you can put that face away now

Fire Emblem Fates vs. Siblings Cutscenes Ranked from Least to Most Extra

vs. Xander (Birthright)

  • his cutscene isn’t even that extra it’s just sad
  • he’s putting on a tough face but it’s obvious he doesn’t truly want to fight you
  • most people don’t rly want to fight xander at this point either
  • doesn’t even verbally threaten you or anything (ignore sword)
  • so the purple wave shit and the ceiling crumbling a lil is p wack but in the context of a big boss fight? pretty tame

vs. Takumi (Conquest)

  • the shaky camera angles? wild
  • the omnious pitter-patter of Hoshidan soldiers? wild
  • making said Hoshidan soldiers back away so he can slowly inch towards you? wild
  • “yOU ABANDONED YOUR FAMILY AND HOSHIDO” sudden close up “NOW PAY FOR YOUR BETRAYAL”
  • however, we, the player, expected this
  • if anything this is one of the most controlled scenes we have w takumi in conquest bc he does not call us “nohrian scum” even once

vs. Leo (Birthright)

  • the amount of fucking edge in this video? the audacity of your goth wizard brother? breathtaking
  • it’s a cemetery which is, right off the bat, edgy as hell
  • weird purple vape shit surrounding the graves
  • you don’t even hear his footsteps or the horse this is the scene when you truly realize how much power leo has garnered from the goth gods
  • the pony????? has horns??????
  • orb
  • “the sentence…………………………………….IS DEATH”
  • but using the same reasoning as takumi’s fight cutscene
  • we expected this

vs. Hinoka (Conquest)

  • ok so i feel like most people would argue hinoka isn’t that extra
  • but also consider this: the fucking helicopter
  • so hinoka rides in w her pegasus and that’s fine that’s expected except there are a million sakura petals just fluttering in the wind for some reason
  • JUMPS off her pegasus mid air just floats for awhile and then uses her spear?????? as a helicopter????? i????????
  • gets back on the pegasus ????? ???? ???? somehow ??? ??
  • hinoka’s english va adds a very. surreal aspect to this scene for me and i’m not sure why

vs. Camilla (Birthright)

  • this is the last thing you see right before you die
  • her footsteps???? her boots??????? her booty??????? big anime tiddy?????????
  • when i first watched this scene i was torn between a mixture of thirst and dread
  • why
  • “ah! i see you missed your big sister ;)” “you’re sooooo cute”
  • if you watch this you’re automatically going to hell i’m sorry
  • for some reason this scene never fails to make my depression skyrocket

vs. Ryoma (Conquest)

  • somehow ryoma just sitting solemnly while waiting for you is 100x worse than xander sadly turning around
  • in the general the raijinto is wild as hell but i feel like this cutscene just takes you to the next plane of existence
  • “you………. have done well so far………………. BUT THAT WAS JUST PRACTICE”
  • ok so like is ryoma sad that he has to fight you??? probably
  • but he’s so fucking ready and i feel like nintendo is just. trying very hard to convince us, the players, that ryoma doesn’t want to hurt us but it’s also kind of hard to believe when he gets this into it
  • he’s got his arms out just begging you to try it and you think he’s done but nope
  • ryoma goes on and starts to pose while the room just sets on fire which i feel is the highlight of this scene
  • as a big boss cutscene it’s not the worst thing in the world but it’s. definitely up there

anonymous asked:

Hey! If you're still taking prompts, could you write about neil and Andrew having a conversation about Neil's past? Like the stuff he had to do to survive and the stuff he went through with the worlds shittiest parents? Also I'm pretty sure neil has killed people like it makes complete sense so maybe andreil talking about that?

There’s a band of pale blue light nipping at the tops of the trees and sharpening the silhouettes of the houses, but everything else is fresh and dark. Andrew smokes with the pack clenched in his fist, the cherry of the cigarette winking at the street lamps winking at the orange moon.

Their front porch isn’t like the rush of the rooftop, but he can get that same jitter of fear from Neil nowadays, and he’s more portable. He’d left him knotted in the bedsheets an hour ago, and knowing he’s inside somewhere at his back is burning him up. Andrew inhales and focuses on the exhale, the way the smoke still tries to hurt him when it should’ve given up. He likes that nicotine doesn’t leave him alone.

Neil slips out the front door and lets the screen door clatter, and Andrew knows that he’s upset before he sits down two steps below Andrew, holding his own head.

He doesn’t ask; just smokes fervently. The moon bobs its head sympathetically, wind catches the smoke and breaks it over Neil’s head like water on rocks.

It occurs to Andrew that Neil isn’t going to start this conversation, because he likes to think things through on his own, solve them wrong, and tell Andrew about his mistakes later. He’s insufferably convinced of his own problem-solving abilities, then obsessed with the mechanism of his own missteps.

“What?” Andrew asks impatiently. He flicks ash from his cigarette and holds it out in front of Neil’s face. Neil sidles through his own tangled thinking for long enough to glance up. He leans forward and sucks the smoke from between Andrew’s fingers.

When he looks away, gusting smoke from his open mouth, he says, “Matt called. We fought.”

You fought,” Andrew guesses.

Neil looks agitated, blue in the choked light, eyes black and furious. “He was being unfair. He keeps trying to tell me what’s right or wrong lately, because he thinks I’ve been— been deprived, like my experiences were outside of humanity, or morality, and it’s so— condescending.”

“You’re only realizing this now? All of the foxes are condescending. It is the only way they can avoid their own failure.”

“This was different,” Neil says, shaking his head. “I can tell when they’re saying things because they want to see my reaction, and this wasn’t that. He meant what he was saying.”

“And what was that?”

Neil goes gagged silent. He shifts backwards up to Andrew’s stair without looking at him, settling into the groove worn into the wood.

“That killing someone makes you a monster. That murder is the worst thing you can do to a person.”

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Sokovian cuddles

Anon request:

Hi there! I’m in love with your blog, and I know that there are a lot of specifically Pietro blogs, but I love your style, so I was wondering if you could do something of Pietro? Maybe it’s movie night and the reader never told anybody she liked to cuddle but Pietro kinda offers and he can’t stop staring at her and saying cute things then they fall asleep together all tangled. Idk I just need FLUFF!


A/N: I’ve changed the ‘never told anybody she liked to cuddle’ to ‘haven’t been cuddled for ages’ - I hope you still like it?


Word count: 1.4k


Warnings: none, this is pure sweet fluff.

Originally posted by deanimagines67



Another movie night, another rom-com on the agenda. How delightful, You thought to yourself. Everyone around you is either loved up or is having a casual friends-with-benefits arrangement. Meanwhile you’re stuck in the Avengers Tower, the rarest creature of them all - a singleton.

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Carousel | 01

Character: Min Yoongi x reader (oc)

Genre / word count: Angst, Future Smut/Mature scenes, Arranged Marriage! AU / 7,089 words

Summary: He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it?

Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05

Cr.


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Tom Holland x Reader: Apartment

Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 7,132


No 1: the coffee maker incident (which was all harrison’s fault)

The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.

“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more, taking in the features of Tom’s place.

You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go catalog. None of it looks like him, and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow the sound of two voices into his kitchen.

“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.

There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but something akin, you could imagine.

“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”

“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify. “It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make anything.”

Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong. You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button again, just to be certain.

The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.

“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head. Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you remembered it being much shorter.

“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”

“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch, walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the island as you examined the coffee maker.

You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides, and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.

“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.

“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with something.

“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher. What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”

“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.

“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him think you weren’t the person for the job.

Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.

“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room, shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.

Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand and asking for a knife.

He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a sharper one.”

Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You snorted, wondering if he was actually afraid of you with a knife.

“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both bowed your heads with work to do.

This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze, attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in, waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.

Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.

He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.

“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it, holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going to stay anyways.

Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on, Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”

That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic thing. “For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.” There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.

The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door. 


No. 2: The incident where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong

You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I took this” without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.

Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back, revealing a brunette that was not Tom.

His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her feet and scram.  

It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly, as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.

You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your jealous mind.

“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.

Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.

Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and punch your teeth out.

The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of grey porcelain scattering across the floor.

You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little, resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.

Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.

She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut, leaving the two of you in the hall.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might have done this.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard, with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and it makes you so frustrated.

“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and says “You don’t have to do that. Just go on a date with me and we’re even.”

But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.

This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.


 No. 3: the incident where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)

It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.

And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde that would.  

It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend wasn’t around.

After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty, almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find the two (or three, there was no way she could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.

It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But it felt exciting.

You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.

The pounding in your head increased when you heard with clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door with your fist.

“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide grin upon seeing you at the door.

“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.

“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease, but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them the most.

Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man Tom has something to tell you.”

The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved Jacob weakly.

“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that followed proved otherwise.

After another round of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men, who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the entire situation read badly.

“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“

“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”

“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long. “We’ve met before.”

“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.

“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”

“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you off.

“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.

“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.

“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking between the four of them before sighing.

“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.

“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other chance!”

“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell her!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met’?”

It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as you struggled to understand.

Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t plan on telling you.

It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even bigger than that was the idea that each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked anyone to silence.

Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.

In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.

But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.

Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream


No. 4: the incident where the tables have turned

Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward. For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in one piece.

Maybe because you were the one seeing him.

Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed beyond compare.

Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted, “Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”

It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot, but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.

“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think was ‘So her name was Alice.’

You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind him that you were next door if he needed you.

In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time or place.

“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom joked, which you smiled at.

“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed, bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it, you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”

His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before, and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed like he belonged here, because he didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had going on here.

There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.

“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”

He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.

“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture. You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional human pyramid.

“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.

“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.

“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated, standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence, before looking over to Tom.

His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.

“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful. But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him, heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to look for.”

“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down. You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell him yes; absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was sure to be a discount somewhere.

But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly stepped towards you.

“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling his response.

Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights. Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would come true.

There was a calm silence that settled in between the conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.

“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You smiled, before jumping up.

“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue designed cup. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well, hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.

He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them all.

“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,” you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.

“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.

You stared around, wondering if you could find differences in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.


No.5: the incident where everything becomes clear

You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons only you can understand.

Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.

“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion, because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.

Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you regained proper footing.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.

You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you wanted.

You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex. And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that probably cost less than her foundation.

Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.

You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor in it.

The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.

So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him face you.

He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside his apartment on a daily basis.

His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles. Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part of you felt in place.

Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.

You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your lips.

He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You just did it, because? Just because you could?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in love with you too.”

Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.

“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head, causing him to peek at you through his fingers.

“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”

“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”

“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though, smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.

From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”

Shock Horror

(Gif source: x)

Characters- Dean x Reader, Sam
Summary- Dean comes back from a witch hunt not quite himself. You do your best to help, and hope that it’s enough.
Word Count- 1,889
Warnings- Angst, Fluff, Language.
Beta- @jpadjackles  **re-edited**
A/N- Prompt: ‘Caught Up In You’ by 38 Special Requested by @anon. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, thank you all so much for 2.5k followers! I love y’all so much <3


As you crouch in front of the open passenger door, you look over the man in the bench seat. The man you see is far removed from the usual Dean Winchester you knew. He’s eerily quiet, sitting stiffly as he stares, unseeing, out of the windshield. The impala is parked in the bunker’s garage, but he just sits there, motionless, except for the occasional lethargic blink.

When Sam and Dean came back from their hunt, you expected them to be in one of two moods. The first and most preferred was the giddy excitement of a job well done, beers and pie all around. The second was less desired, the quiet thoughtfulness of a rough hunt.

Right now you would take the quiet over this.

Keep reading

Sweet Dreams **

Request- Hi! Could u do a Bucky imagine where the reader is Tony’s daughter and she had a wet dream about Bucky and tells Wanda and Nat about it and the boys hear the conversation and Tony gets all protective and all? You can choose the final!!I love your blog btw♡ from @awesomebrokenangelworldus-blog

Bucky Barnes X Stark!Reader

Word Count: 1763

Warnings: There’s a wet dream! that’s pretty NSFW.

A/N: Hello! I’m sorry this took a while! I hope this is alright!! Please let me know :) xo 

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Clubs and Blood

Request: jerome smut? where he gets incredibly jealous where it gets to the point where he kills the guy right in front of you thats been flirting with you all night? and then ends with angry passionate s m u t ?

•••••

Ahh I can’t believe this is happening! We never go out on a date! I jump up and down excited and curing my hair. I slip into my tight royal blue dress and accompany it with my black pumps.

I slide down the railing of the stairs to where Jerome waits in a nice outfit. “Looking handsome my man!” I say kissing his cheek. “And you look…delicious my doll!” He growls in my ear and kisses my neck biting it lightly. “Shall we?” Jerome asks a he opens the door for us to exit.

We make one of J’s henchmen drive us to the club. We walk in and I instantly feel my body moving to the music. “Dance with me J!” I say and attempt to pull him to the floor with me.

He scoffs and pulls his arm away. “I don’t know honey. You know this.” I cross my arms and pout slightly. “Fine.” I say and go by myself.

I sway my hips and make eye contact with J every second. I feel a body press up against me and pull my hips against theirs. Obviously a male. I turn around and smirk knowing this will make J angry. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” He whispers to me; the sent of alcohol clear in his breath.

I grind up against him and smile at J. “Buy me a drink and maybe I’ll tell you.” The man looks me up and down and immediately leads me to the bar getting me a drink.

I look over once again to the booth Jerome is at. He just sits there sipping his whiskey and watches me like a hawk. Even when someone is talking to him. He still keeps his eyes on me.

The man passes me my drink and sits down at the bar. “So you gonna tell me now baby girl?” I giggle and take a swig of my drink loving the burning sensation moving its way down my throat. “Well you see that man over there? He look familiar to you?” I point the mans line of sight to Jerome who is talking to someone.

The mans mouth opens and his eyes go wide. “J-Jerome? The Jerome?” I shrug my shoulders. “He likes to be called Joker by the ones who fear him.” “Why would you be with him?” “He shows me a good time. Really gets me going.”

The man scoffs and grabs my ass pulling me closer. “I bet I could show you a better time.” Suddenly a glass flys between us and smashes on the wall.

The giggle of my sweetheart is heard a foot away making me smile. “Oh do you? You think you can get my little doll going more then I could huh? Think you can make her scream?” Jerome asks getting into the man drunken face. “N-no sir.” He stutters.

Jerome puts his hand behind his ear in a dramatic manner. “What was that? A man who thinks he’s better then me and a fibber? Hmm looks like we got to do something about that…well then.” Jerome immediately shoot the man in the head and laughs.

Jerome puts the gun under my chin lifting my head up. “Now you. What am I going to do to you (y/n)? Punishment has got to be presented, but not here.” Jerome snaps his fingers at his henchmen. “Bring the car around back. Then walk home. We’re gonna be a while.” Jerome says and drags me out the back entrance where the car now waits.

He opens the back door. “Get in baby.” I cross my arms. “And if I don’t?” I ask. Jerome puts his hand round my throat and the gun to my head. “Then you know what will happen. Now listen to me and get in.”

I gulp scared. He’s never threatened me to that extent before. Never has he had me at gun point. I crawl in the back followed by Jerome. “Touch yourself.” He says still pointing the gun at me.

Somehow I felt a little more aroused then I should be. Still scared out of my mind, but still turned on.

I’m never allowed to touch myself. One of Jerome’s rules. I spread my legs for him to see I’m not wearing any panties. “You naughty girl.” He breathes out and runs his own hand over the bulge in his pants.

I slip my hand down to my pussy and rub a single finger up and down my slit spreading the wetness. I proceed to slip a finger inside myself and pump slowly getting a rhythm started.

I add another finger and play with my clit throwing my head back in pleasure. “Oh baby. Look at you.” Jerome laughs and rips the top half of my dress open to revile my breast.

He starts to toy with them as I bring myself closer to release. “Does that feel good doll? Do you like playing with yourself?” I moan and nod my head. “Yes. It feels so good.”

Jerome lowers he head and removes my fingers from my pussy replacing them with his own. He sucks on my clit knowing how sensitive I am there.

I grab his hair and tug at it. “Ah Jerome!” I throw my head back. “Turn around. Hands and knees love.”

I do as he says and I feel the tip of him running up and down my soaked slit. “What do you want baby?” “I want you to fuck me Jerome.” He giggles and slides in roughly.

He doesn’t waste time. He pounds into my as hard as he can bringing me close to the edge. “Who’s are you? Hm? Scream it!” “Yours Jerome!” I moan out.

Jerome pulls my hair back and thrust into me at an angle where I’m ready to cum. “YOURS! IM YOURS!” I scream as we both cum.

Jerome brushes my hair out if my face and kisses my cheek. “That’s right baby.” He says into my ear.

Originally posted by rickdixonandthefandomlifeposts

Originally posted by moan-s

Marinette Cake

Marichat May Day 2: Purring

Ao3 Link || Other Works

Summary: Chat Noir was very hungry.

And Marinette smelled nice.

Really, really nice.


Meant to be a short drabble, became longer and lead to an identity reveal. Oh well, it was fun to write. c: Hope you enjoy!


Chat Noir was just going home after a lunchtime akuma, and he was starving. He could feel his energy draining from him, and if it weren’t for the suit, he’d probably be collapsed somewhere, starving to death. Then he would die and his father would be arrested for parental neglect. Ladybug would never know what happened. His classmates would mourn…

Speaking of classmates.

He stopped on top of the school when he caught a glimpse of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, holding a sack of flour on her shoulders. She and her father seemed to be unloading some sacks from a delivery truck right outside their bakery. He watched as Marinette put down her sack next to a small towering pile and roll her shoulders as she entered the truck to grab another one, passing her father who had one sack on each shoulder.

He whistled as she easily hoisted another one on her shoulders, impressed. He never knew she was that strong. She always looked so small and soft that seeing her easily carry a sack of flour that was half her size and probably twice her weight was quite a nice surprise.

Chat Noir would be a terrible hero if he didn’t go down there to lend a helping paw. Maybe he could ask for a croissant as repayment. Just one. He was just so hungry, and they were nice people so they’d at least give him one, right?

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Stupid (Yoongi/Reader Fluff)

Summary: It’s 2:45 am and Min Yoongi’s at your door. Stupid.

(( Note: Lol, hey guys… Guess who’s not dead. *Me (I think)* Sorry I went on hiatus out of nowhere :/ Can’t say that I’m back officially because like the last time I said that I was gone three months after (hehe). So I’m semi back I guess? I’ve been missing those active Tumblr days so much, I wish I can be on more, idk what will happen in the future but I’ll try my best to post more scenarios and just overall be more active :) HOPEFULLY SMH—Also I know nothing about piano/music writing, I apologize for any mistakes and please please listen to the song it’s really pretty ))


Literally, what the hell.”

You stared at your best friend, completely dumbfounded by the fact that you were even staring at him considering that it was pitch black and cold as shit out. In other words, it was 2:45 in the morning and no other than Min Yoongi was standing there right in front of you, hands stuffed deep into his large coat along with a fluffy scarf wrapped countless times around his head, hot air from his mouth puffing out into the frozen winter air. 

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BONNIE & CLYDE || 1 (M)

Originally posted by osyub

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut + Punk!Junghope + Gang!AU

Word Count: ~8K

Description: Ride along, so worry can’t get us, so nobody can recognize you. Speed put at the maximum. A Rolling Stones song, play on. But no matter what song I play, already in your heart, the crying has already killed it, no song can save you. I’ll hold you, even when the whole world turns its back on you.

PT1. | PT.2

This is not what you imagined months ago while daydreaming of what you would be doing today. Sitting in class all day or leaning against the counter at work, visualizing hundreds of scenarios where you and your knight in shining armor are having the time of your life on the one day in the whole year set aside just for love. He would be wearing a black suit and tie, his hair brushed and looking at you as if you fished out all the stars in the universe and put them in your eyes. And you would be wearing a dress made of silk that took weeks of extra shifts but it would be all worth it when he’d see you, hair made up and a lovesick smile on your lips.

February 14th is supposed to be a night you’d never forget in your entire life, a night you’d look back on while holding your children and looking at your husband, saying wow, where did the time go? It’s not supposed to end up with you looking at racks and racks of cards for every possible occasion at nine in the evening with a frown as deep. You’re probably the only person in the small 24 hour store beside the clerk himself, who frankly looks like he doesn’t want to be here more than you.

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Cheater? (Reggie x Reader)

Request: could you maybe do a reggie and reader imagine where they have been dating for years but he cheats on her and they break up he tries to win her back but she keeps shooting him down but she has a bad fight with her mom and she doesn’t know where else to go to so she goes to reggie’s and he comforts her and they talk and get back together


 You couldn’t get the image out of your head. The thought of Reggie kissing someone that wasn’t you made you sick to your stomach. It was a painful reminder why you didn’t go to party in the first place. Nothing good ever happens when teens have alcohol.  It what ended your relationship with him, you couldn’t trust him anymore.

“Babe I’m sorry I didn’t mean it, I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing”  Reggie begged you and tears were forming in his eyes. He didn’t want all of the years that you guys been together to end over some stupid drunken mistake that he had made.

“Please stop Reggie, it’s too late we’re over” You said as tears were falling down your cheeks, you loved him but you couldn’t have him anymore. You felt like all of your air was getting pulled out of you as you try to breath through the tears.

“We can fix it Y/N, don’t give up on us, not yet” Reggie pleaded he was losing you, something that he never thought was possible and it was his own fault.

“You already did Reggie” You let out while your voice was cracking “You broke us”

You sat down at you lunch table, facing away from the football team so you didn’t have to look at Reggie. Betty looked at you as you sat down on side of her, you never sat there. But it came to her mind when she heard the football team laughing from behind her. Reggie, was why you were sitting there.

“You okay?” Betty asked as you finally settle down in your place. You phoned her the night you guys broke up so she knew what had happened.

“Peachy” You said as you took a bite of your sandwich, listening to Veronica and Kevin conversion.

“So Y/N” Veronica started to say as she turned her head to face you “What’s with Reggie and you?” You looked at her figuring Betty already told her but you guessed not.

“Nothing” Veronica leaned over the table and teased

“Come on now Y/N, you don’t just break up with someone like Reggie for no reason. So what is it? Did you start a new high school affair? You lost your breath at Veronica’s last few words. It was hitting to close to home for you. Pushing your tray forward, you quickly got up grabbing your things. Not wanting to let anyone see your tears fell, you ran away to go hide somewhere in the school.

“I told you not to say anything Veronica” Betty shouted just enough so them at the table could heard it.

“I didn’t think much of it, what happened.”

“Reggie cheated on her V” Betty told her as she rolled her eyes, leaving to go find you in the school. When you ran out you didn’t see Reggie watching you. He knew you were gone to cry about what he assumed to be him. He knew you better than anyone, one little look at you he could tell that you were broken. He was the one that caused it and now he wanted to be the one to fix it.


“Hey can we talk?” You heard a voice said as you put your books away. You looked up and came face to face with the last person you wanted to see, Reggie.

“There’s nothing to talk about” You told him as you shut your locker. You looked down the hallway looking for Betty, so you could leave. You didn’t think you could look at Reggie yet, it hasn’t been that long. Plus you were sacred that if you did, you would fall into his arms since you miss him so much.

“Us. That’s what we need to do, not just ignore each other” Reggie said as he ran his fingers through his hair. He was frustrated with himself mostly, knowing that he wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for himself.

“There isn’t an us anymore Reggie, get over it because I have” You left Reggie standing there as you saw Betty so you could go home. You knew he knew you were lying after all no one knew you better than Reggie did.


“THEY NEED TO BE BETTER” Your mother shouted as you guys and your father stood in the living room.

“Mom their fine, one B isn’t going to hurt” You said. Your parent or more like your mom have been yelling at you over the past hour for the B that you got biology. It wasn’t hard to bring it back up and you knew that but your mother wouldn’t listen.

“DON’T TALK BACK TO ME YOUNG LADY” Your mother said as she made her way closer to you. “You live under my house and as long as you do there will be no talking back. B’s aren’t for this family, if you want to be something in life honey you have to get A’s. Your pretty face can only take you so far in life. Men aren’t going to stick around once it disappears for a women who get’s B’s.”

“Honey I thin-” Your dad try to cut in but your mother kept talking not wanting to hear his opinions. It was normal thing for your family, your dad was just to sacred too stand up to your mother.

“You heard me, you will be nothing in life if you keep acting like this. Leave, go on I can’t bare to look at you anymore. You’re a sorry excuse for a daughter.” When you heard your mother’s words you ran out of the house. Tears were flowing but it was nothing new to you lately that’s all you ever seem to be at. You needed somewhere to stay for the night but most importantly you needed someone to talk to you. You never really told your friends about how strict your mother was, only Reggie knew. At this point you didn’t care what had happened to just wanted to see him

Standing on his front porch you knocked, hoping that he was going to be the one to open it. You didn’t want his parents to see you looking like a mess. They would wonder what happened and would start asking questions.

“Y/N” Reggie said as he opened the door taking in your appearance. Your hair was out a place and you had been crying. He could tell from your bloodshot eyes and your wet cheeks. Not saying anything he opened his arms letting you fall into him. You cried into his chest as he carried you up to his room. He knew it was something with your mom, you wouldn’t just come to fix what he broke. He held you for what felt like hours, comforting you making sure you were alright. Not asking questions since he knew you would talk when ready. It take didn’t much longer for your tears to stop falling. You finally lifted your head up from Reggie chest and looks into his brown eyes.

“It’s my mom” Reggie nodded he knew it was but he let you keep talking “I was having trouble with biology and ended up getting a B. Mom wasn’t happy when she saw the mark and started to yell at me. Saying things like I’m just a pretty face and will never make it in life.” You rolled you eyes at your mom stupidly. “It’s one mark that she can’t see pass, she told me to leave so I did so we could both cool off.” Knowing that was the best option, you and your mother were too much alike to be together when mad.

“Not that I mine having you here or anything but why me? I thought you hated me” Reggie let out nervously, not knowing if he wanted your true answer. You smiled

“I could never hate you Reggie, I love you but it’s just so hard” You said leaning on his side. “Love is hard and I didn’t really know how to react. You kiss her and I..I know you didn’t mean it I was there, you were so drunk. I think when it happened I was lost, I felt so many emotions. I hated you for a moment but I couldn’t stay mad when I saw the regret and guilt in you eyes even as drunk as you were. I love you Reggie that’s not going to change, I just needed time to think and get through it all”

“I love you too, I’m sorry again for the pain I caused. It really broke my heart knowing I was the one who did that.”

“I know so ummm would you try again with me?” Reggie looked at you shocked not expecting that from you.

“Yeah I would love too I promise nothing is going to happen again”

“The only thing is we’re going to start from beginning I got to gain your trust back.”

“Yes anything babe” Reggie had a grin across his face, he’s never felt happier to have a second chance before in his life. You smiled once again at him before you leaned back onto his bed.

“Lay with me for awhile?”

“Of course love” So there you two stayed cuddle into each other’s arms. Both of you guys were happy to be back with one another. You both drifted off from the comfortable silence in the room. It was the first full night sleep you guys had since the break up. You guys were finally back where you belonged. And you couldn’t wait to stay there forever.

Knuckles : Boxer!Ashton One Shot

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Talk about a third date. 

If it were any other boy you’d probably be out at a restaurant or something on a night like this, flirting nervously across the dinner table while you try to decipher if he likes you enough to take your relationship to the next level. You’ve gone through the dating routine once or twice before, and had a pretty good idea of what to expect; if someone had told you a month ago you’d be standing right outside of a boxing ring while your date and another shirtless man beat each other to a pulp, you would’ve thought they were crazy. 

The crowd around you gasps and your own stomach lurches, empathetically feeling the punch that Ashton just took to the cheek. Blood is already dripping down his face, the source of it located just over his left eyebrow. He looks like a mess yet he’s still on his feet somehow, determined to keep retaliating, apparently even if it kills him. 

“Don’t worry,” Calum says next to you after noticing your concerned expression, “I’ve seen him win in worse conditions." 

You want to smile, appreciative of his effort to ease your mind, but every couple of seconds Ashton keeps getting hit, hard. It doesn’t matter to you whether he wins or loses, you just hope that your fourth date won’t have to take place beside a hospital bed. 

"Is it almost over?” you ask Calum, too new to this sport to know the ins and outs of the rule book. 

“One more round after th–Oh!

You missed what happened, but look back at the ring to find the opponent, a man named Donovan Diaz, struggling to stand up. Given the cheers from the audience, it sounds like most of the people here have their money on Ashton, and he just brought them one step closer to profiting. 

The round concludes and the fighters return to their separate corners, two teams quickly making their way into the ring to begin fixing up their boys. You wish you were allowed up there, yearning just to talk to Ashton, to treat him gently after witnessing the beating he’s taken for the last half an hour. Sitting on the short stool between rounds is the closest he’s been to you all night, each break like a minute-long tease that only makes you want to be near him more. You haven’t even said hi to him yet, not given the chance to do so before the match started. 

He knows you’re here, though. He spotted you next to his friend Calum after walking away from the first round, and lost focus for a brief second to give you a smile and a flirty wink. Some crowd members noticed, chiming in with playful remarks and whistles, causing your cheeks to burn bashfully. Ashton seemed so confident and well put together then, but that spark isn’t as evident now that he can barely keep his swollen eyes open while his crew tidies up his blood-splattered face. 

Keep reading

Let me speak to your manager

My first job was at a trampoline park when I was 18. Which is its own monster in the customer service industry. I worked my way to the top within 4 months and became a manager. I was the youngest manager at the company and never looked like one to being with. Which was a blessing and a curse depending on the situation. Anyways, the CEO of the company made it clear in our weekly meetings to give 0 refunds and to never hand out anything for free. Since we had issues with previous managers handing out free items to calm customers down. Now you can imagine the anger when we tell a customer, no. Especially over a refund.

One night while we were beginning to close an employee tossed out a customer’s melted icee to put up chairs on the tables. An older man comes down from the trampoline area, and begins to yell at my employee about the icee being thrown away. I immediately walk up to my employee and tell her to continue cleaning while I talk to the gentleman about his $2.50 melted icee.

He turns red in the face yelling that we have no regard for his children and his well spent money. His children then walk behind him and get in on the belittlement, yelling with him about a refund for the $2.50. He “demanded” I give him 3 free icees to compensate for the one which was thrown out. After continuing to tell him no, he screams, “I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE MANAGER”.

A smile cracks on my face to hear those magic words. I calmly reply, “sir, I am the manager”. Both him and his children are jaw dropped, he becomes belligerent, yelling “OH YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME”. I tell him I can no longer help him and walk away to assist with closing.

Nothing more gratifying than hearing, “let me speak to your manager” to only reply with, “I am the manager”.

stand up • monty de la cruz

a/n: i think that this is one of my fav requests bc i wrote the character based off of me a lil bit hehe. also, thanks for 700! 💓

warnings: swearing, smut, you already know what it is, my old sinner ways

you walk into school to be greeted by a chorus of “oh’s.” this wasn’t an unusual occurrence at liberty high, but it was an annoying one because every time it happened, you knew that there was some undeserving victim at the root of it all.

you sigh deeply and walk towards your locker, but you can’t quite make it all the way there because the hall is blocked by the formed circle. in the center, you see montgomery de la cruz taunting some freshman you’ve never seen before. the boy looks absolutely terrified, while monty chuckles. it isn’t long before monty has him by his collar and pushed up against the wall. monty is about to throw a punch, and you speak up, pushing yourself toward the center of the circle.

“monty can you stop being such a dick for once in your life?” you say and the boy turns his attention towards you. once he sees that it’s you, his expression softens a bit and then quickly turns into a smirk. “this is men’s business y/n, it’s best if you just butt out.” he says to you arrogantly. the crowd laughs. “you shouldn’t be partaking in it then,” you say, crossing your arms across your chest. “put him down.” the chorus of “ooo’s” rises again and you see monty’s nostrils flare.

“and if i don’t?” he questions. “then i’ll shove my foot so far up your ass, you’ll cough up
my size 5 vans.” you snap at him. monty looks stunned and shakes his head, putting the boy down. the crowd subsides and you walk to your locker. monty’s gaze lingers on you while you put in your combination. he walks over to where you’re standing and props himself against the locker beside you.

“size 5? tiny, that’s cute.” he says while you dig around your locker. you groan and close the door, still annoyed with him. “montgomery, go be a piece of shit somewhere else, maybe go to class for once? i don’t have the time right now.” you say trying to walk away from him. he stands in front of you, placing each hand on either side of your head. he’s dangerously close to your face, so close that you can smell the mint on his breath and feel it on your cheeks. you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t find him attractive. “leave me the hell alone de la cruz. don’t you have somewhere to be?” you spat at him, trying to seem confident. on the inside, you felt like you were melting.

“why do you hate me, y/n?” monty asks you while searching your eyes with his. you snap into reality and remember why you’re angry with him in the first place. looking him dead in the eyes, you begin speaking. “because, you’re an ass monty. you’re such a bully and i’m sick of your shi-” monty let’s his impulses take over and cuts you off by smashing his lips onto yours. he pulls away and stares at you intently. “how do you manage to piss me off so much, but turn me on at the same time, y/l/n?” monty says while gripping your wrist.

you giggle at his words until he presses himself flush against you. you can feel your breath hitch in your throat. “you think this is funny?”
he growls while grinding himself against you. you let out a shaky breath and then you smash your lips onto his. you didn’t know what was taking over you, but you weren’t complaining. monty yanks your hand and leads you into the janitor’s closet, slamming it shut and locking it.

his lips immediately attach to your neck and you shudder from his touch. “you’re stupid montgomery.” you moan breathlessly. “mmmhmmm.” he hums against your neck in response. “so stupid.” you moan as he lifts your shirt above your head. monty kisses you again, more forcefully this time. you can feel his hard on dig into your leg, so you glide your hand down to start palming him. he moans into your mouth and then grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head while he kisses you roughly all over.

monty sits down, pulling you on top of him. he grabs your hips and you start grinding against his erection, moaning from the friction. “fucking shit y/n, you’re so sexy.” monty groans while grabbing your ass to squeeze it. you smirk and stand up, and his eyes latch onto you. you decide to give him a show and take off your pants and panties painfully slow, without breaking eye contact with him. his eyes rake your body up and down and he takes his pants off too.

he walks towards you swiftly and has you pushed to the wall again in a rough, fiery kiss. you tug at the waistband of his boxers, and he pulls away. “jump.” monty breathed into your ear, and you felt chills go down your spine. you do as he says, wrapping your legs around his waist in the process. he uses one hand to pull down his underwear, positions himself at your entrance, and pounds into you hard and fast. the sudden contact made you cry out in pain as you bounced on him. his firm grip around your waist was sure to leave hard to explain bruises, but in the moment, all you can think about is the pleasure that you feel. your eyes roll back as you grip monty’s shoulders.

“o- oh my… fuck.” is all that monty can get out. you try to control your moans but with every thrust, all you can do is gasp out. you were never one to be speechless, but words couldn’t describe how you were feeling.

monty backs up and sits against the shelf so that you can ride him. your hips rolled effortlessly while you placed your hands on his chest. you felt your legs getting weaker by the second, knowing that you were nearing the edge. “fu- oh my god mont, i’m close.” you whimper. monty sits up so that he can kiss you, and you start to bounce on him faster. he moans into your mouth again and then pulls away to place wet kisses on your jawline, lacing his hand into your hair. he kisses behind your ear and then begins whispering to you.

“let it out baby girl.” monty says in your ear, causing you to shiver. “look at you, riding my cock. god you look so hot right now. i wish you could see it.” he continues. his words motivate you to bounce even quicker, and he hisses. your nails dig into monty’s back. your walls clench, and you come undone around him. before you have a chance to ride out your high, monty flips you onto your back. he rolls his hips into you and brings his thumb down to rub your clit. pleasure jolts through your body as monty goes to work.

your whimpers echo off the walls of the janitor’s closet while monty grunts. “shit y/n, i’m not going to last.” he breathes out. monty rubs your clit even faster and your eyes roll back. your vision blurs as you cry out his name, and your senses go into overdrive. monty puts his head in the crook of your neck, and after a few more thrusts, he comes, triggering your second orgasm. you both breathe heavily while trying to recover from the event that just took place.

“so,” monty starts, “wanna ditch? i mean we’re already hella late, and i have the house to myself. what do you say?” he questions you with a smirk.

I Should Have Kissed You

Characters: MOC!Dean x Reader, mention of Sam

Word Count: 1749

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), oral (male receiving), language, barely a hint of angst

A/N:  I was re-watching season 10 and it got me thinking about helping Dean get his mind off of the Mark.

You walk by Dean’s door for the third time in fifteen minutes.  His room is littered with books as he sits against the side of his bed with his long legs crossed out in front of him and his nose buried deep in a book.  You had been living with Sam and Dean long enough to know that something was up.  Ever since the last lead on the Mark went nowhere Dean had been obsessed with reading everything he could find about it.  You were worried, which was why you were walking past his room yet again.  You take a breath and knock on the open door.  Dean barely looks up from his book.

“Hey, Dean,” you say standing over him.

“Hey Y/N,” Dean mumbles.

Keep reading

PANIC! AT THE DISCO SENTENCE STARTERS.

random mix of panic! at the disco lyrics.

’ No, I can’t help but to hear an exchanging of words. ’
’ What a beautiful wedding! ’
’ Haven’t you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?! ’
’ And, yes, but what a shame, what a shame the poor groom’s bride is a whore. ’
’ I mean technically our marriage is saved. ’
’ So, pour the champagne, pour the champagne! ’
’ And if you don’t know, now you know. ’
’ I see what’s mine and take it. ’
’ I’m taking back the crown. ’
’ I’m all dressed up and naked. ’
’ Snatch your chain and mace your eyes. ’
’ Heroes always get remembered. ’
’ But you know legends never die. ’
’ If it feels good, tastes good. ’
’ I’m taking back, back, taking back, back. ’
’ Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? ’
’ Anyway the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me. ’
’ I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. ’
’ But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away. ’
’ If I’m not back again this time tomorrow. ’
’ Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth. ’
’ Goodbye everybody, I’ve got to go. ’
’ I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all. ’
’ Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango? ’
’ Spare him his life from this monstrosity. ’
’ Easy come, easy go, will you let me go? ’
’ Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me. ’
’ Oh, baby, you can’t do this to me, baby. ’
’ So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye? ’
’ So you think you can love me and leave me to die? ’
’ Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here. ’
’ Nothing really matters. ’
’ Oh, this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart. ’
’ Their gnashing teeth and criminal tongues conspire against the odds. ’
’ If you love me let me go. ’
’ Don’t try to sleep through the end of the world. ’
’ ‘Cause these words are knives and often leave scars. ’
’ And truth be told, I never was yours. ’
’ ‘Cause I won’t give up without a fight. ’
’ Tonight we are victorious. ’
’ It hurts until it stops, we will love until it’s not. ’
’ My touch is black and poisonous. ’
’ I’m like a scarf trick, it’s all up the sleeve. ’
’ I know you need it, do you feel it. ’
’ Shooting fireworks like it’s the Fourth of July. ’

anonymous asked:

could you do where betty's mom gets physical with her and shes got like marks or bruises and jughead gets concerned or where jughead sees it happen?(or both lol) thanks!!

Sure! It’s an angsty one guys!
***
It was the last week of school, summer was right around the corner and it was hotter than it had ever been.
The entire football team was walking to class shirtless and girls skirts seemed to get shorter and shorter, even Jughead had settled with a plain black tank top, skipping his usual flannel.
When he had walked into school without his usual beanie, Kevin had nearly fainted

“It’s too hot.” Jughead had said simply shrugging off his friends

Veronica and Cheryl wore shorts that could have been classified as underwear and strappy tank tops.

But Betty? Something wasn’t completely right with Betty’s wardrobe choice. Of course everyone know Betty was modest, so it was no surprise when she walked in with a pretty, blue floral print skirt that hung a little past mid thigh, the weird thing was the top of outfit. She had on a short sleeved white t shirt covered with a light blue cardigan, her chest and arms completely covered. She also had on a bit more makeup than she usually wore. She looked beautiful that was indisputable, but she looked hot. And not in the good way.

“B? Aren’t you dying ?! Your gonna get sunstroke in that top?” Veronica reached over and tugged on her cardigan.

She just laughed nervously “you know me Ronnie, I run cold.” She shook off her concerned friends hand and turned to Cheryl, changing the topic.

Jughead watched her all through lunch, she wasn’t cold. The way she occasionally would pull the sleeves of her sweater up before quickly pulling the down, or when she would lift the neck line of her top away from her body giving herself some air. And then of course there was that damn bead of sweat that was a constant on her neck. While it was probably the sexiest thing Jughead had ever seen, he knew it was a sure sign she was heating up under those layers.

He was relieved when the warning bell rang, he could finally get her alone and get to the bottom of all this nonsense.

“Hey bets? I need your help with an essay I’m working on, we both have free period, do you wanna head to the blue and gold?”

Betty just smiled softly, giggling “juggie we always go to the blue and gold during free period, you don’t have to ask.”
He smiled at her raising his shoulders and walking side by side.

As soon as they entered the office, Betty took her place at her desk. The air conditioner in the school had broken down and it was worse in here than it had been outside. Jughead figured he would give it a few minutes before he jumped right into it but when he saw the way Betty swiped her forehead of sweat he couldn’t hold back.

“Ya know, it’s just us in here Betty, you don’t have to wear your cardigan, you’re gonna catch heat stroke in that thing.”

Her head snapped up nervously, and she laughed shakily
“Oh no I’m fine! I’m not hot.”

He got up from his desk and stood directly across from her, placing the back of his hand to her sweaty forehead.
“Oh really? Cuz feels like you’re burning up to me.” He raised a brow and stared her in her bright green eyes.

She dropped his gaze and looked back to the papers in front of her “just drop it juggie.” She whispered.

Enough was enough, snatching the papers from in front of her, he moved them out of her reach.
Her eyes finally caught his again. This time irritation seeping through

“Hey! Give those back, I need to work on them.”

He shook his head “and I need to know why you’re wearing a cardigan in ninety degree weather.” He shot back
“It’s not a big deal!”
“Clearly it is, since you’re lying to me.”
“I’m not lying!”
“Well you’re not telling the truth, I’d consider that lying!”

Finally pulling away in anger she slipped the blue cardigan off, revealing bruised arms, harsh finger shaped circles marring her soft tan skin.
“There! Are you happy?! I didn’t want everyone seeing! Everyone asking questions! I know how uncomfortable this would make people so I wore the stupid cardigan. Can I put it back on now?”
She panted out, her eyes shining with unshed tears and her hands shaking reaching to grab the sweater.

He stopped her quickly, gently grabbing her wrist and running his fingers lightly over the bruises. “Who?” He whispered so quietly Betty hardly heard him.
“It doesn’t matter.” She whispered, looking away and trying to tug her arm free.
His eyes shot up and grabbed her face, finally noticing the light purple outline under the makeup she had on.
“You know that’s not true. You know it matters to me, you have to tell me Betty. Please tell me.” He was pleading with her. His eyes were angry. She had never seen Jughead jones angry and it was definitely more than a little intense.
“It’s just. It’s my mom.” Jugheads back straightened , he didn’t care that it was a woman, didn’t care that it was her mother. He was gonna kill her. He was gonna kill her and kill Betty’s father for letting this happen.
“She’s just stressed!” Betty started “with it being sophomore year and all I have to start looking at colleges and I mentioned that I didn’t want to go to Harvard or Yale, I like riverdale community, I could be a teacher right here in riverdale. She didn’t like that. She got angry, she gets angry a lot now.” She whispered
Jughead stared at her “this isn’t going to happen again Betty. I’m not going to let her touch you again. Where’s your dad?” He said softly stroking her cheek.

She closed her eyes leaning into his touch.
“He’s away on a journalism conference, he comes home tommorow.”

Jughead nodded “you’ll stay with me tonight, dads not home, don’t know where he is. You’ll stay with me and then tomorrow we’ll go talk to your parents. I can’t promise I’m going to be nice. In fact I promise I won’t be. She hurt you Betty. I can’t just let that slide. I hate this, I hate seeing these on your skin.” He ran the back of his hand over the bruise on her cheek. “It’s not gonna happen again.” He repeated with finality. Assuring himself and her at the same time.

“Okay.” Betty whispered. Feeling safe for the first time in ages.

“I wanna hold you right now and not let go for the rest of the day.” He said softly, clutching her hand “but it’s too hot and we might pass out.” He added making her giggle. Leave it to Jughead to lighten the tense atmosphere.
He smiled at the sound of her familiar giggle
“You’re safe with me Betty, I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.”

She smiled back at him, her first real one in ages

“I know.”

Nobody Needs to Know || Pt. 2

Pt. 1 || Pt. 3 || Pt. 4

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Request (x2): OH MY GOSH YOU HAVE TO MAKE ANOTHER PART TO NOBODY NEEDS TO KNOW!! IT WAS AMAZING :-)

Prompts: #93 “But, I said I love you.”

Warnings: A singular swear, some sad times, a very stupid Juggie

A/N: Let me know how you feel! If you’re interested in a part three, message me! Requests are also open for other imagines!


“You have feelings for me?”

Shit.

You go slack-jawed, unable to understand exactly what had transpired in the short time it took you to go to the restroom. Jug still hasn’t blinked or made any sort of indication that he’s alive, frozen just as you are. The heat seeps from your hands, making them clammy which ,you take a ridiculous moment to think, is probably the grossest word in existence. You feel the missing heat from your fingers move up to your neck, making its way up your face until the heat makes you feel light-headed. 

Still, no one has said anything. You throw a quick glance to the friends across from you, seeing equally dumbfounded expressions. All three meet your gaze, with Betty shaking her head apologetically. Your face falls and you look back to the boy that still has not moved.

“I, uh, I just,” you pause, taking a deep breath in and blowing it back out again. 

He started to look angry. His fists ball, veins becoming more defined as his skin pulls taut. “Well?” He looks away from you, finally, moving his gaze to the friends across from you two.

Archie tugs on Betty’s sleeve, pulling her and Veronica out of the booth. “I, uh, think we should go.” He looks meaningfully at B and V, giving you a supportive smile as he drags them off.

Once the bell rings out, signalling their departure, Jughead’s hands relax and he sinks against the sticky vinyl of the booth. 

Well, if there was a time to try and explain, it must be now.

“Okay, Jug. Here it is. Here’s all of it.” You turn to fully face him in the booth, crossing one leg under the other and setting your fidgeting hands in between them. You try to look him in the eye, but seeing his face once again devoid of expression is too much. Instead, you settle on watching your hands betray your nerves. “I have feelings for you. Not… not like feelings we have for friends, for Archie or Betty or V. As in, sometimes I want to kiss you but also sometimes being too close drives me crazy feelings.” You look up again, only to find no reaction. Back to your hands. “I’ve know for- well, I was going to say forever, which is just blatantly incorrect. I’ve felt like this for almost our entire friendship, but I didn’t figure it out for a couple years after. I didn’t intend to develop feelings, and I really don’t want to lose you.” You look up once more, and finally there is something behind his eyes. Confusion, mostly, but it’s something. Your gazes stay on each other as you continue. “I love you, Jughead Jones. As more than the best friends I know we are.” The side of you mouth quirks up, but quickly drops again as your brow crinkles. “But, if you want to stay friends, I understand. Just, please Jug. Please,” you untangle your hands to put one on his bicep,” don’t let this ruin anything. Ruin us.”

Silence. Your hand slips away, and while you had not noticed yourself leaning forward during the speech you are now very aware of the miniscule distance between you two. Collapsing a bit, putting some distance in between, you see Jughead turn to you with determination and apology written in every line of his face.

“I’m just-” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t feel the same way.” His face crumples, but you don’t let him see yours do the same. 

Instead, you take another deep breath and give another smile. “That’s okay! We can just go back to how we were. If you want, we can call everyone back and just have a normal night?” As much as you want to hide your emotions, you hope he hears the plea hidden in the question. 

He looks away from you now, taking your earlier trick of staring at his hands. “I really don’t think that’s the best idea.”

Your heart feels a little twinge, but quickly you dispel it. “Y’know, I am a little tired. It’s pretty late, I’ll just walk home.” You stand from the booth, slinging your bag across your shoulder. “But we’re still on for tomorrow, right? All of us meeting at Twilight?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think we can be around each other for a while, Y/N.”

You logically knew your heart couldn’t drop into your stomach, but logic never applied to your feelings for Jughead Jones.

“But, I said I loved you. And I meant it, in both the feelings way but also just the best friend way. That’s gotta count for something, Jug. You can’t push me away just because we’re a little uncomfortable right now.” You begin to worry. “If we don’t try to get past it now, we probably never will! It’ll just get worse over time and then our entire friend group will dissipate and they’ll drop me because I’m the youngest and everyone knows the youngest is cast out in major friend debates and-”

“Y/N!” Jughead pleads, “Please stop. I just need time. We’re okay, I promise, but I think we both just need a little time. Just, just go home.”

He doesn’t look at you, hands once again clenching. Instead of making more of a fool of yourself, you turn on your heel and walk out of the door to Pop’s.

It’s chilly, but you expected as much. What you did not expect was the trio that had left earlier, standing there expectantly. 

“What are you-”

“Did you honestly believe we wouldn’t watch through the window, Y/N/N?” Veronica gives you a sad smile, and Archie opens up his arms and walks towards you with a matching expression. 

Warmth envelopes you, and before long you feel sobs wrack your body. Archie just holds you, and you swear you hear a sniffle or two from him as the two girls join in your comfort session.

You aren’t sure how long you stand out there, taking strength from the friends that stayed in the cold to prepare for any outcome. What you are sure of is that Jughead watched the entire exchange, seeing him turn away through the window just as the group dispersed and started the trek to Archie’s house.

Cooking Classes

Summary:  One day your Friend Steve shows up in your house asking you to teach him to cook.

Words: 3418 (Holly Cow.)

Paring: Steve x Reader

Warnings: There is a lot of music references in this, fuffly lots and lots of fuffly. A little angst and Smut ( Not safe sex and oral.)

A/n : Thanks to @drinkfantasy for being my beta Ily ( you rock)

credits to the gif owners

Originally posted by evanslovely

You wake with loud knocks on your door, you look at the clock and it says it’s 4 pm. Who dares to wake you up in the middle of your nap? You get up from your couch cursing the soul that is on the other side of the door.

When you open the door all your anger disappears, on the other side you see Steve and you hate how good looking he looks at the moment. He is standing there in a dark blue sweater and some jeans looking amazing.

You realize that you are staring “Steve, what do I own you the pleasure?” He smiles at you entering you house “Well, I miss you.” He hugs you as he speaks “I am pretty sure you do, but what are you doing here?”

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