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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

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She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder.

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames.

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor. From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this?

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin.

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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annab-nana · 4 years ago

Text

All A Game - JJ Maybank

You were a kook dating the hottest pogue so you should have guessed something was up, but you never would have thought that your relationship with JJ was a joke.

Requested by @rochyu 💙

A/N: just to clarify, this is based on a scene from the movie “after”, so if it seems familiar, that is why

Warnings: some curse words; angst

Word Count: 2.0k+

--------------------------------------------------

Laughter sounded throughout the closed restaurant as you, JJ, and all of his friends—who you too have become quite close within the span of your relationship—were hanging out with cold fries and watered-down drinks before you on the table. These moments were the ones you held close to your heart. They just felt so warm, something you never ever felt with your friends at the kook academy. Your only kook friends that you ever felt a genuine connection with were Rafe and Kelce, but they always tried to come to your rescue even when not necessary which while endearing was a tad annoying. They probably hated you now that you were fraternizing with the enemy so to speak.

The pogues made you feel so at home in a place that despised you and you had actual fun with them. Between surfing, fishing, little adventures, and late nights like tonight at The Wreck, you grew close to them, called them true friends but boy, were you wrong.

There you sat, a wide radiant smile on your face. JJ’s arm was slung around your shoulders as he cracked more jokes. Pope was on your other side, his dorky grin put on display. Kiara and John B sat on the opposite, giggles flying from their lips alongside quick remarks to add to the banter. Another warm moment that would be your last. Your last moment in their presence and you would miss it. You would be savoring it now if only you knew.

“I gotta wring it out. Be right back,” JJ announced before pressing his lips to your temple—the last kiss from him you would receive—and standing up to leave.

“Ew,” you scolded while wiping the kiss off that you’d wish later on you could do with every part of you he and those damn heavenly lips had touched, “don’t kiss me after talking about that.”

“C’mon princess, don’t do that,” he pouted at you as he blew you a kiss and disappeared into the men’s restroom.

“You two are gross,” John B commented, his facial expression showing his disgust for the interaction he had witnessed.

“Like you don’t mack on Sarah every fucking chance you get,” you quipped, earning some laughs from Pope and Kie. “Anyway, I’m in love with him so say all you want. I don’t care.”

As soon as the words left you, the air was thick around you as the tension grew. You felt Pope stiffen next to you and watched as John B and Kie showed similar blank expressions.

“Is… everything alright?” you questioned with a nervous chuckle. Kiara’s eyes flitted to Pope’s for a second whose eyes widened at what she was insinuating before they jumped to John B’s. “What’s going on?”

“I-“ she sighed while she unlocked her phone, “y/n, there’s something you should know about JJ.”

“O-okay,” you stuttered out in a small voice, worry filling your veins only to heighten when you heard his voice.

“Woah, who killed the mood?” the blond joked, trying to lift the spirits of the group but based on your worried expression, Kie’s eyes never meeting his, and Pope and John B shaking their heads, he realized something serious was going on. “What happened?”

Kiara finally revealed what she was looking for on her phone. It was turned sideways so you all could see the video better and front and center was JJ Maybank. She had not played it yet, but you could tell by his surroundings that it was from the night you met him. It was at that party where Sarah drunkenly introduced you to John B. The other pogues were there too but you had no knowledge of them at the time. That’s when you saw him, blond hair a mess but still cute and bright blue eyes that you found captivating. He saw you too and introduced himself before trying to make a move on you. You, of course, rejected him because he was known everywhere for his infamous one-night stands, and you weren’t here for that. You desired something more that at the time, you didn’t think he could provide. He then went back to his friends, the ones you sat around today.

“Kie,” John B warned as she shot a sharp glare at JJ and played the video. You saw yourself in the video looking up at JJ. It was the exact moment you had met him, and Kiara had filmed it.

“Aw, it looks like JJ Maybank just got his first rejection,” Kie spoke from behind the camera while JJ turned around with an amused smile on his face. John B was laughing behind the phone as well, probably heavily intoxicated on alcohol and Sarah.

“You don’t think I can make it happen?” JJ teased, blue eyes going to each of his friends who stood behind Kiara while he quirked a brow teasingly.

“Make what happen, JJ?” Kie asked before she hiccupped. She’d had a few prior to this as well.

“Make her fall in love with me and then,” he paused then snapped his fingers, “turn it off.”

At that, you felt the tears well in your eyes, but they were also glued to the screen in front of you. You saw the smile he wore after he spoke such a damaging statement and it cut you deep inside. As for everyone else, they were watching you. The video stopped mere seconds after he said those painful words and your eyes lifted from the phone to its owner.

“It was all a game,” Kie’s voice spoke to you while wearing a pitiful expression on the face you thought was of a friend, but she didn’t feel like on right now. None of them did. Though she repeated what you already knew, thanks to the video, you could not believe it. Your focus faltered to the table as you tried to calm the thoughts running through your mind. Every moment you shared with him was nothing. It was all meaningless. It was all a lie. He never cared about you and slowly, that was tearing you up inside.

“Y/n?” JJ’s concerned voice entered your ears. How in any way did he have the right to be concerned for you? This was his mess after all. He did this. You didn’t look up from the table. “Y/n,” he tried again, this time reaching for your hand, but you shrugged it off. “Y/n, please, you have to believe me,” he said while you tried your hardest not to look at him, keeping your gaze trained on the table. He leaned in to be a little closer to you.

“Y/n, that was before everything, before I got to know you,” he desperately tried to get you to understand his side of things. Instead of turning to him, you turned to Pope. His big brown eyes scanned your face, seeing how you were breaking, and he hated it for you. His face showed sympathy, but he was in the wrong too, just not as bad as JJ.

“Is that true?” Your voice broke at the last word, and you despised yourself for it. You could see the little line of tears blurring your vision at the bottom, but not one had dared to fall. Pope looked down for a moment. He did not want to be the one to tell you, but his silence answered your question. Your eyes found John B and Kie next. “And all of you knew?” Back to the table your stare went when no one spoke.

“Y/n,” JJ’s shaking voice sounded on your left. Finally giving up, you let your eyes meet his. What a bad idea that was? Once you caught sight of the beautiful blues, it felt like you were drowning. It was like the water was clogging your ears because you saw his lips moving. You knew he was talking, but no sound was coming to you. Through your blurring vision, you saw that he was fighting off tears too, but what did he have to cry about? He broke yourheart, absolutely wrecked it, and here he was with tears in his eyes. Why couldn’t he just turn it off like he said he could? God, you hated him so much right now. Through the deafening silence, you scrambled to stand as JJ did the same with you.

“Y/n, wait,” you thought he said. That’s what it looked like he said, but you would not know. And you wouldn’t be there to find out either as you took off running for the exit. Once outside, the rain could be heard but also so could JJ.

“Y/n, wait,” he tried again but you kept walking. “Y/n!”

“None of it was real,” you paused to breathe as you faced him, “I actually thought… I thought that-” Your words were cut off by that feeling of your chest tightening as the emotions swirled inside you. That gummy feeling rose to your throat and blocked you from speaking for a moment and JJ noticed this. He knew you now. He knew how you looked when the world was crumbling all around you and that’s how you looked right now. He hated that he was the one who had caused this. “You’re just a liar.”

“That was all before,” he tried to fight, tried to get you to fucking understand but it was too hard. It would never make sense to you and how could it?

“Before what?” you inquired. You were emotionally drained and honestly so done with this situation that you knew you should have seen coming. Love can blind you sometimes though.

“Before-”

“You snapped your fingers and turned it off?” you asked after cutting him off. Guilt was written all over his face and you watched as he thought about what to say next.

“You said nothing could change the way you felt about me.” Yes, JJ, but that was before I knew you were playing some game with me! That’s what you wanted to scream at him. God, you wanted to scream at him, but you didn’t have it in you at the moment.

“Then, I guess we’re both liars,” you stated, plain and simple. You watched as his head hung low and you decided you were done with this, turning to leave. Nothing seemed to be on your side tonight because you had come with everyone in John B’s van after he picked you up so now you had to walk home in the rain. Luckily, The Wreck was between your land and theirs so it wouldn’t be a long trek and the rain masked your tears so to onlookers, you were just walking alone in the rain. Not as sad as you would seem if they had known what was really happening but still pretty pathetic. Your feet took you into the land of the kooks and surprisingly to Tannyhill where Rafe sat outside in his truck.

“What were you doing alone in the rain? Shouldn’t you be with those demons?” Rafe teased, attempting to get you to smile but failing miserably.

“Don’t talk about them,” you barked before letting out your next word a lot more silently and vulnerably, “please.”

“Are you okay?” Anytime someone asks that when you are trying to fight back tears, it always breaks the dam.

“No,” you muttered, but he was quick to pull you into his arms to comfort your sobbing state.

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” You laughed after that. It was funny hearing him apologize on a pogue’s behalf. “What’s so funny?” he asked, a little laughter in his tone as well.

“Nothing, just you’re not telling me ‘I told you so’ or whatever,” you told him honestly, but he was just glad to see you smiling again.

“Wanna go inside? I imagine you’re cold.” You nodded in response as Rafe turned off the vehicle and reached for the door to leave, but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

“I- uh, sorry. I just wanted to say thank you,” you muttered before he shot you a smile and hugged you again, his lips finding the top of your head in a friendly manner.

“Anytime, y/n.”

--------------------------------------------------

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kingpreciouswrld · 3 years ago

Note

Hi luv, can you do a angst to fluff Miranda Priestly imagine where Andrea comes back to Runway to confess her feelings for Miranda, but Miranda is in a relationship w/ the reader and has to choose between them. At the end Miranda chooses the reader!

Wants and Needs

Title from Drake's song -"Wants and Needs"

Pairing: Miranda Priestly x Reader

Genre: Angst -> Fluff

Word count: 2k

A/N: God you know I'm a sucker for angsty Miranda 😫 I hope you like it! All mistakes are mine ;-;

__________

The phone landed on the sofa with a soft bounce as you sat back into your own chair with a sigh.

You just got a call from Nigel. He called you right when he got back from leaving Miranda’s office and told you that he saw her walking into the office.

Her being the infamous Andrea Sachs.

The young journalist was known as the one who walked away alive. And thanks to Nigel, you also knew Andrea as the girl who was in love with her ex-boss and your girlfriend, Miranda Priestly.

It wasn’t new information to those who knew the young journalist. Nigel had told you that the girl developed feelings for the editor during her tenure at Runway. So far, the girl never showed any interest in Miranda after she walked away in Paris, and you hoped it stayed that way.

Your relationship with Miranda wasn’t public and you liked it that way. Miranda wanted to keep things underwraps until the both of you were ready to face the numerous paparazzi, critics, and the unavoidable page six, but keeping things underwraps meant that no one knew the editor was taken.

There was no reason for the girl to be at Runway unless...no, no, you needed to use a wise mind. But the journalist wrote small columns in a mediocre newspaper, so why would she be in Runway’s offices?

You tried your best to not jump to conclusions but if anything, you had faith in Miranda. She didn’t like to be bothered during Runway hours unless it was a family matter so you knew she would ignore the girl.

You hoped she would.

You didn’t know much about how Miranda felt about Andrea, she never talked about it.

Either way, there was nothing you could do with the information you were given, you weren’t going to call Miranda at work,

So you just waited.

~~~~~~~

The shutting of the front door followed by heels clacking on tiled floors told you that Miranda was home.

You didn't need to check the time for it to tell you that Miranda was late, more late than usual.

You followed her movements with your hearing, never breaking your staring contest with the painting in front of you.

She was getting closer.

You didn’t have to tell her where you were, you didn't have the energy to anyway but she always came to the study to work on the book.

“Darling there you are.” Miranda bent down and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

You responded with a hum and watched as your lover made herself comfortable on the sofa across from you.

“How was your day? Did you manage to turn in your project on time?” she asked as she put on her reading glasses before turning to the book.

You were too out of it to answer her questions. Your day was...fine, it was tolerable, but your mind was running at a thousand miles per second and it made you despondent.

Not getting a reply from you, Miranda looked up from the book, “Darling?” she asked softly, "is everything alright?"

"Hm?" Your eyes found icey blue ones that were filled with concern. "Oh, yeah–yes, everything's fine."

Satisfied with your response, Miranda sent you a soft smile before she returned her focus to the fashion pages in her lap.

The silence that followed swallowed you whole, only broken with the few scratches of Miranda's red pen and the flipping of pages.

"Why was Andrea at Runway today?"

At least you held off for longer than you thought you would.

Miranda's focus didn't falter, the only telltale sign that she heard you was the sharp inhale through her nose.

"What are you talking about darling?"

"Andrea Sachs. Why was she there?"

Miranda made no move to stop her work and you sighed,

"It's just a question Miranda."

Knowing that she couldn't get any work done until you were addressed, Miranda finally looked up at you, taking her glasses off in the process,

"If you must know, she was just there to talk."

"Okay," you nodded slowly, "talk about what?"

The white-haired editor fluffed her hair before she waved you off, "It's nothing, really."

"Miranda you never just 'talk' to someone during work let alone an ex-assistant who walked out on you. She worked for you Miranda, I thought you wouldn't be caught dead with someone like–"

"Do NOT talk about Andréa like that," Miranda snapped.

Miranda had never raised her voice at you and it made you physically flinch. She was defending Andrea.

For the first time since the relationship started, you were shaken. You couldn't read Miranda at all and it scared you.

Without warning, your mask slipped in place and you became eerily calm,

"What happened," you said quietly.

Miranda had gone back to the book albeit working slower than usual,

"The girl merely wanted to have dinner."

The puzzle pieces were settling into place. You could feel your stomach clench. Your heart sped up, and you felt your nerves set off as the waves of anxiety spread from your chest throughout your whole body,

"That's why you were late wasn't it…"

Miranda simply continued with her work as she pushed some of her bangs out of her eyes, "Don't be ridiculous Y/N, it was just about friends catching up."

"You never talked about her, you refused to talk about her, she isn't just a 'friend' Miranda."

There was a silent pause as you observed your lover. Her own mask was in place and she was blatantly ignoring the situation. She wouldn't even look you in the eye.

"She asked you out again, didn't she."

A whispered 'yes' cut through the silence.

You took a deep, steadying breath,

"What did you say."

Silence. Miranda returned to the book, turning the pages and making notes here and there. She never once acknowledged you, it was as if the editor shut you out completely.

It broke your heart.

"I hope having your fun is worth it."

You quietly approached the editor, making sure you didn't jostle the book in her lap, before you bent down and placed your own kiss on her forehead.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything else. The answer of silence was an answer in itself.

Quietly leaving the study, you made your way up to your– to Miranda's bedroom and gathered your clothes into a duffle bag. You didn't want to stay here, you couldn't. You didn't know what all of this meant, it was too much for you to process, but you knew you had to leave.

~~~~~~~

A year of being together and a journalist is what comes between the two of you. A year. A fucking year.

And now, here you were, sitting alone in a hotel room for the 8th day in a row.

How easy it was for Miranda to look at another.

Throughout the week you did your best to not doubt yourself. You knew Miranda's curiosity had nothing to do with how you were as a person or a lover, but you couldn't help that little voice in the back of your head that questioned why you weren't enough to satisfy Miranda.

After the second day of being away from the editor, she started to blow up your phone. Calls on top of calls came through, even during Runway hours and Miranda never called you during Runway hours, maybe texted, but never called.

The night you left the townhouse was the last time you talked to Miranda. Even though she's made many, many attempts to reach you, you weren't ready. Those self-doubts made you hesitant to pick up any of the calls that came to your phone.

On the third day she started to get Nigel and Emily to contact you. You told Nigel what happened and he wasn't happy with what Miranda had done. Emily heard what happened the first time she had contacted you and the redhead wasn't thrilled either. Although Emily was hard to deal with at times, you knew she wanted the best for you and right now she didn't think Miranda was what's best for you. Either way, both of them knew the situation and both of them promised to keep your location underwraps.

That, in turn, caused Miranda to double her attempts (as if they weren't enough already).

She started to send gifts, flowers, anything the editor thought you might like.

When you would arrive at work, there would be a bouquet of flowers on your desk, then throughout the day more bouquets would follow. Hell the woman would send you chocolates, not the cheap ones either, the best chocolates money could buy in New York City. You started to find Roy waiting for you after work and despite your attempts of refusal, you caved in after he personally wanted to see you make it back to wherever you were staying, safely.

Every mutual friend you had with Miranda knew where you were and what had happened between you two, and each of them promised to keep quiet on the matter.

You knew you couldn't hide forever, you just didn't know when she'd finally find you.

A knock on your hotel door snapped you out of your thoughts.

Your breath hitched. It couldn't be Miranda right? You've managed to slip away for 8 days, surely you had more time.

Looking through the little peep hole, you felt your body relax before confusion passed over your features. You never ordered room service. Unless you did and just forgot about it.

You shrugged, 'Free food is free food.' You opened the door and followed the bellhop as he pushed the cart in. Taking a closer look, you found that the cart held a tray of your favorite foods with a basket of your favorite snacks.

"Um, excuse me, where did you get all of this?"

"You only deserve the best."

You whipped around and found Miranda standing in the doorway.

She looked as if she came from work. Her famously white hair had fallen out of it's usual coif and there were a few wrinkles on her blouse.

What surprised you was the fact that the usual poised editor was fidgeting with her fingers. You could practically feel the anxiety rolling off of her body in waves. It was only then that you noticed that the two of you were now alone in your hotel room.

Miranda didn't know where to start, "Y/N, I…" she took a deep breath, "I love you and I-I'm sorry for my lapse in judgement about the whole..Andréa spiel."

You watched as Miranda took tentative steps forward, gaining more confidence when she didn't get any refusal from you.

She took hold of your hands and pressed kisses to them both, "Darling, it's you. I love you and only you. There has never been a moment since you left that I haven't thought of you."

"Miranda…" you whispered softly.

She shook her head and squeezed your hands, "I need you. I should have never entertained the thought of life without you by my side. I choose you Y/N, I love you."

You bit your lip before you sent a small smile towards the editor and Miranda's eyes brightened. She pulled you into a crushing hug and she clung to you like a koala as she kissed any part of your body that was in reach: your shoulder, your neck, your hair. All the while, she whispered 'I love you's' and 'I'm sorry's' and 'Y/N' as if chanting these things would keep you two in the moment. You indulged in the love that was showered on you and you hugged Miranda back just as tightly.

Miranda finally settled to hide her face in the crook of your neck,

"How did you find me?"

Her response was muffled by your neck but you heard it all the same,

"I may have threatened Emily with the banning of cheese in the offices."

You snorted a laugh.

'Ratted out for cheese cubes..are cheese gift baskets a thing?’

__________

Devil Wears Prada tags: @007giu

#miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #meryl streep #meryl streep movies

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years ago

Text

Supernova (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: None! Lmao finally

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: As the daughter of Wonder Woman, you always knew you were destined for something more than the life of a mortal. It seemed like your wish for a life of adventure came true but whether in the form of a blessing or curse, you didn’t know. All you know is that you were the sole witness for a chain of murders that would begin. It’s up to you to find out who was the murderer before it’s too late……

A/N: It's a sweet chapter ya'll. I promise.

Supernova Masterlist

“You’re sweaty.” Robin murmured when you rested your forehead against the nape of his neck. You both were exhausted after training and you were a shower away from passing out in your bed but you both still needed a few minutes to catch your breath, leaning on each other for support. Even though he was complaining about you sweating, he didn’t seem to do anything to get away from you, even going so far as to wrap an arm around your shoulder.

You felt him swallowing the gulps of water against your skin before scoffing and wiping your skin with a towel, “As if you’re any better, my eyes are stinging from your sweat.”

Then you both dissolved back to silence, quietly enjoying each other’s company as the night slowly bled into day.

“Do you ever wonder what smoking feels like?” You asked and Robin laughed, making you whine when he began shaking, moving your body in tandem with his because of it. Even though you pinched his side to get him to stop laughing, it was useless since it made him laugh even harder, slugging you off his shoulder as your back hit the training mat.

“It wasn’t even that funny.”

“It was random."

“I was just thinking about it. I can hardly breathe when someone else is smoking beside me. I wonder how it feels actually inhaling the stuff.” You wondered, now getting comfortable on your back and he lay down beside you, “I guess some people enjoy it.”

It was silent again and you yawned, waiting for your body to cool off. The unfortunate thing about living at Happy Harbor was that the weather was unusually hot during the summer, so hot that even the water ended up getting to a scorching temperature. If you went for a shower straight after training, you’d be slowly boiled to perfection.

But the more you waited, the sleepier you got.

Robin spared you a glance as you yawned once again, stifling his own. The training had been taking a toll on him, since he would come to the cave right after patrol instead of sleep at the Manor. Partly because he liked seeing you improve in combat and get better each day and partly because he just liked seeing you.

If he caught you on a good day, you were fun to be around, cheerful and funny. Your energies mixed together well, fitting together like two puzzle pieces but he never lingered on that thought for long. For now, Robin just wanted to be supportive and a good friend. He’d seen firsthand how much you could change when things hurt you and he never wanted to push you towards that again.

His mind drifted back to the day in the interrogation room, the way you didn’t have any remorse for Thelma when she cried and screamed in front of you. It was so unlike you and for a few brief moments he wondered if he ever knew you at all.

He looked at you again, noticing the way you were smiling at nothing, the sheen of sweat on your face and neck before rethinking. He knew you; he was sure of that. And he liked you for it too.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just that prom is next week at school. Before Valerie I would’ve pleaded to go but I don’t think I’d want to return to school after this.” You said thoughtfully, suddenly thinking about what you would do if you made out of all this alive.

“Maybe you should transfer to my school.” He said absentmindedly. It wasn’t really a suggestion that he thought you’d accept but he actually liked the thought of you going to his school.

You sent him a teasing smile, “Oh? Boy Wonder actually goes to school? Not some advanced intelligence nerd program?”

He laughed at this, “You’re one to talk.”

It was silent for the next couple moments once again while you both rested comfortably. This was the thing he appreciated the most about your relationship; when it was silent, he wasn’t scrambling to find some conversation piece to fill the silence. He wasn’t unaccustomed to awkward silence but it never felt awkward when he was with you. It was just silence.

He could stay beside you and just stay silent and that was enough. He liked that.

“What color are your eyes?” You asked again, curious.

“Like I’d tell you.” He sighed, sounding way too comfortable for his own good. You kicked him lighter than you were intending to.

“They’re brown, aren’t they?”

“Why brown?”

“Because I feel like any other color would give you an unfair advantage.”

He settled in further, wanting the training mats to suddenly feel like his mattress back home, “Well I’m no swim team captain but.”

“Jealous?”

“Sure.”

The sweat was making the mats stick to your skin and you felt it aggressively peel from your skin when you turned on your side to face him. Now you were made painfully aware about the cold sweat pooling below you and realized you were in desperate need for a shower.

You rubbed his arm gently, wishing him a good night even though you knew that the sun was up. Robin returned the gesture with a smile, telling you to get a good night’s sleep. As he watched your receding back, a thought came to his mind and he stopped you in your tracks.

“Here’s a thought, why don’t we do something on prom night? Have our own little thing right here? We could watch a movie or something.” He proposed and your brows furrowed, “Don’t you have prom too?”

He did. Which was planned and decorated with the money his father had generously donated. But Dick didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for missing it. He also knew it was the only night that the others wouldn’t be home, all at their own prom. As long as he would get to have a fun night with you.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t planning on going anyway.” Alfred had already pressed his suit and had a special corsage ordered. He was going with Barbara, as friends, but cancelling on her seemed like a small feat in the moment.

“Are you sure?” “Definitely.”

You smiled slightly, nodding before waving goodbye and continuing on your way to the showers. When he heard the door shut, Dick realized just what he had gotten himself to and flopped back onto the mats, ‘What did I just do?’

He’d have to cancel the limo without his dad or Alfred finding out. He’d have to cancel the reservations at the restaurant. For goodness’ sake, he’d have to take a rain check on Barbara. Still, Dick wasn’t able to wipe the smile off his face.

***

You were oddly looking forward to hanging out with Robin tonight. Everyone had already left for their own proms, Zatanna was in a dress that she had borrowed from you. Even though you knew that the prom dress you had been planning to wear would’ve been the best for her school theme, you had a weirdly hard time parting from it, considering it was just a piece of clothing.

All three girls spent a couple hours primping with you, trying their best to include you in some of the fun. You even managed to rope Artemis into getting glammed up. She protested a lot at first but once she got in the chair it was like you had tamed a jungle cat. They had time to style your hair as well and you barely had any idea what was happening while Doja Cat played and you had a sheet mask on. After getting that off, you felt like a new born baby.

You sent all three of them off after taking a ton of pictures and they told you to have a great night too, smiling like they knew something you didn’t.

Now that the cave was completely empty, even Aqualad had left that morning to pay a visit to Atlantis, you were left alone with Robin and were excited about it. You weren’t going to do anything special anyway, other than watching a movie and stuffing your face with food but you were still happy to spend some time with him when you both weren’t sweating like pigs.

Even the thought of sitting beside him on the couch while a movie played had a skip in your step.

Just as you saw the doors to the main hall and a familiar head of hair, you picked up the pace until you stopped walking all together, shocked.

Because there stood Robin waiting by the door with a shy smile on his face. Dressed in a suit and tie.

You chocked out a laugh, not quite sure why it felt like the wind was knocked out of you before walking up to him, gently pulling his fingers away from the tie he was fidgeting with and straightening it out, “A little over-dressed for a movie, don’t you think?”

“Change of plans, we’re going to have our own prom night, right here.”

You giggled, reclipping the tie clip before straightening out the corsage in his breast pocket. You spared a glance up, meeting his eyes and you realized just how close the both of you had gotten. If he didn’t have the sunglasses on, you would’ve been able to see your reflection in his—probably— brown eyes.

You cleared your throat, stepping away from him not before smoothing your hands down the lapels, smiling at just how handsome he looked.

“Wish you would’ve told me. I would’ve matched what I’m wearing to your tie.” You teased.

“Actually, you can.” You raised a brow at this and the red began crawling up his neck, “I asked your mom to drop your dress off. It’s in your room.”

The uncomfortable conversation with Wonder Woman about why he wanted the particular dress that her daughter of the same age was planning to wear to prom was completely worth it when he watched your eyes light up like the sun before throwing your arms around his neck, “Oh my god! I love you!”

The dress fit you like a glove, even though the last time you wore tried it on it had been a teeny bit snug. All those hours training with Robin probably made it fit a little better even though you didn’t look any different. You stood in front of the mirror and couldn’t stop twirling; the dress was just so beautiful and you were over the moon that you got to wear it.

When you met Robin by the door, it felt a little too good to be true, the way he smiled at you just as your eyes met and then held out his arm for you to take. Your heart was sure to stop beating tonight at the rate it was thumping in your chest. You could barely hear him over the sound of it, filled with too much adrenaline and excitement. You could’ve gone for a 100-mile run with the amount of energy you suddenly had.

“You look pretty.”

You grinned and curtsied in an old-fashioned way, tipping an imaginary hat, “Why, thank you. You look pretty dapper yourself.”

He laughed, “Dapper?”

“It’s a word, look it up, tweetie bird.”

“And now all the magic’s dead.”

“Oh? Because I was expecting you to pull out a bouquet from your sleeve there.”

“Actually—” He smiled, pulling out a matching corsage from his suit pocket and holding it out to you, “I went all out.”

He helped you fasten it around your wrist when you struggled to do it with one hand and your breath got caught in your throat. It was awkward, to say the least, the energy between the both of you. In fact, there was so much tension that you felt like you could choke on it. Even though your first response to any kind of distress was to hide underneath the blankets in your bedroom, you still stayed by his side.

“So, what are we waiting for? What movie are we watching?”

It seemed like he finally remembered why he was standing outside the hall in the first place and smiled shyly, a blush faintly painting his cheeks. It felt like he was stalling the more you thought about it, lingering at the door for way too long as if something would explode or jump at you if he put his hand on the handle.

“Actually—”

He opened the door and you gasped, “You need to stop saying ‘Actually’ because every time you do, I get a heart attack.”

How he managed to get all this done in a day was beyond you. The table was filled with snacks and drinks that you knew was meant to be left over for Wally to finish. The TV had a blanket fort in front of it, looking so cozy that you suddenly wanted to take a nap. The holo-computer was projecting something similar to a carnival game, with a couple targets levitating mid-air, labelled with different points.

Your heart fluttered when you realized that Robin had gone through all this just to make sure you’d have a fun night and suddenly your eyes felt alarmingly wet.

“You’re not gonna cry, are you?” Came his incredulous response and you gave him the weakest punch you could possibly muster because you knew any harder could give your date a hairline fracture, “Excuse me. It’s a perfectly healthy emotional response.”

“Yeah, but you cry a lot, have you realized?” He teased, pulling you toward the holo-computer, giving you a simulator stun gun and then picking one up for himself.

“You don’t cry at all, Mr. Roboto,” You cocked the gun and pointed at him playfully, “But no matter, you’ll be crying once I beat you to dust.”

His signature laugh was the next thing you heard and you blushed, embarrassed that you liked it more than you cared to admit, “Let’s just see about that.”

***

“And then she goes—Word for word, I’m not even kidding—” You told, picking up a tennis ball and using it to imitate an apple before pretending to take a bite out of it, “Young lady, eating is simply not allowed on school premises. *crunch* These rules obviously apply to everyone. *crunch* No one is above the rules. *crunch*”

Robin was laughing at your horrible British accent and the way you tried so hard to sound all hoity-toity, had Alfred been here he would’ve been appalled. To be quite honest, you weren’t even sure if the lady was British or not, but it seemed fitting and the way Robin was laughing made you embarrassing yourself a teensy bit worth it.

“Not to mention she’s spewing apple chunks all over me. I can never unsee that image.” You shuddered, shaking your head and his laughs dulled down to chuckles.

“That’s not that bad. Once, our health class teacher was covering contraceptives and such. And he stands in front of the entire class and, with absolutely no hesitation, asks ‘So boys and girls, what are your favorite condom brands?’” You burst into laughter at that hiding your face in your hands as tears began blurring your vision.

“Oh, my goodness, I can’t breathe, stop talking!” You interrupted his story, clutching your stomach and flopping on your back from laughing so hard. He laughed, watching you writhe on the floor, unable to stop the choked chortles that were leaving your lips. Your stomach felt like you had just done an ab workout.

The movie that was playing had long gotten over, the credits frozen on the screen as you both continued to talk, recounting all the hilarious stories you could remember as music played in the background, “Alright, so it’s an all-girls program and all of the girls are chattering about and have their own little groups in the auditorium. And my principal goes, ‘Why are you all standing so close? You all are straight girls, are you not?’”

“Not as bad as a girl volunteering to sing during a school assembly before serenading me in front of the entire school. Even though we’ve never actually talked.” He blushed, remembering just how embarrassing the situation was. You threw your head back, missing the moment Robin took to admire you.

“You little Casanova. Are you really complaining about being a heartthrob?” You teased, nudging him playfully and he rolled his eyes though it was hidden by his glasses.

Eventually the stories and laughter begin to die down as your ears tune into the music playing in the background. Just as a fun, rap song that you weren’t paying attention to but were sure had something to do with sex ended, you heard the familiar tune flow through the speakers and smiled as the singers’ voices filled your ears.

“Ahh, I love this song.” You smiled, listening to the first verse. It was a pretty love song that always got you singing when you heard it playing in the car. It was the song you listened to on repeat when you read a romance book to give you the right feels. Closing your eyes, you recalled the last book you read to the music, smiling as the feeling of giddiness began to flow through you.

“Care to join me for a dance?”

When you opened your eyes, Robin was holding a hand out for you, a gentle and reassuring smile on his face and you didn’t hesitate before taking his hand. If he had asked at the start of the night, you probably would’ve blushed and felt nervous just by holding his hand but after spending a couple hours together, you were finally in tune with each other.

You didn’t mind resting your hands on his shoulders as his floated around your waist before you began swaying to the rhythm. You had spent the whole day together, more or less in the same way; resting against each other while watching the movie, holding his hand when he attempted to throw a ball with your lacrosse stick and failing before you stepped behind him to show him how it was done and finally feeding each other food as you attempted to play the guess different foods while blindfolded.

You giggled at the way Robin squirmed when the petals of your corsage tickled his neck, still swaying out of beat to the song but it didn’t really matter, you were just trying hard not to trip over the slight train of the dress or on his feet.

“It’s occurring to me that I haven’t actually thanked you for all of this.” You began, eyes darting around the place as you took in just how much he had done for you today and your heart swelled in your chest, smiling softly without even realizing it. His fingers tightened their grip on your waist slightly and the light blush crawling on his cheeks was the only indication that he was feeling slightly embarrassed.

You looked him back in the eye, well at your reflection in his sunglasses, “I’m really touched, Rob. No one’s ever done anything like this for me and I really don’t know what to say to make you understand just how much this means to me. Thank you.”

Thank you didn’t even begin to express how much you felt for him at this point, dancing with you in bare feet across the hall. A night you had been dreading for a while, a night you thought would be spent all alone was made one of the best ones since you opened your eyes on the planet just because of him. You couldn’t tell him how grateful you were for that.

He felt embarrassed that you were putting him on the spot this way. You had said so much and a simple ‘You��re welcome’ didn’t seem right to say. It felt awkward and distant and off-putting, how would you continue the conversation after he so rudely shut you down without any other way to continue?

His hands were slightly sweating against your dress and if you noticed the increase of warmth from his palms, you didn’t say anything. So, he said the only thing he could to sort of fill the silence, “It was nothing, really. You really don’t have to thank me; I didn’t do much. Besides, I hardly think any of this could compare to your real pro—”

He was cut of by your hands slowly sliding to delicately cup his cheeks before slanting your lips over his in your first kiss. He inhaled sharply against your lips, fingertips digging into your waist. The kiss itself wasn’t much, just a silky brush of your lips against his without any pressure before you pulled back and gave him an endearing smile, “Thank you.”

He returned it, pulling you a teensy bit closer so he could hold you against him but still far enough so you couldn’t feel his heartbeat thrumming against his ribcage.

***

Not even twenty minutes after the two of you had parted with whispered goodnights, you climbed up the stairs to Robin’s nest, with your makeup freshly washed off and dressed in comfy pajamas. You saw the tip of Robin’s head peek out from the beanbag and smiled. Your heart was slowly sinking to your stomach with the thought of talking to him.

“Hey.”

He turned around, seemingly surprised to see you which he never seemed before. Usually, he could hear you from a mile away. The tie around his neck was loosened, the top button undone and his suit jacket lay wrinkled beside him, though he was still wearing his glasses.

Nonetheless, he gave you a gentle smile, scooting over a little so you could plop beside him on the beanbag, “Missed me already?”

“Yeah.” The honesty in your voice caught him off-guard and he found himself blushing and avoiding your eyes as he waited for you to speak again and tell him why you came up here. Of course, his heart leaped at the thought that you were up here just to see him, even though you spent the whole night together.

“Listen about earlier,” He turned his head to you but this time it was you who wouldn’t look at him, playing with your fingers in your lap, “About the kiss; I’m sorry.”

He could hardly hear anything other than his heartbeat when he heard the tone in your voice and he knew that something bad was going to come. Were you going to tell him that it was a mistake and that you regret it? He wouldn’t hold it against you but his heart tore at even the thought.

“I shouldn’t have done it without asking for permission first, I’m sorry. I was just reliving it and I realized that I never actually asked if I could, you know? It’s just I really like you and got caught up in nerves and emotions and all—” Somehow you managed to catch yourself rambling and stopped, taking a deep breath, “Anyway, if it made you uncomfortable, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

You glanced back up at him with a shy smile, “Are you gonna say something or, do you want me to leave….”

If it was possible, you looked even more beautiful barefaced and hair pulled back from your face than you did in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen you in before.

“Could I kiss you? Please?”

Your breath got caught in your throat and you found yourself leaning in before you could even think of saying anything.

Who were you to say no?

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Text

harmless (iv)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch.

They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”

“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”

“I pulled myself out of the case.”

“I thought you were having fun.”

Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”

Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was.

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them.

“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest.

“What?”

“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”

Steve and he look at each other.

“Well?” Steve prods.

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist.

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free.

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing.

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack.

“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel.

“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously.

“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”

“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.”

The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky.

“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”

He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it.

“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”

“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”

Of course.

“The staff?” he asks again.

“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”

“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”

You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper.

Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.

Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.

“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”

“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.

“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.

“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”

His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?

He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.

“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back.

“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.

If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.

New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.

“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”

Your grip on the gun falters.

“If I let him go...”

“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”

You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.

“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house.

“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”

Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.

He expects blood to be splatter across his face.

Nothing happens.

A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.

“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”

The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.

The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.

“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.

“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Where is the agent assigned to your case?”

“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”

Bucky’s nose twitches.

“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t.

“I could have.”

“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats.

“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”

“You held someone hostage as leverage.”

“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”

“You’re evil.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”

He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it.

“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects.

“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.

You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.

“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.

He only watches you leave.

It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.

He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over.

It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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redhead-batgal · 3 years ago

Text

Type: Two-Shot {A really really long part-one}

Part Two: Here

Pairing: Fem! and Librarian! Reader x Dick Grayson/Nightwing

Content: Cursing, flirtations, violence, reader with serious anxiety and some minor implications. Fluff, so much fluff.

P.S: An OC of mine is making an appearance in this so yeah just a heads up, it’s not the reader but she will be in it. Anyways, enjoy!

Word Count (So y’all know what you’re getting yourself into): 12,709 words

Y/N: Your Name, L/N: Last Name

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You hadn't meant for anyone to see, you thought that after hours of no patrons it would be fine, however you were wrong. It was more embarrassing than anything, embarrassing all because it wasn't just anyone who had caught you. No it just had to be the first man you found yourself crushing on since the nasty break up with your Ex, Daniel. It just had to be Dick Grayson who caught you dancing through the aisle as you reshelved books, of course it did. It was just your luck.

A pop song had played on the radio as you drove in to work and it had gotten stuck in your head, when everything went quiet at the library, you felt the need to sing. And singing, usually led to dancing, reshelving the books was just for something productive to do really.

You had just slid a book back onto the shelf when the song in your head had a melody that seemed perfectly twirl worthy. So, you started twirling. And then you kept twirling, hoping to spin your entire way back to your desk to grab more books. However, before you made it to your desk you slammed straight into someone.

Instead of going tumbling to the ground like you expected, you felt hands on your waist steadying you. Blinking, you looked and found Dick Grayson smiling at you.

Shit.

Heat flushed your cheeks and you're fairly sure you let out a squeak or a squawk in surprise, due to the fact that Jason suddenly began coughing and hitting his chest. That unfortunately made you realize exactly what had just happened.

Twirling and slamming straight into Dick.

Fucking shit.

You felt like an idiot and shame burned bright on your cheeks. You were seconds from going into an all out panic at not only being caught doing your guilty pleasure, but you had seriously embarrassed yourself in front of your crush. A habit that you wished had died in high school.

Almost as if he sensed your panic, Dick instantly let go of you and took a step back. You nodded in thanks, feeling the terror climb up your throat as the thoughts slammed into you.

He's going to think you're too weird, he'll never talk to you again

You tried to push the thoughts back or counter them. It wasn't true, Dick was nice and something as small as catching you twirling wouldn't drive him away right? ....... Oh no, this wasn't good. He was probably never going to forget this, forever remembering you as the bumbling fool who twirled right into him.

As if he'd think of you, The thoughts seethed.

You forced a smile and it was then you realized he had said something to you. He was looking at you expectantly... he had asked you a question. A friendly smile was on his face and you tried to remember what he asked you.

Taking small glances at his face you realized that you had squeaked out a sorry instinctively after slamming into him. But other than that you couldn't recall what he said and even more panic raced over you.

He's going to think your an ass for not listening when he was speaking, it's rude and you are one

Resisting shoving your face into your hands you let out a small sigh and squeezed your eyes shut. If you wanted to answer his question, you were going to have to ask him to repeat it.

You ran through possible excuses and two popped into your head instantly.

Sorry long day, could you repeat that?

What was the question again?

The first one seemed perfect so you opened your mouth to speak and then you met his gaze.

"Sorrylongquestionrepeatthatday?"

He blinked and you saw the confusion on his face and you nearly wince. You knew that you could get it if you tried again.

Unfortunately you were wrong.

"Sorrypleaserepeatthaquestlong."

"What?"

Wincing you put a hand to your face and dragged it across it. Avoiding his gaze with your hands balled into fists you raised your voice slightly.

"Uh. sorry. can. you. please. repeat. the. question?" You remark slowly, pausing to make sure none of the words blur together again.

"Oh, yeah sure. I asked what you were doing that caused you to run into me? It looked like you were having fun, so I got a little curious. "

FUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK

"Oh uhm, well- uh it's super embarrassing, so I- uh- like- yeah." You stumbled over a reply before holding two thumbs up.

He looked at you confused for a moment before you decide not facing him was the best way to get through this. Moving quickly towards your desk, which was only a few feet away, you internally began planning your own funeral.

Moving behind the desk you sank down into your chair and spun around. Finding the top of a dark head you blinked until you saw the head raise and realized it was just Damian. He looked at your for a few seconds before narrowing his eyes and placing a book on the counter.

"Last time you recommended this book."

Picking up the book you looked at the title and cover. It was a standalone book by an author you rather liked, when the young boy had asked for a recommendation you nearly jumped for joy. Recommending books was one of your favorite things to do as a librarian.

"Yes, did you like it- sorry. Did you enjoy it?" You asked as you flipped through the pages, a habit to make sure nothing was stuck in the book and to keep you calm.

Something you realized with the youngest Wayne, was he preferred to be treated as an adult- or how he thought adults should be treated. So you pretend he was a scholar and talked to him as such. Damian appeared to be happy with the way you treated him and didn't completely hate you so you were content... at least for now.

"It was... adequate. Do you have any other recommendations?"

A smile played on your lips as you set the book down and a calming wave raced over you. Books were the one thing you could talk about and never falter, they were the one thing you knew so much about that you were sure you couldn't mess up talking about it.

"Well this author has multiple books that they've written... what was it about the book that made it... satisfactory? Was it the plot, the characters, or the writing style? Maybe even the genre?"

Damian's brow furrowed and you realized he didn't exactly know what he liked about the book. However, before you could offer to pick out another book for him, the boy nodded and stepped back from your desk.

"I will look into the other novels. Thank you."

He turned and began heading towards the aisles, the smile exploded on your face and you called after him.

"Happy to help."

Less than a minute later, Dick followed Damian shooting you a small smile. You instinctively looked down as your shame from earlier slammed into you yet again. After a minute or two you looked up and noticed how both he and Damian were out of sight. A sigh of relief escaped you and Jason came up to your desk, an eyebrow raised.

"You really fucked that up, you know." He remarked, setting a few books down.

Due to him constantly coming around and talking to you about books, you had become somewhat comfortable around Jason.

Rolling your eyes you waved a hand at him, "Oh buzz off asshole."

With a small smile on his face he raised his hands and shrugged. He apparently found your humiliation amusing, which did not surprise you.

"I'm just saying." Jason said with a mischievous smile on his face.

You gave him an irritated look and replied, "And I'm just saying I never asked."

He blinked almost in surprise and he raised an eyebrow at you and you dropped his gaze. Despite knowing him fairly well you still had a hard time looking him, or anyone else really, in the eyes for long periods of time. There was only really one person you didn’t mind looking in the eyes... and that of course was because it wasn’t his eyes you were looking into, but a mask. Before your thoughts could drift towards your vigilante friend a comment yanked you back into reality.

"Well someone's touchy today."

You gave Jason a look, he was seriously testing your patience today. It was bad enough that he just stood there and laughed as you made a complete fool of yourself in front of your crush. You had expected him to at least help you out a little bit but he didn’t even though he knew how you felt about his brother... Maybe it was because of that.

He smiled at you and that only intensified your anger, you glared at him and he took a step back looking slightly defensive. If there was one thing about yourself you were proud of, it was your glare. You had been told that it scared even the bravest of Gotham’s vigilantes... though now that you think about it that was probably a sarcastic comment.

"Hey,” Jason began leaning onto your desk, “as your friend I felt I should tell you."

Rolling your eyes you shook your head and began checking the book Damian had returned back in, "Of course you did."

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him narrow his eyes and move in closer to the desk. He was giving you a look almost as if he was daring you to say that again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks his voice pitching.

Sometimes, he’s rather sensitive. Shooting him looks out of the corner of your eyes you tried to fight off the smile that was working its way onto your face.

"Take a guess."

He lets out a slight huff and curses under his breath as if he realized you were messing with him. Peeking at him you find Jason shaking his head, a amused-yet-irritated smile on his face. You reached over and grabbed a couple of books in need of reshelving and placed the one you just checked in on top. You stared at the cover of the book at the top of your stack and you realized to reshelf this book you would probably have to see Dick... something that you really didn’t want to do.

Suddenly you replayed what happened in your head and embarrassment washed over you yet again. Fiddling with the pile you bit your lip then you shot Jason a look, hesitating slightly before you finally asked.

"Was I obvious and awkward or just an awkward mess?"

He shrugged as he gave you a look of contemplation. Rubbing his face he remarked, "Well I can't really say because I know you have the hots for him."

Your jaw dropped and you swatted at him, your face turning pink. He ducked away from your hand laughing and you glared at him. You cleared your throat and looked around. Standing no more than three feet away was an old lady you knew by the name of Whitney. She was sweet, but she loved to gossip. And you hardly needed your personal drama- well not drama, love life- it wasn’t really even your love life... you hardly needed personal things out and about, being talked about during Thursday’s bridge club.

The only way you could continue your conversation in any privacy was to walk around and reshelf books. Picking the pile up, you paused to slide the book on top to the bottom, before you began walking towards the aisle. Motioning with your head for Jason to follow you.

“Come on,”

You walked to where the new book on top needed to be reshelved, it just so happened to be on the other side of the library to your relief. You slid the book back where it belonged then set your pile on an empty space on the shelf in front of you. Leaning against the shelf behind you, you grabbed at a loose strand of hair that you missed when pulling it up into a messy bun that morning. Twirling the stay strand around your finger you let out a sigh and looked at Jason. You felt as if you had to explain.

It wasn’t just a minor crush you had, not really. After the whole mess with Daniel you were honestly surprised you could like any man that way again. Yet somehow you found yourself feeling that way about Dick, he was nice and funny, and sweet and- you could go on and on. Letting out a sigh you bit your lip again.

"I do not have the hots for him, I- I-." You stumbled to explain exactly what you were feeling.

"You fancy him?" Jason inquired, a smile quirked on his lips as he leaned in.

You laughed slightly, shaking your head, "Have you been reading Jane Austen again?"

"No,” He replied, his smile slowly fading, “what is it about him that you like?"

“Well,” You began hearing your voice crack slightly.

You didn’t really know how to explain it, and trying would only make you feel like a bitch if you didn’t explain it right.

“I don’t really know how to explain it,” You sighed before you unraveled the strand from your finger and put your hands behind your back, “He’s super nice and sweet and funny. He- he’s nice to me but he doesn’t pity me despite knowing about... despite knowing about what happened with Daniel. I know that I find his presence comforting-”

Jason snorted, then remarked, “So comforting that you can’t speak?”

You let out a scoff and shook your head.

“He’s just so....”

“Ridickulos?” Jason laughed as he shook his head, “I’m sorry I had to do that one. If he found out I didn’t he’d never forgive me.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved Jason before studying the bookshelf in front of you.

“Amazing, he’s fun and cool and- I have a hard time talking around him because- because I think I can’t really compare to him. I mean I’m a mess most of the time, barely able to make a coherent sentence without having to repeat it a bajillion times and yet he doesn’t treat me differently. I get so scared that if and I were to become friends he’d find out how weird I actually am and suddenly not want to be friends with me anymore. Worse when I talk I fear that I’ll say something stupid and the same thing with happen. That he’ll never want to talk to me again and my crush will literally end up crushing me. Even though I know that’s not true. He’s- he’s like everything I need.”

You faintly remember a phrase you had said the moment you realized you liked him. It played in your head as you waited for Jason to respond.

All The Man That I Need

It was fairly true, as far as you could tell he was all the man that you needed. But you didn’t exactly fully know him so you couldn’t definitively say if the statement was correct. It’s a good thing however that you hated definites.

“Well, what about the other guy?”

Other guy? You blinked as you realized what exactly Jason was referring to. You had told him that you were spending time with a vigilante, as friends of course. It was strange to think you had befriended Nightwing without really trying at all. Maybe making friends wasn’t as hard for you as you thought... well it didn’t exactly help that you did see him as a friend however he was, for the longest time, your celebrity crush.

Befriending him was a reality check of sorts, he was a hero, but he was also just a guy. A guy who you surprisingly got along well with. However the reality check also made you realize no matter how awesome he was in person there could never be a relationship with him. He was a vigilante and you could never know his identity. That idea got promptly thrown out when you began to find yourself taking solstice in his visits back when you and Daniel were together.

“I thought I told you,” You began with a sigh, “that it would never work out.”

Jason shrugs and pulls a book off of the shelf examining it. He opens the book and looks at you.

“You did, but I thought it couldn’t hurt to keep your options open.”

Rolling your eyes you leaned over to see that in the book he opened characters were reading from William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Jason hums slightly before he closes the book and taps your head with it.

“Reading a lot of Shakespeare recently?” You question instead of protesting, protesting was what he wanted and you were beginning to feel the effects of socializing.

“More or less,” He replied, reshelving the book.

He turned fully to you and a light appeared in his eyes. Jason got a devilish look on his face and you suddenly began to fear what was going to happen next.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

You narrowed your own eyes and shook your head. To many possibilities for what could go wrong, better not, "I’d rather you didn't."

Jason leaned in, his eyes glittering as if he had a plan formulating in his head and in your experience Jason’s plans never went well. However before you could reaffirm your decision he commented, “Might make him jealous."

You blinked a few times, the idea seemed interesting. It was tempting as hell until the little voices, the negative Nancy’s as your mother used to call them, began to speak up.

As if he’d ever be jealous over you

He has to like you in the first place, he probably thinks you’re a freaky weirdo.

You swallowed trying to not let the harsh thoughts hurt as much as they actually did. Shaking your head you shot Jason a grateful smile.

"No, it's okay,” You paused as an idea popped into your head, “But I could compare you to a summer's day."

Surprise was frozen on his face for half a second before he snorted and rolled his eyes. He gave you a look before replying, "Eh, well I don't think it is accurate."

".... You could compare him to a summer's day." You said before you could think it through.

Without even missing a beat Jason replied, "Or you could,"

No, you couldn’t. If you tried, even though he wasn’t actually there, you’d probably combust due to embarrassment and it would be just your luck if he just so happened to be walking up as you did it. Anyways you weren’t very good with sonnets. Poetry and rhymes were a bit easier but regardless it just wasn’t your thing.

"I’ve never really been one for sonnets, Besides it'd be more accurate if you did it." You informed him with a shrug.

"Of course it would."

His words were a bit sharp, as if something was bothering him. You decided to ignore it considering that it wasn’t really your business. However what he said was a challenge in itself. He was basically saying you were chickening out. He wasn’t wrong but he had no right to call you on it.

"Are you implying what I think you are?" You asked, trying to keep your tone light.

“Probably.” He shrugged, smiling that devilish, his voice softer than before.

Narrowing your eyes you crossed your arms and remarked, “For the sake of this friendship, I’m going to disregard that comment.”

His eyes lit up once again and you realized you gave him what he wanted, while you didn’t know what it was for you did know what it was. An opening.

“And for the sake of this friendship I am going to compare you to a summer’s day.”

This was probably going to be the funniest or dirtiest thing you heard this week, and you honestly didn’t mind. You were getting exhausted and needed a good laugh. As they always say, laughter is the best medicine.

“Oh no,” You replied, pretending to tremble while weakly laughing.

Ignoring your comment, he held his arms out towards you before he dramatically declared, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

Without hesitation you deadpanned, “No,”

He shot you a glare, taking a step forwards before getting the dramatic look on his face again, gazing past you he took in a breath.

“Thou art more hot and more smelly.”

You laughed slightly before he shot you a chastising look and continued,

“Rough farts do shake the tiny arm hairs of me,”

Giggles began to build up your throat, but you pushed them back as Jason waved his hands around the air almost as if he was trying to swat a fly.

He took in a breath and looked directly at you, “And summer’s air hath all to gross a smell,”

Pressing a hand to your face you shove back your laughter and you nod at him a few times. His face is frozen, his hands hanging limply at his sides and you realize he’s stuck. Shaking your head you wait a moment when an idea for the next line pops into your head.

“Sometime too wet the back of my neck shines?”

His face lights up and he smiles at you before remarking, “Oooo good one.”

Slipping back into the dramatic, Shakespearean crack actor he holds his hands out again. Forming his face into what you can only assume is a regal expression he continues,

“Sometime too wet the back of my neck shines.... and often is it’s slick complexion....”

He paused for another moment and began snapping his fingers as if the word was on the tip of his tongue.

“Dried.” You piped up nearly biting back laughter.

Pointing a finger at you he exclaims, “Yes!”

Jumping back once again into the persona he shoots you a wink out of the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes as giggles escape you.

“And often is it’s slick complexion dried. And every fly from fly sometime declines.”

You give him a look, laughter fighting to be released before shaking your head and shaking your hands.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Jason swats at you not breaking his gaze, he had locked in on something behind you and you hoped it wasn’t a person, “Hush, I’m not done.”

You snorted and then let out a cough to try and subdue the oncoming barrels of laughter that were threatening to explode from you.

“By swat or by swatter’s shrieking ass stumbling.”

That was the last straw, giggles, cackles and chortles escaped from you and you pressed your hand to the shelf behind you to stay standing.

“Oh my fucking gosh- stop- please.” You wheezed in-between your laughter.

Jason gave you a look and you tried to stop yourself from cackling.

He waited until you had quieted down a bit to ask, “Should I do the next line?”

“NO! NO, I can’t take- I couldn’t make it through another.” You exclaimed shaking your head.

Letting out a sigh Jason shot you a look that looked a little bit to much like pout for you to take seriously.

“Can I at least say the best lines?”

“You’ve thought that far ahead?”

“Yes,”

Giggling slightly you sighed then nodded, “Fine.”

Slipping back into the Shakespearean actor persona he held his hand out almost exactly mimicking the classic Hamlet pose. The mere action of him going back into the act had you giggling again. He opened his mouth, covering your own with your hand to stop yourself from interrupting him anymore; you let out a slight snort. He stepped forwards and you pressed yourself against the shelves to get a better view of him.

“When in eternal thighs to highs thou grow’st.”

A mixture between a wheeze and squeak escapes you and you have to squeeze your hand over your mouth and nose to stop yourself from cackling again. From where you stood, you could see Jason’s eyes glowing almost as if he found this amusing as you found the new sonnet funny.

“So long as men can’t breathe,” He remarked, “or bi’s can’t pee.”

Another hybrid of a sound escaped you and you could see his shoulders shaking. He straightened himself out and began to finish,

“So long lives the bitch that gives fuck’s not to thee-”

You couldn’t help yourself, it wasn’t like the other lines where it practically mirrored the syllables of the original line, the new last line was a mess.

“That’s not rig-” You protested as you fought off a grin.

Suddenly his hand was covering your mouth and you gave him a shocked look that momentarily stopped your laughter. After the shock left the laughter returned in ten-fold. Giggles escape you and you tried your hardest not to meet his gaze however you couldn’t help yourself, looking Jason in the eyes you saw how serious he was and you giggled even more. He removed his hand and you bit your lip to stop yourself from snorting again, it was the laugh of yours you hated the most, made you feel a little too much like a pig.

Jason looked beside you and you were thankful, though he could be an ass sometimes he was nice enough to try and help prevent your anxiety or at least make it less intense. Your body began to shake as you fought off any and all laughter. You needed him to get through all of it so he wouldn’t repeat it. Covering your mouth with both hands you pressed against the shelves and squeezed your eyes shut

“As I was saying,” He remarked, “So long lives the bitch that gives fuck’s not to thee... and scene.”

Peeking an eye open you find Jason bowing and you lose it, your hands barely make it away from your face before you explode into a fit of snorts that don’t seem to stop. Your body begins to bend and you begin caving in on yourself, letting your head hang down you continue to laugh and snort. Rising back up you press a hand to your chest in a hope to make the laughter stop but it is in vain. You felt your cheeks flushing and your blood rushing to your face as you tried to quiet down.

Jason smiled and you took a breath before giggling relentlessly. Shaking your head you realized despite how funny it was you did have some critiques.

“Can you say that stuff about bi’s?” You asked your breath nearly hiccupping as you snickered.

He shrugged before pressing a hand to the bookshelf right by your head and winking, “I am bi so I can say whatever the hell I want.”

“All-righty then, kiddo.” You nodded snorting as you moved your hand from your chest.

Suddenly someone walks up however they speak before you can turn, “Hey guys, what you talking about?”

Something about the tone was off to you, you didn’t know exactly what but you knew that whoever the person was, they weren’t happy.

Simultaneously both you and Jason say, “Nothing.”

Giggling again you smile at Jason and look over to find Damian and Dick. Usually panic would flood you and slowly it was, however you still had laughter floating around your chest and it was slowly escaping you like a leaky faucet.

Damian narrowed his eyes, “You were talking about me weren’t you?”

For a moment you were confused until you blinked, realizing that he thought the two of you were laughing at him. Thinking for half a moment about what you were doing made more laughter push through. However it’s not only normal laughter but scared laughter. It was something you noticed in the middle of your junior year, when in moments of high fear or panic where you didn’t know what to do, you laughed.

“N-no.,” You tried to start, but upon seeing Damian’s upset face terrified giggles stopped you, “we- we weren’t talk-talking about you.”

Jason cleared his throat and you had flashbacks to when he was beginning the sonnet, a snort bubbled from you. It was loud and very pig-like causing your entire face to turn a brighter red than it already was.

"We might be,” Jason said, “whatch-ya gonna do about it pipsqueak?"

The tone he had made the laughter begin to die in your chest, you knew that Jason and Damian didn’t get along well most of the time. You just didn’t know why, some days they seemed fairly close other days it seemed like they would rip each other’s throats out.

"I'll make you stop Todd." Damian seethed and your laughter vanished with one last hybrid squeaking snort.

Moving away from you, Jason took a few steps towards Damian, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I'd like to see you try gremlin."

"Stop calling me names Todd."

Jason laughed and looked back at you, you shot him a warning look but he ignored you, "Or what short-stack? You gonna bite my ankles?"

"Jason-" Dick began when Damian interrupted him with a snarl.

"Go on, keep calling me names, see what happens."

The two boys were closer now, a mere three feet away from each other. Without even thinking it through you stepped in between them and raised your hands as if to push both of them away from each other. Shooting them both a reprimanding glare you watched as the fight died from both of them pretty quickly.

Sighing in relief you lowered your hands and nodded before noting the stack of books that needed to be reshelved on the shelf almost gathering dust.

“Alright boys, behave now. I’m going to go and reshelf the rest of these books. When I return I expect the two of you to be getting along, or else.” You remarked moving towards the books.

Jason stepped out of your way and seemed to understand the entirety of your threat, Damian on the other hand didn't.

“Or else what?” He asked his eyes narrowed

Picking up the books you turned back to him and raised an eyebrow, “Do you really want to know?”

His shoulders sank down and Damian fully backed down. He looked away form you and you nodded satisfied. Turning you left to go reshelf the books. You got down to the last one when a young girl stopped you.

She looked up at you with big eyes and asked, “Do you have any books I could read?”

You stared at her sweet face for a moment before pulling a book off of the shelf and handing it to her. She took the book with a bright smile on her face and she turned and left. Staring at the last book in your hand you slid it back where it belonged and spun around.

Instead of finding a bunch of shelves you found Dick standing behind you, internally you screamed and you felt your eyes widen instinctively. He smiled and leaned in towards you.

"Have any recommendations for me?" He asked

Panic washed over you and it was suddenly hard to breathe, you loved to recommend books but him asking was like someone asking to see your diary.

Fumbling for words you replied, "Uh-I- uh well- what. do. you. like?

It was then that you realized Dick was here with you, which meant that the boys were left alone. Alone and unattended, while of course that could be a good thing. It also meant that they could trash the library, Jason could tell Damian about your crush, the small boy had a habit of blurting out things he found not secret keeping worthy!

Giving Dick a worried look you stepped forwards and rushed to ask him, if he did in fact leave them alone,

"watdidyaeveemown?"

“I’m sorry what?” He gave you a very confused look.

“Did you leave them alone?!” You nearly shrieked as panic overtook your body.

“Uh yeah.”

“SHIT.”

Turning you ran down two aisles back to where Damian and Jason were. Surprisingly instead of finding them in an all out battle you found them cackling.

"You- you are amazing. And so fucking dense." Jason breathed out in between his laughter.

"What?" You asked completely and totally surprised as the panic began to slip away from you.

"Nothing, nothing at all Y/N." He sighed wiping imaginary tears.

You were astonished and confused, how could they do that? Go from being at each others throats ready for blood to buddies in less then ten minutes? Shaking your head you let out a sigh and went to turn around when you spotted Dick in the corner of your eye. You then remembered he asked for a recommendation and were thankful you had an excuse to run away.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to recommend a book but more as it was hard to think straight around him. Your brain turned to mush and it was hard for you to bring any good books to mind. Looking at the shelf across form you, you spotted an old favorite of yours. Throughout all of high school it was your comfort book and it might just be the perfect book for him.

Yanking it off the shelf you turned and held it out to him. He took it from you smiling slightly as though he was extremely confused but wanted to be polite.

“What’s this for?” He asked

“Gookbood.” You mumbled out after you accidentally met his gaze.

You were stuck, of course you had the option to look away, however if you did you’d only feel even more embarrassed, if you kept looking however.. let’s just say you think it’d be bad for your health.

“What?” Dick asked leaning forwards clearly trying to hear you better.

“Bokgood-” You began before you realized you messed up only to try again, “Ookkbod.”

Slamming your eyes shut you clenched your fists and nearly yelled, “GOOD BOOK.”

With that you kept your eyes closed and turned walking away as Damian and Jason cackle at you. Probably at your inability to even form coherent sentences. Instead of heading back towards your desk you moved past it into the backroom, gathering your things as fast as you could you headed towards the front desk. Upon seeing you, Marian, the head library gave you a worried look.

“Everything alright Y/N?”

“Uh, yeah I’m just gonna end my shift early.”

“You’re shift has been over for an hour dear... though you usually stay till closing...” Her tone told you that she was worried.

Closing your eyes again you winced but then you heard Marian sigh and you peeked an eye open seeing her typing something in her computer.

“If any one asks...” You began before wincing again as the thoughts hit you.

As if they would

“If anyone asks, I’m not feeling well. Alright?”

Marian nodded a small smile on her face as she looked at something in one of the aisles, "Go on Y/N, have a good weekend. I’ll see you again on Monday.”

She waved you along and you hurried out the door. Before you could even make it to the parking lot you spotted one of the libraries regulars. Mira, was a few years younger then you and very excited about books. Unknown to her and probably himself, Jason had taken a shining to her.

Upon seeing you her eyes lit up and she hurried over to you. Smiling brightly Mira enthusiastically greeted you.

“Hi, Y/N. I know you’re probably about to head home but I just wanted to tell you I loved the book you recommended and say hi.”

Her face was it’s natural pink and she seemed to realized how much you were freaking out. Her smile slid from her face and she reached out a hand as if to try and comfort you before she put it back down.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t exactly know what to say. While Mira was a constant and almost as close a friend to you as Jason was, you couldn’t exactly tell her what was going on.

With a weary sigh you turned back towards the doors to see Dick, Jason and Damian walking out them. Even more panic raced over you as they spotted you and Mira.

Mira hummed slightly before patting your arm and turning towards the boys, they began to approach. They were only a couple of a feet away when Mira stopped them.

“Hi,” She said grinning brightly, “I’m Mirabilis Cadman, but everyone calls me Mira. It’s nice to meet you.”

You watched for a moment as Dick hesitated, Damian gave Mira a scrutinizing look and Jason, well Jason seemed to be completely unaffected however you knew better. Mira held her hand out to Dick and he shook it.

“Hey, I’m Dick Grayson. This is my little brother Damian. Pleasure to meet you.” He replied smiling

For a moment a strange look crossed Mira’s face her smile faltering then she blinked and looked to Damian for a moment. Then she noted the book he was carrying. Smiling again she also held her hand out to him.

Shooting him a wink she remarked, “Good choice, glad to see one of you has taste.”

It was then that you remembered how one night after Mira had volunteered to help you clean up the library after a long day of elementary school classes coming in you had told her of your crush on Dick Grayson and how it seemed that, at the time he was ignoring you.

Fuck

Meanwhile Jason was trying to hide cackles behind coughs. Hitting his chest twice he gives Mira a amused look before he held his hand out to her. Once she took it he said,

“Sup, Jason, Jason Todd.”

Mira blinked twice, confusion was clear on her face for a moment before she shrugged and let go of his hand. Looking away from the two of them you noticed how Dick was staring at you.

Shit.

Mira eventually caught his line of sight and you watched as her eyes widened slightly. She kept the smile on her face though. Dick gestured to you and began to speak, “We need Y/N, she is just-”

“She isn’t feeling well,” Mira explained and you noted the hand behind her back waving for some reason, “But, I’d be happy to help you out in anyway I can. I know this library like the back of my hand. I spend a lot of time here... maybe too much time.”

You watched as she continued to wave and realized she was signaling you to leave. She was helping with your get away. As you hurried towards the parking lot and your car you know one thing for sure. You owed her big-time.

It didn’t take you long to get to your car, as you fumbled with your keys you came to a realization.

You recommended him, Dick Grayson, a book. He frequently came to the library and sometimes tried to talk to you. He would want to talk to you about the book. Which meant the possibility of embarrassing yourself in front of him again, and no Mira to save you.

Fucking shit

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Insomnia was a bitch, but it wasn’t just anyone’s bitch it was anxiety’s bitch... then again so were you.

It was probably close to three a.m. when you decided you were hungry and climbed out of your very warm bed to wander into the kitchen. Unfortunately flies had beat you there, while there was only two or three, but they annoyed the hell out of you. Picking up the fly swatter you spotted a fly a few feet away from you and you lunged forwards swinging your arms and legs. You slapped at the fly and successfully hit it. Pretending to bow to a cheering crowd you mouthed ‘thank you, thank you.’

Standing up straight you held your fly swatter like a blade and a thought popped into your head.

Ninja, fly ninja, you are the fly ninja.

Jumping around as you let out soft hi-yah’s and other ninja noises you tried and failed to hit the two flies. Creeping up on one of the flies you swung the flyswatter out and smacked it into the wall. Jumping and doing a side kick you remarked,

“Hoi-yah! Take that fly! No one can best me. Because I’m The fly ninja.”

It was then you heard the chuckling. Blinking you turned and found standing in your kitchen in his blue and black glory, your friend, Nightwing. The thoughts slammed into you as you found yourself stumbling back towards your couch.

He just saw you looking like a fucking idiot, you are never going to live this one down

However instead of freaking out, when you saw the incredibly amused look on his face you found yourself irritated. You froze for just a moment before you grabbed a pillow and chucked it at him. He dodged it with a laugh.

“Wouldn't ninja fly be better.... wait no that's a fly who is a ninja,” he mused while laughing and dodging yet another pillow you threw.

He thinks your weird, he’s probably laughing at yo-

“You,” Nightwing said, yanking you out of the thoughts, “have the worst taste in cereal.”

Blinking you found him standing in front of one of your cupboards, crossing your arms you gave him a look and he closed the cupboard. Turning towards you he leaned against the counter with one hand, effectively blocking your way into the kitchen.

“Just to let you know.”

Rolling your eyes you snorted, then pushed past him to get into your kitchen. Yanking a cup from your cupboard you walk over to the electric kettle and fill it with water before turning it on and placing the mug next to it.

"You,” You began as you walked back out of the kitchen, ”break into people's apartments in the middle of the night, what right do you have to judge my cereal?"

He snorted and rested his elbows on your counter. Behind him Red Robin slipped into your kitchen and began raiding your cabinets for coffee, which as of late, was normal.

“True, but do I really deserve such scorn from the fly ninja?”

Behind Nightwing you see Red Robin pause and turn towards you. He mouths ‘fly ninja?’ tilting his head in confusion. Biting your lip to hold back laughter you smiled and then shrugged. He nodded and turned back to raiding your cabinets.

Looking at Nightwing you raised an eyebrow and then rested your elbows on your counter before placing your face in your hands.

“You broke into my apartment, startled me. Insulted my ninja abilities and then you insulted my cereal choices. So yes, I do believe you deserve my scorn.”

Nightwing held up a hand in disagreement as he shook his head. Behind him the electric kettle steamed then clicked off, “I did not insult your ninja skills. I- I was admiring them.”

Narrowing your eyes you fought off a grin as you replied, “So you say.”

Usually you would be worried saying stuff like this to even the closest of your friends, however, despite your sometimes snarky remarks and extreme weirdness Nightwing continued to come and visit you. Which told you that it didn’t matter how weird or much yourself you were he wouldn’t leave... or at least you hopped so.

Taking on a playful tone he remarked, "Well someone's grumpy."

Holding up a hand you waved it at him as Red Robin grabbed a mug and began pouring the water into it, the instant coffee right next to him.

"Listen- listen I haven't had my tea yet."

Nightwing blinked once and then he pushed off of the counter and he laughed slightly. It took you a minute to realize he was confused and a little nervous.

“You don't drink coffee?"

"Caffeine and I don't get along." You said with a shrug.

This only seemed to confuse him more, he shook his head and looked at you slightly astonished before he asked, “Then why do you have so much of it?”

Smiling, you met his gaze and pointed behind him, “Turn around.”

Turning he looked and saw Red Robin stirring a cup of coffee. He paused and watched with you as Red Robin pulled a small energy drink from his belt and he poured it into the cup. Nightwing walks over to him and picks up the mug from his body language; it looked as if he was giving Red Robin a scolding look.

"You know this is probably gonna kill you right?"

Red Robin shrugs and replies, "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

A giggle escaped you and both Nightwing and Red Robin turned towards you. You cleared your throat as Nightwing smiled and Red Robin looked at the two of you. A strange expression passed his face before he shook his head and headed for the fire escape.

“You owe me a new mug.” You remarked pointing a finger at him.

Nightwing looked startled then he gestured to the fire escape exclaiming, “No, he does.”

You shrugged as you headed into the kitchen “He’s your underling.”

“Red Robin is not my underling.”

Though you couldn’t see him you could hear his tone. He sounded offended and a little upset. From this you could tell that he respected or at least had a lot of respect for Red Robin.

A memory tickles the back of your mind, someone calling Red Robin little bird. You didn’t exactly remember who but your bet was on Nightwing.

“Fine, he’s your little bird. Isn’t that what you call him?” You remarked with a shrug.

“no.”

You blinked a few times and sighed, “Oh, well anyways he’s still a kid and if he drinks that much coffee I doubt he could actually get me a new mug. I mean he literally has to steal coffee from here... maybe I should get disposable cups.”

A surprised look crossed his face, “Wait, he does this often?”

“Yeah, but usually he drinks all of the coffee and leaves the mug.”

Nightwing hums and he nods as if was contemplating something. Maybe it was why Red Robin did what he did or maybe it was something else.

“Huh, he must like you if he keeps coming back.”

Letting out a snort you nodded before sarcastically remarking, “Or he likes the coffee.”

Not understanding you were using sarcasm, Nightwing shook his head, a fairly serious look on his face, “It’s instant coffee I doubt it can be that good... It’s a high honor to be liked by Red Robin.”

“Sure it is...” You rolled your eyes not fully believing him, before you could stop yourself you said, “no one likes me, or at least they shouldn’t”

"Well I like you."

You blinked and looked over to him, he was giving you an innocent look and you blinked again. You couldn’t have heard what you just did right? People wouldn’t tell someone- they wouldn’t tell you they liked you to your face... right?

"Wait, did you just say what I think you said?"

A smile appeared on his face and he nodded slowly, “Yes, I did in fact say that I like you."

He likes you, he just said so, and repeated what he said. So, he must really mean it, truly mean it. Before you were going about in unknowing and now the reality of everything hit you.

Of course you were aware people who were your friends liked you, but no one had really ever said it to your face. You were shocked and a little embarrassed.

"Oh."

A sly grin appeared on Nightwing’s face and he leaned in towards you continuing, “You are the fly ninja after all.”

"Oh my gosh.” You replied as you shoved your face into your hands trying your hardest not to laugh.

“By the way I’ve been meaning to ask you the fly ninja to all flies or just certain ones?”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head as laughter bubbled up in your lungs. Nightwing ignored your attempts at withholding giggles and continued.

“Like is it only fruit flies and the ones that hover around bananas or?”

Biting your lip you pulled away from your hands your face red, forcing the laughter back you looked him dead in the eyes and replied, “All flies obviously, I’m not discriminatory.”

He smiled and laughed. Silence cleaved the air and you felt nervous tension arise in you.

Quickly clambering for a topic to talk about you asked, “What were we talking about again?”

“About how I find you very a-peeling.”

You hesitated for a moment before giving him a disbelieving look. You shook your head, “... did you just- no. I’m not gonna, no.”

Pretending it never happened, you look away from him and move towards your couch leaning against it you let out a sigh.

“Read any good books lately.” Nightwing asks from your kitchen, a clatter of sorts following him, most likely he was raiding your cabinets as well.

“Of course,” You sighed, working as a librarian meant that you always had a good book, “What about you?”

Almost chuckling he replies, “Well I’m reading a book about anti-gravity... It’s impossible to put down.”

“That’s terrible.” You smiled, shaking your head trying not to laugh as well.

“Oh I know.” He laughed.

With a sigh you looked over your shoulder momentarily to see him looking into one of your cabinets. Not wanting things to go silent you decided to ask a safe question that will continue the conversation at least for a little while.

“How was your day?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” He began and something in his tone made you narrow your eyes, “Somebody stole all of my lamps. I couldn’t be more de-lighted. And this morning I wanted to take pictures of the fog but I mist my chance. I guess I could dew it tomorrow.”

Biting back laughter you turned away from him, placing your face into your hands, “Stop. These puns are too cheesy.”

“But I thought they were gouda.”

You froze rolling your eyes as a slight snort escaped you, “Dude.”

“It’s cheddar if you don’t get mad.” He continued.

Shaking your head again you closed your eyes trying your hardest to tune him out before you burst into a fit of laughter once again.

“I swiss you had the same humor as me. I won’t provolone this anymore. After all, I havarti taken this too far.” Nightwing snorted laughing as he made pun after pun.

“Oh ma gosh.”

Looking towards the ceiling you fought off a grin and the laughter, the tired laughter that was building up in your chest.

“I colby a better parmesan and stop all these cheesy pins but I ricotta continue.”

Before you could stop yourself laughter escaped you as you turned towards him again to see him looking at you with a mischievous smile on his face. You laugh a little harder and his smile widens, “Brie the way, how was your day today? I saga know.”

Letting out a snort, you smiled at him and decided to try a pun yourself, “That wasn’t very puny.”

For a moment a look of surprise crossed his face before a grin broke out across it and you felt your heart do a strange little fluttering jump.

Shaking his head he laughed, remarking, “Oh! That’s terrible, I love it.”

Your heart did an even bigger fluttering jump and you looked away from him. You didn’t exactly like what was happening. But you knew. Trying to change the subject before your heart fluttered again you moved around the arm of the couch and sat down.

“How was your day actually though?”

“Eh.”

You froze for a moment, it was a rare occasion in which Nightwing only said one worded replies. Usually it meant there was something he didn’t want to talk about or something he really wanted to vent about or ask advice about.

Not even turning towards him you stuck your hands under your legs and swung them slightly.

“Eh? Why eh?”

There was a pause, almost as if he was hesitant to reply, but then after a breath and silence filling the room making it slightly awkward he replied, “Girl troubles.”

This didn't really surprise you. Girl troubles were common amongst your guy friends, and since you were one of the very few girls who they didn’t ever plan on dating you were used to giving advice. However a strange sort of ache began in your chest and you felt hurt.

Just a friend, The thoughts whisper almost menacingly, he just sees you as a friend.

Ignoring the ache and the vile thoughts nipping at the back of your mind you raised an eyebrow and turned over your shoulder smiling playfully at him.

“Oooo do you like someone, as a civilian?... Wait, no, you like a civilian.” You corrected yourself, blinking a few times as you finally began to feel tired.

Instead of a reply, at first you hear the door to one of your cabinets open with a loud squeak. A rustling for a moment then the cabinet creaking closed. He was stealing your food. A soft smile and feeling appeared and you brought your legs up to your chest. Placing your chin on the dip in between your knees you sighed.

Honestly you didn’t mind but, it frustrated you a little though, that you were always going to be the best friend never the girl boys fell for. You were for friendship, not dating. Something you were beginning to wish you realized just a little bit earlier, maybe this would then all be easier.

“Yes,” Nightwing finally replied, “and it was just so frustrating because it seems like she hates me and likes my brother.”

You blinked and for a moment you thought about looking towards him, but you knew if he did he’d realize what he said. You had to approach this carefully, wrapping your arms around your legs you hum slightly before asking somewhat casually,

“Oh wait, you have a brother?”

“Ye-,” You practically see him nodding before he stopped himself.

Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to push your luck just a bit .

“It's one of the vigilantes isn’t it.”

Silence followed your question and you looked over to see him giving you a look. A look that said to stop talking, not to press further because you were hitting the nail on the head.

A smile of disbelief appeared on your face and you pulled away from your legs, eyes wide.

“Oh my gosh they are all your siblings aren’t they? But obviously they’re adopted. I know Signal’s black, I’m ninety-nine percent sure there was a blonde batgirl and a red-head, Blue Bird literally doesn’t look like any of you, and no one is able to see Black Bat’s face. Oh and don’t get me started on the Robin brigade.”

As you began rambling your hands flew around your face in a flurry of motion. The vigilantes were one of your favorite non-book things to talk about. Mainly because of the one in your kitchen but you really weren’t going to ever get into that... hopefully.

“You’re not wrong, “He sighed before pausing, “...Robin brigade?”

“I’m not getting into it.” You shook your head turning back away from him.

You weren’t about to tell him how ever since the first Robin came into play you like the vigilantes. Not about your opinions and theories, especially not when a lot of them were about him. Waving away the question you decided to change the subject.

“Anyways back to your girl problems. Why do you think she hates you?”

You could hear him munching on something as he probably contemplated how to explain the problem to you, “Well she never talks to me willingly, and when she does she always mutters or ends up sounding really angry.”

Twirling a strand of hair around your finger, you thought for a moment about what he said. It sounded a lot like what happens to you. Maybe this girl that he likes, also has anxiety and likes him, or it might just be because he makes her nervous.

“She might just like you dumbass,” You snorted, rolling your eyes, “I know that’s how it is for me. I mean with the guy I like-, I can’t even say one word without messing it up. So I have to slow it down. ”

You heard more munching and the crinkling of a bag before he mused, “Hmm, you think so?”

“Yeah, or you just make her really nervous.”

It was more than likely, for you it was both which only made matters more complicated and frustrating. Sometimes you wished you were normal, then this wouldn’t be a problem at all.

“Makes sense... by the way do you think if you practiced you could talk to him?”

Practice? You had tried practicing in the past, but whenever you tried to talk to him your anxiety took hold of your mouth and you spat out a word jumble instead of what you really wanted to say.

“Probably not, my anxiety always freaks me out telling me that I’m gonna say the wrong thing and scare him away because I’m too weird or something.”

He walked passed you into the living room before flopping down on your couch. You notice the bad and his hands and for the moment you decided to ignore it.

“Well just think about it this way, you’re super cool and awesome. And if he can’t see that he doesn’t deserve you.”

You paused for a moment. and looked over at him in slight disbelief, “You think I’m cool?”

“The coolest.” He replied smiling at you.

It was then that you noticed the bag he had was your Cheetos. While you didn’t mind, at the moment you felt... awkward. Standing up you walked over towards him and flopped down next to him. You needed someway to feel less awkward without sounding like a bitch... then you got an idea

“Aww, that's sweet...” You began turning towards him with a smile, “but if you take my fucking Cheetos again we’re through.”

For a moment you think you’ve made things worse until Nightwing bursts into laughter. Shaking his head he sighed and passed the bag over to you, with the bag now in your hands you looked over to him and took a moment to think over what he said.

You’re super cool and awesome. And if he can’t see that he doesn’t deserve you

Sighing you sat down next to him and rested your head on his shoulder, pulling a small handful you ate some Cheetos then offered them to him. He began taking some.

Was he telling the truth? Or just trying to make you feel better by saying that. Not knowing which was correct you felt you had to ask him.

“Do you really think that he wouldn’t deserve me if I make a fool of myself?” You asked as you felt him wrap an arm around your shoulder.

You heard him hesitate before you looked up to see him giving you a contemplating look.

“If you make a fool of yourself he should be saying something like... like. I think- I think I might just love you a little bit.”

Snorting you rolled your eyes, looked away and remarked without thinking, “Sure he should because unintelligible gibberish is the way to a man’s heart.”

“If he’s worth shit he’ll think it’s cute. I know I do.”

You knew he was flirting with you, you knew because it was something he did regularly. Something that was common with his personality. He constantly, he was never serious of course, that much you knew. So when you looked up at him slightly snorting to see him staring at you a soft and serious look on his face your heart did the fluttery jump and your stomach flipped.

Fucking shit

Looking away from him you felt your cheeks beginning to flush red. He was nice, he helped you feel a little less like an asshole, less like a bitch, more like a person. A good person. He made you feel cared for... and- and loved. He was amazing and a lot like All the man you’ll ever need-

Wait, no. No. It couldn’t be like that- no. He was hero- a vigilante. You would never be able to know his real identity. You wouldn’t ever actually able to be with him. No matter what your heart felt, no matter how spilt it was you couldn’t even entertain the thought.

His voice yanked you from your spiraling train of thought and you blinked. Giving you a soft smile he asked the question again.

“How was your day?”

Happy to not have to think about your feelings again you raised your head off of his shoulder and turned to him. Fully prepared to rant and bare your soul.

“Rough, honestly I made a complete and utter fucking fool of myself. I mean I panicked so much and I laughed, I full on laughed out loud. Cackled even, at the library. I never do that, and to make matters worse my crush, he asked for a book recommendation and I realized that he left his brothers, the two most chaotic people I know alone with each other and I panicked.”

You were talking quickly, shaking your head as the words stumbled from you, embarrassment following it. For a moment Nightwing was nodding as if he understood when suddenly he sat up straight, looking at you slightly confused.

“Wait, wait. What happened?” He asked an eyebrow raised.

“Well he asked me for a book recommendation and I realized that he left his brothers alone and I panicked and cursed at him before running back to make sure they weren’t trashing the library.” You explained again waving your hands about yawning afterwards.

He blinked twice then gave you a shocked look for a moment, “Your crush? Wait, he asked for a book recommendation?”

“Yeah! And then I realized that his brothers-”

Before you could finish he interrupted you a strange look on his face, “Did he say anything else?”

Blinking in confusion you raised an eyebrow thinking over what he said, then you shook your head, “What? Oh uh no I don’t think so.”

“Hmm,” He hummed slightly a smile on his face before he relaxed back onto the couch, “okay.”

Feeling confused and a little worried, you wanted to talk about how he was acting weird but didn’t know how. So you decided to continue talking about your day.

“Well after seriously embarrassing myself by going that I fumbled over my words while trying to give him a book. Then I decided to flee so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. I was like five minute away from leaving when a regular- Mira- I’ve talked about her before. Well she came and started talking to me, I swear that give has like a sixth sense because she instantly knew I was freaking out and was able to help me avoid my crush and his brothers... speaking of brothers. I’m like ninety-nine percent sure one of them likes her, or at least is interested.”

Nightwing was smiling and he had an amused look on his face as if something was very interesting. Chuckling he looked to you seeing the confusion on your face he sighed before nodding.

“Interesting...sorry but somethings on my mind. When you start to have an anxiety attack or think about something can you accidentally tune stuff out?” He asked eyebrows raised

You blinked a few times before nodding and leaning against the couch once again.

“Oh, uh yeah. Sometimes I’m spiraling into an anxiety attack or anxious thoughts I accidentally tune people out... well what happens is that the thoughts overpower my ears.” You nodded with another yawn.

He nodded and gave you a strange sort of look, you were having a hard time focusing, blinking you kept your eyes open. Rubbing at your eyes you sighed.

“Tell me about your brother’s fuck ups on patrol, I need a good laugh.” You muttered as you held back a yawn.

“Okay then,” He replied laughing slightly.

Leaning against his shoulder again you grunted slightly. After your long day you were finally feeling tired, tired and safe. Nightwing was saying something to you, but you were having a hard time paying attention. Your eyes kept fluttering shut and before you knew it you were asleep.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

A few days later, you were in the library at your desk going about your daily routine when you spotted Jason in an aisle of book inspecting the pages of a heavy chapter book. Before you could spot any of the other Wayne boys Mira appeared in your peripheral vision a book in her hand and a smile on her face.

“Okay, before you stop me I just want to say this book is amazing and when you have the time I want to talk to you about it because I need to talk to someone. All the people in my apartment complex are like fifty and above, married or five and under.” She paused for a moment a look of realization crossing her face, “Of course married people aren’t hard to talk to it’s just they don’t want to talk to me and I’m rambling sorry.”

You almost laughed, Mira seemed flustered, something you hadn’t seen ever. The ends of her hair were peeking out of her black hat in an array of different shades of purple. With flushed cheeks and her hazel eyes wide, Mira looked like something was bugging her.

Leaning on the counter you let out a sigh, but noticed Jason approach towards your desk. A sly smile of sorts appeared on your face. If Jason was in fact interested in Mira a little push wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Unfortunately,” You began with a heavy sigh, “I don’t think I’ll be able to talk for a while... however, I’m sure Jason wouldn’t mind talking to you about it. He was actually the one who got me on the book.”

You gestured to Jason now stood behind Mira. For a moment, Mira froze before turning around, a tight smile on her face. She shot you a slight look of panic before she let out a breath and nodded.

“Uh, if your willing.”

Jason smiled at her and nodded. She nodded as well before giving you a quick wave goodbye. Watching them go you noticed how Mira stopped in an aisle still in your eye-line and sat down on the ground. Without even questioning it, Jason sat across from her.

The library was quiet enough that you didn’t really need to strain yourself to hear what the two of them were saying. You watched as Mira opened the book, hearing Jason say,

“So about the other night-”

Before he could even finish Mira interrupted him her cheeks and ears flushing a dark shade of red, “I’d prefer not to talk about it please.”

Nodding Jason let out a slight sigh before replying, “Alright.”

You were curious on what exactly had happened between the two of them, but before you could give another thought to it Damian walked up a stack of books in his arms. Raising an eyebrow you gave him a look,

“Starting a project of sorts?” You questioned as you began to check the books out to him.

Damian let out a slight huff before he nodded, “Father said I couldn’t get another pet until I know how to properly take care of it.”

You paused for a moment to look at the books, they were non-fiction books about a variety of different animals. Spanning from monkeys all the way to squirrels. Shaking your head you bit back a laugh as you imagined Bruce Wayne’s face when Damian brought in all the animals.

“Hmm, I think there might be some more books about animal care in aisle five.” You remarked off handedly noting the gleam in Damian’s eye.

“Really now?”

You nodded as you began to set the books to the side, pointing you showed him which aisle you were talking about.

“I can hold your books to the side while you go and grab some more, I mean you’ve got to cover all the bases right?”

While usually language like this would cause Damian to give you a look of distain, he bee-lined straight for the aisle. You laughed and turned to watch him when you spotted a guy standing right next to Mira and Jason.

“Are you here for me or him?” Mira asked not even looking up from her book.

The guy blinked and a extremely confused look crossed his face. He gave Mira a baffled look as he said, “Why would I be here for him?”

A mischievous smile appeared on her face for just a second before she looked up at him, shock all over her face.

“Why the hell wouldn’t you be here for him?” She exclaimed gesturing towards Jason, “Have you seen him? He’s fucking gorgeous!”

You had to shove your fist against your mouth to stop from bursting into laughter. You watched Jason do something similar as his face turned red as his entire body shook.

The guy went quiet and didn’t say anything else. Mira sighed and shook her head looking back to her book.

“Well if your here for me fuck off, if your here for him…” She trailed off as if to let Jason finish her sentence.

He did, “Fuck off as well.”

A look of slight surprise was on Mira’s face as she looked to Jason, a smile playing on her lips. “Oh really?”

He nodded and her smile widened before she looked back to her book, looking surprisingly happy.

“Awesome,” She remarked as she flipped the page, “anyways you heard us, fuck off dude.”

The guy glared at the two of them and turned away cursing. You laughed letting out a sigh as you saw Jason and Mira share a look before they began talking about the book.

Looking away from them you noticed Dick leaning on your desk a smile on his face. You flinched feeling your entire body beginning to panic.

“Hi.”

“Oh, uh,” You remarked before giving him a smile in return, taking in a breath you continued, “Hi.”

“So I read the book,” He says as he pushed up from the desk.

“Oh,” Is the only thing you can say, your mind felt blank as terror began crawling into every part of you.

Breathe, you told yourself, remember what Nightwing told you. If he can’t see the real you he doesn’t deserve you

You nodded and tried for a genuine smile on your face. Something flickered on Dick’s face and he smiled brighter.

“I was hoping we could talk about it over lunch or dinner.”

You blinked, once, twice then three times as what he said was slowly sinking in. It took you a second to realize he just asked you out. Internally you began to scream, externally your pretty sure the smile was frozen on your face as a look of confusion began at the corners of your eyes.

Taking in a breath you laughed slightly, nodding you let it out and tried your hardest to speak slowly. If you fucked this up you would never live it down, not only to anyone who heard the story but to yourself.

“Oh, that. sounds. fun! Sure.” You replied smiling.

“Awesome.”

It occurred to you, that you would be talking about the book amongst other things. And no matter his opinion you could give him other book recommendations. As excitement for the upcoming date raced in your veins a thought popped into your head, one of the whispers.

What if this is a prank? What if it’s all a practical joke being played

You hesitated for a moment before pushing the thought away. it wouldn’t-couldn’t be a joke. Dick was nice, nice and sweet. As your nerves began to climb up your throat you took another breath in.

Breathe

Trust

You had to trust, you could do that. Shoving away your worries you focused on the fact that you could recommend more books... something you realized he didn’t know.

“Icabevrecbak-” You began before you heard yourself.

Heat flushed your cheeks and you squeezed your eyes shut wincing. Peeking one open you didn’t dare try looking at him.

You can do this, you just had to breathe

“Sorry,” You began not looking at him as you breathed and tried to take it slow, “I meant I could recommend more books if you liked that one.”

“It’s fine.” Dick said waving a hand as if to brush off the apology, “Honestly I think it’s cute.”

You froze, it felt as if your brain just short-circuited. Blinking you felt yourself give him a look of disbelief.

Honestly I think it’s cute, echoed in your ears and then you heard what Nightwing said the night before,

If he’s worth shit he’ll think it’s cute. I know I do

Blinking you realized that he continued to speak. Instead of pretending what was going on you gave him a confused look and he smiled.

“I’d love if you recommended more book. How does tomorrow sound?”

You didn’t exactly know what was happening but you heard yourself replying, “Uh, great.”

You felt as if you were in a muddle, you could see what was happening and hear it but you could really feel anything. Faintly you heard a ringing and for a moment you were scared you were gonna pass out. A nervous laugh escaped you as you tried to breathe. An even wider grin appeared on his face and he leaned in towards you.

“You get off at four right?”

Nodding you continued to reply almost robotically, “Uh yeah.”

“Well I’ll pick you up from here then.”

You blinked, the muddle was slowly fading and you were finding yourself again. Clearing your throat you nodded again. You could feel your heart in your chest doing it’s fluttery jump as your stomach did non-stop flips.

“Okay.” You breathed out blinking again.

Dick nodded then shot you, what you can only imagine his classic playboy smile which sent your mind into a tizzy.

“I’ll see you then.”

“Uh okay, bye.” You mumbled out as you watched him walk away not exactly sure about what just happened but fully aware that you had a date with him the next day.

Holy fuck, you had a date with Dick Grayson. You couldn’t believe it, and as you felt your excitement race over you you remembered what Nightwing had, essentially, told you.

-You’re super cool and awesome. And if he can’t see that he doesn’t deserve you.

If you make a fool of yourself he should be saying something like... like. I think- I think I might just love you a little bit.

If he’s worth shit he’ll think it’s cute-

Pressing your face into your hands you tried your hardest not to blush. Not only did you have Nightwing’s words playing in your ears but the feelings you had for both him and Dick.

Fuck

You were completely and totally torn in half. After a moments thought you sighed. Maybe the phrase All The Man I Need wasn’t entirely true. After all one guy hadn’t exactly met all you needs, however if the both of them did have qualities that you needed-

No, no you weren’t going to think about that. After all right now you needed to focus on one guy, he was after all the one you were more likely going to end up in a actual relationship with. You had to focus on Dick Grayson... for now at least.

For now.

225 notes · View notes

witchlyboo · 3 years ago

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

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#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

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angelamajiki · 4 years ago

Note

Can I request something?!

We try to escape Overhaul but he catches us but as a punishment seeing as we don't like him he gives us to Rappa so he can do what he wants to us for a week and in the end we go back to him and he has you never wanting to even step out your room.

Is that fine? Anyways stay safe, drink water, wear a mask, and keep up the great work!

PARINGS: Rappa x AFAB! Reader

CW: yandere, watersports, noncon, facefucking, teasing, manhandling, scumbag rappa

AN: thank you nonnie!! <33

Kai had caught you trying to escape. Or rather, Rappa was the one who actually caught you, laughing and jeering at your cries and the pounding of your small fists on his back. Your captor was not amused in the slightest as his henchman emerged into his office with you tucked a little too snuggly over his shoulder.

“Caught your lil’ scrub tryin’ to escape, boss.” Rappa cackled, sitting you down on the chair in front of the yakuza leader’s desk. “Damn, does she squeal like a pig.”

He clapped his hand over your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. The man had taken a liking towards you, meaning to say that he enjoyed watching Kai dole out punishments for when you tried to escape or otherwise upset him, which wasn't hard to do.

“Yes, she does.” Kai sighed, brows furrowed deeply in irritation. “What am I going to do with you, pet? Do I not provide for you, care for you? How can I get you to behave, hm?”

Tapping a finger against his forehead, he signed and closed his eyes, slumping back in his chair, hands folded in his lap.

“I’ll never stop trying to escape because anywhere else is better than being here with you, Overhaul.” You spat venomously, squirming under Rappa’s tight grip. The man behind you just chuckled darkly.

“Say, boss...if the little lady here is so unhappy with you, why don't you put her on loan to someone for the time being? Let ‘em show her how good you are to her, eh?”

Kai quirked a brow at Rappa, immediately picking up what he was throwing down. He had half a mind to punish Rappa as well for his blatant display of insubordination and to dare to think he’d willingly give up his precious pet to him like she was a mere stray.

Ah, but the man did have a point. His pet needed to be taught how kind her master is, and Rappa is the perfect opposition to do so. A degenerate at heart, his underling, was rowdy, filthy, and above all, a bigger sadist than Kai was.

He knew the man loved nothing more than to watch him spank the poor thing until she was a sobbing, blubbering mess of “I’m sorry, Kai!” gasping and panting for air like she was on the verge of death. What a drama queen he had on his hands. But he treated you like a queen nonetheless, but your attitude was simply out of control at this point.

“I think Rappa’s right, dear. Why don't you spend the week with him? Take a break from me if I’m so intolerable.”

Ice ran through your veins as Rappa unceremoniously scooped you up from your chair, opting to throw you over his shoulder. Kai’s chuckle and Rappa’s jeers mixed with your protests as you squirmed and squealed in his monstrous grasp.

“I thought you said anywhere else would be better than being with me. Remember, this is the choice you made, darling.”

“Rappa, you're dismissed.”

With a wave of a gloved hand, your fate was sealed. The bulkier man nodded and smacked a large hand over your ass.

“You and me? We're gonna have some fun, little piggy.” ——— •

Settled on Rappa’s bed, if you could call a sparsely covered mattress that hadn't been washed in god knows how long a bed, your nerves were set ablaze watching the man undress. And he certainly made a show of it, flexing his muscles and winking at you all the while.

“Like what ya see, sweets?” He groaned, striking a pose in front of you in nothing but a wife-beater and a pair of boxers. Oogling couldn't be helped; the man was built like Adonis. Strong, fierce, and big. Much, much bigger than you were.

“I hope so, cause I definitely do.” He smirked, licking his lips as he stalked over to you. “Don’t ya about a thing, little piggy. Papa’s gonna take real good care of ya”

Climbing over you, he pinned you to the mattress with one hand and used the other to feel you up.

“Yeesh, yer stiff as a board. Maybe a little game will help loosen you up, piggy.”

Fingers crawled their way up to your torso and to your mouth, leaving a searing heat in their wake. His fingers snatched your tongue from your mouth, shoving themselves down your throat to choke you.

“This little piggy wants to choke on my cock.”

His insenstant cooing and grinning had your stomach turning in knots, helping the fingers in your throat gag you even further. The thumb pressed down on your tongue before spitting a glob down your throat.

“This little piggy wants to be squeezed real tight.”

The sing-song tone in his voice only served to heighten your fear. Of course, the bastard thought this was all a game to him and you his toy.

His grin only got wider as his hand crept down your throat and ghosted itself there, barely touching before lunging. A panicked yip flew from your mouth as he pinned you by your throat.

There was hardly any pressure, just a cage of fingers keeping you locked into his impossibly firm grip. The hand was more than large enough to circle your neck. You smell the grim on his fingers, the labor of his love for the Shie Hassaikai.

“Almost got ya, piggy!” He teased, licking a long strip up your cheek. God, his breath stunk.

“Keep up now; the fun’s just starting.”

His fingers seemed to leave a trail of grime as they traveled down to your exposed breasts. They groped and gripped at your tender flesh without finesse or technique. So rough and worn from all the fighting he does. Your right tit was cupped in his hand before he gave it a hard squeeze.

“This little piggy wants to be milked.”

Onto your left, giving your nipple a good tug and pinch.

“This little piggy wants to be sucked.”

Your squeals and cries only made him laugh harder, grunting when you squirmed against the leg in between your thighs.

“Aw, is baby girl gonna cry? Cause I’ll give you something to cry about.”

Every touch of the pads from his fingers made you even sicker than before. You could feel every place he touched, the disgusting filth they left in their wake. The continued down your stomach, stopping to tickle you softly on your sides.

“W-What are you doing?!”

Your laughter couldn't be contained as he got rougher and rougher, chuckling along with you as he pressed his face close to yours.

“Stop it! I-I’m going to pee!”

“Good. That's what I like to hear.” He grunted, pressing his elbow hard into your bladder all while tickling you. Shame and piss flushed out of you as he groaned, grinding his knee up against your wet, sloppy cunt.

“Look at that! Piggy’s finally rolling around in filth where pigs belong.”

“I can't wait to make a mess of you.”

Humiliation flushed your face and your body, feeling even more disgusted as you felt your own piss on your lower body.

Rappa stood up and took a good look at you, admiring his handy work. A flushed, tearful expression that could be fucked up even more, his favorite face to see. Especially on someone as beautiful as you.

Sitting you up, he sat behind you and took your hair into two separate ponytails before trying them off.

“There, perfect for gripping.”

A rough push landed you on the floor, naked and afraid. One hand grabbed both your ponytails at the same time and steered you to be seated facing his crotch.

“Open wide, piggy.”

You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough for one evening.

“Are you deaf? Open up, you bratty little bitch. Don't make me ask again unless ya fancy fighting me instead.”

Now that was a truly horrifying thought. The man could quickly kill you with a single punch and let Overhaul bring you back to life, only to do it again and again. Those men, especially Kai, had no qualms about taking your life when you decided to misbehave.

Considering your choices, you cut your losses and nodded, opening your mouth slowly and braced yourself for a brutal facefucking.

The man sunk himself into your throat, sitting there when he bottomed out. His hips twitched as you choked and gagged around his massive dick.

“Yeah.” He groaned, pulling out only to slam back in. “That's what I’m talkin’ about. Finally got ya to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”

Hips thrusting, he set a brutal pace into your mouth. Heavy balls slapped against your chin as your spit and tears made a mess of your face. He paid no mind to your shaking and struggling, only moaning when you choked particularly hard.

“Guess I gotta let ya up to breathe, huh piggy?”

Pulling himself out, he gave you a few seconds to cough and gulp in the air before nudging his way back into your warm, wet mouth.

“Can’t spoil you too much now.�� He chuckled.

One hand gripping each ponytail, he tugged them tight and fucked your mouth with vigor. His hips slammed against your cheeks, sure to leave bruises as they started to sputter.

“Y-You’re just so cute, piggy. I can’t last long when you look at me like that.” He grunted, pulling your hair even tighter.

His cock hurt your throat horribly. You could feel the burn of every stroke and spasm into your mouth, tears streaming down your face even more from the pain. Your hair felt like it was going to be ripped out from the sheer amount of strength he was pulling it with.

His thrusts increased in pace as he chased his orgasm, opting to hold the back of your head flush against his crotch when he finally did cum. Making sure to swallow every last drop, Rappa didn't let you up until he was completely finished.

“Such a good girl for Papa.” Rappa jeered, picking you up off the floor by the throat and pressed a sloppy kiss to your mouth.

Tossed onto the bed, he spread your legs wide and pressed a thumb to your dripping hole.

“And this little piggy wants to get fucked all night long.”

#yandere rappa #yandere rappa x reader #rappa #rappa x reader #yandere my hero academia #my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere mha #mha #yandere bnha #bnha #yandere x reader #yandere

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murderslugs · 4 years ago

Text

Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

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~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!

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