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its-me-im-coraline · 7 years

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Jughead Jones | Rebels

Count of words: 1127

Warnings: smut, mention of bullying, body worshipping by Jug dear, slightly insecure reader, horrible attempt in puns (lol)

A/N: I hope you like it, this was the best I could do with my lack of inspiration.. Also it is set after Jug became a serpent...

ps it takes a while till you get to the smut but you know, this needed to have a story line lol

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anonymous asked: It's fine if you don't want to (I saw the smut and thought it was good) maybe plus size reader jughead smut. Very attentive jughead. Fluffy smut? Its fine if not, love your work!!

Since a very young age you seemed to have trouble to fit in. It was your curiosity, really, that individualized from every five year old around you. But, it was also your body. You always considered your body different, unique and beautiful, but all those skinny girls around never failed to change your mind. They would constantly persuade you that you were not beautiful because of the extra pounds you had. But, believe it or not, you were always so beautiful.

Now, appearence aside, you were such an amazing person since forever and Jughead purely adored it. He would always see you walk by and he would melt, despite how much he would deny it. He would swoon as soon as you hugged, or even talked to him, even if he was indeed one of your greatest friends.

As the years went by, Jughead, began to appreciate you even more, but now your body was on the picture as well. He never quite understood why people thought your body was considered ‘ugly’. I mean, your hugs made him feel like he was in heaven surrounded by clouds, everytime you let him rest his head on your lap and fall asleep while you comforted him, was enough to drive him crazy. Sometimes he found it ironic how people would judge your body the one moment and then they would try to built parts of their bodies to look like yours. It was stupid.

Like I said before, the two of you were friends since, basically, diapers, but after the whole situation with him moving to the South Side you drifted apart. It hurt you deeply, if you were being honest, so one night you desided to go find him. Slowly you climped down your window, making sure your parents wouldn’t hear you, and the proceeded on walking the long road that was now ahead of you.

The cold was piercing and the thin fabric of your jeans and band tee didn’t do much to keep you warm. “So, what is a beauty like you doing by the South Side, at... 2 am?!” A male voice exclaimed behind you, a playful tone on his voice. You couldn’t help the smile spreading at your face as you quickly turned around and run to hug the ‘stranger’. “Oh, nothing. Just doing my usual ‘rebel’ routine, when I do crazy shit while trying to see my partner in crime,” you joked and Jughead poked your side. “So, I’m your partner in crime, huh?” He laughed taking your hand in his and walking towards the trailer with you. “Well, duh. We are the rebels of the ‘good’ side of Riverdale, Jug. I mean, damn, look at you looking all Damon Salvatore like, in a younger and sexier version. And then me. The Monica Belloucci of our generation. Only, a few pounds bigger-” “And a shit ton of sexier,” Jughead finished for you. Really, it was not something unusual for you to talk to each other like that. It was a friendly thing; or so you thought.

After talking for a little while, enjoying the cold night, the frezzy air penetrating though Jughead’s jacket, you finally made it to the trailer. Like the gentleman he is, Jug, opened the door for you and allowed you to enter the warm place he now called home. The whole way there he couldn’t help but admire every single curve of your body, even the ones you hated. He loved it, he truly did, and he couldn’t help himself anymore.

After closing the door behind him, he pulled you by the waist, pinned you on it, holding your hands above your head. “It’s ok if you don’t want to but, why don’t we rebel tonight?” He said in a seductive tone. You giggled slightly, though, finding his attempt to make a pun hillarious. “What’s so funny, Y/N? You’re killing the mood!” He exclaimed, chuckling a bit. You silently mumbled a quick sorry and he repeated his question. “So...” “So what are you waiting for mr Serpent. Go ahead, make the first move.” He only smirked at you and obliged to your reqest, roughly attacking your lips. It was a passionate kiss, something both of you wanted for a long time, but none of you ever admitted. Jughead slowly moved from your lips to your neck, easily findinf your sweet spot. Soft moans escaped you lips as his hands caressed your body, lips attacking your neck. It was only at the second he was about to remove your shirt that you became insecure, preventing him from doing so. “Are you ok?” He asked worried. “Is it something I did?” “N-no. It’s just that... I just feel that you will regret this the moment you see my body,” you replied truthfully. “You’re kidding, right? Come on, baby girl, you can’t really believe that. I love your body, and you. And I want to show that to you.” he said and you just looked away. “Let me make you happy, beautiful. Let me make you mine, so everyone, including you will know whose you are, yeah?” He proposed and after a second of hesitation you agreed. Once again he smiled and kept on attacking your neck. “I. Will. Mark. You. For. Every. Part. Of. Your. Beautiful. Body. I. Love.” He stated through loving kisses on your lips. And the ‘ride’ begun.

He started from your neck, carefully sucking and bitting the soft skin, blowing on the painless bruise he left behind. “I love the moans I can get from you while kissing you here,” he commented and moved on to the next part of your body, leaving a trail of light mark on his way there. Your shirt, already found it’s way to the floor as his lips attacked your, now visible, collarbone. He proceeded on doing what he previously did to your neck, and when satisfied with his creation he moved on to your breasts, skillfuly removing your bra. Then it was you stomach, your sides, your love hundles, your thighs, your hips. After seeing what he did to you, he thought it was the perfect time to give you the pleasure you deserved. His delicate fingers found their way to your underware, the only clothing item left on you body now, after all the rest had left without you even realising. His fingers hooked to band of them and, in a painfully slow pace, he removed the, now, soaked undergarment. His only task was to give youpleasure tonight, and he did just that when his fingers found their way inside of you, him, pumping them in and out. It wasn’t long before you were close to your climax, that Jughead took the pleasure away. “You only going to cum with me, not with my fingers,” he exclaimed after seeing your reaction at the loss of contact. Sure, fast enough, his clothes had found yours on the floor, and carefully he placed himself inside of you. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, allowing him access to your core. He never stopped throwing random sweetwonds here and there as he was making love to you. It wasn’t too long after that, that the both of you reached your highs, and then you found yourselves on the couch cuddling each other. “Now, didn’t we have fun being rebels,” he joked kissing you.

#jughead jones #jughead x reader #jughead jones imagine #jughead jones smut #riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale smut #riverdale imagine #Smut #cole sprouse #cole sprouse imagines #cole sprouse imagine #cole x reader #cole sprouse smut #oldwriting

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cherrystreet · 7 years

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Another bombarding! BUTTTT!! (Just popped in my head after my last msg) Harry's POV during and after the fight and then his convo with Cam when he sends him home! (Sorry I'm just in love with TWG and would die for more, whatever it is!) 💜💛💚💙

ALRIGHT STEPH HERE WE GO. THE FIRST PART OF THIS ASK, 364 DAYS LATER. I LOVE YOU.

Harry looks down at the floor, back up at Louis, the insecurities coming out before he can stop them. “I don’t always know how you feel about me.”

The looks Louis shoots back is downright menacing. “You must be kidding.”

“No,” he says softly, “I’m really not.”

“I have been nothing but honest with you from day one,” he sneers. “Do you expect me to trip over myself for you, like everyone else does?”

“No,” Harry replies honestly, “never. That’s what I like about you. That you never act a certain way around me.”

“Then what are you trying to say?!”

Harry puts his head into his hands, frustrated. His head is starting to pound. “Don’t think that I’m comparing you to anyone when I say this--”

“You’re already off to a bad start, I can tell you now.”

“--but I know exactly how Cameron and Bryce feel about me. They can verbalize it. I never have any doubt with them. I don’t have to guess. With you…”

If Louis wasn’t mad before, he sure as hell is now, and Harry doesn’t know how to get out of this. “I don’t give a fuck about Cam and Bryce. One single bit. As far as I’m concerned, they don’t fucking exist. This is about us. And you’re going to sit there and tell me you’d rather be with one of them because they’re willing to up and move to your perfect fucking home without an argument or care in the world.”

“I didn’t say any of that! Christ, Louis.” He stands, now, staring at Louis directly in the eye, needs to be level with him. “Being in this position is so fucking hard, okay? You think you have to second guess everything? Try being me. All I do is worry and stress over every little thing.”

“Oh, poor Harry, everyone wants him and he can’t fucking decide what he wants.”

Fuck, he’s going to start screaming. Louis can hear him but he isn’t listening. “It’s not like that! Fuck! I know I told you I enjoy the chase, but Louis. Give me something to work with.”

“I am! I’m giving you everything, but you just don’t want to fucking listen to me!”

The irony. “No, you’re not listening to me. I have to choose, okay? I have to choose between three people who care about me, whom I care about, too, and I thought I knew what the end game was, but now I’m not sure, because the one I wanted can’t tell me exactly what he’s thinking about our relationship or even discuss moving without having a fucking panic attack. I have to choose and it’s tearing me apart and I can’t fucking think straight. I have to pick. I have to.”

Louis covers his ears with his hands and Harry’s entire body is pulsing with adrenaline, anger, the need to tell Louis exactly what he’s thinking if he could just have a moment to do so. But.

“Just because I can’t say the words you want to hear specifically doesn’t mean I’m not in this, so how dare you tell me that I’m not worth it,” Louis shouts, his voice hoarse, “because I tell you how I feel every damn day. It’s written all over my face, the way I touch you, the way we talk, I fucking know it. Stop saying you have to choose, stop saying you have to pick. I can’t. I can’t fucking.”

Harry desperately wants to pull Louis into him, but his limbs feel frozen. “Louis…” he manages.

“No, get out. Just. Out. Please,” Louis pleas, and he seems so small.

“No, I’m staying here, we’re fixing this.”

He looks around, everywhere but Harry’s face. “I’ll leave, then.”

“This is your room.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do, though.” Don’t leave me. Us.

“Awesome. Don’t follow me. And don’t be here when I come back.”

“Louis.”

It’s wrong, it all feels wrong, and Harry doesn’t know how to backtrack, to get Louis to stop shaking or yelling or looking at him like that. He doesn’t know why or how it spiraled so quickly but now Louis’ out the Goddamn door, part of the crew closely following behind him, and Harry feels sick to his stomach. He looks at the mess of M&M’s strewn across the coffee table, the rumpled up sheets on Louis’ bed, the photo of his mom on his night stand, and Jesus Christ, he doesn’t care where the hell he ends up, just as long as he gets to have all of this with Louis.

He looks up helplessly at Zach, who’s already lowering his camera cautiously. The air feels oppressive, suddenly, and he needs to get up, get out, get his boy.

“Zach, I’m gonna…” Harry stands up and points to the door. “I have to make sure he’s okay.”

Zach makes a face. “I mean, you can if you want to, but are you sure you should?”

“Yes,” he replies with certainty. “He needs to know I’ll go anywhere with him.”

“Specifically away from this villa that he clearly asked you to stay in?”

Harry frowns, doing his best to hold back tears. He feels pathetic. “I didn’t get the chance to talk. I wanted to go over the negatives with him, and then the positives. And then he…” He trails off, doesn’t need to recap it. “I need to fix it.”

“You will,” Zach says. “Can I just…”

“Can I what?”

He hands Harry his headphones, turns the camera. “Sometimes it’s easier to see where it all went wrong from an outsider’s perspective.”

“Zach, I don’t want to watch this.”

He presses ‘play,’ anyway, and Harry’s stuck, watching it all back in front of him, helpless. It hurts worse this way, seeing how quickly Louis’ guard went up, how Harry didn’t catch it in the beginning and kept pushing. He rewinds it, watches it from the start, then does it again. He hopes for clarity. Instead, it makes him feel like shit, moreso each time.

The worst part, he thinks, is that he didn’t initially catch the way Louis’ body language changed so quickly, how his eyes turned glassy, how his entire demeanor changed to a fight stance. Harry drags his hands across his face, thinking that maybe, he doesn’t actually know Louis the way he thought he did, and what the fuck is he supposed to do now.

Harry spends the rest of the evening alone in his villa. He writes out exactly what he wants to say to Louis, beginning with an apology for being so pushy, so demanding, followed by an explanation of how he intended for that conversation to go.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m afraid of leaving California,” he says to himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror, “and that I have so many uncertainties and I need to be able to talk about them with you. Because this thing between you and I is a serious thing and we need to lock down some future plans. I’m not sure where I’m going to end up, physically or emotionally, but we need to explore all of our options. It’s important to me. You’re important to me. Even if I don’t understand exactly what happened back there, I do understand that I want to fix it. All of it.”

His cheeks are red, his lips are cracked, he looks like hell. He keeps practicing.

“You told me you weren’t thinking about our future and it hurt. Like, I think about you in my life probably more than I should be admitting to right now. And, it’s. Everything got lost in translation and I came off like a massive prick. I’m not blaming you for how I sounded. That’s my own fault. I’m just, terrified we’re not on the same page. We need to be. Same book, same page, same ending.”

He takes a deep breath. It comes out shaky.

“I’m not supposed to tell you I’m in love with you. But I’m telling you I am. And I will follow you wherever we need to be. San Francisco, Chicago, the North Pole… I don’t care. I’ll do it. The fear of leaving my life behind isn’t nearly as scary as the idea of not having a life with you.”

He sighs, wonders how Louis will respond, how he’ll react. Hopefully he takes it as well as Harry’s mirror did.

Harry waits until the crew has gone to bed and all the lights are out before he sneaks back to Louis’, ready to grovel, ready to give Louis whatever the hell he wants just so he never has to be the one to cause that reaction ever again. He does his best to prepare himself for Louis refusing to speak to him, or maybe to send himself home.

He squeezes his eyes shut as he knocks on the door. Worst case scenario, if that’s what Louis wants, Harry’ll just jump into the water, maybe drown a little bit.

Fuck, he’s second guessing everything.

Louis opens the door a moment later, naked sans boxers, and Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. He’s effortlessly beautiful and Harry can hardly stand it. All the words he intended so say are gone, his brain empty other than the swirl of Keep him. Save him. Love him.

“Can I come in?” Harry asks tentatively, voice cracking.

He nods, takes a step back, crosses his arms over his chest, like he’s trying to hide. “Harry…”

Harry can hear the apologetic tone in his voice, can see it in his eyes, and Christ, he knows his boy, what was he thinking. They’re both in this. They’re here. “Lou. I’m, like.” Impossibly in love with you.

Louis reaches out, touches Harry’s hand, and that’s all the invitation Harry needs before he’s pulling Louis into his arms, holding him carefully, tightly. He knows Louis will hook his chin over his shoulder before he actually does it, his stubble rough even though Harry’s t-shirt. He smiles.

They stand there for a while, long enough for Harry to memorize the rhythmic pattern of Louis’ heartbeat against his own, and when they finally break, Louis takes a moment to drag his finger across Harry’s cheek, his movements slow and meticulous.

“Lou,” Harry whispers, his eyes closed, “I’m so sorry.”

He’ll get his thoughts about - eventually, maybe not right now - but first and foremost, he needs Louis to hear his apology, needs him to know how much he’s cared for, needs to let Louis keep touching him like that because it’s enough to keep him from crumbling.

And he knows Louis is going to counter Harry’s apology with his own, which he does immediately, and though it could potentially feel stale to already know someone so thoroughly, it just makes Harry happy. Happy that he’s lucky enough to have this, even if he doesn’t actually have it yet.

Yet.

Harry knows Louis; all doubts are out. They’ll have it. No more questions.

He doesn’t get the rest of his mirror speech in, because Louis slides his hands into Harry’s pockets and rests his head against Harry’s chest and everything else feels like it suddenly comes second.

“I just want to be with you,” Harry murmurs, the most he can spit out.

Louis nods against his t-shirt. “That’s what I want, too.”

“Thank God.”

#this wicked game #answered #drabble #my drabble #sweetwonderful-you

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