies in case you must trade them, so that the truth remains yours to tell. You learn say nearly anything and keep it just close enough to fact to fool someone.

You don’t realize that you’re learning to talk like Them until you find one trapped in the snare an upperclassman set near the library, all salt and iron. It yowls like a cat and screams like a child and its three hands scrabble for purchase. It wants out, you know this.
You cock your head and say, “What will you give me if I release you?

It’s only fair, you think. A story for a story.
You’re playing a dangerous game.

[x]

Say Something

Prompt: Say Something

AN: Damian won, and I’m sorry ahead of time.

Words: 1088

Fandom: DC


          He holds your hair back as you throw up, and with his free hand he rubs your back. As the last of your lunch vacates your stomach, you find yourself wanting to sleep. The fatigue has become more persistent lately, but they say that’s common.

          Damian helps you stand, and leads you out of the stall. He continues to rub your back as giggling girls walk in. They stop at the sight of you two, and you just know that the rumors will be all over school tomorrow. “Do you want to head back to the nurse, or do you feel well enough to go back to class?”

          You sigh, “I feel well enough to be dead.”

          He just smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulder. There’s no fuss or muss, as he leads you out of the school and to your car. You don’t fight him as he helps you into the passenger seat and takes the keys. Moments after the car pulls out of the school parking lot, you fall asleep.

          You wake up to a failed attempt of whispering. There’s been a strong rule against girls going upstairs since you and Damian hit your teen years, so you’re lying on the couch in the den. When you open your eyes it’s to see Bruce Wayne staring at you. Once glance at his eyes, tells you that he knows, and that fact makes you want to scream.

          You throat is dry, and your voice is raspy as you say, “You have to be the biggest snoop I’ve ever met.”

          He isn’t give a chance to respond as Damian and his brothers come tumbling into the room. Barbara and Cass are behind them, and they both grin as they take a seat on either side of you.

          It takes a moment for Damian to throw Dick and Tim off before pinning Jason. The family rogue just grins up at you and asks, “So when are you due?”

          You can’t help it, you laugh. You laugh long, and hard before you go into a coughing fit. Barbara pats your back in an effort to help, but you wave her off. You lean back into the couch, as the fit fades away. You smile. “I wish that were it Jason. I really, really do.”

          You can feel Damian’s eyes on you. You can see the confusion as he gets off his brother, and sits down next to you, as Cass automatically makes room. You take his hand, and take a deep breath “I wanted to tell you in private, but to honest I don’t really want to say this again.”

          “What’s wrong?” All sense of humor has vanished from the room, and you can feel Bruce’s eyes on you, his mouth set in that hard grim line.

          “Do you remember when we first met, how my hair was really short. We were ten, and it was the first day of school, and I was being teased because I looked like a boy, and you shut everyone up by saying you liked it because it was practical?”  

          He nods slowly. “Of course I remember that. You had this spark in your eye that said you didn’t give a damn what they said. And I thought, finally a girl who knew what’s what.”

          You smile, and then swallow, because you can feel the tears coming “I never told you why I had that short hair. I didn’t want to dwell on it, and I didn’t want to see pity in your eyes or anyone else’s for that matter.” You take another deep breath, and Damian’s grip tightens on your hand. “I was sick for a lot of years Damian. Spent most of my life in hospitals. I had only been in remission a year when I started at Gotham Academy. It was my first real school. I was so excited. And then I met you, and you were my first real friend, then my first real boyfriend, and I was so certain. I was so certain that I was in the clear.”

          The first few tears start streaming down your face. “But I went in for a checkup a few days ago, and I’m no longer in the clear. My cancer is back, and it’s aggressive. They want me to start chemotherapy on Monday.”

          The entire rooms gone silent. And as you glance at faces you see a lot of closed eyes, and a few tears. Tim is the first to speak, “Wayne Enterprises has some amazing cancer research facilities, and trials going on. We can get you into any of those, all we have to do is place a few calls.”

          “And those we don’t run, we can also get you into, or start whatever needs to be done,” Dick adds.

          Jason’s voice is rough as he says, “We can take shifts being with you while you’re in the hospital too. That way you’re not alone.”

          Bruce’s face is solemn as he says, “Whatever you need we’ll get you.”

          You give a small smile of thanks as you turn back to Damian. He staring at you, this look of complete devastation on his face. He’s been through so much pain in his life, and you hate to be the cause of more. You turn back to look at him, to see him with his head tucked against his chest. “Damian, please say something,” you try softly. When he doesn’t, you do. You say the words that can set him free, even if it means breaking your heart in the process. “Damian, I love you, but if this is too much for you, or you need to leave for your own good, I will understand. This isn’t going to be easy, and I might not …”

          “DON’T YOU DARE SAY IT, BECAUSE IT IS NOT AN OPTION.” And as he looks up at you, you see the tears. You’ve never seen Damian cry, not once in six years, even when he’s been hurt. He kisses your hand and says “You, are going to live a long life. We are going to be together for a long time, and neither of us is going to die until we’re well into our nineties. And when we do it’ll be moments apart like those couples in those articles you keep making me read. DO you understand? I will not lose you.”

          And as he breaks down crying you hold him, because more than anything, you want what he just described.

Reggie x Reader: Fingers and thumbs, baby. (Part IV)

A/N: YOUR SELF PROCLAIMED MOTHER HAS ARRIVED TO PROVIDE! Anyway I hope y’all enjoy part four of this mini series. We’re almost there my lovelies.

Plot: When Reggie and (Y/N) have been bestfriends their whole lives but the universe had other plans.

Originally posted by ivanxna

You fixed your hair for the third time as you sat at your usual booth at Pop’s. The whole day got you thinking and you decided, it was unfair to Reggie’s part if you were going to hold it against him that he didn’t like you back. You can’t put all the blame on someone who didn’t have any idea of your feelings in the first place.

You toyed with your necklace.

Maybe, it was God’s plan that you weren’t able to confess. Maybe it was fate’s way of stopping you from destroying your most precious friendship with Reggie. What’s so wrong about being just friends, anyway? You did it once and it was the happiest moment of your life, you were pretty sure you can handle this.

It was time to fix everything. You already lost the chance of Reggie being your boyfriend but you still had your position as Reggie’s bestfriend and you will not screw that up. Not now, not ever.

You glanced at your watch and noticed one hour passed from the supposed time Reggie was supposed to arrive.You finished your first milkshake and ordered another while replacing Reggie’s melted one. Coach must be killing them right now. Well, it would make sense since their championship game was just right around the corner and Reggie had been killing himself to prepare for it.

Hour two.

Maybe, he fell asleep. You texted him once again and tried to call but it was left unanswered. You called a few more times hoping the ringing would wake him up but you gave up after the sixth try.

Hour three.

He didn’t forget, did he?

No, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you. Reggie wouldn’t ditch you like that. You waited. For a call, a text, an excuse, a sign to show you that he still cared. That he didn’t forget. That he didn’t forget about you.

That you mattered.

Hour four.

You woke up with a start when you heard the familiar ringing of the bell when the door opened eager to see if it was Reggie’s disheveled hair and guilty face that would greet you but instead, you found the boy next door.

He ordered his usual from Pop’s before glancing around and beaming when he saw you.

“Hey there, bud.” He said sitting in-front of you. “Late night?” he asked as he pouted towards my laptop.

“Nah, I’m just waiting for Reggie.” You said closing your laptop that you used as a distraction to keep you entertained.

Archie’s smile suddenly dropped. “What?”

“Reggie,” You repeated, to clarify that you were waiting for him without needing to repeat the whole sentence. You rolled your eyes when Archie still looked surprised. “He said we would meet here. Y’know the usual.”

“But (Y/N) –“

“But he is late though and I can’t wait to drown him in guilt when he arrives.” You said stretching your arms a bit and felt the smallest relief as it popped.

“(Y/N) – “

“Have you seen him after practice? Maybe he fell asleep and –“

“(Y/N),” you stopped in the middle of your sentence when Archie took your hand to get your attention. “Reggie isn’t coming.”

This time it was your turn to find the right words to say. “What?”

“I …” Archie sighed. Goddamnit, Reggie. “I saw him leave with V after practice he –“

“No.” You slammed your palm in the table making Archie flinch. “He wouldn’t do that to me.” You repeated the very same words you have been using to convince yourself that Reggie did not forget about you.

Archie stared at you as you looked away. Embarrassment and self-pity filling you inside. Tears tried to escape your eyes but you didn’t give them the permission to fall.

“You’re right,” you gave a glance to Archie who smiled warmly. “He wouldn’t do that to you.”Your bottom lip trembled but you masked it with a cough. “I’m sure he’s probably running here right now and kicking his ass.”

That got a small laugh out of you.

“I’ll just wait with you okay?” You shot him a look. Knowing full well he is just staying to make sure you had someone to take you home if Reggie did ditch you. “So that he’ll feel even guiltier when he arrives.” He lied with a smile.

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. “Okay.”


Reggie woke up with a start from a bad dream he couldn’t remember. He heard ringing from the other side of Veronica’s room only to see that it was his phone that was the source of it. Thinking it was the alarm he set he stood up to turn it off but felt his hands being stopped by a heavy weight only to see his girlfriend sleeping peacefully.

“Babe, hey,” he whispered, shaking her gently. Veronica groaned in protest. “Wake up, I need to go home.”

Veronica opened her eyes only to see Reggie already reaching out for his shirt and letterman jacket. “Come on now, stop pouting.”

Veronica groaned even more and reached out for her phone. “Reg, can’t you just sleep over? It’s like –“ She squinted from the bring screen on her phone. “It’s 11:12, baby. Can you please stay? Pleeeease?”

Reggie froze. “What did you say?”

“What?” Veronica watched as her boyfriend literally sprinted towards the other side of the room to check his phone.

Shit.

Reggie literally felt every bone in his body turn frozen solid when he saw that it was in fact past 11 and the ringing did not come from his alarm that he missed four hours ago but from Archie who had been calling him non-stop. Along with a bunch of missed calls from you.

“Ron,” he whispered. Afraid that if he spoke any louder his heart would give out. “I need to go.”

“Wait, wha—“

“Sorry! I’ll see you tomorrow. I just – I got to go.”

Reggie forgot all about his car or the fact that he just left his girlfriend, who is probably thinking of ways on how she can break up with him, in her room, too focused on the fact that he just left you all alone on that booth in the middle of the goddamn night.

He just ran and ran and ran the image of your sad distant stare as you waited for him only giving him more adrenaline to run faster. He could feel his legs shaking but he saw the fading lights off Pop’s in the distance and nearly broke the door as he pushed his way inside scaring the life out of Pop’s.

“Jesus, boy,” Pop’s reprimanded. “You gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Pops- wh- where’s –“

“Oh, (Y/N) just left with that Archie boy a few moments ago.” Pop’s said following Reggie’s stare in your booth. Mental images of your hopeful face making his chest tighter by the second and the sudden information of Archie being with you tonight started to fill his veins with poison. He didn’t know what was worse, you being alone or you being with Archie filling up his spot. “Was she expecting you? She looked like she was waiti-“

He ran outside hoping to see a glimpse of you or that red- headed—Archie!

Reggie immediately dialed Archie’s number. “Come on Arch, come on—Archie!”

“Reg, where the fuck were you?!”

“Look I fell asleep and –“

“You better not use that goddamn excuse on (Y/N) she waited for nearly seven hours at Pop’s!”

Reggie was starting to get irritated. Since when did Archie become so attached to you? That was Reggie’s job, not Archie’s, not anyone’s. “What the fuck were you doing with her anyway? Tryna score with my girl, Andrews?”

“What?” Archie’s brain could not even comprehend Reggie’s nerve but he understood that this was Reggie’s defense mechanism.

“I know you like her, Andrews ever since when we were young. And if you’re tryna use this opportunity to –“

“I’m not trying to use anything, Reggie! I just stayed with her because it was late and she had no one to take her home!” Archie nearly screamed on the phone. Defense mechanism or not, he was being an asshole and Archie is going to put an end to it. “In fact, you should be thanking me because if it wasn’t for me your girl would be walking back home in the dark!”

Reggie sighed trying to calm down. “Can I just … can I talk to her?”

“Yeah … that’s the problem pal.” Archie knew that was the closest thing he can get from Reggie as an apology .

“What?” Reggie was pretty sure he was literally gonna die if his heart doesn’t slow down but his fear surpassed his worry about the state of his body.

“I don’t think she’d even want to see your shadow by the looks of it.”

Reggie slumped in the middle of the parking lot. His legs finally giving out. “Is she … is she mad?” Reggie closed his eyes when he realized that mad was the overstatement of the decade.

“No,” Archie said but he sighed making Reggie confused. “Just, I don’t know, sad? Distant? I don’t know how to explain it.”

Reggie couldn’t help but rub his face, trying to calm down. Fuck, that was so much worse. Reggie would’ve preferred if you actually had fun with Archie and completely forgot about him and his slip-up.“Just … where is she? Is she safe?”

“Yeah, I just took her home. But Reg—“

Reggie ended their call before standing up and running towards your house. He’d be damned before he’d let you sleep sad. He felt a buzz on his phone but ignored it, guessing it was Archie trying to stop him.

Reggie literally prayed the whole way to your house to anyone or anything listening from up above. Praying his legs doesn’t give up on him so he can arrive at your house in one piece. Praying you are still awake so that he can apologize properly and you can just forget about this and cuddle. Praying for anything, hell, he’d even accept your anger but he can’t handle you being sad because of him.

When he arrived in your house he swore the ground was moving under his feet but he ignored the urge to throw up. He looked up at your window and saw that you were, in fact, awake. You even looked like you were waiting for him but of course you weren’t. Your gaze was far from him. Your eyes were roaming at the view of Riverdale from your room, trying to memorize every crevice and houses, afraid of forgetting and at the same time wanting not to remember.

Your attention was suddenly torn from your broken yet beautiful town and into your phone.

I’m sorry I’m late.

You looked up from your phone and saw Reggie, a breathless mess, the one thing that was anchoring you into this town. The one thing that somehow managed to become everything you wanted. The person who managed to make you realize that you have a heart while simultaneously breaking it, all without his knowledge.

You wanted to hold on to him until your fingers started crumbling from the pressure but you knew you had to let go.

The tears started falling.

Me too, you replied.

Before Reggie could finish reading the text and trying to call you to try to talk you have already closed your curtains and turned off your phone.

“Goddamnit!” Reggie kicked the grass, trying to find a way to let his anger and frustration out. Once again he sat on the floor, leaning on the tree beside your house.

This was probably the worst fight you had with him. God, did he fuck up.

He opened his phone again to try and call you once more only to see Cheryl’s text from a few minutes ago that sent a chill down his spine.

I warned you.


Reggie was early at your house. Way too early. He brought your favorite sunflowers from the other side of town and drove twice the speed limit to your home to make sure he didn’t miss you even if he had an hour to spare.

“Reggie!” your mom greeted, giving him a hug. “What a pleasant surprise, darling. Come in, come in.”

“Thank you, Mrs. (Y/L/N)” He said giving your mom a hug. “Is (Y/N) –“

“Oh she’ll be down in a few. Sit, darling.” Your mom went back to the kitchen. “Breakfast?”

“Oh no thank you Mrs. (Y/L/N) I’m good.” Reggie doesn’t think he’d actually have the strength to keep whatever he ate inside him, too nervous at your reaction.

“Hey mom I’ll be going early –“

Dumbfounded would be the word to describe as you saw Reggie sitting at the sofa with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a nervous, almost sheepish smile on his face.

“H-Hey.” He said handing you the bouquet. Before you could turn away you saw your mom looking at you at your peripheral view that you gave him a small smile before taking it. “Thanks.” You walked away from him and looked at your mom. “Mom, do you have anywhere to place this on?” you asked.

Your mother smiled sweetly. “Of course,dear.” She said taking the flowers. “I’ll put this in a vase and place it in your room.”

Before you could protest she already walked away going to God knows where. Which left you in an awkward silence with the person you least expected to have an awkward silence with.

“Let’s go?” he asked, trying to slice the tension but trying to ease his way back to you.

“I forgot I actually had to do something –“

“I can wait.”Reggie said too eagerly.

“Reggie –“

“Please (Y/N),” he pleaded. The mask finally falling off to show his desperation. “Let me fix this.”

(Y/N) stared at him but looked down. “There is nothing to fix.”

“I hurt you.” That statement hurt Reggie more than he realized. Saying it out loud really made everything too real. “I fucked up and you are still hurting. God, you couldn’t even look at me for three seconds straight anymore and—and I hate that. And that’s what I want to fix.”

You kept staring down at your shoes while Reggie kept looking at you. Not realizing why he was so afraid to take his eyes off of you. Afraid that you’ll run, which was stupid, but Reggie couldn’t take any chances.

“Walk me to school?” You muttered, looking at him through your lashes.

Reggie gulped but nodded. “Whatever you want, pup.”


When you said ‘walk’ Reggie expected that you wanted to talk but you seemed to be focusing on everything but him. And Reggie is just itching to talk, to hold your hand, to assure himself that he have not completely fucked up the one thing that was constant in his life.

“(Y/N)—“

“Where were you?” You suddenly spoke, making his heart jump. “Last night.” You clarified.

“I fell asleep. Ronnie and I,” the silent wince in your face did not go unnoticed by Reggie and he knew he literally just made everything so much worse. “I—We were messing around and we fell asleep. I set an alarm but I slept through it I’m really sorry (Y/N/N).”

You just nodded and that’s when Reggie started getting defensive.

“Really, pup, why are you making such a big deal out of this. I promise not to do this again, I swear.” He said standing in front of you and offering you his pinky.

“What did you just say?”

“I said I promise –“

“No,” You scoffed and opened your mouth but no words came out. “Wow, you really forgot, huh.”

“What do you mean?” He started getting nervous, if that was possible.

“I thought … I thought that’s why you invited me for a sleepover and—and at Pop’s but …”

“(Y/N/N) please tell me.” He said putting his hands at your shoulders.

Your sad glare made Reggie want to travel back in time and punch his sleeping ass just to stop this from happening. You suddenly looked inside your bag and shoved at Reggie a neatly wrapped box. “Happy anniversary, asshole.” You muttered. “Or is that invalid too since you have a girlfriend already?” You shot at him adding weight on the guilt on his heart. “I hope getting laid was fucking worth it.”

Reggie felt numb.He couldn’t believe he actually forget your ‘anniversary’. His mind got so messed up with football and Veronica that he forgot to buy the bracelet he reserved at the local jewelry shop.

“Jesus fuck, Reggie,” he whispered. He whipped around and ran towards you. You, on the other hand, tried so hard to stop the tears from falling but you were just so full of it.

“(Y/N/N) please I can fix this.” Reggie gasped trying to hold on to you but you just shoved him away. “(Y/N/N)! Wait please!”

“Shut up, Reggie!” you screamed, scaring the shit out of Reggie. “I … I need to go.”

Reggie wanted to protest but you were already on your way so he decided to respect your request. He didn’t realize how literal you meant that.

He didn’t realize he just made the mistake that will screw his life upside down.

Could you do a smutty imagine where tom or peter are on the phone with hazy or tony and you’re giving him a blow job.


 Over 1000 words of Tom smut. Hope you guys are happy


Tom pushed your shirt up further, pressing you further against the wall as his lips continued to trail down your neck. You felt him smirk as your fingers tangled in his hair, a guttural moan echoing around the room. You pulsed under his exploring hands, back curving in pleasure.

Keep reading

- are you going to eat this?

a/n : so i took a stab at a jughead one shot, which was surprisingly challenging because his character is so interesting and hard to get right. but hey, have some drabble that i’ve managed to spew into some writing.

word count : 974 

{jughead x reader}

Originally posted by noahsweetwne


Disappointment. That’s all you seemed to ever feel. That nauseous drop in your stomach, an inconsolable hole. But you were used to it, you’d been let down your whole life. Your dad leaving when you were just eight years old; your mother becoming a work-consumed robot, incapable of showing human emotion to her daughter; and your brother just being a down right dick. A trait he had once again managed to show tonight.

You sat in the retro red booth of Pop’s, a chocolate shake sat in front of you. You swirled the straw around the tall glass before taking another sip. You were waiting for your brother to show. You wanted nothing more than to see him but apparently he didn’t feel the same way. As much as you didn’t want to admit it you knew he wasn’t coming. You’d been sat with false hope for about an hour now, simply watching the people that entered and exited the diner. You saw your friend Archie Andrews enter the shop earlier to pick up and order. You two weren’t best friends but you were his lab partner. He gave you a smile which you returned with a fake one, although he didn’t pick up on your facade.

“On the house” you heard a voice from beside you as a basket on onion rings was placed on your table. You cast your eyes up to familiar face of Pop. He gave you a pitiful smile as he wiped his hands on his apron. You gave him a grateful smile. “Didn’t show again?” He questioned despite already knowing the answer. This wasn’t the first time your brother had stood you up, and you’d managed to admit yourself that it most likely wasn’t the last. You let out a sigh.

“More onion rings for me right?” you joked, your sardonic humour presenting itself earning yourself a look of pity off Pop. You picked one up and shoved it in your mouth, silently praying the conversation would end. You appreciated Pop’s charity but you hated people feeling sorry for you.

“Just let me know if you need anything” He offered, motioning to your almost empty chocolate shake. You followed his gaze and picked up the glass and passing it to him with a sheepish smile. He took the glass from your grip and smiled, walking off to top it up. You relaxed back into the booth again, your eyes landing on the basket of food in front of you. However, the pang of frustration managed to put you off as you edged them further away from you across the table. You ran your hand through you dark hair, another sigh of melancholy escaping your lips. Just another night at Pop’s alone after being stood up by Dean the dick you thought. Pop returned with your shake and placed it on the table, leaving you with your thoughts. Before your mind could crawl any further into the dark hole of depression and angst someone slid into the other side of the booth.

“Are you going to eat this?” he inquired, your basket of onion rings now sat in front of him. You shook your head silently, as he popped one in his mouth. Who was this boy? His eyes were slightly sunken, a dark shade visible underneath them. He had dark unruly curls that poked out from the front of his dark beanie. His small pink lips moving slightly as he consumed your food. You stared at him as he ate, taking in his features.

“Do you always stare at people when the eat their food?” He questioned catching your gaze; your cheeks reddened slightly. His tone was serious, put the playfulness in his eyes was evident enough for you to make a comeback.

“Well technically it’s my food” You retorted with a smirk. He stopped chewing for a second and stared at you, his dark eyes boring into yours.

“Touché” He countered, picking up another onion ring. You sat in silence as he finished the basket and sighed with content. You snickered quietly as he cleaned his fingers on a napkin. “So” he started, pushing the basket aside and leaning forwards. You did the same, placing your hands on the table. “Why have you been sat alone until now looking like humpty dumpty just fell off the wall… for the twenty fifth time?” He asked. You let out a laugh, your lips twisting into a playful smirk.

“How did you know i love Humpty Dumpty so much?” You sassed. He rolled his eyes playfully and shrugged his shoulders. You sighed before responding. “My douchebag of a brother stood me up, again.” A look of pity flashed across his eyes, sparking your short-temper. He opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “Anyway, i don’t know why i’m telling you this when i don’t even know your name,” you quipped, taking a sip of your shake.

“Jughead Jones, the third” he responded causing you to choke on your beverage. He inspected you factiously, as if waiting for you to respond with a witty comment. But you didn’t. You composed yourself and stuck your hand out. “Well, Jughead Jones the third, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance” You said gallantly. He gladly accepted and took your hand in his.

“So, mysterious Humpty Dumpty lover” he started making himself comfortable on his side of the booth, wait laced in his tone. “Tell me more about yourself, how do you feel about Jack and Jill?” You let out a giggle, earning a grin from the boy opposite you. You may have only just met Jughead, but you were already thanking fate for throwing you both together as you sat in Riverdale’s famous chock’lit shoppe until the early hours of the morning, escaping your merciless realities together.

Black Sheep (Part 1)

Originally posted by spderman

Summary: Not only are you the outcast at school, but also in the hero world. After a gruesome fight, you realize maybe being different isn’t so bad afterall.

A/N: Not requested, but I’m super excited to start this series

Pairing: Peter x reader   Part 2 {x} Part 3 {x}

Warnings: Bullying, swearing, fire, murder, blood


“Whaddup, it’s Penis Parker!”

The yell coming from Flash’s idiotic mouth made you turn your head to see him perched over Peter’s shoulder, staring him down. He muttered an incoherent phrase for a response, which made Flash grab him and turn him around, slamming his back into the open locker. 

“What did you say to me, punk? Do you really wanna test me now?”

Ned emerged from the crowd surrounding the fight and pushed himself between Flash and Peter. Flash sneered at Ned, then looked around the hallway, trying to catch someone’s eye to torment. As he began scanning your side, you quickly averted contact, staring into the blackness of your open locker.

“Hey, (Y/N). I got a bone to pick with you!”

You heard the skid of sneakers increase in speed and volume, and then a hand came to your locker, slamming it shut. You turned your neck lightly to see Flash, red in the face, breathing heavily, mere inches from your nose.

“This is probably the most attention you’ve ever gotten in your life, right here, right now, is it not? How does it feel, knowing you’re alone? No friends, family’s always out of town… Honestly, I envy them; they don’t need to see your hideous face everyday.”

You scoffed and turned on your heel, but Flash ripped you back by your shirt and threw you to the floor. He and his friends stood over you, and he crouched down to your height.

“Awe, is somebody gonna cry?”

Flash’s face got blurred by tears, and for the first time, you felt powerless. Being a superhero didn’t mean you were always beloved and admired. You were the silent sneak, a shadow master, a wallflower. You were quiet, observant and became known when it was needed. But, when you really wanted to give some justice, you were seen as a menace. The black mask you wore gave the wrong impression, but it became comforting. Especially when you were losing a fight.

Flash grabbed the collar to your shirt and pulled you closer to his face.

“No wonder you’re worthless. You can’t even fight back.”

He was right. You couldn’t fight back. Your chest felt heavy and you pushed Flash off of you. Swiftly, you grabbed your bag and flung it over your shoulder, pushing through the crowd. In the back you saw Ned and Peter watching you with pitiful eyes. When your eyes caught, they looked away, shunning you.

Scoffing lightly, you continued to run out of the clustered hallway and sprinted to the doors, pushing to get home.


You sat on a rooftop to building on the corner of 49th, peering down at the streets, busy with people and cars. In one hand you had a half eaten apple, the other held a police scanner, listening to calls. You waited in the shadow, alert for anything they couldn’t reach in time. Yet, you knew what would happen if you showed your face. They would try and shoot you down instead of the true criminals.

“We have a bank robbery at 52nd, four guys holding up workers, all armed.”

“I’m at 19th. 204, where are you?”

“I’m at 23rd.”

You sighed, pulling down your mask and hoisting yourself up, sprinting to the edge of the building, taking a running and hopped across the tops of apartment. Clearly, you were faster than any of the police cars, as you got to the bank in less than a minute. Jumping down from the roof, you turned on your heel and opened the bank door silently. A man was holding a gun up to the lady at the counter, two others were holding knives to hostages throats or waving it around. The final guy was most likely packing up the money, you couldn’t see him.

“I don’t think that’s how you open a savings account. You can totally learn about it in jail, though!”

Both robbers with knives were the first to respond, turning and sprinting towards you. The first goon began swinging his arm rapidly, and after a few failed efforts, you grabbed his wrist and threw him into the robber behind him, they both fell to the tile in a heap. Without a second glance, you turned to the armed criminal who began pointing the gun at you.

“Don’t make me use this, freak!”

“Awe, you think that intimidates me, how… naive.”

As his finger repeatedly hit the trigger, you dodged them, making a beeline straight for him, grabbing his torso and flipping him over your shoulder. You twisted his arm, and he dropped the gun. You put your foot on the weapon and snapped the guys arm. He screamed in agony and coddled the arm in tears. 

The people in the store stared at you in fear.

“Go! Run now!”

You pointed at the door, and without another look, they took off.  You hopped through the window of the teller and began walking towards the back for the final goon. He emerged with a full duffle bag and a large gun.

“Only one bag, really?”

The guy cocked the gun, which began glowing a bright orange. You charged at him, and once you began tackled him, his gun blew fire to the ceiling. You threw punches as the gun kept firing spurts of flame around the bank. Finally getting off of the unconscious goon, you looked around the bank in shock. The ceiling was falling, the glass was shattered and the two goons you first encountered were bleeding on the white tile floor. You gasped, knowing you unintentionally killed them.

Yet, looking around this bank, you didn’t feel awful. The fire began nipping at your feet, and you took a step forward, breathing in deep, bathing in the smoke. You hopped back through the teller window to have your ankle grasped by the broken armed robber.

“You… you sick freak.”

You smirked, picking up the gun on the floor, and pulling the already loaded trigger. The door to the bank opened swiftly, and you turned to see Spiderman, him shocked by the sight. You, a vigilante, standing over a body, gun in hand. He looked to see the other two dead in a heap and he began shooting webs in your direction. Dodging the webs, you fired a shot at Spiderman, wounding his thigh.

“Ah, fuck!”

You began sauntering up to Spiderman, and as he reached out to shoot another web, you took your hand and twisted it to the sky. He screamed in agony, and you put the gun in your pocket. Taking your newly freed hand, you took Spiderman’s masked face in your palm.

“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t seen as a nuisance. There could’ve been really cool super shit we would’ve done together. You, shooting the webs and me, kicking ass, right? But, you have this town in your hand. They just adore you.”

You grabbed his face tighter, and you felt him whimper.

“The time for a hero is long gone, Spiderman. Newsflash, there’s a new sheriff in town, and I don’t fuck around. Especially not with vermin like you.”

Bringing your leg up, you kicked Spiderman in the chest, heaving him into the wall behind him. You opened the door to the bank, and looked around at the police swarming the bank, guns raised to kill. Slowly pulling your gun from your pocket and setting it down on the sidewalk, you raised your arms above your head. Then, you kicked off the ground and jumped to the top of the adjacent building. 

You sprinted away, hearing the screams from citizens as the bank collapsed in itself. 

Roommates

Pairing: College AU Henry CavillxOC and Chris EvansxOC some Chris EvansxOCxHenryCavill

it’s all smut

Originally posted by 12graphics

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

Keep reading

Confidential Couple

Request from anon for an Opie x Reader, where the two keep their relationship a secret due to the reader being Jax’s little sister.

Originally posted by stilinski-ortiz

You jump as you feel a pair of hands on your waist, ripping your earphones out and looking behind you. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry.” Opie grins, pulling you back into his chest and wrapping his arms around your tummy. “I’ve hardly seen you today.”

“I know, babe, but my mom is already suspicious. We’ve gotta be careful.” you reason, relaxing back into Opie’s chest and breathing in his calming scent.

He hums in response, his head nuzzling into your neck before his lips start pressing kisses to your skin, your eyes closing as you place your hands over his. “Ope…”

“Jax is fixing up some car, the others are out.“ he mumurs between kisses, your body slowly but surely melting under his desires. “We’ve got time.”

A bang in the distance makes you jump, Opie pulling away from you as you go back to sorting through the box of family photos, your heart beating a thousand times a minute.

When you’re both convinced the coast is clear, you huff, turning around to face your secret lover. “I’m sick of sneaking around, Ope. I don’t wanna be like this anymore.”

“What, you think I do?” he asks defensively, before letting out a heavy sigh. “You’re the one who wanted to keep us a secret.”

“Yes, because I don’t fancy seeing my boyfriend and my brother at each others throats.” you snap, regretting it instantly, though you do nothing to apologise. Closing your eyes, you run your fingers through your hair, frustrated at the whole situation.

“I gotta go.” Opie says, turning away from you and heading out the room. You shake your head at his retreating figure, grabbing your stack of photos before exiting the room, heading towards the main area of the clubhouse.

Pausing your music, you grab a couple ice cold beers from behind the bar, heading out to TM. Just as you reach the garage, bikes fill your ears, the missing members flooding into the lot.

“Need any help?” you ask once you reach Jax, him straightening up from under the cars bonnet, smiling at you in thanks as you hand him a beer.

“Nah thanks, sis, I’m almost done.” he replies, cracking open the top of the bottle and taking a long gulp. “Is Ope alright? He just took off, seems kinda pissed.”

“I’m not sure.” you lie, taking a drink of your beer. Jax nods in acceptance, Chibs, Clay and Bobby saving you from the conversation.

“Doesn’t look too good with the Irish, we need to be on high alert.“ Clay warns, Jax throwing the rag he was holding on the floor. “Get everyone here, lock down.”

Your mind goes straight to Opie, and even though you know he can take care of himself, you know you won’t stop worrying until he’s back. “I’ll go get supplies. Food, drinks, extra pillows. Any requests?”

“Can you get us some cigs please, lass? You know the ones.” You nod in response, checking your pockets for your car keys and cash before practically speeding off.

“Take one of the prospects with you!” your stepdad shouts, you waving him off in response, insisting you’ll be fine.

As you’re moving around the store, throwing pretty much everything in your cart, you ring Opie for what feels like the fiftieth time, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally answers. “Do you ever stop calling?”

“Do you ever stop ignoring my calls?” you sass back, grabbing a huge pack of toilet paper and placing it in your cart. “Irish aren’t happy, we’re on lock down.”

“Shit.” he says, realisation in his voice. “No wonder Jax has been calling me.”

“Yep.” you deadpan, walking down the aisle full of candy, knowing your nephew is going to be bouncing off the walls from all the sugar. “That’s what happens when you act all grouchy, you miss information.”

“I’m not grouchy.” he defends, though you can tell he’s smiling through the phone. That’s one of the things you love about the two of you, how easy it is to forgive and forget. “Where are you?”

“I’m just at the store near Floyd’s, needed an excuse to get away so I could dial you a million times without being questioned.” you reply, already feeling a lecture coming on from your protective ass boyfriend.

“Please don’t tell me you’re alone.” he says, you staying silent. He curses under his breath, keys jangling in the background. “Stay there, I’ll be there in five.”

“Yes sir.” you tease, seduction in your tone, before ending the call. You smile to yourself as you move from aisle to aisle, content with the knowledge that you and Opie are on good terms again, no matter the circumstances.

As you reach the back of the store, the varieties of ice cream making your mouth water, a chill creeps up your spine. You look over your shoulder, the feeling that someone is watching you too strong for you to be mistaken.

You grab your cart, deciding to get the fuck out of there. Of course, your instinct is right, a hand covering your mouth and yanking you backwards so hard you almost lose your stepping.

Your heart feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest as you struggle, your screams silenced against the man’s hand. He pinches your nose, cutting off your only air supply as you frantically scan the store, praying that someone, anyone, will walk up the aisle and save you.

You look down, seeking an opportunity as you stamp on the persons foot as hard as you can, glad you’re wearing boots as the man temporarily moves back from you. You have no time to recover as you abandon your items, sprinting towards the exit.

Just as you reach the outside you feel a hand latch onto your hair, a sound of agony leaving your lips as tears fill your eyes, panic and pain flooding through you. He yanks your head back, delivering a harsh blow to your face, your cheek throbbing.

“Fucking bitch.“ the man spits, his Irish accent helping you understand his motive. You try to free yourself, but his grip is too tight, your limbs too weak to fight back.

”(Y/N)!“ You almost cry in relief at the sound of Jax, you twisting to see your brother and Opie running towards you. You’re shoved to the ground, your knees scraping the concrete, a hiss leaving your lips.

Jax rushes to your side as Opie moves to the man, and you’re thankful the lot is empty as the two men start fighting, Jax raising you gently to your feet. “Are you okay?”

You nod, tears slipping down your cheeks as your body shakes with adrenaline. Looking behind Jax, you notice the Irish man is behind held up against the wall, Opie delivering blow after blow.

“Opie! Ope!” Jax shouts, finally forcing his way between the two men. The Irish man slumps to the floor, unconscious, as Jax pushes against Opie’s chest, the taller man deliberating on what to do before he steps back. “I’ll go see if any of this shit has been caught on tape. Take my sister to TM.”

Jax jogs away, Opie’s gaze finally settling on you as he takes you in. “Jesus Christ.”

He’s next to you in a flash, slipping off his kutte and helping you put your arms through the sleeves, warmth and his scent covering you. Your body feels exhausted, drained even, but you resist Opie’s requests to pick you up, knowing you need to keep your strength up.

He’s as delicate as anything as he places his helmet over your head, snapping it shut and making sure not to trap any of your hair as he does so. Once he’s mounted his bike, you settle behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back.

Your body is heavy with fatigue as you struggle to stay awake, Opie’s natural warmth making you feel all the more relaxed.

You’re free for no more than ten seconds before you’re bombarded with questions, Opie’s bust lip being ignored once your dark purple cheekbone comes into view, Clay practically frothing with anger as your mom soothes you.

“I fucking told you to get one of the prospects!” Clay shouts, your eyes filling up again as Gemma tries to calm him down. “Why don’t you ever listen to me?!”

“Back off!” Opie booms as he stands in front of you, your fingers gripping the back of his tshirt, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep in his arms.

“Or what?” Clay responds, his voice eerily calm. “She’s my daughter, I’ll talk to her however the fuck I want!”

“Yeah? Well she’s my girl, so treat her with some fucking respect!” Opie roars, your grip tightening on his shirt as everyone falls silent. You step from behind your boyfriend just in time to see Clay lunge for Opie, Bobby and Chibs somehow keeping the two apart as they try to reach one another.

“Stop it!” you scream, everybody pausing to look at you. “Don’t you think I’ve been through enough tonight?!”

You angrily wipe your eyes as the group watches you silently, pity on all their faces. “Sweetheart-”

“No.” you cut your mom’s sentence short, your voice shaky yet strong. You shake your head in disgust, hating that they’re all acting like this when you could’ve been kidnapped tonight. “I’m going to bed, and I swear if any of you disturb me-”

You swallow the lump in your throat, refusing to break down as you turn on your heel, heading straight to the only place you know you’ll feel safe. Opie’s room.

About ten minutes later, you’re wrapped up in his duvet, wearing one of his giant tshirts and a pair of his boxer shorts. His scent is everywhere, and as much as you love it, it’s making it all the more harder to resist him.

Your phone vibrates, you fishing for it under the covers until you find it, a new message notification on the screen.

You alright? X

You smile despite yourself, messaging Opie back and telling him it’s safe to come in. He does so promptly, an apologetic look on his face as he sees your tear stained cheeks. “Hey.”

“Hey.” you whisper, your voice hoarse from shouting. Once he’s shut the door, he makes his way over to you, crouching beside the bed as he moves your hair around your ear, your eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

“I’m sorry.” he says, pressing his lips lovingly to your forehead. His tone is nothing but genuine, the look in his eyes the same.

“Me too. I didn’t mean to shout.” He shushes you quietly, a smile slipping onto his lips. “Can you come lie with me, please?”

He doesn’t even need to think about it, kicking off his boots and taking off his jeans before he’s crawling in beside you, wrapping his arms around you protectively as you nuzzle into his chest, feeling as if weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Jax knows, by the way.” he mumbles casually, his hand stroking your hair soothingly. You sit up slightly, eyes wide as you wait for him to continue. “He took it surprisingly well.”

“Really?” Hope floods your body. Maybe now you and Opie will be able to act like an actual couple. Well, once people have gotten used to the idea.

“I mean, yeah, he was pissed at first, but once he realised how much I love you, he understood.” Your heart flutters, a warm flush spreading across your face. Neither of you had even thought of the word love, let alone said it aloud, and Opie’s now nervous expression proved that.

Without hesitation, you lean forward, pressing your lips against his own, your hand going to the back of his head as he kisses you back, your skin tingling as if it’s the first time.

“I love you, too.” you say once you pull away, the words easily rolling off your tongue. “Thank you for protecting me today.”

“I’ll always protect you.” You kiss him once more, before relaxing back into his hold and allowing yourself to drift to sleep, safe in the arms of your lover.

A/N - Really didn’t plan on this being so long, but I hope you like it anyway!!! Been going through a bit of writers block so you’ll have to excuse me for the lack of updates, but I’ll keep trying to produce for you guys! See you next time ❤

Get Up//Stiles Stilinski

(A/N): Saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats was hard work, but getting Stiles up for school is even harder. Reader resorts to unorthodoxed methods for getting him out of bed.

Warnings: Sexual themes/ heated make out session, language, nudity, no proof reading (I believe that is all)

In honour of Teen Wolf officially coming to an end (and breaking my heart), I present you with this. Also my first attempt at anything “heated”, so yeeeah. Enjoy!

~*~

A monotonous beeping made your eardrums sting from the deafening pitch. Even after slamming the wretched machine off a ringing remains in your ears.

A brunette head of hair poked out of the blue comforter. Gentle snores escaped his lips while his chest moved up and down rhythmically. Along his collar bone was a dark purple blotch marking his freckled skin. A smile pulled at your cheeks as you reminisced the previous night. The two of you had planned a study session to study for your upcoming exams. It was a perfect plan since you had mostly the same classes, however you had gotten distracted.

It was a blessing to have a Stiles in your life, but a Stiles was awful for your attendance. Even with the other study sessions that you and Stiles had, you were falling behind in some of your courses. Of course, these sessions were rarely productive since the two of you became quite preoccupied with other things. Sighing, you lift the covers before cuddling up to his warm body.

“Stiles, we have to get up,” you grumble snuggling into his bare chest, your lips skimming his warm skin with each sylable. You attempt to shake him awake, but he would only shimmie your touch away. “Stiles. Get up.”

“No.” His pitiful whine makes you roll your eyes.

“Yes,” you begin, tracing imaginary shapes over his bicep with a finger. “You’ve been absent 28 days this semester already and we’re only two months into the school year.”

“Sh, go back to sleep, babe,” he hushes you. Your heart flutters from his deep, raspy morning voice. His eyes remain closed as his arms wrap around your waist, effectively securing you to the bed.

“Nope, not this time,” you respond, pushing his arms off you. Before he can pull you back into his warm grip, you’re already jaunting to the other side of the room. The bed shakes as Stiles drops his arms back to the mattress, making you shake your head playfully at your silly boyfriend.

Taking a deep breath in, you realise that it was going to take some major convincing to get that lazy lump out of bed. Your eye spots a particular item that sparks an idea in your head. A set of underwear that just so happened to be Stiles’ favourite. The corners of your lips curl into a mischievous grin while a plan develops in your mind.

Reaching for the waist band of your underwear, you begin to pull the fabric down your legs. You emphasis your hip movements with every motion as you remove it. After stepping out of the garment, you grab the other garment and toss the fresh set to the floor

“Aw, would you look at that,” you muse, pouting your lips. You turn to Stiles who was eyeing you carefully.

Bending over as far as you could, you slowly reach for the silky garment, your most intimate parts out on display for Stiles’ viewing. Your fingers play with the edge of fabric, making sure that you had given him a good look. You step through the material and slowly pull it up your legs, signaling the end of the show.

“A-Ah, fuck.” A breathy groan sounds from behind you, prompting a smirk to curl at your lips. So your plan was working after all.

“Like what you see?” You wink, shaking your behind a little bit more. At this point he was sat up against your headrest; lips parted slightly and cheeks flushed.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind waking up to this every morning,” he remarks, his tongue gliding across his lips. His hazel eyes rake your body shamelessly, memorising the layout of your body.

You toss an oversized shirt over your head, and slip the new set of underwear over your hips. As you’re about to open your closet an impacient groan grabs your attention.

“Babe, come give me a kiss,” Stiles requests with open arms. His short hair sticks up in all directions in an adorable fashion, nearly making you forget the dirty scene that just occurred.

“Just one kiss and you’ll get up?” Your lips purse as you raise an eyebrow towards him.

“One kiss and …” His voice trails off becoming so low that you can’t understand his mumbles. You simply shrug it off, assuming that he had accepted the conditions of the bargain.

Climbing over the pile of blankets that lay at the foot of the bed, you slowly crawl over Stiles’ body. Like a predator about to claim it’s prey, but little did you know that roles were about to be reversed. Straddling his legs, you lean in to peck his soft lips. The two of you act like magnets when you touch, as if attracted to each other by the laws of science and nature. Your mouth moves steadily against his,

Pure hearted and PG as you tried to make the kiss.

Stiles on the other hand was having none of that and began nibbling at your bottom lip, determined to get the most out of this. His hands grab greedily at your bottom, pressing the two of you even closer together. Chest to chest, a firey sensation flows over your body, but thoughts of school entered your mind once again.

You pull away, however Stiles has other plans and connects your lips again. Hard. Once again, you’re hypnotized by his kiss. Slow burning passion flows through your veins as you instinctively return the kiss, tangling your fingers in his course hair. Moaning into your mouth, his grip tightens around your waist; no doubt leaving finger-shaped bruises that you would wear proudly. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, making you snap out of the trance.

“No, Stiles,” you scold, pushing his chest with an open palm lightly. “We agreed one kiss and you would get up. We have to go to school today; no excuses.”

His large hands easily catch your wrists and pull them over his shoulders and around his neck, making you fall against his chest from the rigid movements.

“Well, I remember saying one kiss and something of mine would get up,” Stiles remarks. His hips roll up to meet yours, and sure enough, there was a not-so-little member poking at your inner thigh. The simple movement prompted sparks in the pit of your stomach, ones that only he seemed to ignite.

His lips meet yours again. You move in perfect sync, each move building more and more sweet pressure in your abdomen. Your heart pounded violently against your rib cage, while your head began to feel light as air. Adrenaline coursed through your bloodstream. Kissing Stiles was the best kind of high.

Without realising it, you find yourself slowly rolling your hips into his thighs, begging for more friction against your needy core. Stiles’ hot fingertips waste no time exploring under your shirt, making sure to leave none of your skin untouched. He continues to pinch, rub, and tease with his hands before they finally settling near the edge of your underwear. His touch would teasingly dip below the thin fabric every so often, but never close enough to where you so desperately needed him.

Stiles pulls away from your throbbing lips before leaving a trail of sloppy kisses along your jawline.

“You said I missed, what, 28 days? Missing a couple periods today wouldn’t hurt. Plus, it won’t be like we’re missing the entire day,” Stiles reasons in a low tone. His teeth grazing the shell of your ear, sending waves of electricity over every inch of your body. Involuntarily your back arches into him, giving him full access to your sweet spot. His mouth slowly inches over to that one area of your neck that he knew so well at a painfully slow pace.

“A couple?” It’s a struggle to speak while you’re under his mercy. Your voice raises an octave as you try to resist moaning from his skillful touches. He sucks and laps at your skin as if his life depends on it. Your nails were surely digging into Stiles’ skin, luckily he secretly loved showing off the marks you would leave on him. “How about one?”

“Hm, I can work with that for now,” he hums against the fresh mark on your neck. “But I won’t be opposed to comply when you’re begging for more.”

That cocky little shit.

“Shut up,” you growl, smashing your lips against his once more. Ah, the things this boy does to you.

~*~

Thanks for reading!

Where the quote actually comes from:

“I am just one hundred and one, five months and a day.”

“I can’t believe that!” said Alice.

“Can’t you?” The Queen said in a pitying tone. “Try again: draw in a long breath and shut your eyes.”

Alice laughed, “There’s no use in believing impossible things.”

“I daresay you haven’t had much practice.” Said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”

Light You Up
look i love him i
Light You Up

Another Boku no Hero Academia mini song! This one about Katsuki Bakugou, my extra human explosion who I love but who also needs to fIND HIS CHILL. This is the first one I wrote, actually. Hope you like if you listen!

I have lost sight of the ground
so I refuse to look down.
If I keep chasing the sky
maybe I won’t notice all that’s left me behind.

The pity clouding your eyes
is what keeps the beast alive.
Under the smoke and mirrors
I want to know somebody still sees a hero.

I’ll light you up ‘till the world is blinded.
Running on air, a prisoner in my head.
If I fall,
if lose it all,
will I shatter with my illusory walls?

I won’t be forgotten.
I’ll beat you to the end.

Qualified - Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request - “Can you do an imagine where Jeff graduates from high school and another one about his graduation party afterwards?”      

A/N: I wasn’t sure if you wanted reader involvement or not so i just kinda went for it? Also as I’ve mentioned on previous writings I am English and we don’t do High School Graduation over here so apologies if it’s incorrect.

The day you’d been waiting for for four years had finally arrived. Graduation. You were over the moon to finally be leaving school and never having to see half these people again. For the first time, you could properly stretch your wings and do anything you wanted. Standing in line waiting for your name to be called was nerve-wracking.

“Jeffrey Atkins.” Called Principal Bolan. The boy you’d been crushing on for almost the entire time you’d been at Liberty High. The boy who barely knew you. One of the only people from high school you’d miss. Sure, it would be sad, but maybe it would also help you eventually get over him. He smiled that stunning smile and took his diploma. Damn. You thought as he looked around the room he caught your eye, but you were probably just hopeful. You’d have to savour that smile in your brain.

The names were called and called until;

“Y/N L/N.” You walked up to the stage and shook Principal Bolan’s hand. You saw your parents waving enthusiastically and smiled. They were as happy as you about graduation, seeing you grow and develop as a person made them feel amazing.

—–

After the ceremony, you went to find your parents.

“Well done sweetie! We’re so proud of you.” They ran up to hug you and hand you a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

“Thank you guys, these are beautiful.” You inhaled the scent.

“It’s all over now, kid.” Your Dad shook your shoulder.

“I know, it’s weird.” You drifted off into your thoughts about the past four years, and what was to come. A tap on your shoulder interrupted your daydreaming.

“Y/N? Hey there.” Jeffrey Atkins. Even better close up.

“Oh, Jeff! Hi.” You tried to play it cool.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. L/N. I’m Jeff.” He shook your parents hands.

“Hi Jeff. Look, Y/N, I just remembered that we need to put some more money on the parking ticket, we’ll be back in about 10 minutes, you okay?” Your Mum was such a bad liar.

“Okay,” you laughed “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“So, anyway, I’m kinda having a last minute Graduation party… you in?” Jeff fiddled with the tassel on his hat.

“Woah, you’re inviting the whole year?” You couldn’t think why else you’d be invited.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He chuckled, soaking up your face.

“Okay, sure. Is there a dress code?”

“Just look as cute as you always do.” He smirked. You blushed. “Text me and I’ll give you the details.” He handed you a piece of paper with a number on it.

You just got Jeff Atkins’ number. Jeff Atkins just called you cute.

“Cool, thanks, I will.” again, you tried to play it cool, but you ended up grinning just a bit too hard. With a wave, Jeff left.

—–

Obviously, you’d been to parties before, but you’d never been to a Jeff Atkins party. Honestly, you were incredibly nervous. As heart-fluttering as Jeff’s comment about the dress code had been, it hadn’t made your decision any clearer. So, you picked out something Hannah had complimented you on at school the other day, and went on your merry way.

It was exactly how you’d expected it. Kids-turned-adults holding their drink of choice, dancing, laughing, and generally being drunk. You’d managed to navigate yourself outside to the garden, where there was a large banner hanging reading; “HAPPY GRADUATION LIBERTY HIGH 20–”.

There were some beers and ciders over by a table where some people were playing beer pong, so you went and got yourself a drink.

“Y/N! Hey! You came!” There he was again. That boy who set your heart in motion.

“You sound surprised.” You sipped at your drink to hide your nerves.

“Well, I am, I mean, I just wasn’t really expecting you to come…” He scratched at the back of his neck, you could sense his discomfort.

“You didn’t want me to come.” You realised.

“No! No, that’s not it.” He shook his head violently.

“It’s fine, I’ve had a few pity invites in my time, I can leave.” You focused your eyes on the floor.

“Jesus, Y/N no, please don’t.” He reached out to grab your arm. “L-look, come play beer pong with me?” His hand squeezed your forearm slightly. “Please.”

“Jeff, feeling sorry for me is worse.”

He chuckled. “Where that idea came from I’ve no idea, and I have a lot of emotions surrounding Y/N L/N, but pity is not one.”

“Fine.” You sighed, even if he was lying, it’s not like you’d see him again.

The beer pong table was mostly filled with guys, but Jeff stuck by you.

“Alright, team switch up!” Stated Montgomery. “Atkins, over here.”

“Looks like you’re gonna have to try and beat me this time.” He smirked, before switching sides.

A few rounds passed, and then it was your turn. Versus Jeff.

“Give me your best shot L/N.”

You bounced the ping pong ball off the table, landing it in one of the cups. Your team cheered and you beamed as you watched Jeff down the contents of the cup.

“Nice play. Can you handle this though?” He teased, holding up the ping pong ball. You were beginning to feel a buzz from the alcohol.

“Try me, Atkins.” You snickered as he threw the ball, and missed. “Impressive.” You mocked.

“Fine. I give up!” He threw his arms up in faux frustration and left the table. Except, upon passing you, he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him.

“Where are we going?” You laughed nervously.

“It’s a secret. Don’t worry, I won’t take you to a hidden location and murder you.” He flashed you his winning smile, which you couldn’t help but feel eased by.

“This is…your room?” You purveyed your surroundings upon reaching the place, which was in the separate summer house type building at the end of the garden. Pictures of Jeff and his friends or family were pinned to a cork board, and there was various baseball paraphernalia. You sat on his bed, hand hovering over his duvet.

“Ding ding.” You could feel the nervous energy spurting off of him.

“So… why am I here?” You pulled at the bed slightly.

“Well, no one’s really allowed in here, so you’re special.” He shrugged, looking at his feet.

“But why?”

“Okay, so, because it’s graduation I thought - fuck it.”

Your eyes told him to continue.

“S-so, because I’ll likely never see you again, I have nothing to worry about when I admit that I’ve liked you for the past four years.” He stammered, playing with the hem of his shirt in much the same fashion as he had with his hat tassel earlier in the day.

“You’re…playing a prank on me right?”

He sat down beside you.

“Do these eyes look serious to you?” His stunning green eyes bore into you.

“I’m not sure?” You stuttered, nervous and excited.

His words from earlier rung in your head; ‘I have a lot of emotions surrounding Y/N L/N.’ What did he mean? Was this it?

He leaned in ever so slowly, giving you the opportunity to move away if you wanted, but you didn’t. When his lips hit yours it was a long dormant volcano which erupted and set your whole body on fire.

“Am I being serious now?” He whispered into your lips after breaking away.

“Try again, I need to double check.”

After another few minutes of making out with the boy you’d wished for for so long, which felt like a dream, you stopped again for breath.

“Qualified to make judgement now?”

“Qualified in school and in Jeff Atkins’ lips. Check.” You bit your lip.

“Clay told me that word would come in useful.” He flipped a strand of your hair through his fingers.

“But fuck Jeff, really? I think that’s the best kiss I’ve ever had and you waited four years until we’d never see each other again to give it to me?” You hit him.

“Ow! Don’t put this on me, you could’ve made a move.” He hit you back.

“You pushed Clay to Hannah for so long, and you couldn’t even push yourself. Disgraceful.”

“I-”

“You’re going to have to make up for lost time, Jeffrey.” You leaned in, and met the lips that made the smile you loved so much, once more.