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annab-nana · 4 years ago

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Bookshelf Confessions - Peter Parker

Peter and MJ are caught in the middle between a relationship and a friendship, a situationship if you will. There are definitely some feelings between the both of them, but when she overhears Peter talking to Ned about them in the library, she pulls you in to listen in with her and the conversation takes a turn you both didn’t expect.

A/N: Hi guys! So this was a late night tiktok inspiration. Here is the video I got it from and I changed the words up a bit to better fit how Peter would talk and to better describe MJ as well but anyway, I hope you enjoy! Oh also, if you guys really want it, I could do a part 2 to this but we will see :)

Part 1 of Books Tell Secrets and Lies

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 3.2k+

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“Ned, I need to talk to you,” Peter whispered to the boy as he grabbed his arm and pulled him between a couple of bookshelves in the library. School had just ended, and the mop of brown curls dragged his best friend all the way to the room filled with books and resources as soon as class had been dismissed.

Though it was a library and you were supposed to be silent, the way Peter was being exceptionally quiet and almost secretive obviously caught the eye of an observant and nosy Michelle Jones. She was about to join the pair, but upon noticing that her boyfriend—if you could even call him that—seemed to try to be hiding something from her, she stopped. If Peter ever had a problem, he would round all three of you guys up to discuss it, needing all of the brilliant sound minds of his buddies to help him make a decision. So, when he was only talking to Ned without you and her included, she got a weird feeling and hung back behind the shelf next to them to eavesdrop.

You were minding your own business as you searched for a book to write your English report—which you thought was ridiculous that you already had a big assignment to complete when it was only the second week into your senior year but that was a topic for another day—and you were walking past the aisles to find where the fiction books of author’s with the last name starting with Z would be found when a hand reached out to grip your arm and tug you into a nearby aisle. You were about to protest until you saw it was only your harmless yet curious best friend. Before you could open your mouth to ask why the hell she dragged you here, her hand quickly but silently covered your mouth, prohibiting you from speaking at all. Her other hand came up to her own mouth as she placed a finger in front of her lips signaling you to be quiet. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone.

Y/n: ??

She pointed towards the bookshelf and you heard the mumblings of one Peter Parker, the top of his head hard to miss when it was peering above the dusty books that lined the metal shelf.

You, MJ, Ned, and Peter made quite the friend group. Though you all were fairly different, your similarities brought you together and you loved having them by your side. What made it even better is that when MJ and Peter started their “relationship”, it didn’t mess up the dynamic at all. You all still hung out and you and Ned weren’t uncomfortable with their closeness at all, though you both did want to know if they were actually dating or not.

Since the Europe trip, they have been a lot closer. There was no denying that. You and Ned both have seen the stolen glances and holding hands under the lunch table. There was something going on there that they didn’t want to let on or they were just simply happy being together more often.

When you heard about Peter’s plan to woo MJ over the summer, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were not a little disappointed. You were ecstatic for MJ, but your heart longed to be in her place. He had looked to you for help in making her swoon since you had been her best friend for years and while you would always help Peter no matter what, it hurt to see him in awe of another girl. Once you found out that MJ felt the same towards Peter and you knew his plan would work, you pushed those thoughts and feelings to the back of your mind, far where no one could find them. You had been a tad upset for a moment, but when you saw how happy they were, there was nothing more you could do but support them.

You still were confused as to why you both were hiding from your friends behind a bookshelf before MJ started typing furiously on her phone to text you.

MJ: peter is being hella sus and i wanna get to the bottom of it

Y/n: you little detective

MJ smirked at you as you both leaned in a little closer to hear better.

“I’ve been hanging out with MJ,” Peter started, running a hand through those beautiful chestnut curls and focusing on Ned who was smiling innocently and nodding along to the conversation. “Everybody thinks we’re dating because I spend my weekends hanging at her house and watching movies or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Ned chuckled, clueless to where the conversation was heading as were you. MJ had a deep feeling in her gut that it would lead to him telling Ned he wants to break up with her even though they were not actually together, but she wasn’t quite sure that was all he had to say.

“She’s on the decathlon team, one of the smartest people I know, and she’s could even be prom queen if she wasn’t so against it.” Both the boys lightly laughed at that as you all knew MJ too well. You had to hold back your giggle while you and MJ shared an amused look before continuing to listen in on the conversation.

“While we study chemistry, there’s a little more chemistry between us if you know what I mean,” you watched the bashful boy sputter while pink dusted his cheeks. You looked to MJ who found the floor to be much more interesting than your gaze at the moment.

‘You guys fucked? And you didn’t tell me,’ you mouthed after placing your fingers under her chin to make her look up at you. Her eyes widened and she shook her head profusely before mouthing back, ‘no, just made out a lot.’ That put your heart at ease a bit yet you still weren’t fond of it, but Peter’s next words caught the attention of you both.

“But I have a secret I must confess,” Peter sighed, eyes flitting down almost as if in shame. Your eyebrows furrowed while your puzzled expression met MJ’s worried one. Your hand reached out to grab hers and your thumb rubbed smoothly over her knuckles, a small gesture you knew provided her with much comfort and though she was trying not to show it, you knew she was getting anxious.

“It’s not her laugh or the way she’d dress. She’s not the reason I’ve been thinking about love,” he muttered with his head still down. Ned let out a light gasp at what he was hinting at and your heart broke for MJ. You tugged at her hand and tried to step forward to lead her out of the library, this conversation being one she did not need to hear, but she remained put. She gave you a sad nod as if saying ‘it’s okay y/n’, so you conceded and stayed with her for emotional support. But you knew the second she left, you would rip Peter a new one if she hadn’t done it first.

“Every weekend we hang out, I lose my cool when she’s around over stupid little things that shouldn’t even bother me,” Peter stated with a huff, angry with himself because of how he felt. If he could love MJ and not feel at war with himself and his feelings, then that is what he would do but he was growing tired of the constant battle in his head and in his heart. “And I don’t know if this is just a crush.”

So, he liked someone else for sure because that was the second time he mentioned something like that. You were growing angry with the boy and you knew that even if he possessed superhuman abilities, your rage would overpower him. Your eyes mixed with sadness and anger sought out MJ again to check on her. She was remaining closed off as always, but she had begun to open up a bit more recently and Peter’s actions were putting her back where she was.

“How do I find the words to tell her,” Peter paused, eyes darting around before meeting Ned’s, “that I’m in love with her best friend.”

You and MJ both stiffened and for some reason, you felt uncomfortable holding her hand now. You were doing it to comfort her as you always have, but you were the girl her ‘boyfriend’ was in love with. Your wide eyes remained trained on Peter and Ned as you waited for them to further confirm your suspicions.

“Y/n?” Ned gawked at his best friend. He had zero clue that Peter felt like this, but he did know you had a small crush on Peter when y’all were formulating the plan to get MJ to fall in love with him. Ned had seen the way you looked at Peter and one day, he saw the tears that brimmed your eyes before you excused yourself to the bathroom, Peter too focused on perfecting each step to see that you were distraught. Ned left as well to go ‘get something from his locker’ and he found you fanning your eyes dry and blowing some air out to calm yourself.

“You like him, don’t you?” Ned questioned as you turned around to hide your embarrassment. You were crying over Peter Parker while helping him get with your best friend. It was silly.

“Hey,” he spoke calmly as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to hide from me. I saw the tears before you left but y/n, why are you helping him with this if you know he will end up with someone else? Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Yes, it hurts like hell but what am I supposed to do? Tell him I like him?” you spoke sarcastically but of course, he took it literally.

“Yes! That’s exactly what you should do,” he encouraged while you shook your head.

“I can’t do that to him, Ned. He is head over heels in love with MJ. Anyone with eyes can see that and though she will not let anyone know, I can tell she has a crush on him too so who am I to get in the way of that? They will be happy together and I will get over him. I will be okay, Ned,” you told him as you quickly wiped away your tears.

“Promise you’ll be okay?” Ned inquired, holding out a pinky for you to link yours with his. The childish act made you smile, and you did just that.

“I promise as long as you don’t tell him.” Ned nodded in agreement and you two unlinked pinkies. “Now I am gonna actually go to the bathroom to make sure I look fine, and I’ll be back,” you informed him before heading into the restroom.

“Yeah, Ned. I fucked up. I am going to ruin the whole group and their friendship. MJ will hate me and so will y/n for hurting MJ,” he sighed, leaning against the shelf to his right and keeping his eyes down. He felt so bad for this, but this was how he felt and he could not keep lying to MJ.

“Peter, you’re an idiot if you think they’re gonna let you ruin their friendship. They were best friends before you and they will be best friends after you too. You’re starting to sound like Flash,” Ned giggled while Peter shot him a glare, quietening him for a moment. “Sorry, but you should’ve come to this revelation back in June. Things would’ve been a lot easier.”

You had forgotten that they didn’t know you were there, and MJ was about to hear that you had been in love with her fling for a while and didn’t tell her. Again, you tried to get her to leave to spare her from hearing any more, but her feet remained planted. She was not going anywhere and if she wasn’t, you weren’t either. So, you stayed and listened beside her.

“What do you mean by that?” Peter quizzed and Ned’s eyes widened, realizing that he said too much. He let out a sigh before giving in and telling him.

“Y/n’s... kinda been in love with you since before the summer. I don’t know how much before, but she liked you when we were planning how to get MJ to fall in love with you during the Europe trip. I saw her tear up once and then I found out.”

MJ’s hand dropped from your own, her face reading shock and hurt when you looked at her. You felt like shit and you hadn’t really done anything wrong. Maybe you should have told her that you used to have a crush on Peter, but it seemed irrelevant since they were closer, and you never stood a chance so why add drama when it wasn’t needed? She took a couple of steps back before walking to leave the library, leaving you to follow.

“MJ, wait,” you called after her, but she was long gone. Tears filled your eyes as you watched your best friend storm away through the hall where you stood from the library’s entrance. You could have followed her further, but you knew MJ and you knew she’d rather be alone right now.

“Y/n...” you heard the faint voice of Peter whisper from behind you, a warm hand clasping over your shoulder as you turned to look at his freckled face. Under any other circumstances, you would’ve been thrilled to hear that Peter had liked you back, but your best friend’s heart was broken by him because of you as well and you just wanted it all to be fixed.

“You really had to tell him. I promised you I’d be okay if you didn’t tell him,” you spoke to Ned, choosing to ignore Peter’s presence in front of you for the moment.

“I’m sorry. It slipped and I couldn’t get out of it. I didn’t know you guys were right there.” He was right. It was not completely his fault. You two were invading on their privacy. You can’t help what you hear.

“Y/n,” Peter repeated, and your tear-brimmed eyes snapped to his honey brown ones.

“What?” You did not mean to come off angry, but you were aggravated to say the least.

“Are you okay?” he asked genuinely. The softness of his voice and eyes were pulling you in but you were so irritated with him at the same time.

“No,” you whispered, breaking your promise to Ned as he did to you. Peter stepped forward to hug you but your hand on his chest stopped him. “You can’t comfort me anymore. Do you realize what you have done? You have broken MJ’s heart, a heart I didn’t know was capable of breaking. If she sees us hugging, that will just drive the knife in deeper. You hurt me by dragging me into the middle of all this and because I didn’t tell her that I liked you, she probably hates me too.”

Saying that last little bit broke your heart. Your best friend probably hated you. Your crush liked you back, but you could not be with him which was more infuriating than longing for him from afar. You felt angry, upset, and exposed as your biggest secret was out. All the emotions whirled within you and you did let a few tears fall.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. This was not my intention nor how I wanted this to go at all. I’m so sorry,” he softly spoke before trying to hug you again as he desperately wanted to comfort you. He hated to see you upset. This time, you let him. You let your arms circle his waist and your head cry into his chest. You let him wrap his arms around your neck and press his lips to your head, something he had always done when trying to calm you down. You felt like you would have no friends left if you pushed Peter away so why do it? The reason why you should have spoke up and broke you two apart in an instant.

“Wow,” she muttered, saddened brown eyes dancing between you and Peter. “I came back because I wanted to talk this out before I stayed in my room and was left alone in my head, but you know what? I don’t really feel like talking anymore.”

“No! MJ, wait! Please!” you tried to stop her but her cold eyes and raised hand warned you to give it a rest.

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk but until then leave me the hell alone.” And with that, her head of unruly brown crinkles and curls left the building of Midtown for the weekend.

The interaction made you feel even worse as a sob bubbled up your throat. You had never been like this with MJ, and you were scared you were going to lose her forever. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound of you crying and Peter was quick to wrap his arms around you again, but now, you shoved him away.

“No, Peter! Can’t you see what this has done? We can’t be together. I don’t want to see you until MJ and I are on good terms and maybe not even then. I just...” you backed away towards the door, “I need to be alone. Ned, I’ll text you later.”

Ned nodded at you with a sad smile and held his pinky up toward you, his silent way of asking if you were okay similar to the promise you two had made months ago. While the action caused your lips to turn upwards only slightly, you shook your head to answer the question. He understood and he and Peter both watched you leave as well.

“Well, I guess I was wrong. You can come between their friendship,” Ned spoke up, trying to lighten the mood with a joke that was way too soon for Peter to enjoy if he ever would.

“Ned, not now. I’ve accidentally broken two girls’ hearts and they both happened to be my best friends. I feel like shit,” he groaned, rubbing a frustrated hand down his face. “I’m just gonna go on patrol to distract myself and then swing home.”

“Okay well, I’m gonna bring this to y/n and check on her before going home. I’d check on MJ too, but she scares me so I’ll just text or call her later,” Ned chuckled while holding up a copy of The Book Thief, the exact book you were hunting prior to the whole fiasco. “But you need to figure out what to do. You can’t ruin their friendship. I understand if they don’t want to be friends with us, but you can’t tear them apart.”

“I know, I know. I really fucked up,” Peter huffed while stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do but I’m going to fix this.”

“You better,” Ned stated before he left the school himself. Now all of his friends had left and were angry with him in different ways. He crushed MJ’s heart and then he crushed yours even more by unintentionally making your best friend hate you. Ned was more disappointed than angry, and he felt bad himself for spilling your secret. This whole thing was a huge mess that Peter had to fix to bring his favorite people back together and he was beginning to wish he had just kept his mouth shut in the first place.

Part 2: A Chemical Aquaintance ->

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#peter #peter parker #peter imagine #peter x reader #peter fanfic #peter fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #marvel #books tell secrets and lies

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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could i req a hc for kita & akaashi where their crush is secretly a jujutsu sorcerer who goes to their school to undercover and to kill the curse but they didn’t know and what if one day, she saves them from the curse? what’s their reaction towards reader? thanks!

JBBSHJDJ JJK X HQ????? GOD BLESS. thank u so much for requesting this hope you like it!! <3

kita shinsuke

kita’s not a nosy person. he always keeps to himself and stays out of people’s business, and he’s never been the type to encourage rumors or to dwell long on what if’s and theories and conspiracies

but even he had to admit your situation was weird

you enroll into inarizaki mid-year, and you’re a third year like him. at first he’d just assumed you’d moved from a neighboring high school last minute, but you never attempted to participate, as if you were only here for show. next, he’d assumed it had been familial issues, but he heard nothing of that, never saw you with a sibling or a parent or a guardian. it was all too. vague for his liking

of course, this amount of interest is unbecoming of kita. it’s just. there were so many questions to you and no answers. you really, really intrigued him, and okay, maybe he thought you were really pretty, and yeah maybe he did have a small crush on you, but that was besides the point!

the main thing is that you were just. sus.

he realized you weren’t really causing harm though, just quietly minding your business, so he did the same, and chose to ignore any nagging at the back of his mind

until he picks up on another weird habit of yours: staying at school until the latest hours. as involved as he was with school activities, he hadn’t heard you being a part of any club, considering how late you’d enrolled in school. but here you were, without fail, every day, by the school gates as the sun sets

the only reason so much attention was given to you from kita was because of how peculiar your case was. it frustrated him how he knew nothing, just your name after your brief introduction to the class, and the fact that there seemed so much to you. it’s not that you were simply a private, boring person. it couldn’t be, not with how secretive everything was

one day, on accident, he lags behind in the boys’ gymnasium, cleaning every volleyball with extra care and without noticing, the sun had set. under the assumption he was the only one in the gymnasium, after ensuring every and all equipment was in its place and clean, he grabbed the keys and started to head out. the gymnasium was quiet and dark, save for the gentle stream of moonlight and —

whatever that thing was, it did not belong in the gymnasium

okay let’s assume kita can see curses because what is there that kita can’t do

i don’t think he’d panic outwardly, but he definitely would freeze up and just not know what to do

it didn’t look too friendly either. or sound friendly. or smell friendly

your appearance comes all of a sudden for him, but honestly, when you come barging in through the doors and you start battling the curse, he’s? not surprised?

like he figured you had a secret, just — who knew it would be this?

he’s honestly a little mesmerized with how you manage to fight it off and keep him out of harm’s way simultaneously, until you finally exorcise it

you’re breathing heavily after you’re done, since the curse had put up quite the fight against you, so kita, with his captain instincts, and with mobile feet again thankfully, comes up to you and asks if you’re okay

you look at him bewildered like??? am i okay??? are you okay???/

you’re a little concerned how unfazed he is by the curse tbh

after the adrenaline fades away, and you’re left standing in this dark, empty gymnasium with this really handsome guy, you finally find it within yourself to introduce yourself, telling him your name, before lifting up your hand to shake it with his, continuing, “and i’m a jujutsu sorcerer.”

kita smiles, there’s a part of him, an itch that’s been dying to get scratched, that’s finally relieved, and he takes your hand in his, shaking it firmly and saying, “kita shinsuke; pleasure to meet you.”

“pleasure’s all mine.”

he walks you home, and the entire time he realizes how you’re really the furthest thing from quiet, you’re just serious when you need to be, given your occupation. you explain the whole ordeal, about the manifestation of curses spiking in this area, how you’d been assigned this mission, everything.

it is so satisfying to him finally understanding everything. it’s like finishing a puzzle that’s taken months to complete

you admit that that had been the last curse, since you’d eliminated the source, and you’d have to leave soon

not without his number you’re not <3

kita’s not the type to want to show off his s/o, but once you inevitably become that, he takes every opportunity he can to watch everyone’s eyes as they see you kick ass. it’s his guilty pleasure :)

akaashi keiji

okay this one’s a little different because your arrival at fukurodani wasn’t so sudden. yeah you’d joined later than most students, but you’ve been here since the start of the year, so akaashi wasn’t suspicious of you, since you’d never given him a reason to be

he doesn’t see you outside of school often. honestly, he doesn’t even see you in school. you don’t share classes with him, so he doesn’t know if you skip classes or not, but he’s heard that you do. you’re also never like. anywhere. it’s most that he knows of you

he just assumed you were one of those careless kids that didn’t really give a shit about school, until he started seeing you. except, it was at the weirdest times, and the weirdest locations: sometimes it’d be behind the gymnasium where he practices volleyball, or it’d be in those sketchy alleyways where he was 90% sure people sold drugs there, sometimes he’d spot you on the roof of the school. it was so

odd?

akaashi’s a very curious person. he’s not nosy, he just has a very overactive imagination (i mean, literature department akaashi keiji? obviously)

so all this just made him unconsciously pay more attention to you. like, he didn’t want to, he just subconsciously did. any time he’d pick you out from the crowd, he’d find his eyes following you narrowly, or anytime he heard your name, his ears would perk up. he really didn’t mean it. you just kinda fascinated him, to the point of, maybe a crush? he wouldn’t really call it that, but yeah, he guesses the symptoms are of a crush

but anyways, this school was really boring! that’s why!

not a crush >:(

so! he’d been walking home one night, let’s say bokuto was with his family and there was no training for that day. it was winter, so the sun had set pretty early, leaving him in the paleness of the moonlight and the occasional streetlight illuminating the pathway for him. there wasn’t really anybody around, and he figured at a time like this people were either already home or still at work

until he heard a low growling noise

he didn’t really think much of it, only stiffening up a bit

but he told himself it was his mind playing tricks on him, or something he mistook for a growl, or maybe it was a growl and it was just some dog nearby. just tried to stick to rational thinking because what else would it be?? was there option for anything else?

until, out of nowhere, you appeared from an alley he just crossed past, and curled up against him, one arm hugging him tight, before you raised a hand to your lips and silently asked him to stay quiet

he was

very confused

like what the fuck

but then you shifted, spinning around him. curiously, he twisted around with you, and

damn

what the actual fuck

so it wasn’t a dog

the curse lunged at you, or maybe it lunged at akaashi, but you quickly kicked it away, sending it spinning, before you raised your hands up above you, ready to exorcise it, until it twisted unexpectedly and aimed at akaashi

it made you panic, and instead of focusing on exterminating the curse, you turned your focus on protecting akaashi, who was in momentary shock. or maybe it was awe. you weren’t sure. somehow, you fought with the curse, maneuvering your way around it and moving akaashi along with you. somehow, his hand was in yours, and he was letting you shift him right and left as you attempted to fight off the curse. god, what the fuck is going on

eventually, finally, akaashi ducked behind you, and you raised your hands above you again, quickly exorcising it. he watched from under his shielding arms as the curse — exploded? vanished? evaporated?

and without even missing a beat, you were kneeling before him, hands on his shoulders, shaking him wildly, asking is he’s okay

it kinda made him want to laugh at how panicked you seemed in comparison to how serious and scary you’d been a second before

akaashi finally answers that yes, he’s okay, but he demands an explanation, please, because he’s never been more confused

you continue to walk him home, with the lame excuse of “i’m your personal bodyguard now,” and explain everything to him. he’s. kinda. really amazed? like you thought he’d get thrown off at the reality of the world you and him live in but he’s actually really fascinated, and he listens to you talk the entire time, only speaking when he has a question

when you come to school the next day, you smile at him knowingly, waving at him and when bokuto sees him wave back with a small smile on his face, he combusts.

akaashi sorta really likes the idea of being the only one to know your little secret. something about it is so satisfyingly intimate, and the trust it conveys? he’s really honored, you know?

as your s/o, he gets really worried whenever you’re sent out on missions, but you always remind him that what brought you two together was you saving his ass <3

and then he’s reminded of just how proud of you and amazed he is hehe

end note; i want to write a book. :D

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x jujutsu kaisen #hq x jjk #haikyuu crossover #jujutsu kaisen crossover #kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita headcanons #kita shinsuke headcanons #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi headcanons

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago

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4 times he wanted to come over + one time he did

Ok, we’re going to ignore several things here, like the fact that this was an 8 page Google Doc that I put together in a few hours, the fact that said document had been blank since June, t y p o s, and the fact that it’s nearly three am and I have my first day of classes technically today (aka at 2 pm).

But here I am, with my second fic of the day? IDK but since classes are starting, my posts are going to be a lot less frequent, so hopefully you guys like this! -------------------

one

Your apartment was finally put together just the way you liked it; all your stuff had its place, it was decorated just the way you liked it, you even had a pantry full of food, a rare feat when you were in college even with living with three other girls. Your first morning in your new, fully set up place was going to be celebrated by yourself. You had planned to make yourself breakfast that would probably last into lunch, order Chinese food later that night, drink coffee and watch Seinfeld on Hulu until you felt like going to sleep. There was no better way to break in a new place than by just relaxing in it.

You turn on your TV, setting your coffee and plate down on the table in front of your couch, and walk over to the huge windows you were lucky enough to have in the apartment. It was a picture-perfect day, and the sun shined right into your apartment, not a single cloud in the blue sky. You felt like you were in a movie like someone had curated the scene and that with the touch of a button, the green screen would be gone and so would the magic.

Sitting down, putting your feet up on the table, you dig in. This was actually perfect for you. Your new job was going to be stressful and you knew it. The more you could find ways to relax in your home, the better the job would be.

After three episodes and nearly spilling your coffee all over you twice, you decide to get up and move around. You were drawn back to your windows, still in awe at the scene on the other side of them. Across the street, it looks like someone was doing the same in their apartment. He was tall, handsome, shirtless, and covered with tattoos that you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of.

He waves at you smiling in a way that made you melt. It took everything in you to wave back and not do something stupid, mentally thanking yourself that the pajamas you had been wearing were athletic shorts and a tshirt from your sorority, and not something more embarrassing.

You go back to your couch, knowing that he could still see you and probably what you were watching. You couldn’t focus on the episode, feeling as if he were still there watching you. You tried to force yourself not to steal glances at him but failed, every so often seeing him mirroring your actions, watching TV on his couch. You didn’t know that the entire time, he was also stealing glances at you. He couldn’t help it; never before had he seen someone look so naturally beautiful, so in their element and carefree while just sitting and watching TV.

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, pausing mid-episode and getting up to find the paper, markers, and tape you know you had stashed somewhere.

Messily scrawling ‘I just moved in, nice to meet you,’ on a piece of paper, you tape it up on the window, praying that you wrote it big and dark enough that he could see it. Sighing when he wasn’t still on the couch, you get back on your own and press play on the TV again.

Where could he have gone? And why were you more invested in the handsome stranger on the other side of the street than you were in the show about nothing that you had grown up watching?

Your stomach growls, not quite late enough to order dinner, you wander into your kitchen to get a snack, looking over to the window of handsome man to see that he had left a note, presumably for you. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Pierre-Luc’ was written in print messier than that of a doctor’s. Thank god your best friend growing up had the world’s worst writing, having to ask him to rewrite it would have been demeaning and embarrassing.

And so it began: you would write a note, watch an episode, then check to see if he left you anything back. He always did,

His name was Pierre-Luc and he played hockey. After a quick google search, unbeknownst to him since you were assuming he couldn’t see what was on your phone, you found that he was a professional hockey player, player for the Blue Jackets. Great, as if he weren’t already being sweet, asking you questions, leaving you charmingly flirty messages on his window for you, now he was an athlete? Quite possibly one of the sexiest types of men in your opinion? Great. Amazing.

‘What’s for dinner?’ he leaves on his window, disappearing somewhere into his apartment.

‘Ideally Chinese food, where do you suggest?’ is what you leave for him, scrolling through Uber eats to see what was cheapest and nearby. You look up, seeing him writing on a notepad his answer, taping it to his window before sending you what you could swear was a wink.

‘Best place to eat out is here at my place,” you read, bursting out laughing. Confident, this one.

You roll your eyes, leaving a cheeky message about sticking to Chinese food and just ordering it from the first place that came up.

The night went on, you not realizing you had spent the whole day flirting with a window stranger. He had liked talking to you, too, but it was pretty bad for the environment to be wasting all this paper when he could clearly see the phone that was in your hand or on your table. Writing his number on what he hoped would be his final piece of paper, maybe you would invite him over. Or he could invite you over. There was something about you that he wanted to spend time with you, not flirt with you while a city street separates you. Taping the paper up, he can see you, fast asleep on the couch, your TV screen asking you if you were still there.

Closing his curtains, he hoped that you would use the number soon so you could actually spend time with him.

Two

You had been feeding that cat every morning for over a month. You loved that stray cat; there was a weird sense of satisfaction in feeding her even though you knew your apartment building wouldn’t allow you to take her in as a pet. But of course, the day you had your friends coming over for dinner was the day you had to run to the store to buy more cat food because you ran out the day before and forgot to get some yesterday. You didn’t know who put food out for the cat at night, or even if anyone did.

You go to the bowl sitting in the alley way, seeing that it was empty, confirming your suspicion that no one else fed the poor cat. You would have to start feeding it at night, too.

“Sorry, you don’t have to do this,” you hear someone say behind you. You get up to see him, the man from the window.

“Pierre-Luc? Why don’t I have to do this?”

“Because I’ve been doing it.”

“No, I have,” you argue, knowing that this would lead to a never-ending circle of ‘me, no me.’ You had been texting each other for a few weeks, constantly trying to figure out when you could spend time together, but much like you and your best friend during senior year of college, your schedules never matched up, going a year before finally seeing each other.

“When?” he asks, a cocky smile dancing across his face.

“Every morning before work, what about you,” you ask, getting closer to him. You text relationship was flirty, you were sure of it. Every time you passed by your window when he was home, he made a point to check you out, he winked at you, he smiled. He exuded a welcome confidence that you weren’t used to.

“Every day when I get back from practice.”

“What about the days that you’re away for games?”

“I figured someone would feed him for me.”

“The cat’s a girl,” you say, the little feline coming up to you. “You would know that if you didn’t just assume other people were doing what you set out to do in the first place.”

“Well, my assumption was correct, wasn’t it?” he says, a devilish twinkle in his eye as his tongue runs along his bottom lip.

“You know what they say about assuming,” you tell him, breaking your eye contact to put out some food for the purring animal.

“What’s that?”

“It makes an ass outta you and me,” you tell him, looking up at him towering over you as a laugh leaving his lips. Given his demeanor, you wouldn’t expect him to look as, what’s the right word, jolly? As he did.

“How come you’re feeding her now if you usually do it in the morning?” he asks, bending down to help you.

Feeling your phone buzzing in your pocket that signaled your friends were already there waiting for you, you tell him, “I ran out of food yesterday and didn’t have the chance to get more until after work. Plus, I needed to pick some stuff up for tonight, anyway.”

“Tonight?” he asks, his head snapping up. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, ran through his head.

“Yeah, my friends are coming over for dinner. It’s the first time they’ll be seeing my new place.” You pause for a minute. He was here, obviously with some free time, but did you want his first time over your place to be surrounded by your nosy friends? They knew you were talking to an attractive neighbor, but you knew they would say things to him that would mortify you and send you running before he got the chance.

But like the night you first moved in, fuck it. “Are you free tonight? I would love for you to come over,” you tell him, the smile on his face disappearing as soon as you asked.

“I have a game tonight, I can’t. I was actually about to change and then leave,” he says, looking sad. He wanted to come over, and as soon as you said you were having friends over, he knew that you were going to ask him.

“Oh, that’s fine. Now I have a reason to watch a game, though,” you tell him, smiling. You had to admit, you were a little bit upset, but again, it was probably for the best that he didn’t meet your friends just yet.

“If the game ends early enough, I’ll stop by, yeah?” he suggests, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

Three

“Babe, you’ve lived here for like, what? Almost six months? You have a hot as fuck neighbor who you actually talk to, and he hasn’t come over yet? Why haven’t you asked him to come over?” Amy says with food in her mouth. Your friends were over, again, this time to hang out before they went out to the bars. You were originally going to go, but you were too exhausted, and having already promised to host the pregame, you weren’t going to back out now.

“You call me babe more than any guy I’ve met, you realize that right?” you ask her, getting up to go over to your window. You knew he wasn’t home; you had the Columbus game against the Flyers playing on your TV, Pierre-Luc was on the ice as you absentmindedly went over to the window to see if he was there. “Plus, our schedules never work. Look, Aimes, he’s literally on our TV, meanwhile as soon as all you hooligans leave, I’m going to bed.

“Come on, stay up for the man,” Jeff said. The only male in your group of friends, he always entered the girl talk, encouraging you to get with a guy just as much as the others.

“I’m going out to breakfast with you guys in the morning, how cranky do you want me to be, Jeffy? You know I will not hesitate to throw a potato at you,” you say, the rest of the group laughing even though they know you’re serious. You have thrown stuff at him and only him during breakfast before, him never thinking you’d have the guts to cause a scene in public, but doing it anyway.

“We all know you’d be less cranky if you got laid,” he says through a mouthful of food. Why did everyone talk with their mouths open?

“Tomorrow I’m ordering two breakfasts; one to eat and one to throw at you.”

You tune out your friends for the rest of the night. You only paid attention to the hockey game, your eyes trying to stay focused on Pierre-Luc every time he was on the ice. You did really want him to come over, but again, the first time couldn’t be with your friends, not when they were full psychopaths when it came to any boy that you were talking to. What would you have done if Pierre-Luc was there when Jeff commented about you being cranky and needed to get laid?

Why did the cute guy have to have such a complicated schedule? Every time you were free, he was to jet off somewhere in the country for a few days for games, then he would come back, sleep, go to practice, and then go to a game. From what you could tell, he never stayed up past maybe 10 pm on the nights he didn’t have games, he napped nearly every day after practices, and he really was only home to eat.

Not that you were stalking him. Or memorizing his schedule. You two talked all the time, having evolved from notes in the windows to texting, from texting to calling, from calling to him falling asleep before you while on Facetime. He was one of your best friends, and you had never actually hung out with him at your or his apartment.

“So how long will it take for him to get home now that the game is over?” Amy asks, snapping you out of the trance that you didn’t know you were in.

You didn’t even know that the game was over; the Jackets beat the Flyers 2-1, the game apparently ending about five minutes ago. You never timed how long it took between the game being over and him getting home since it was different pretty much every night. You think. Again, it’s not like you were stalking the boy. “Uh, I don’t know, half an hour?” you guess, giving them what you hoped was enough information for them to not ask you more.

“So has he sent you any like sexy pics?” Tanaka pips in, you nearly choking on the water you were drinking.

“What the ever living fuck?” you nearly scream, all your friends laughing at your reaction. “There is no way I would ever tell you. Guys, we’re friends. Yes, he’s cute, hell, he’s fucking hot, but we’ve never physically spent time together, so can we just drop it?”

They change the subject, going back to the conversation from this afternoon that involved them trying to get you to go out. You loved your friends, they were your found family, but dammit they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Wait, sorry, which apartment is his again?” Jeff asks in the middle of you telling them yet again why you weren’t going out with them.

You all snap your heads to the other building, the one directly across from you now with lights on. “That one,” you say, Pierre-Luc appearing in the window, all of your friends running up to go wave to him. This was mortifying. Your phone started buzzing on the table, and with Pierre-Luc having his phone out for his friends to see, they knew it was from him.

“What did he say!” Tanaka yells, trying to grab your phone from you.

“He said get your creepy friends away from the window,” you lie. If you told them he was asking to come over, they would steal your phone and make him come. “Guys, shouldn’t you be going by now? It’s almost 11, the deal at the bar ends at midnight and all of you are still sober,” you point out, praying that it would work.

“Let’s get drunk!” Amy says, grabbing her bag and marching out the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

“Yep, I’m going to sleep. Text me when you’re all alive!” you say, pushing them out the door.

Your phone buzzes again, Pierre-Luc asking again if he could come now that your friends were gone. You wanted to say yes, but you knew that as soon as he came over, you would be asleep. Plus he just came from a game, there was no way he wasn’t also exhausted. ‘I’m about to pass out, I’m sorry. We’ll hang out eventually, I promise’

Four

You should be back in your apartment by now. You had told Pierre-Luc that you would be home by 11 pm. You had an early day the next day and staying out late wasn’t something you wanted to do, no matter how good your date went or how attractive you thought the guy was.

Much to Pierre-Luc’s dismay, you had told him that your friend Amy had set you up with someone she knew from school. You were going out with him tonight, you Facetiming Pierre-Luc while getting ready. He should have just been over there, watching you get ready. No actually, he should have been the one taking you out, but at this point in whatever the hell relationship you had, the first thing that you were going to do in person with each other, besides that one time you fed the alley cat, was hang out in each other’s apartment.

He was pacing, checking his phone to see if you had sent him anything about your whereabouts. You should have been home by now, why weren’t you home? If you weren’t home in ten minutes, he was going to call the police. No, they wouldn’t do anything. He would figure out how to hack your phone, try to find Amy on social media, something so that he would know you were safe.

Sitting down on his couch, he positioned himself so he had a direct view of your apartment. As soon as you walked in the door and turn on the light to your living room, he would know. He needed that light to go on right now.

‘Maybe I should go over and wait outside her door? Would that be creepy?’ he thought to himself, ‘I could say that I was just checking on you, which would technically be true. It’s not like you were going to bring the guy home, right? But what if you did and then I was there sitting outside your door. I can’t ruin things for you.’

Why has it taken him so long to even get over to your place? Or for you to come over to his? He hated that your schedules were just different enough that you couldn’t meet up. You were always running out the door when he was just getting home and vice versa. He couldn’t even fathom what he would do the first time he saw you in person.

He should have just kissed you when you were feeding the cat. He knows that he wants to date you, how could he not someone who was sweet enough to do something like that for a random cat but also unafraid to chirp him like his teammates?

Your light goes on, him doing everything in his power to not jump up and go to his window, but that doesn’t stop him from watching what was happening.

Your date went well; you and David had really hit it off, leading to making out in the elevator ride up, stumbling into your apartment with your lips practically glued to his. You look across to Pierre-Luc’s apartment, him sitting there. You make eye contact with him, smiling because of David. David comes up behind you, starting to kiss you down your neck. You send a thumbs up to Pierre-Luc, closing the curtain as you let David do as he pleases.

Pierre-Luc sits on his couch, dumbfounded by what he just saw. That should have been him. He should have been the one in your apartment with you right now.

+one

Saturday morning, sitting on your couch, watching Seinfeld. A cup of coffee, your phone, and a plate with some fruit on it, much like the first full day when you moved in. The sky was cloudless and blue, but you weren’t admiring it in the same way as you were that day. You were out with David last night, one month after your first date. You thought everything was going great, until he told you that he wanted to see other people. You shouldn’t have been surprised, he had been saying that he wasn’t sure he was ready for a relationship, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt when he officially broke it off with you.

‘You’re crying,’ a message from Pierre-Luc pops up on your screen. For a moment, you forgot your curtains were open, giving him a full view into your apartment.

‘Yep,’ you reply back, not sure what else to say. He could see you, it’s not like you could lie to him.

‘Need to talk about it?’

‘I don’t want to Facetime right now.’

‘Got it,’ was all he said. You look over at his apartment, just in time to see him shutting the door behind him. What the hell was he doing that he could ask you to Facetime and then leave right after? You let out a sigh, deciding to focus on the TV and try to force yourself to eat the fruit. You weren’t going to feel any better if your hunger turned into hanger, so you might as well eat the food that was in front of you.

You didn’t know where your phone ended up; somewhere in the couch cushions maybe? On the floor? You didn’t even care, you just wanted to wallow and be dramatic for the day. What you weren’t expecting was the knock on your door, interrupting your favorite episode of the show. Getting up, not expecting anyone, you debated even opening the door when you hear his voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s me, open up.” You see Pierre-Luc standing there, a bag from the donut shop down the street in hand, a bunch of take out menus in the other.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, him pushing past you and plopping down on the couch, obviously already knowing the way around.

“You were upset so I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he says, taking out the donuts, putting them on the plate with your fruit, popping a piece in his mouth. “You don’t have to talk about it, but at least this way we’re finally hanging out in person.”

There was something about seeing him sitting on your couch that just felt right. He looked so at home, his feet already up on your table in the way you sat pretty much all the time. He had already started up the episode, replaying it from the beginning so he could see it when you sit down beside him, tucking your feet underneath you.

“Come here,” he says, reaching his arm out. You cuddle up next to him, your head on his shoulder as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. It felt so right. So much better than with David, so much better than with any of the other guys you had been with.

“He dumped me,” you tell him, even though you were sure that you had already texted him that last night when you were on your way home.

“He didn’t deserve you,” you hear him say. He mumbled something else, something you couldn’t quite make out. If he wanted you to hear it, he would have said it louder, you figured.

“He said I play hard to get?” you ask, unsure if that was true or not. Were you hard to get? You slept with the guy on the first night, Pierre-Luc had seen the beginning of it through the window.

“No, you’re not hard to get, you’re hard to earn. Any guy would be lucky to have you. If I had you, I’d,” he stops himself, mentally kicking himself for opening that can of worms that he really didn’t want to dive into yet. You hadn’t even been out on a first date. If anything, maybe, this was your first date.

“You’d what?” you say, sitting up, hoping he would continue. This was his first time in your apartment. Something you had both thought about a lot. You wanted to hear what he would do if you were together, hoping whatever he said would actually happen.

“I’d feed the cat with you in the morning and then do it by myself in the afternoon if I didn’t have a game or something,” he starts, laughing, “I’d go out to breakfast with your friends even if we didn’t go out with them the night before. I’d even hang out with them whenever you did, even though they are a little crazy. You love the people around you, the animals that aren’t even your own pets. You deserve someone who will love you back the way you love everyone and everything.”

You sit there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I should have been the one that night in here with you, not him,” he says, finally admitting it out loud.

“Do something about it now, then,” you tell him.

“What?” he asks, stunned.

“Forget that night you saw me with David, and do something now,” you insist. You had wanted this just as bad as he did, so why were either of you waiting?

He starts slow, sweet, his hand on your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. His lips move with yours, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as his other hand snakes it’s way around you back, picking you up from the seat next to you and placing you in his lap. Your hands go through his hair, your mind blank. This was what you had been waiting for since you first saw him.

He pulls away, his cheeks now red, a smile on his face, “I really hope I’m the only one who ever looked through your window.”

“If anyone else is looking then at least they get a little bit of a show,” you say, kissing him again.

#pierre luc dubois #pierre luc dubois imagines #pierre-luc dubois #pierre-luc dubois imagines #columbus blue jackets #columbus blue jackets imagines #blue jackets #blue jackets imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

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zoey-wades · 3 years ago

Text

Get You (Fluff-ish)

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Aurora Emery

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: A little flirting and swearing, dassit.

Summary: Bryce and Aurora get to know one another, which pushes our boy into unknown, cavity-inducing territory.

A/N: My number one rarepair that no one else ships. I wrote this because I was bullied by @thecapturedafrique into writing something. I haven't written anything for choices in quite some time, so this is... that something.

_____________________________________________________________

To Be Alone (Part One)

Bryce always believed that fawning--real, genuine, starry-eyed awe--was goofy. He could count on one hand the number of times a partner left him speechless, which was quite a feat. It wasn’t that he believed he was above it; he could never quite understand the position someone would have to be in to feel that way about someone else. But that damn Aurora Emery and her silent but deadly studious stare could bring any man to his knees. He told her as much. Multiple times, in fact. She’d laugh it off as just a huge joke, but Bryce needed her to know that he was being legit. It was important to him that she knew that about herself. Maybe she could reel it in and let him have control over himself for once.

There wasn’t a name for what they were--a fact that Bryce was okay with. At least he thought. Right now they were just comfortable in one another’s company. It’s not that he didn’t want more...the question crossed his mind more than once. But Aurora never once hinted at the fact that she was looking for anything more than companionship. She was blunt. If she wanted something serious, she definitely would’ve said so. Unfortunately, Edenbrook was filled to the brim with nosy fucks. And though he wasn’t necessarily one for hiding his attraction, he knew for a fact that the attention made Aurora uncomfortable. On more than one occasion, he had to tell people to back off when they made comments about “thawing the ice princess.” He would do anything in his power to protect her, if he could. He spent two months of Fridays with her, a ritual that just kind of happened without much planning. They’d talk for hours, and more than once he’d woken up in her bed, with his arms wrapped around her and her head on his chest.

So when Aurora texted him that Friday afternoon about a change of plans, curiosity plagued him.

Bryce: Change of plans, huh? What’s up?

Three bubbles popped up. And then:

Aurora: I wanted to do something different. Same meeting place?

Bryce: Always.

Bryce: Am I allowed to know what that something different is? Or is it a surprise?

Aurora: It wasn’t a surprise.

Aurora: But now I think it is.

Bryce: You’re killin me. Do you know what you do to me, Rory?

There was a long pause as she typed. And then stopped. And then typed again.

Aurora: Where have I heard that before? ;)

And there it was. That boldness that seemed to show up at the most inopportune times and sent a rushing wave of warmth through him. It climbed up the back of his neck and made him huff out a sigh in the middle of the cafeteria.

Bryce: Careful, I might have to take you for a ride in the parking lot. Again.

Aurora: Don’t make threats you can’t follow through with, daddy.

Despite the bravado, Bryce was clearly flustered. He didn’t know it was possible for someone to out-Bryce him. But here he was: red faced and shifty-eyed in the middle of a crowded room. He placed his phone face-down and took a long sip from his water bottle, willing his blood to return to his brain and away from his head. When he was sure that he could resume the conversation without hunting Aurora down for sport, he picked the phone back up.

Bryce: Alright, Miss Emery. I’ll play your games. See you later?

Aurora: xxoo

It was all so corny, he thought to himself. Reading and re-reading her texts, or scrolling through her Instagram to see her even when she wasn’t around...these were actions that he had NEVER considered remotely Bryce-like. Yet there he was, spending his free time thinking about what he’d say to her when he saw her at the end of the day. Thoughts of her were interrupted only when he needed all of his attention to keep people’s organs in place. Or when he needed to write a report. But when all was said and done, his thoughts drifted right back to her. He blinked, and it was the end of the day. He felt his hands shake, and wondered what the fuck he had to be nervous about.

They’d spent so much time together. They were practically together. Weren’t they?

“God damn it,” he muttered to himself, as he ran his fingers through his hair and stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. It always looked good, but for some reason--today of all days--it wouldn’t cooperate, “You are Bryce Fucking Lahela. You don’t get flustered. Jesus.”

He shook his arms out, rolled his shoulders, and took a deep breath.

“Alright,” he sighed, “Let’s go see our woman.”

Aurora looked amazing leaning against the hood of his car. She was dressed in black jeans and a simple tee shirt, with her hair in a bun. But he wanted to kiss her right there in front of everyone, PDA be damned. Her face lit up when she noticed him, and he nearly tripped over his feet as he walked across the parking lot, causing him to pause his steps. Her brows furrowed in concern.

God she was so cute.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking in an attempt to save face. Because of course he did.

“Are you alright, Lahela?” She asked, raising a hand to his forehead, “You’re clammy.” Bryce gently grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it absentmindedly, resulting in a slow grin gracing her pretty features.

“I’m good. I just showered, so my hair is a little wet,” her fingers intertwined with his, and his voice caught in his chest. He cleared his throat, “I-uh...I didn’t want to smell like...well you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

She bit her lower lip and glanced over his shoulder before leaning up to place a small peck on his lips. It’d been something she’d done numerous times before. But today it felt different. He couldn’t place what the difference was, but as she pulled back from him, he leaned forward to kiss her again. She smiled against his lips, and placed a hand on his chest.

“Down boy,” she laughed, “save some of that energy for later on.”

His first thought was to say “fuck later on” and take her on the hood of his car. The louder second thought reminded him that she wasn’t going anywhere. That this was different. And he nodded, taking a mental step back.

“So what’s the surprise?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

His hands snaked around her and he rested his forehead on her shoulder. The action was surprisingly intimate, all things considered, “I hate when people say that.”

“You’d think it’d make you ask the question less, then.”

“Hardy-har, smartass.” When she reached up to scratch the back of his head with her nails, he groaned involuntarily and squeezed her, lifting his head to look up at her, “We need to get out of here, and fast.”

Something flashed across her features, and she raised a brow.

“Alright.”

The drive to this supposed secret was a long one. Using Aurora’s GPS directions, the trip led them down numerous winding roads, across a bridge, and through some trees. If he didn’t know any better, he’d guess she was leading him to his own demise. Maybe she was softening up by holding his hand while he steered. And badly singing along to some 90s pop song was just a plot to let his guard down. It was working. She could brandish a knife, and he wouldn’t even notice.

The final destination was a large clearing filled with parked cars, and a large screen projecting some early 00s movie trailers. People milled around, drinking and eating large buckets of popcorn.

“Well shit,” Bryce grinned as he pulled up to an empty spot between two standing speakers, “You brought me to a drive-in?”

Aurora was already unbuckling her seatbelt, “You said you never got to have a normal high school experience. So, I figured we’d make up for lost time. Only if you want to. If you think this is corny, we can do something else.” She paused and turned to him with wide eyes, “You don’t think this is lame, do you?”

Bryce cupped her face in his hands and pressed a loud smack of a kiss on her lips, “Rory, this is perfect.”

As they stood in line waiting to order movie snacks, he looked over at Aurora to find her deep in thought. Her brows were furrowed as she read the menu, and her lips were slightly pursed just begging to be kissed. She muttered something about the prices staying the same for 10 years, completely unaware of the effect she had on him just by existing. Knowing he had a preference for slashers, Aurora brought him to see a double-feature of Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer which were both favorites of his. He was surprisingly touched that she remembered. He assumed that she may have forgotten those throwaway comments he made. After all, he wasn’t used to people remembering the small details of his life, and he didn’t mention them often. He’d been working so hard for her trust that he didn’t even realize she’d been working to earn his as well, in her own Emery kind of way.

“Caramel corn?” She suddenly said, and he blinked at her in confusion.

“What?”

“Do you want caramel corn? Or kettle corn? I know you like mixing the salty and the sweet. So I’ll get cheddar,” she pointed at the menu, “And you can get the caramel. And we’ll just…” She made a weird gesture, insinuating mixing the two in a bucket. He randomly felt a pang in his stomach and he had to stop himself from doubling over.

Oh.

“Caramel is perfect,” Bryce said, throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer, “We can do whatever you want.”

Oh no.

She threw him a funny look, but shook her head and chuckled softly, “Okay then.”

Bryce followed her back to the car like a lost puppy, carrying the popcorn while she carried the slurpees, and he felt the pang in his stomach turn into a dull flutter. Seeing Aurora out of her element was something he had to learn to get used to. Within the walls of Edenbrook, she was perpetually serious. You’d be hard pressed to find her laughing or shaking from nerves. She remained calm and level-headed, always logical, and rarely sentimental unless she was with a patient. The first time he saw Aurora lighten up was when she was among their friend group. Though she seemed partially guarded, in hindsight, it was the first time Bryce saw her fully smile. He recognized that she was beautiful, even then. But there was something about the way that she had a smile reserved especially for him that made that smile pale in comparison. There, in the car, she shook the popcorn in a bag vigorously with the dorkiest grin on her face. He wondered if anyone else ever had the chance to see her like this, and he hoped to God they hadn’t.

“You’re gonna tear the bag, Rory,” he said, laughing along with her, “I’ve never seen someone so violent with popcorn. You should’ve just let me do it. With these arms,” he flexed and she rolled her eyes, “It would’ve taken a lot less time.”

“There’s a method to this,” she shook it one last time for good measure, “You don’t want a pile of one flavor at the bottom. It has to be evenly distributed, come on. You should know this.”

She unrolled the bag opening and tilted it in his direction, “See. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re the genius here.”

“Thank you.” She popped a piece of caramel corn in her mouth.

One thing Aurora failed to share with him was that she was afraid of slashers. She clung to his arm during the tense scenes, hiding her face in his shoulder and jumping when people were killed. During the low moments, Bryce would pull her close and whisper film facts to her, hoping that the realism would make the movies a little more palatable. As the time passed, she relaxed, leaning back into the seat and only slightly jumping when someone died. Her hand slipped into his, and he could feel her pulse race. By the time I Know What You Did Last Summer was over, and Scream was about to begin, half of the popcorn was on the floor from Aurora constantly jumping.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t like these? We could’ve seen something else, Aurora,” Bryce asked.

She shrugged, scooping small handfuls of popcorn and throwing them out of the open window, “I work in a hospital. I thought I could handle it. Plus, I know you like them...I just wanted to do something fun.”

“I don’t think watching you freak out over a killer in a fishing village is fun,” Bryce half-joked, “Even though I did like having you curled up under me. That was a plus.”

She playfully hit him on his arm.

“I’m serious though,” Bryce said, turning to her, “next time, we can do something we both like.”

“I promise, it’s not that serious,” she shrugged, “I did this all the time in high school. It’s par for the course.”

He felt the uncharacteristic sting of minor jealousy, but quickly pushed the feeling away.

“So you just brought cute guys to the drive-in all the time? I didn’t know teen Aurora was such a player.”

She snorted and shook her head, taking a large sip from her slurpee, “Never that. I was in the science club and boys scared me. I came here with my friends. Maybe my parents.” There was a moment of pause and she swirled the straw around in her cup, “You’re the first guy I’ve ever been here with. So I guess this is like a high school redo for me, too. So...thanks for coming here with me.”

Her voice sounded so soft, and he realized she was sharing more about herself without him having to reassure her that it was safe to do it. Without thinking, Bryce leaned across the passenger seat and kissed her, pulling a soft gasp from her lips. His large hand cupped her chin, and she walked her fingers around the back of his neck. She tasted like Blue Raspberry syrup and smelled like sweet coconut and vanilla shampoo. When she pulled away and rested her forehead against his, she smiled at him and pushed some loose hair away from his face.

“What was that for?”

“I just felt like it. I don’t know. I…” he swallowed hard and shut his eyes, “I think…”

Fuck.

He opened his eyes to see her watching him with a concerned expression on her face, “You think…? Did I do something--”

“I think I love you, Aurora.”

#playchoices #bryce lahela #aurora emery #bryce x aurora #naja writes #get into it (yuh) or whatever Doja said

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written-on-the-trees · 4 years ago

Text

Do You Have A Name, Or Can I Call You Mine? - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction

Word Count: 2550 words

Warnings: None

Summary: Colson gets the phone call he'd hoped for, and more. There are more bad pick-up lines.

Where else can you find this: Ao3 | Wattpad

Colson grinned down at his phone, unable to hide the expression when he saw the screen light up from another message from Rosie, knowing full-well it was another cheesy pick-up line.

She sent one every on her lunch break, usually when Colson was just getting out of the apartment they were renting for the week, and he always sent one back. It was a bit dumb - real high-school childish shit - but he'd be lying if he said he didn't fucking love it, if only because it was an excuse to talk to Rosie.

They hadn't had a chance to talk on a call yet; they seemed to have opposite schedules, with her finishing work around four in the evening, just when his day was really beginning, and he was still passed out in the morning before she started work at eight. Still, he didn't think they went more than twelve hours without messaging each other, and he liked her enough that he'd even mentioned her in passing to Casie when they'd spoken, telling her the story of how he'd met Rosie

His daughter had rolled her eyes and told him not to embarrass himself and more than he already had with his bad pick up lines, only to be horrified when Colson told her Rosie found him funny, and had some awful pick-up lines of her own. The faux-fear on Casie's face as she'd whispered that now there were 'two of them now' had made him laugh so hard his jaw hurt...and gave him a little bit of hope that he and Rosie could make something work.

MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I would take you to the movies, but they don’t allow snacks.

That's what the kids are calling each other these days, right? A snack?

Woman, I am thirty years old.

I have no idea.

God I feel old. I called someone a hunk the other day, and Grace actually asked me what I was talking about.

Oh yeah? Was that someone me?

I couldn't say.

It was a pretty standard chat for them - but it still gave Colson butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

After a few days of messaging, the bad pick-up lines and chat had progressed into flirting, and now both of them were dancing around each other, trying to work out how serious the other one was...at least Colson was. He'd admit, it was a little bit weird to be the one feeling like they were chasing, and he was pretty sure he didn't like it. He was second-guessing what he messaged to her, over-thinking about what she messaged him, and generally giving himself anxiety over manning up and just telling her he wanted more than exchanging texts.

Logically, he knew it shouldn't be that hard; he'd literally been speaking for her for four days, if she told him to fuck off, then it wasn't like he was losing someone who'd been in his life for years. It shouldn't be this hard to just say what he felt. But everytime he typed it all out, he ended up deleting it.

He'd stopped even trying.

If you say so. Honestly, I've got other worries.

I lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you tonight?

I know you can't hear me, but I just groaned. Audibly.

The kids I have in detention are so confused.

As stressed as he was over confessing his feelings to Rosie, that was enough to make him chuckle under his breath. The juxtaposition of Rosie, the badass looking woman he'd met at a venue bar, and Miss Barnes, the secondary school history teacher, was utterly hilarious to him. He just kept picturing her standing in front of a whiteboard in her fishnets and leather miniskirt every time her job came up...and whenever he got into the shower.

Sorry, Miss Barnes.

Fuck off.

Chuckling, Colson slid his phone into his pocket and let himself into the studio he was recording at.

He was determined to finish early today; he might not get done by four, but he was hoping to get out in time to ring Rosie before he went out tonight. Maybe he couldn't work up the courage to tell her how he truly felt, but that didn't mean he didn't want to speak to her. If anything, he was hoping hearing her voice might give him the kick in the pants to come clean.

He was keeping his fingers crossed.

MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I know this is a bit short notice, but can we call?

Yeah, course. Everything okay?

Colson waited to see if Rosie would message back, only for her number to flash up as she skipped messaging just to call him.

"Hey, you alright?"

'I'm good. Friday's are rough.' Rosie sighed, sounded exhausted, even though it was only quarter past twelve: 'For once I didn't have anyone in detention so I've locked the door and now I'm hiding in the cupboard at the back of the classroom.'

Colson let out a low whistle: "That does sound rough."

'It's not that bad. I stuck an old desk chair in here and I have a phone charger and a bar of chocolate.'

"I meant the fact that you're hiding in a cupboard, but I'm happy you're happy in there." Colson snorted, hearing Rosie chuckle softly in return: "What on earth did the kids do to drive you this insane?"

'Ah, it's just the time of year. No-one wants to pay attention on a Friday, and next week is the last week before they get a week off for half-term, so all the kids have turned into monsters. Well, bigger monsters than they usually are.' Rosie sighed, before audibly cheering up: 'But I didn't call to bitch about my job; I called because I wanted to speak to you. And because I think I have found the best chat-up line ever.'

"Oh yeah?"

'I am going to complain to iTunes about you not being this week's hottest single.'

Colson laughed so hard that Rook poked his head through the door of the kitchen, looking confused. Colson shook his head, making Rook raise his eyebrows, only backing out when Colson flipped him off with his free hand.

He was definitely going to bother Colson about this later, the nosy little shit, but for now Colson couldn't bring himself to care about anything other than the way Rosie was laughing at her own joke. It was fucking adorable; she sounded so happy with herself for making him laugh, it made his chest feel a little tight. She was literally the best thing to happen to him this year, and he was already so attached that he didn't want to lose her.

The sudden realisation made him bold - he couldn't keep chickening out of talking to her. He had to tell her how he felt.

"I mean, that's good. So good I'm not sure mine is going to stand up to it."

'Well, we'll never know if you don't say it.'

"Wanna grab a coffee...because I like you a latte." Colson took a deep breath: "I suppose, to make up for it not being as funny as yours...I could tell you it's a serious offer?"

The only response was silence.

Colson was ready to take it back, only for Rosie to clear her throat: 'Like...a date?'

"Yeah, like a date." Colson agreed: "I mean, it doesn't have to be coffee. We could go for dinner; there's this cool restaurant that's meant to be good, or we could go do something fun, or - "

'Dinner would be nice.'

Colson's heart stopped.

She agreed to dinner. She agreed to dinner!

"That's great!" Colson swallowed, feeling the same anxiety that Rosie sounded like she was feeling, and wanting to get away from it and focus on the excitement building in his stomach: "Because you know what’s on the menu? Me 'n' u."

Rosie groaned, but he could hear her trying not to laugh as she did so: 'That was so bad...but it was also amazing, so it's a date. Literally.'

"It's a date."

'I can't wait.'

"Me either. I'll see you Friday."

Goddamn...

Colson saw Rosie before she saw him, standing just inside the front door to the restaurant they'd agreed to meet at, all lit up by the soft yellow-white fairy lights strung that hung in a curtain against the wall behind her. She looked like a fucking dream: in a modest black dress that she somehow managed to make look scandalous, the material hugging every inch of her, even though it covered her from neck to wrist to just below her knees. With bright red lips and scarlet shoes, Colson wasn't sure he wanted to share the sight of her with all the other guys in the restaurant. He was already half-ready to punch the dude at the front desk, who was staring at her ass while her back was turned to him.

Instead, he quickened his pace. The sooner they were seated, the sooner that guy could fuck off and eye-fuck some other woman.

Even though he was pissed, the look on Rosie's face when he opened the door was more than enough to calm him down: "Colson! Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you look magically delicious."

Just like that, the anger was replaced with laughter: "Damn it, that was good. You keep making jokes like that, and I'm gonna think you're a campfire - because 'cos you’re hot and I’m going to want s’more."

Rosie laughed, and allowed him to pull her in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tightened his around her waist. He made sure to glare at the dude who'd been staring at her ass, even though he was now looking utterly disgusted by their exchange of cheesy pick-up lines, but mostly he got distracted by the smell of Rosie's perfume. It was a new one on him, but he was pretty sure he was already addicted to the muted citrus and almost peppery smell of it.

They reluctantly pulled apart - and Colson was thrilled that Rosie seemed just as reluctant as he was - but remained in contact by holding hands as they walked up to the little podium thing, where ass guy was currently looking down his nose at them.

"Do you two have a reservation?"

"Yeah, for two, under the name Baker." Colson smirked, watching the guy's face drop.

Colson felt no remorse.

Ass guy called over a waitress and asked her to show him and Rosie to a table upstairs, before telling them to have a good meal. Rosie smiled, albeit coolly, making Colson wonder if she'd been aware of the jackass staring at her earlier, but Colson just smirked. He wasn't usually a dick to people; he'd worked at fucking Chipotle, he knew he wasn't better than anyone, but this dude was just asking for it. Colson wrapped an arm around Rosie's waist as they walked away, letting everyone in there know exactly who she was here with. They could eat their hearts out, he was the one lucky enough to get to sit down to have dinner with her.

Just the thought was enough to make Colson smile.

Rosie smiled back: "Oh, wow. Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?"

"Damn." Colson reached up to cover his smile with his hand, even though it was widening: "That was good. Not as much as the Lucky Charms one, but still good. Almost makes me wish I didn't ruin it by hating my smile so much."

"I try my best." Rosie winked: "And your smile is cute!"

"Almost as cute as you." Colson winked at her watching her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

Despite her blushing, though, Rosie wasn't lost for words: "Smooth."

"Yeah? How's this for smooth - are you Netflix? Because I could watch you for hours."

"Not bad...but not as good as roses are red, my face is too, that only happens when I’m around you."

Colson laughed.

Normally he liked having the last word, because the only thing he was more than mouthy was stubborn, and he wasn't ashamed of that...but something about going back and forth with Rosie made it more entertaining to just let himself stop looking for the next thing to say and just enjoy being truly present. There was no pressure from her for him to be edgy or sharp-tongued. Although she did seem to like him when he was, she also seemed to like him when he was spouting lame chat-up lines and being a dork.

It was impossible to put into words how good it felt to be able to relax. There weren't a lot of people Colson could let his guard down around, but in the short time he'd known her Rosie had already become one of them. With her, he felt like he could talk about what he was doing, without worrying that it was going to get back to someone it shouldn't or end up on the internet.

They talked about what he was doing in the studio, about her least favourite class to teach and how much she dreaded the last lesson on a Friday when she had them, about their family and friends and what was happening with them. Not once did Colson worry about anything he was saying or think about censoring himself. Nothing felt like stilted or forced - with Rosie, Colson was so engrossed in their conversation that he ordered and ate on auto-pilot, barely noticing anything other than Rosie. It was like she was the center of the universe tonight, and Colson couldn't keep his eyes off of her. It literally took the waitress coming over to ask if they wanted the cheque for Colson to realise that the restaurant was almost empty.

The waitress was all too happy to let them pay, hurrying them out the door as politely as possible, hovering as Colson helped Rosie into her jacket, and wishing them a goodnight as they headed for the stairs. They got out onto the street, standing close to the window to let the city pass them by as they spoke.

"Thank you for a really nice night." Rosie smiled: "The thought of this literally kept me going this week, and it was the best night I've had in a long time."

Colson felt his heart start to pick up, even as he tried to act onfident: "I'm glad it lived up to your expectations...I'm also glad you've been fantasising about me."

Rosie laughed: "You wish. Maybe I was just thinking about the dessert."

"In fairness, that passionfruit cheesecake you had was fucking amazing." Colson laughed back: "I'd dream about that."

"It was the best...well, except for you." Rosie smiled, her voice softening to something sweet and genuine: "I had a really nice time tonight, Colson."

"I did too. Honestly, I think you might be the best thing to happen to me all year...so, at the risk of ruining all of that..." Colson tailed off, leaning down to pause with his lips an inch from Rosie's: "Can I borrow a kiss? I swear I’ll give it back."

Rosie closed the gap herself, leaning up that last inch to press their lips together.

It was amazing.

#The Trees Writes #Machine Gun Kelly imagine #Machine Gun Kelly fanfic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fiction #MGK imagine #MGK fanfic #MGK fan fic #MGK fan fiction #Colson Baker imagine #Colson Baker fanfic #Colson Baker fan fic #Colson Baker fan fiction

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years ago

Text

Research Paper

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You and Tim get assigned to complete a research paper together. The two of you end up spending way more time together than originally planned. Warnings: Cursing and balls of fluff Word Count: 2k A/N: I still have a few requests, they are coming I just haven’t had too much time to write new stuff...so I’ve been posting old stories I’ve already completed.

The two of you sat at your dining room table, typing away at various research sites and scribbling down miscellaneous notes that could be helpful later. Finally, you looked up at your silent partner.

“So, why the rush to get this research paper done?”

“I’m busy. This is when I have time to do it.”

“Hm –” Before you could continue the thought, Tim cut you off.

“Look, I know you don’t want to be paired with the weird kid. Let’s just finish this and you don’t have to talk to me anymore.”

“Woah there Tim, relax. I don’t know anything about you. Especially not enough to qualify you as the weird kid.” You watched his face turn a slight shade of crimson. “Ya’know, there’s only 20 kids in this class. I bet if you actually talked to some of them you would make friends.” You got up from your seat and sauntered into the kitchen. “So weird kid, you want something to drink?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m fine.” You chuckled to yourself as he stuttered through his response.

“Well, if you insist on completing this in one night, I need some wine. Sure you don’t want a glass?”

“Okay…” Tim hesitantly responded.

The bottle was gone and you began to spiral down a YouTube worm hole. Clicking video after video, ending up on the ever popular topic of vigilantes. “Why do you think they do it?” You mumbled out loud, forgetting your research partner was still sitting across from you.

“Why does…” Tim tugged at your computer and glared at the screen before him. The video was paused on an image of Nightwing and Red Robin. He remembered that night. Mr. Freeze had armed some kind of mass freeze ray in the subway system. There were 5 casualties that night. His voice echoed throughout the room. “Sometimes the police aren’t enough. They have too much red tape or not enough training to handle certain criminals.”

“There’s just so many of them…”

“I think they need each other. Each one making sure the others don’t cross a line they can’t come back from. Keeping them responsible for their actions.”

“You think they aren’t just inherent do-gooders running around?”

“No. I don’t. This city is a toxin, no one born of it is inherently good. Everyone comes to a crossroads, some chose to go left and others, right. Once one goes to the left, you may never go back. However, those who chose to go right are always tempted to take a shortcut to the left. Even knowing they could never return.”

“Dang…you should write a book or something Tim.”

“Just a lot of experience I suppose?” You furrowed your brows and shot him a questioning look. “I was…uhm…rescued by Batman awhile back. Though not before my parents were poisoned.”

“I’m so sorry…” Your eyes cast to the ground as your hand reached across the table, landing atop of his. “I didn’t know.”

Tim brushed it off, “I didn’t expect you to know. I don’t advertise it. Anyways, how’s the ACTUAL research coming along.” You rolled your eyes and turned back towards your computer.

Tim realized he hadn’t heard from you in awhile, so he glanced up from his computer. You were asleep at the table. His eyes shot over to the clock, 4:07am. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath. Tim then sat there debating what to do for several minutes before pushing his chair back and taking you up in his arms. He laid you on your bed, draping the covers over you, before heading back into the dining room. Almost as soon as Tim sat back at his computer, his phone buzzed.

Don’t forget to get some sleep tonight, baby bird.

Dick had started sending reminders almost every night. Tim debated ignoring it, until more messages came in. Jason, Damian, Barbara, Stephanie, even Cassandra had texted him. Dick truly went all out tonight.

I swear if I have to listen to Dick complain about you not sleeping one more time, I will lose it. Go the fuck to sleep, replacement.

Drake, I was just informed to remind you to sleep tonight. May this serve as that reminder.

Dick just let me know you haven’t slept the past two nights. The body can only properly survive without three nights of sleep. Please sleep.

Timothy Jackson Drake. If you do not sleep tonight, I will be forced to take drastic action. One word: computer.

Don’t make me come knock you out.

Tim quickly sent a group message to everyone. Everyone calm down. It’s only been a day and a half. I’m going to sleep now. And Steph, don’t even look at my fucking computer. Tim sighed and threw himself on your couch, welcoming some much-needed sleep.

You woke up very confused. You glanced around your room, you definitely did not remember going to bed. You threw your legs over the side and noticed you were still completely dressed. What the fuck. Hesitantly, you opened your bedroom door. Your eyes darted around the room, noting the two computer still at the dining room table. Tip-toeing over to the living room, you saw Tim passed out on the couch, his phone buzzing beside him. You attempted to end the call, but it answered instead. Shit shit shit. You leapt as far from Tim as you could before whispering into the phone.

“Look I didn’t mean to answer this, but Tim is asleep…and he strikes me as the kind of person who doesn’t get much –” The man on the other end cut you off.

“I’m sorry, who is this? Why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“Oh…uhm…I’m in class with him. We were partnered on a research paper. He slept…is sleeping here.” You heard the man sigh before he continued.

“Do me a favor and try not to wake him, but tell him Dick called when he does get up.”

“Uh…sure…”

“Oh and put his phone on silent…actually I’ll just block the calls from here. Oh and thanks...I didn’t actually get your name.”

“Y/N.”

“Right, thanks again Y/N.”

You hung up the phone on the weirdest conversation ever and set it next to his computer. You snatched yours up and went back into your bedroom. Might as well get some work done while you waited for Tim to wake up. A few more hours passed and you heard footsteps coming from your living room. Thank god, I so need coffee. You threw open the door and saw Tim standing over his computer.

“Oh, uhm, sorry I slept here last night.”

You waved off the apology, “No problem. What time did we stop?”

“I noticed you were asleep at like 4 in the morning. So I…” Tim ran his finger through his hair, “I just figured the bed was more comfortable.” You smirked as you watched his face turn crimson. Stronger than he looks apparently. “Then I thought it was probably best not to leave that late…so I just crashed on the couch.”

“So we didn’t finish then? As in you better not have finished it without me.”

Tim held up his hands in defense. “No no, I stopped once I saw you were asleep.”

“Well…want coffee and some...” you glanced at the clock. It was nearly noon, “brunch I guess.”

“Oh, uh…if you’re offering? Then sure, I guess.”

“Great, then we can just finish up today.” You made your way to the kitchen, “Oh your brother called.”

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed, “which one?”

“You have multiple? Uh…Dick, I think he said.”

“Yeah, three of them. Do you mind if I call him back?”

You shook your head as you put on the coffee. Tim grabbed the phone from the table and went into your bathroom.

“Dick? Is something wrong?”

“Nah, Alfred just told me you hadn’t been back to the Manor yet. Wanted to make sure we didn’t need to send search and rescue.”

“I’m fine. Listen, do you mind if you cover my patrol tonight?”

“Oh, hot date with Y/N?”

“How do you – nevermind. No, we are finishing a project.”

“Hm, whatever you want to tell yourself Timmy. She seemed sweet on you though.”

“How – who even says that anymore? Are you 60 years old?”

“Awe, look who’s deflecting.”

“Bye Dick!” Tim screamed into the phone before hanging up on his brother.

After brunch was had, the two of you got back to work. However, it didn’t take long for you to get sidetracked.

“Alright, if I sit in this damn chair for another minute I’m going to have permanent back problems. I’m moving to the couch.” You huffed out, before scooping up your computer and plopping down sideways with your back against the armrest. Surprisingly, Tim joined you, propping is feet up on the coffee table. Once the two of you moved to the couch, no more work got done.

“So you close with your family?” You began the barrage of questions. People often called you out for being nosy, but you still couldn’t help it.

“Oh,” Tim glanced up from his computer. “Yeah, I suppose. Too close sometimes.”

“Eh, they wouldn’t be family otherwise. I gather you have a big one?”

“What are we playing 20 questions?”

“Just curious…”

Tim huffed, but began to answer your question anyways. “Yeah, I guess. Though it’s a family forged from bonds, not blood.”

“I’d say that’s the better kind. You chose to stay with and support them, as opposed to being guilted into it because they’re family.”

“Well that clearly struck a chord.”

You shrugged it off, “So three brothers. Blood or bond?”

��Well…a forced bond? Bruce adopted all of us, except Damian I guess.”

You continued to pose questions to your newfound friend, though you found getting most answers was like pulling teeth. Eventually, you made progress and after a few hours you closed your laptop, which had been long since asleep, and tossed it to the floor. “I vote take away and a movie.”

“But we haven’t finished.” Tim argued.

“And I don’t think we are going to tonight. Come on, we still have a month. Relax a little, we’re like 75% done anyways.”

“I –” Before he could protest further you pulled yourself off the couch and reached for your phone.

“I vote Thai.”

You heard a sigh come from the other end of the couch, “Sounds good.” A smile grazed your face as you placed the order and settled comfortably back on the couch. You turned on the movie and didn’t realize you were laying half on Tim until the doorbell roused you. This time it was your turn to don a shade of red. Thankfully, it was too dark for Tim to see.

The food was gone and the movie continued to play in the background, but the two of you were fast asleep laying against each other. That was, until Tim heard a knock on the window. He looked up to see the familiar costumes of his older brothers. He gently held you in place with one arm, while stretching to grab his phone with the other. Tim quickly typed a message.

I’m clearly alive. Leave me the fuck alone.

Tim saw Dick smirk through the window just before a bright white light shone through. Tim’s phone buzzed.

Look Timbers found someone to put up with him.

Of course Jason just had to send that in the group message. Tim typed out his response.

I’m muting this conversation until further notice. Also I’m never telling you guys where I am ever again.

That’s alright, I’m sure Y/N won’t mind telling me. We had a great conversation earlier.

Tim ignored the baited message Dick sent and threw his phone to the other side of the couch before settling back into the comfortable position at your side.

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Mine

5. Draw me like one of your French girls

Genre: Min Yoongi x oc

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.3k

At this point, I’m seriously considering commissioning my own fanart.

It all started the next morning at our first press release. Somebody had the bright idea to show me some fanart that’s been rolling in the past few weeks of a certain k-pop rapper and I. Not gonna lie...we look good together.

Too good.

Then again, everything about Min Yoongi has seemed pretty good since I woke up to a couple more texts from him this morning. I passed out after his late-night/early morning apology, but he sent another text not long after.

4:32 MYG: So does this mean I’m forgiven? Bong-cha made it sound like you enjoy holding grudges.

9:02 MYG: Morning. I hope everything goes well with you today...is it alright if I keep texting you?

9:02 MYG: Just so I can keep tabs on everything. I don’t want this to get too out of hand for you.

Obviously the poor man is just as worried about all of this as I am. I couldn’t help but give a sleepy chuckle when I woke up to his messages.

So far, I’ve done a wonderful job of ignoring how nice it felt to wake up to a good morning text.

I’ve also done a great job at keeping calm and breezing past any weird questions from the current press conference I’m in. That is, until a Korean reporter (I have a hunch they’re from Dispatch) pipes up not only with a question, but with visual aids!

“Cara, do you mind if I ask you a question? Would you like a translator?”

Reminding myself to be gracious and kind, I shake my head. “Go ahead. I should be alright without a translator, thank you.”

The reporter nods, shuffling forward until they pull a paper out of their file in hand. She gives me a sickly smile, passing the paper up to our security guard who does me the honor of bringing it right to my outstretched palm.

“This is one of the newest renderings, I was just wondering how you have been feeling about this entire situation?”

I already guessed what this was going to be about, but the picture in my hand confirms it.

It’s fanart.

To be honest, it’s very well done. It’s a watercolor, the artist placed us walking along a rainy sidewalk. Hand in hand, Yoongi’s gummy smile on full display while I look down at my toes.

Sebastian whistles beside me, clearly as in awe of the artwork as I am. Before me the reporter still wears her smile, waiting for a response. I pass the paper down the line, allowing Rhea to get a chance to admire the fanart.

Maybe it’s the boost of confidence I received upon reading Yoongi’s text this morning that has me grinning back at the reporter with a saccharine smile.

“Did you draw this? It’s very well done.”

Not everyone can understand Korean in this press conference, but the few that do start chuckling. The reporter blanches for a moment, smile faltering.

“N-no, but if you could answer the question-”

I’m sure I look very disappointed as I look down at her. She definitely works for dispatch; she practically reeks of it. Maybe that’s what gives me the boldness I need as I realize that I’m not even her direct target; Yoongi is.

Yoongi’s nice. I don’t think she is.

“Oh, everything is going fine. Honestly, I should get in touch with this artist. They’re very talented.”

The reporter’s eyebrows flick up, sensing a new method of attack. “Were you thinking of commissioning your own?”

“Honestly, I might consider it. Maybe it’ll make my aunts quit hounding me every Thanksgiving about my love life.”

With that, the paper is handed back to the security guard, but the reporter motions for him to keep it. Confused, he hands it back to me. I turn it over so I don’t get caught staring at it during the conference. That’s the last thing Yoongi or I need right now.

As the reporter takes her seat again, I can’t help but feel a little triumphant. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

🌙

12:22 ME: I never said you were forgiven, did I?

As soon as we get out of the press conference we are ushered into a van which takes us to another interview. I figure that now is as good a time as any to text Yoongi back, seeing that this morning I woke up late and was too flustered to come up with a response.

“Who are you texting?” Sebastian asks. “Is it your friend that always calls you?”

I consider lying to him for a moment, but realize that it might actually be nice for him to know. He can keep me from being unrealistic when I start to fangirl.

He may also help me to keep that promise I silently made a while ago: to not go so easy on Yoongi. Right now, it’s proving harder than expected to dislike him.

“Nosy.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’re grinning at your phone like an idiot, that only happens when you get texts from me.”

“Ha! Right. It’s a secret...kind of. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll try my best not to.”

Taking an unnecessarily big breath, I spill my secret that I’ve kept for approximately 12 hours.

“It’s Yoongi.” When there’s no immediate reaction from him, I backpedal. “Also known as Suga?”

Before Sebastian can respond the ping of my phone pulls my attention away.

12:26 MYG: Oh good, you responded. I was getting worried you were actually mad. So is it alright if I keep texting you? I don’t want to mess with your schedule.

“You’re smiling again.”

I look up to see an annoyed Sebastian Stan. He’s not very good at sharing attention, and it would appear that Yoongi is no exception.

“How strange, I didn’t realize.”

12:27 ME: That’s fine.

12:27 ME: But I am mad!!

12:28 MYG: Hahaha sure

“Cara, we’re here.” Sebastian says as he clambers out of the car. I follow after him, pocketing my phone.

There’s a few cameras outside waiting for us, but we’re able to make it inside the building without too much fuss. Once we make it into the room where we’re supposed to have one of our interviews, Sebastian pulls a paper out of his back pocket.

“What’s that?”

He smirks at me, unfolding the paper. It’s the fanart from earlier. I didn’t even realize that he’d pocketed it.

“Tell Suga I say hi, at least.” He poses with the papers just below his chin, giving the best puppy dog eyes he can muster up. It’s rather convincing, if I’m being honest.

“You weirdo,” I mumble as I snap a photo. I’m quick to send it off to Yoongi, captioning it.

12:37 ME: Sebastian says hello.

Our interviewer is just about to come into the room when I receive a response. Not having the self-restraint to put my phone away, I quickly take a look. Sebastian peers over my shoulder, curious as well.

12:40 MYG: Winter Soldier!!!

12:41 MYG: Hi. Did he draw that?

I cackle, quickly translating the message. Sebastian looks appalled. “I have better things to do than draw fanart!”

“Yeah, like write fanfiction, right?”

He grins at me. “Obviously.”

12:42 ME: No, but he says he’s writing fanfiction.

12:42 ME: We’re about to start an interview rn but I’ll tell him to send you his rough draft later. 😏

Interviews pass, and it isn’t until I’m finishing up dinner that my phone pings with another message from Yoongi. I nearly impale Sebastian with my fork as I lunge for my charging phone; he’d come into my hotel room to eat dinner with me.

“Watch it!” Sebastian grunts, shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate. We were promised lunch by Rhea earlier but it ended up just being a small snack as she was whisked away by a long-lost friend. The two of us managed to control our hunger for as long as possible, but Sebastian wasted no time calling up some food for us before we even got back to the hotel.

We barely beat the delivery boy here. He wasn’t all that surprised that we were American. Sebastian had tried out some very choppy Cantonese. What did end up surprising him was that he was delivering a meal to the Winter Soldier. I was able to sneak into my room undetected while the boy’s eyes were bugging out as Sebastian signed his hat.

“Sorry,” I mumble around my food.

9:12 MYG: I’m still waiting for the rough draft.

I translate the message to Sebastian, who cackles and promises to get started on it as soon as possible.

9:14 ME: Sorry, Sebastian said he’s still trying to write it. I’ll let you know when it’s ready!

9:15 MYG: That’s alright. I’ll be patient.

9:15 MYG: I saw a clip from your press conference today.

My stomach lurches as I realize what clip it was that he probably saw. Does he think I’m some crazy fangirl now? I mean, I might be. But he doesn’t need to know that.

9:18 ME: I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?

Sebastian notices my change in expression and shoots me a worried look. “Everything alright?” I shrug.

“Yeah...I just hope I didn’t get him in trouble with what I said at the press conference today. I think that reporter was trying to go against him somehow.”

“He’s a big boy. Did he say anything about it?”

I look back down at the messages even though I already know what he said. My stomach lurches again as I see the three little dots at the bottom of the screen.

“No, not really. He just said he saw a clip or something. He’s typing right now, though.”

9:20 MYG: I thought I was the worrier. No, you didn’t. How was the rest of your day?

“What’d he say?” Sebastian grabs our cartons of food, tossing them into the wastebasket.

“He’s just…”

“Are you blushing?!” My friend stares at me from across the room, eyes wide. “No way! You like him!”

“No! No I don’t!”

“Yes you do, don’t lie to me! You’re so into him!” Sebastians hurries back over grinning wide. “Wow, he must be a good texter.”

That really is helping my blush. “Nooo, he’s not. He’s just nice. That’s it. It’s just fun having someone nice to talk to, you know? He feels really bad about everything and - Sebastian quit it - and it’s just sweet of him to care. That’s it.”

Sebastian stops looking at me with his puppy dog eyes and leans back in his chair, a contemplative look overtaking his features. “I thought I was nice to talk to.”

I pause for a second, breath getting caught in my throat. “Y-you are. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He shakes his head, giving me an award-winning smile. “No, I know. Aren’t you going to respond?”

“Oh! Yeah!” I focus on my phone again. There’s an uneasy feeling rising in me at Sebastian’s comment, but I brush it off for now. He’s always been bad at sharing his friends. He’s the same with Anthony Mackey, I’ve seen it up close.

9:25 ME: True, I’ll let you worry. My day was good, just finished up dinner. How was yours?

��There, I-” I look up proudly only to find Sebastian’s chair empty and the door clicking shut. “...I did it.”

MYG: It was great. Got lots of work done.

MYG: Have you decided if you’re going to come to the festival or not? Also, Bong-cha says hi.

ME: Wow, she can’t even tell me herself. No respect. No, I honestly didn’t even think about it today...but I’m pretty sure we’re all going either way.

MYG: Haha she’s not happy with your comment.

MYG: She’s reading over my shoulder, I promise I’m not reading our conversation out loud. Is your director making you go?

I just miss the chance to respond as my phone lights up with an incoming call.

“Bong-cha, quit reading my conversations you little weirdo.”

“Hey, how’s it going with you? I’m great, thanks for asking.”

“Are you still in the room with everyone?”

“No, just left. You should see Yoongi right now, though.”

“Why?”

“He looks like a kid in a candy store every time he gets a text from you. It’s adorable.”

“Yah!”

My friend’s cackle soars through the phone, and I swat at the air as though I could somehow get her to stop.

“Please tell me you guys are coming to the festival.” Bong-cha’s sudden change in tone has me pausing, chewing on my lip.

“We are. Why?”

“Come stay with me!” Bong-cha shouts. I jump up, a grin already working its way onto my face. “It’ll be just like old times. And, I was looking at the schedule you sent me...there’s a couple of nights where you’re done relatively early. We could go do something fun!”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. My phone is buzzing with incoming texts, but I ignore them for now. “Yeah, that’ll be fun. I’m not sure if I can come stay with you-”

“C’mon,” Bong-cha whines. “I never get to see you anymore. We’ll make it work! Oh, I’ve gotta go, Tae brought Yeontan. But let me know!”

With that, Bong-cha cuts the line and leaves me on the other side caught between excitement at seeing my friend and dread at having to come face to face with Yoongi. Texting is one thing; but actually spending time with him?

“Just be his friend,” I mumble to myself. Settling down, I attack my food once more. The space where Sebastian sat before makes me furrow my brows.

What’s going on with him? I mean sure, we’re really good friends. But we still see each other constantly, why would he be so possessive?

It’s probably all just in my head. My phone light up with the texts I received a couple of minutes ago while I was still on the phone, and this time I physically cannot restrain the smile that comes through as I realize Yoongi is still texting me.

MYG: Really no pressure about the festival. I know Bong-cha really wants to see you, but please don’t feel like you have to come and hang out with us.

MYG: We’re not even that cool, anyways.

MYG: Are you just hanging out with Sebastian tonight??

I stare down at my phone for a moment, the smile being wiped from my face. Plopping down heavily on my bed, I close my eyes and power off my phone.

Yoongi is nice. So nice, apparently, that I can’t even tell now if he’s trying to get me to stay away. The fact is simple: he’s a nice man who has a reputation to uphold and is trying to keep everyone happy. That includes me.

He’s nice for texting me and trying to make sure I’m doing alright. Any decent human being would do that. But there’s also the fact that I’m new to this game in the spotlight and I know that I’m not going to be able to keep my feelings out of this.

I take a moment to breathe, forcing myself to push away the impending panic that sets in. This is no way to live, and I know that I’m only setting myself up for heartbreak when someday I don’t wake up to a good morning text from Yoongi.

It’s only been one day of communicating and I can already feel myself getting too attached.

Powering on my phone again, I flinch at the new texts.

9:17 MYG: Bong-cha just told me her evil plan. 😩 Did she tell you about it on the phone?

9:31 MYG: Sorry if you’re busy! Just text me back when you can. Let me know about your plans for the festival, too.

Even though I’m itching to text him back and waste away the rest of the night talking to him, there’s another more pressing matter I have to face. Quickly getting up and leaving my phone there in order to fight the temptation, I grab my room key and head a few rooms down. A quiet knock and a few seconds later and Sebastian is opening up his door.

He looks down at me warily, and I feel almost like we had a fight because of the way he’s looking at me. Emitting a loud sigh, he shakes it off and grins down at me in a way that makes me question if I even saw the previous expression at all.

“Hey,” I mumble out weakly. Moving past him into his room, he follows silently behind me.

“Hey…?”

Without another word I land face first onto his bed, the action pulling a laugh from him. Good. His laugh reminds me that this is real. This friendship is real, and Sebastian for all his annoying teasing, is a true friend.

Bong-cha is miles away and busy. She’s also biased. So Sebastian is the next best thing.

“I’m freaking out,” the pillow muffles my words but I know he hears me loud and clear. The mattress dips on one side as Sebastian settles onto it, and a moment later a hesitant hand begins kneading the flesh at my shoulders. I let out a satisfied sigh.

“What’s going on?” His tone is gentle, and the sound of it nearly tugs some tears out of my eyes.

“I’m pathetic, Sebastian.” I clutch his pillow and bury my face farther into it. “I’m so pathetic! I’ve literally never met the man before in my life, and I’ve spent the last 24 hours sending a few texts back and forth and I already feel like I’d jump off a cliff for him!”

Sebstian’s hands pause in their kneading for a fraction of a second before continuing on. “I told you you liked him.”

I turn to look at him, and again I catch that wary gaze before he drops it. “Really? ‘I told you so’? Rude. I need help, Sebastian. It’s never going to happen, he’s just being nice, and I just need to be cordial and get through this. Right?”

He nods, contemplating a bit. “Sure. He seems like a great guy. But at the end of the day, the two of you are just caught up in a weird media frenzy and that’s it. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I guess.” I huff, flipping onto my back as I stare up at the ceiling. “Why do I like him though? Am I just desperate?”

Sebastian stands up and laughs. “No way. If you were desperate you would be falling for me, not some inconvenient, crazy famous kpop star.”

Somehow his words make me laugh, the feeling easing the panic a bit. “You’re right, I guess.”

🌙

I end up passing out in Sebastian’s room only to wake up at 3 am and find myself a little too close for comfort to my co-star. Gently untangling myself from his mess of arms and legs, I sneak out of his room and back to my own.

Half-asleep and looking the part, I groan at my reflection in the mirror as I try to brush my teeth. Pointing at my reflection with my toothbrush, I give myself a pep talk.

“You are not pathetic,” pause to spit, “you’re not desperate,” rinse out the brush, “you’re just friendly. You’re practicing making new friends, and Yoongi as well as all of BTS are a part of that. That’s it.”

So when I finally settle down into my cold and very empty bed, I don’t feel very guilty sending Yoongi a late-night text. He never texted me again after the last one I saw, and I easily brush off the feeling of disappointment and replace it with relief.

3:13 ME: Yeah, we’re going. No, I have no idea what the evil plan is. Do we need to come up with a counter-plan? And sorry I never responded...I was busy annoying Sebastian and left my phone in my room. Good morning! This is payback for your late texts last night!

I fall asleep easily after that, double checking that my phone is on silent before snuggling deep down into my pillows.

Honestly, what do I even have to worry about? Everything is going great with promotions, the movie is finished and should be well received, and in a couple of days I’ll get to go see Bong-cha and make new friends!

Into the silence, I can’t help but laugh. I’m not dumb enough to believe that everything will go as planned.

Especially not as my dreams take over and the only thing I can dream of is a man in a black suit, turning around to greet me over and over again. I can never quite see his face, but somehow I know him.

Even in my unconscious state, I lie to myself and say that it’s not Min Yoongi.

Previous - Next

Taglist is open! Ready to head to Seoul next time?

taglist: @taylorroe3 @eusticenatalie @agustneeds @oceandeep @prdshobi

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soulwillower · 4 years ago

Text

if you’re too shy • richie tozier

(richie tozier x cam girl!reader smut)

[based off the song if you’re too shy (let me know) by the 1975.]

requested: i can't find it lol BUT 🤍anon (i think) requested a fic based off of the 1975′s new song, if you’re too shy let me know !!

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, switch!richie kinda, smut, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of cumplay i guess, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, a bit of dirty talking, UNEDITED as always

also i wrote this in a different style than usual and idk if i like it much but u can let me know what u guys think,, if its weird i can go in and change the povs since its 3rd person richie

[losers + reader are 21+ in this.]

7.4k words lol

♡

i see her online all the time i'm trying not to stare down there while she talks about her tough time

"h-hey, man, who's that?" the voice from right next to richie makes him damn near leap out of his seat. it makes beverly chuckle a bit as she takes a bite of her apple, shaking her head. "it’s nobody." richie says quickly as he tilts his phone towards his chest and shoots a toothy grin to bill. his friend raises his full eyebrows, "wh-what, so n-nobody was sending you n-nudes?"

"something like that." richie mutters, stomach fluttering as the image flashes in his mind’s eye - the curves, the dark red lace, the plush skin painting a perfect scene in richie’s vivid imagination.

richie looks back down at the photo. his his thumbs hover over the profile picture; he'd found her originally on his instagram explore page, the photos teasing and immediately he had to know more. y/n.

and then a few days later, he'd subscribed to her only fans, which he never quite thought he'd do with anyone, but he couldn't help it. she was so enticing, so perfect and so alluring. it was the playfulness that pulled him in; and he swears he's never lusted after somebody like he has with her. it was kind of starting to freak him out.

"is that o-onlyfans?" bill says and richie shoves bill's nosy face off his shoulder with a panicked grunt. "fuck off, mushmouth."

bill laughs and stan and bev perk up from across the table, staring at the two, interests suddenly piqued. "did you subscribe to a girl's onlyfans, rich?" stan says with a grin, setting his pen down on his notebook.

richie just smirks and wiggles his brows a bit, enough to confirm his question. bill chuckles from next to richie.

"let me see." bev says, wiggling her manicured nails in a "gimme" motion. richie hands his phone over with red cheeks. normally he wouldn't care about his friends discovering he's paid money just to see a hot chick's bod, but this was different. for some reason, he felt connected to her. god, that thought made him want to slam his head against a brick wall. she doesn't even know him, for all he knows she could live in the middle of.... montana, or like, ohio.

bev whistles and stan nods, "if i looked like that," bev mumbles as she tosses richie's phone back towards him, "i'd do that too. mad props."

noises of agreement fill the table but richie's just looking at the small smirk that peeks from the corner of one of the photos and he can't help but wonder what her eyes are like in real life. he wishes he could meet her.

girl of your dreams, you know what i mean there's something 'bout her stare that makes you nervous and you say things that you don't mean

it's a cold day when bill and richie find themselves stumbling in to the coffee shop for a drink. bill's muttering about some girl in his creative writing class that gave him head when richie's eyes catch a figure so familiar yet foreign that he stops dead in his tracks. bill turns to him, face confused. "r-richie, what's wrong w-with you?"

richie shakes his head, stammering in disbelief, "that-that's her, bill. the girl, from onlyfans. y/n." he whispers, gesturing with his eyes towards the girl working the register.

bill’s jaw goes slack, green eyes raking over her form and igniting richie’s stomach with boiling rage. as if bill’s doing something that only richie is allowed to do – as if they're not both being total creeps.

“h-holy sh-shit. she’s b-beautiful.” bill mumbles. richie elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare that prompts an eye-roll from his auburn haired friend.

richie swallows and watches, his throat feeling like sandpaper as she laughs at something the customer in front of them said. bill nudges richie, "i-i'm gonna get a s-seat. t-talk to her."

he winks and grins as he walks away, leaving richie with his reckless self. he thinks he's sweating through his sweater as he walks up, finding himself face-to-face with her. "hi, how can i help you?" she asks, giving him a smile

holyshitholyshitholyshit.

he might've just came right then and there. okay, he's gotta say something cool, something smooth. don't be a dumbass, tozier.

"howdy, sugar. i'll have my coffee like i like my women." his mouth blurts as his brain sirens go off, PUT ON THE BRAKES, RICH – "a hot shock to the lap.”

she glares at him, cheeks light pink and eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and yep, richie's probably going to get hard because of that look but he's also probably going to toss his body off a bridge because what the fuck, tozier?

he can hear bill laughing quietly from a ways away and he quickly shakes his head, muttering quietly, "jail. jail, richard."

"funny." she deadpans, clearly not amused. because of course she isn't.

"sorry, i'll have a black coffee, y/n." he mutters, eyes widening to himself when he realizes she was not wearing a goddamn name tag and he just said her name.

this is a disaster. she gives him a bewildered, slightly creeped out look and if richie wasn't panicking, he'd gape at how she still managed to be effortlessly gorgeous even now.

he sighs, shaking his head, the door of the cafe opening and blowing a gust of frigid air through the warm room. fitting - douche chill.

"look, toots, i don't want this to be weird. i- um, i recognize you." he says, cheeks aflame. she raises a brow, face straight for a few moments, unsure what he means.

it's not long after when recognition flashes over her own face - must have ruled out coffee shop, university and her local gym - and she nods with a tight, almost uncomfortable smile.

he tries not to think of the livestream he watched last night where she showed all her new gifts and modeled lingerie, and how he’d spent his time to himself with his left hand immediately after watching. his cheeks are red with shame.

"okay." is all she says, writing down a scribbled order on the coffee cup. her eyes shoot back up and give richie a once-over that really makes his fingers itch - god, why did he have to be this way?

he almost runs his fingers through his curls but decides against it, eyes opting to focus on her own gorgeous eyes as they meet him. "i'm impressed i have a fan who looks like you, i must say. even if you are a complete jack ass." she purrs and his jaw nearly smacks the floor at its velocity as it flies open.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks then with a small grin, flattered at the tiniest of compliments that just barely, in his mind, eclipsed the insult that he so very much deserved.

"i'm saying you're kind of a dick. it's too bad, because you're real cute." she says casually, handing him his change. his stomach flips and butterflies release in his chest, a feeling that he's not felt in almost five years.

but damn, of course he messed up - he got the chance to talk to the hottest girl on earth and he started it by saying an awful joke that wasn't funny at all. of course she though he was a dick, he is one.

he's shocked, though, as he waits for his coffee with bill, who is still snickering into his hand every few moments, to find his coffee cup with extra sharpie scribbled on the white paper. a name.

y/n. and below it is a phone number with a small heart scribbled, and richie can't tell if it's a seven or a one but he figures he'd try every phone number in the damn state if it meant he could fucking text her. holy fuck.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking if you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

he didn't text her for two days and three hours. yes, he counted it. no, he won't think about why he was obsessing over the numbers - but since the time he'd finally had found the courage to text her today, things have escalated proficiently.

she'd just mentioned how hot it was in her apartment since her heater had gone haywire - even though the winter winds were cold, she'd claimed she was burning up in what she was wearing.

and the mere mention of her clothing had sent richie into somewhat of a spiral, spending at least seven minutes glued to his phone and scrolling through the saved album he had of those photos of her that she'd posted; his sweatpants getting increasingly tight and his palm suddenly aching to slip through the fabric and find some release.

but, in true trashmouth fashion, he apparently needed that sweet, sweet rejection from a hot cam girl he'd somehow weaseled into getting the number of in order to wank off properly, so he types out a text and hits send immediately.

what are you wearing?

and then he almost vomits in embarrassment – what was she going to think? did he just royally fuck up? oh god, he’s going to have to shave his head and move to canada.

his phone buzzes and he nearly passes out when he lays his eyes upon the image attached – there her body is again, curvy and full and beautiful, her skin glowing in the fading light of what he assumes is her bedroom. and with it:

this. what are you wearing, rich?

and then he pulls his gaze from his phone and stands, breathing heavily because holy shit.

he's gotten nudes before, but.... none from someone like her. holy shit.

he walks to his bathroom, splashing water on his beet-red cheeks. he swallows, staring at himself in the mirror. fuck.

he slaps his cheek once, then winking at himself in attempt to muster any sliver of confidence. and then he snaps a picture, only in his boxers.

and then he has to physically refrain from making a joke about wearing the same lingerie set as her, instead sending a flirty text that he knows any other woman would blush at. he just doesn’t know with y/n, and maybe that’s why he loves it so much. she's keeping him on his toes.

you like what you see?

he sends that one afterwards, shaking his head because oh my god, she's going to respond with "no" and then bill him $40 for the nude she sent him. not that he wouldn't pay, but...

his phone dings and he nearly breaks an ankle running to his desk.

yeah, i do. but maybe i'd like you better without any clothes on.

he almost yells out loud at this, but he has a feeling that waking up stan in the middle of the night would not be optimal after their 'roommate agreement' they'd made that explicitly states richie cannot scream between 1am - 9am. so instead he smirks to himself, face turning red.

he's getting harder by the moment, and as he stares at that picture she'd sent earlier, he lets out a breathy groan. the lace....

we could face time yk

or we don't have to.

he reads her words in live time, watching the thought bubble appear again and watching it like a hawk. he can just imagine her sitting there with a small smirk as another text comes in and he almost groans as his dick twitches.

like, if you're too shy or something ;)

he stares at the screen for two seconds at that sinful photo she'd sent just before those texts and then sighs, shaking his head and pressing the green face-time call button.

i've been wearing nothing every time i call you and i'm starting to feel weird about it sometimes it's better if you think about it this time, i think i'm gonna drink through it

three days later, richie was undeniably and unequivocally drunk. but, as he's just explained about three times to mike, he knows that it is just easier to not think right, especially about her, right now - and the best way to do that is by getting so piss drunk that even if he tried to "hit her line," as he so eloquently put it, his dick would be too whiskey'd out to make a full appearance.

it's for the best. mike had fake gagged at richie’s cadence with a laugh, but richie was dead serious because he was starting to think he had a real issue.

it was obviously just a fun thing to do between two near-strangers, but he'd found that he was starting to almost pavlov-style condition himself into getting turned on every time the name y/n came across his recent texts or face times, and it was getting to be too much.

especially when her post notification popped up and he cracked a fatty in the middle of his econ lecture. christ, the point of elasticity of markers in the u.s. was not something he pictured when he usually had to quell a pitch in his tent. so yeah, it's too much.

because yes, he loves her fucking body and wants nothing more than her, but in truth he longs for the feeling of her skin against his; to touch her, to kiss her, to make her his. all the time.

but yet, it was just a good way to get off without all the strings and ribbons and yarn and whatever the fuck her soft-looking knit bra is made from attached.

so much for not thinking about her.

but i see her online (and don't think that i should be calling) all the time (i just wanted a happy ending) and i'm pretending i don't care about her stare while she's giving me a tough time

it’s noon the next day and he's laying in (for some reason) stan's bed instead of his own with a blinding, mind-splitting headache and an insatiable craving for a cheeseburger, eyes squinting in lust and something akin to shame as he watches the livestream y/n had just started. she’s in a slip – a very thin, silk and see through slip and it makes him more frustrated than he’s willing to admit.

as he stares at her smooth skin and wonders how it'd be to touch it all, her eyes catch something in the chat and she smiles coyly. "hi, rich." she purrs and richie almost chokes - holy shit, she saw him join.

"do you like my gift i just got?" she asks coyly, snapping the straps of her bra with a small smile and he stiffens almost instantly, thinking of how many times he'd seen her skin in videos and photos that were just for him.

how she'd moaned his name two nights ago on face time, her fingers buried inside herself slightly off-camera. and oh, how he wishes he could see all of her, but they'd not crossed that line yet - anything they'd done hadn't been yet proven visually, only from facial expressions, noises, and the brutal honestly of being together through face time.

he wants her so fucking bad, he needs her like he needs water to drink and air to breathe and it's murdering him as he watches her react to the chat of her livestream, playing with the hem of her black lace panties.

god, he needs a cold shower or something if he's going to get anything done today.

and then he's calling her an a few hours after her stream ends because he just can't wait - he feels his stomach twist with shame as he realizes he should not be doing such a certainly a terrible idea. but she answers after three rings. "richie." her siren voice purrs and he literally feels himself fall deeper into the pit.

"hi there, toots. got any coffee in the pot for me?" he asks, sounding surprisingly eloquent compared to how she normally makes him feel.

she hums in fake thought, and it makes richie grin. she's fucking adorable. "come to the shop, i have my break in ten." and then she hangs up. he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand as he shakes his head. he's utterly fucked.

he's there in record time, a smirk plastered on his face as he walks in and sees her sitting at a table, lookin' all pretty. just for him.

"what made you think of calling?" she says in loo of a greeting. he sits across from her and wills his eyes to meet hers. "nothin' toots." he says with a half shrug, taking a sip of the coffee placed in front of him that has the the name 'dick' written on it in her handwriting. he rolls his eyes affectionately.

"oh, so it wasn't anything to do with my livestream this morning?" she asks with a look, eyeing him. her eyes are swimmable, they hold so many stories and secrets and maybe richie's just hungover, but he's feeling very flustered.

"we-w, uh, no. what... what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes at himself inwardly, cursing stuttering bill and his contagious speech patterns. "-i don't know what you're talking about, sugar." he recovers fairly smoothly, if he may toot his own horn. and honestly, he can pretend not to care as long as he doesn't look into that goddamn stare of hers.

he chuckles awkwardly, cheeks aflame as she stares at him with a bored look and a small hum. she still looks perfect and he's even more nervous now, because oh god, oh fuck, he's gonna get slapped in the face by y/n.

it was pretty unspoken since they'd started doing... stuff... that richie probably still watched her content online, but she'd never fully addressed it until today during the livestream in front of a thousand others.

he's choking on his spit in shame but then a smile splits her face and richie's sure he's suffocated on his own saliva and gone to a sinner's heaven. or maybe hell.

"oh, richie, i'm just teasing you. look at your face!" she says with an airy laugh, pinching his cheeks and making him want to shrivel up as he turns even redder. what the fuck? "-so cute. alright, i've got to get back to work. i'll see you around, rich." she says with a wink, taking her coffee and tossing it into the trash bin as she stalks towards the employee back room.

he gapes as he watches her leave and then gets up and makes his way to the exit, clutching the coffee like it was trying to jump out of his grasp and make a run for it. god, she's too much.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking If you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

"-babe, you'll have to try harder than that." richie says with a chuckle, watching his phone screen as the beautiful girl on face time gives him a sly, challenging look. she's in a green lace bra, one richie's not seen yet and he can feel himself stiffen as she absently trails her fingers over her chest.

they'd been much closer over the last week since he last saw her in person, enough so that in the three-is weeks of knowing her, he's positive he's head over ass for her in a way that he shouldn't be. and yet, she still comes back every time, still texts him and answers those face time calls. he's baffled, honestly.

"i know you hate me because i'm right." he adds, not even totally remembering what point he's trying to prove as y/n shifts back a bit and more of her body is revealed, her hair glowing dimly in the soft lighting of her room. his eyes run over her curves, her full thighs and stomach and hips that fill over her panties and he almost groans.

"whatever, maybe i'd like you better if you took off your clothes." she says coyly. and richie's half flattered, as usual, but the more he thinks of it the more deflated he feels. he kind of thought they were growing something more than just getting each other off over face time like horny fifteen year olds. he grins nonetheless.

"you say that a lot, you know." richie says breathlessly as he stares at her. she tilts her head ever so slightly and grins, biting her lip as her eyes move around her screen with a conflicted look. "-why?" he adds.

she hums again.

"well. okay, so there's the visual world - like, the internet, onlyfans, instagram- it tells us that everything is amazing. and we should want everything. and it makes us yearn for everything that we don’t have and everything that’s unobtainable. you know, love, a relationship beyond physical. and even physical, it's different when it's online."

her words confuse him much more than they aid him. "you think... that because of the internet, love is unattainable?" he asks with furrowed brows, unsure how somebody so perfect and, quite frankly, lovable, would think that.

"it is for me." she says it with a small sense of forlorning but mostly it's whispered. enough that richie's heart skips a beat and he's, for the first time, not having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face instead of her body.

"what?" he asks dumbly. she just laughs, shaking her head and he stares at her on his tiny phone screen in the dark.

"that’s something that, you know. in real life, person to person, it has a lot of connotations of... trust and vulnerability and connection. doing what i do- and what we're doing… on the internet - it has the opposite of those connotations. like, before you, i didn't- i didn't really do this, i just was selling stuff. because guys don't want to fuck the girl who sells her body online. and you know now, i want to..." she trails off and richie doesn't dare interrupt her because he thinks she's about to say something he's wanted to tell her for a while now.

"i don't know, i guess. exploring someone's body in physical presence isn't seen at all as voyeuristic, or anything apart from...like, an intimate exchange." she says it casually, brushing hair from her face and shit, richie's swooning. he's in fucking love, he knows it, because y/n is so smart and intelligent and he's so fucking trashed for her. as she speaks, her hands move and distract him slightly from her body, doused in blue light from the screen and splayed out for him and only him on her phone camera.

the soft lace on her hips and chest make his body stiffen and it causes him to suppress a groan as she sighs, but richie knows he can’t screenshot this heavenly sight because she’ll definitely notice and she can probably already tell he’s having a hard time not staring at her alluring figure as she talks.

"-whereas, you know. as soon as it happens on the internet, it becomes kinky and cam-girly. and, you know, that's fine. i love doing it. it's just, i'm not sure where the authentic communication even is now. or if i get to have a happy ending." she says and he finally sees her blush for the first time.

he wishes he was there with her, he wishes that he could touch the redness on her cheeks and caress her curvy body and taste her skin on his tongue. he wants to feel himself inside her, he wants to be with her and kiss her lips and yet he can't, so he sighs and shifts in his position, moving to turn up the brightness of his phone so he can see better.

"shouldn't you get to be the one to decide that, doll?" is all he adds. because he feels kind of lost and just as confused as y/n is with this.

he's starting to feel weird about it, because... is this authentic? what makes things like hookups or whatever the hell they've been doing authentic? shouldn't this be easy? it's just phone sex, phone sex with a really hot girl.

a girl who is complex and alive and full of sincerity and richie is definitely falling harder than he should.

she just sighs but makes no other comment. and then they just stare at each other, richie's face illuminated in his dark room by the phone's reflection.

well, i found a motel it looked like the bins i think there'd been a murder so we couldn't get in i need to get back i've gotta see the girl on the screen

"come over and watch a movie with me." he says into the phone, biting his lip. the silence from the other end of the line is deafening as she makes her decision, because they both know she's not about to come over just to watch the shining or psycho.

they've never done that before, and richie knows if she does come over, then whatever they have will crash down in a fiery mess. and he hates how excited that makes him as he waits in silence for her to drop the ball. so to speak.

"okay." she says, sounding shocked herself, and richie can't contain the excited grin from eclipsing his face. "yeah?" he asks breathlessly, and she's quiet for a little longer. "yeah. text me your address."

she hangs up after that, and richie's thumbs shake as he types his address and sprints out to where stan, mike, ben, and bill are playing video games in he and stan's living room, wheezing at all of them to get out because someone fucking unbelievable is about to walk through that door.

she's there about an hour later, cheeks flushed when richie opens his door, looking just as nervous and flustered. "hi, chee." she says breathlessly, staring up at him with those goddamn eyes, the eyes that pulled him in the first time. his stomach flips in affection at her nickname and he offers her a drink as she takes in his shitty apartment. he wonders briefly if stan ended up buying that rosé that he'd given him shit for considering, and then prays that stan will stay the night elsewhere.

she's already pouring out glasses of wine when he snaps back to reality, and he grins at her, mumbling in thanks as she passes him a glass that's certainly poured almost to the brim.

"what are we watching, then?" she asks coyly, lifting a brow at him. his cheeks are red, but he tugs her arm down the hall towards his room with a grin, their wine sloshing from their glasses as they move erratically.

"we're watching psycho, y/n/n." he says as he pulls her into his room, glancing back to see she's already swallowed down almost half her glass, a lipstick stain on the side of it. faintly he knows stan will be frustrated if richie doesn't clean that off, but he's more distracted by her lips.

"i like psycho." she says with a nod and a cheeky grin, "the whole 'voyeuristic gaze' thing with hitchcock." she mumbles, and richie recalls faintly learning about that in one of his film classes freshman year and he grins as he takes a hefty gulp of his rosé, figuring he's already given himself away and if she's going to do that, he can too.

he hums, setting down his glass and grabbing hers to set it besides his on the bedside table. he turns around, intending on grabbing his laptop so they could watch the film, but she's so much closer that he'd expected and her hands fall onto his shoulders and he almost shits himself.

unpleasant, but honest. just richie's style.

"can i try something?" she asks with a grin, and richie nods, knowing that she could do anything to him and he'd gladly let it happen and most likely pay out of pocket for the damages afterwards.

and then she's pulling him from her grip on his shoulders, her lips sliding against his and making him grip her hips. his mind almost explodes at with y/n-sensory-overload because he feels her everywhere - on his lips, against his hands, on his shoulders, and pressing against his front.

her lips taste like chamomile and rosé.

she thinks his lips taste like vanilla and cigarette smoke, just as she'd always imagined. he feels so real, pressed against her lips and his body against hers, and she sighs as her tongue slips into his mouth because god, she's needed him for so long. and now she has him.

his hands move, touching every inch of her as their tongues fight for dominance. she pulls back, smirking as she gently pushes him onto his mattress, sliding onto his lap smoothly afterwards, grinding her hips against his slowly.

the moan he emits is heavenly and she could cry because she finally gets to hear it in person and not through the crackling static frequency of the phone.

so she grinds down on him again, eager to feel all of him. he's hardening against her core and she whimpers into his mouth in need as his fingers slip under her top, rubbing circles on her bare skin and making her shiver. she's noticed to this gentleness; it was rare when she did get to enjoy the comfort of another body with her own, and when she did they were hardly half as loving or caring as him.

she's desperate now, she needs to feel him inside her after all these weeks of teasing and waiting, so her hand snakes down to palm him through his sweats. he lets out a small groan into her mouth, biting her lip as he pulls back slightly. their eyes meet and his are hooded with lust, lips parted as she pumps him slowly from outside his sweats. his hips buck up lightly into her palm and she smiles gently, kissing him slowly.

"let me make you feel good, y/n." he mutters, eyes pleading as he stares up at her. her stomach flutters with butterflies and she nods, shocked that he wants to pleasure her.

he gently pulls her off his lap until she's laying on his mattress and he stares down at her, biting his lip as he takes her in. he can't fucking believe she's really here. she slowly pulls off her top, leaving her in her bra and jeans as she stares up at him with a wry, seductive smile. then she unzips her jeans and slides them off, leaving her in his favorite set of hers - black, lacy, and revealing. she looks utterly stunning and he groans, his hands falling to run over the skin, tracing the lace on her breasts. her cheeks are red as she gazes up at him.

"touch me, richie." she orders and he almost groans as he drags his lips over the valley of her breasts, sucking on the soft flesh and admiring the splashes of budding purple and pink that he's created. her heartbeat is quick under his fingertips and he moves to unclip her bra, kissing her skin as the fabric falls away.

she's slightly cold in his room, and goosebumps appear over her flesh as richie leans to catch a nipple in her mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. she lets out a quiet whine that has richie rutting into the mattress next to her, his fingers trailing down to dance at the waistline of her underwear.

and then he's pulling aside her panties, his fingers running up and down her slick folds and making her jump in lust. he can't wait, just like her, and he's rubbing her clit teasingly as she pleads, "chee, please." her eyes are eyes closed in bliss as his finger slips inside her, crooking slightly as he moves it. he presses his lips to the skin of her breast, pumping his finger and then soon adding another, crooking them both in a way that makes her let out guttural moans of pleasure. he marks her breasts with littered pink and red marks, smiling to himself at her figure.

she can't help but swoon as she watches him, his hair in his face slightly until she brushes it back, his fingers curling inside her and making her gasp, pleasure coursing through her body. his thumb softly comes up to rub her neglected clit and she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, the pleasure almost too much.

she's honestly slightly shocked - knowing richie as little as she really does outside of the literal booty calls at two in the morning and the accumulative forty five minutes they'd spent in person, she'd expected him to be... well, good. just good. because there's no way someone so funny, caring, and smart could also be that good in the sheets.

but right now, he's making her see goddamn stars.

"i've been wanting to touch you for so long, sugar." he mutters, eyes raking over her figure as her breath comes in stuttering gasps. she watches him with blown-wide eyes as his demeanor changes right before her, making her fall apart at his fingertips.

"that feel good, honey?" he asks, smirking as she whimpers, clenching around his fingers. "yes, god you feel so good." she utters, making him groan in approval from where he's sat back, watching her face contort in pleasure. she lets out another moan and richie stares at her body, watching his fingers as they fuck into her. he can't take it, then.

"will you sit on my face, doll?" he blurts, and she nearly yelps out as his fingers leave her. it's abrupt, but she's started to notice that this is how he operates - impulsivity is his second nature. and she loves it.

her face burns as she nods, the thought of richie under her making her whimper with anticipation. "yes, richie, please." she moans out again and he's grinning, laying back on the mattress with a wink. "c'mere, need to taste that pretty little pussy." he mutters and she feels herself clench around nothing, desperate for him as she swings a leg around to straddle his head.

immediately, his hands wrap around her thighs, thumbs smoothing over her stretch marks as he stares up at her, eyes glinting with desire. slowly, his finger pulls the seat of her lace panties to the side and his breath hits her bare, throbbing pussy, making her breath hitch. she cards her fingers through his hair and lowers herself slightly, gasping in shock as his tongue darts out to lick a bold stripe up from her entrance to her clit.

"chee," she moans out, tightening her grip in his hair and sending a groan through his body that reverberates and makes her shiver. his lips attach to her clit and fiery pleasure snakes through her body making her legs shake, a moan escaping her lips immediately. he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue, her moans making richie impossibly harder through his sweats.

"so good, rich." she mutters and he groans, tongue spreading her wet folds and slowly prodding at her entrance, dipping in slowly before pulling out, teasing her.

she can't help but grind down slightly, making richie grip her tightly, tongue sliding into her again and making her yelp. "you taste so good, baby." he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to her heat, her eyes rolling slightly at the sensation as he fucks his tongue into her. one of his hands snakes up to her ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making her buck her hips against him, emitting a hiss from her.

"rich, i-" she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp, the pleasure from richie's mouth making it increasingly harder to speak. her toes curl and her head tilts back as his tongue flicks over her clit, teeth grazing it slightly and making her buck.

she's embarrassingly close already, and judging by the way richie's smirking under her, he can tell. "please, please." she mutters, hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at her clit and making her cry out. "please, make me cum, 'chee." she mutters and his tongue moves quicker, hand slapping her ass again.

and then she's clenching her thighs on either side of him and grinding down as she hits her peak, moaning quietly as she shakes in pleasure on top of him. he rides through her high, lapping at her and pulling away with a grin as she moans his name dejectedly. she's worn out from the best orgasm she's ever had and he gently nudges her so he slides in between her thighs, her back now on the mattress. he kisses her cheek and she keens quietly.

"fuck me, richie." she mutters, eyes still closed. his eyes snap to hers, surprised at the dominance in her voice after how she was two seconds ago.

he moans quietly, kissing her deeply as he ruts against her and relishes in the feeling. he's pulling off his sweats and boxers in record time and then he's pumping himself as he grips her hips, turning her so she's on her stomach, ass propped up slightly. his hand runs over the smooth skin of her ass, snapping the elastic of her panties and making her moan quietly.

then he's lining up her hips with his, pulling aside the lacy seat of her underwear to press against her entrance. he waits a moment as he leans to press a soft kiss to her spine, slowly easing into her. she moans loudly as he eases in, her face pressing against the pillows. she smiles as she smells the scent she'd just recently come to know as his, his cock stretching her and filling her up fully as he buries himself to the hilt inside her.

"so tight, sugar." he mutters and she whimpers, getting antsy as she adjusts to his size. "richie, please, need it so bad." she mutters, bucking her hips back against him in need.

"say that again." he mutters, sounding strangled, and she grins into the sheets. "please fuck me, richie. need it so bad, need to feel you ruin me." she whimpers, chest fluttering in anticipation. his hands grip her hips as he pulls out of her slowly, almost as slowly as he entered, before stopping almost all the way out. she moans loudly in pleasure as he pushes back in, snapping his hips against hers and filling her completely.

she briefly thanks god that his roommate seemed to be out for the night as she moans his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

he sets a brutal pace, his cock thick as it fills her up and makes her toes curl. he pushes her hair away from her neck and presses kisses to it as he hits a spot inside her that makes her scream his name. his fingers move to pinch her nipples, rolling them as he fucks into her.

she's completely blissed out at the feeling of him inside her, so glad that he invited her over and that they finally get to touch each other. "rich, oh my god." she emits, eyes squinted shut in complete pleasure.

"fuck, toots, takin' me so well, aren't you?" he asks, hands kneading her ass before slapping her right ass cheek harshly, making her arch her back. at the new angle they both let out a groan and richie knows he'll fucking cum too soon if they stay like this, so without warning he pulls out completely.

y/n whines, breathing heavily as his hands come to flip her around. now on her back, they make eye contact and she bites her lip, pulling him in for a searing kiss that knocks the wind out of both of them. images of richie in his room alone, snaps and late-night face times play through her mind as he grips her and slides her hips down towards him on the mattress and lines himself to her again, pulling her legs up so they're against his chest before pushing in.

he gives no time to adjust to this angle and it makes her moan loudly as he hits a spot deep inside her that pulls her closer and closer to her second orgasm.

his name leaves her cherry lips like a mantra and he can't stop staring at her as he fucks her into the mattress - the way her tits bounce with his brutal pace, the way her face is twisted in pleasure, the way she clenches and spasms around his cock.

one hand grips her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb and forefinger as he kisses her again, addicted to her taste as he feels himself coming closer and closer to the edge.

"chee, fuck, right there." she moans out and he groans in pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him making his hips stutter. he keeps his thrusts up, though, as her fingernails rake down his back leaving small trails of burning pleasure in their wake.

her skin is covered with a sheen line of sweat as she looks up at him, hair wild and lips kiss-bruised. "god, don't stop, 'm gonna cum." she mutters and he snaps his hips harder, eager to make her cum so hard all she can think of is his name.

he moves a hand down to rub at her clit and he moans into her neck as she clenches hard around him, her hips bucking spastically. he can tell she's about to cum, and after a hard thrust, she does for the second time, spasming around him and sending waves of pleasure up his body. she's moaning his name, pulling him closer in bliss as she becomes sensitive and god damn it, she's so fucking beautiful.

"please cum, richie." she whispers against his lips, "please." and then at her will, he's spilling into her, hips stuttering as he pushes as deep into her as he can, loving how she clenches in sensitivity around him. he stays inside her for a moment as they breathe, coming down from their highs and eyes closed as they take in what just happened.

"holy shit." he says because yeah, that's like all he can say right now because he just got to fuck y/n and she's kissing his fucking collarbones right now and its making him blush and his heart flutter.

"that was...incredible." she whispers against his skin and he can feel her smile against his skin. it makes him feel all soft inside as he pulls out of her and flops next to her, kissing her forehead.

his fingers flutter over her sensitive core, smiling as he sees how wrecked she is, some cum dripping down her leg. he then soothes over the lace panties, patting her lightly and kissing her red cheek.

"rich?" she asks, making him look up at her. he hums in question, pushing some of her hair back. "can we still watch the movie?"

his heart swells and he grins, kissing her softly. "of course, doll. you're too cute." he says with a wink, making her roll her eyes. he hands her his shirt and then pulls sweats on himself, mumbling "stay here" and padding out to the kitchen to get her water and snacks, then returning minutes later to see her holding his phone in her clutch with a smirk.

"what're you doing?" he asks with a smile, but she shakes her head, making grabby hands for him and the snacks. so he laughs, cuddling up with the girl of his dreams and watching a flick, falling sleep with tangled limbs and a lipstick-stained neck.

and after she leaves the next morning with a kiss and a wink, he checks his phone and smirks to himself as he notices the lock screen she'd apparently made last night while he was making snacks.

a photo of her in his bed, wearing his shirt, a soft smirk on her face, neck littered in budding hickeys and a hand between her thighs next to her black lace panties.

god, she's going to be the absolute death of him.

//tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @emnotm @moon-shine-baby @toziershmozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @beauregard-s@finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss \\

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #richie has adhd #losers x reader #losers club x reader

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1dcraftawards · 4 years ago

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November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic !

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things. I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly, I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020

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irondad-not-ironsad · 4 years ago

Text

WandaVision Episode 1 Reaction

Spoilers below!!

I enjoy the music over the marvel logo

But also a 43 second logo feels kinda long for a 29 minute episode- is it just for the premier or is this gonna happen before each ep?

Also I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that there is a title sequence, which will probably be similar in length. Combine that with the lengthy credits people have been complaining about, it seems that the percentage of the thirty minutes that is actually the story is lower than it should be

not that I don’t love a good title sequence! But I’ll take a well fleshed out episode over fancy logos, title sequences and credits any day

now that I’ve got that of my chest, on to the actual show

I like how they have the frame shaped like that of an old timey tv, combined with the black and white it really adds to the old timey sit come vibe

I like these bells

Ok I know I complained about to much time being wasted with logos and such, but i LOVE how cheesy this theme song is and I love them showing vision and Wanda driving tp there house in wedding attire

“A regular husband and wife” 2 seconds late *vision disappears into a cloud of sparkles*.... 1 minute 8 seconds in and I love this

Even there acting is reminiscent of an old timey sit com this is amazing

feel like I should note he title sequence ends at the 1.36 mark approximately, which may not seem like a lot but again the show is less than thirty minutes so it adds up

Wanda talks with a fifties accent: I already love this show

Also I wish I had magic I could use to clean, I’m moving back into my dorm right now and Wanda’s powers would be SO helpful

Also I LOVE the laugh track

Also Wanda’s short curly hair is so cute

I love how neither of them knows what the heart means so they play it off by being like “yeah of course I know what it means, how could I forget? Do YOU remember what it means

Also Vision is literally part computer shouldn’t he have a photographic memory?

Also how old is Wanda? I could have sworn someone said she was 19 in civil war, which would make her like 21 here? I think?? Idk tho, as a 19 year old I don’t think she has ever looked 19 in the movies, even back in Ultron she looked at least in her mid twenties

The face Vision makes when he makes himself human is so funny

Also Vision blowing Wanda a kiss and her reaching back to grab it is the perfect amount of corny that makes it still cute

Also I wonder what vision’s job is

The backing music is so funny

I can already tell Agnes is going to be some great comic relief in a show that’s already hilarious

“I assure you, I’m married. To a man. A HUMAN one!” I know I’ve said before that I was never the biggest fan of Wanda or Vision but I love Wanda in this show

Obv there is something clearly off here, but I feel like I need to mention that it’s clear this is some warped reality. If I had never seen any of the MCU before, I may believe it was just witch and her robot husband living in the fifties, but the little details really make it clear to the audience (the majority of whom I am sure are familiar with the mcu) that something is off. This scene is one of those, where Wanda cannot seem to recall how long her and Vision have been together and plays it off by saying “It feels like we always have been together”

Is Agnes giving Wanda advice for the bedroom? is this really what I’m watching? Or have I wildly misinterpreted this?

Love the old timey lingo

Vision working a desk job is so funny

Love that vision doesn’t even know what they do at his job, I know it’s part of the false reality thing but also lowkey relatable

“you’re like a walking computer” “I most certainly am not! I’m a regular carbon-based employee made entirely of organic matter”

I started this like twenty minutes ago and have only gotten 7 minutes in because I keep stopping to type my reactions. I am going to try to shut up and watch, and stop screaming about every little detail for a bit 😂

Real quick though does Vision just go by Vision at work?

Ope apparently he does.

I wonder if Vision took Wanda’s last name

Or is he Vision Stark-Banner since it was Tony and Bruce who made him??

He probably isn’t called that but I think it would be funny if he was

Love that instead of writing “dinner with boss” or “Dinner w/ Harts” or even just “Harts” he drew a freaking heart like im dying

if my lack of emojis seems weird I’m typing this on a computer which I never normally do and I’m to lazy to pull up the emoji keyboard, so basically imagine there’s a cry laughing emoji after everything funny

“No skeletons in the closet?’ “I don’t have a skeleton sir.”

Yup I was right, Agnes is giving her sexy time advice

“you should stumble when you walk in a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic!” that is the only way I will be flirting from now on

Also I got to say, I'm guessing it’s a fifties thing but those pointy bras don’t look comfortable

So she answers the phone “Vision Residence” Is Vision also their last name now? Does he go by Vision Vision??

They make the best facial expressions

This phone conversation where Wanda think they’re having a date night whereas Vision is talking about his boss coming for dinner is comedy GOLD

also I love the fact that they’re giving us stereotypical sitcom drama while keeping it clear that there are bigger problems than dinner with the boss

Fake commercial break is at 9.56 (these time stamps are for myself I want to calculate how much of the episode is actually the story)

I do love the fake commercials tho! And I suppose in a way they ARE part of the show

They missed the chance to make it the toastmate three thousand and make every ironman fan cry

The beeping toaster sounds like a ticking bomb..... also the little red light is the only color we’ve seen this episode I think

Commercial ends at 10.46

Also love that it was an SI toaster, still wish they had made it 3000 instead of 2000

How did Wanda confuse Mr. Hart with her husband? Not that I’m complaining, her coming out in a robe and covering Vis’ Boss’ eyes is HILARIOUS

“This is the traditional Sokovian greeting? Didn’t I tell you my wife is from Europe?” “How exotic!” “We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks”

Visions pants are SO high waisted

“It’s our anniversary!” “Our anniversary of WHAT?” “WELL IF YOU DON”T KNOW I”M NOT GONNA TELL YOU”

Poor Vision is trying to figure out what kind of company he works for this is sooo funny

Agnes coming in clutch with a full meal

So Wanda needs the ingredients in order to magic a meal she can’t just make one appear

Vision breaking into song was amazing

How did one chicken turn into like 30 eggs

Vision is singing old McDonald with his bosses wife this is great

“Diane!” “That must be my wife summoning me!” “She calls you Diane?” “Yes... it’s her pet name for me” “I’m coming... Fred”

So many clichés in this show but it’s done in such a purposeful way that it’s still funny

Also we have only seen three rooms: the kitchen, the living room and Vision’s workplace

“Well I think tonight’s going SWIMMINGLY”

Mrs. Hart is SO NOSY

But I love that they don’t know the answers

Wanda looks SO disturbed when Mr. Hart is demanding her and visions story, you can tell her mind is fighting itself and it’s so sad

Mr. Hart is choking, is it bad that I think he deserves it?

Mrs. Hart keeps cheerily repeating stop it, and gone is the stereotypical sitcom camera angles and and the backing music is switched for something eery

This is lowkey scary, Mr. Hart Dying while his wife keeps cheerily saying Stop It and it just feels creepier the more she repeats

Wanda looks distressed and vision is just looking to her for what to do, her old timey accent is gone and she sounds nearly robotic as she tells Vision to help

Poor Wanda, she is so clearly going through it mentally right now

Laugh track is back, and just like that the Harts are leaving, despite only having one bite of food

And somehow Mr. Hart is impressed? Was Wanda rewriting reality to make them so?

I know that this is clearly some alternate reality and nothing is right, but wanda and vision deciding to choose that day as there anniversary and this little convo here is soooooo cute

Aw her making them rings and them both saying I do is soooo cute

And vision saying “and they lived happily ever after’ is so sweet but also so sad in context

What is that little remote vision is holding meant to be?

And love the hexagon closing in on them with the cute music playing to end the episode

Are the people in these credits real? Because it lists the start as Wanda Maximoff and Vision but are the rest actual people?

So there is some sketchy dude watching the maybe fake credits so there's something going on there

The actual credits start with 7.13 left and I’ve been told there's no mid or post credits scene. I’ll let them play while I finish this up anyways

8 minutes and 49 seconds of this show is the logo, title sequence and credits. Out of 29.36 total this means only 20 minutes and 47 seconds is the show, which I suppose is standard for a sitcom but I think I felt deceived by it showing as 29 minutes

Also 50 seconds of “commercial takes the show time down to 19.57 if anyone was wondering

I swear tho I’m not all that bothered by the length, just did the math in case anyone was curious like I am.

I thought I was going to really enjoy this going it, but it still really surpassed my expectations and I can’t wait for episode 2!

This is my raw reactions, but I’m sure that as I mull it over more I’ll be posting more about the show

This is somehow a perfect combo of lighthearted comedy and mild horror

I wanna let this episode stew for a while, so I prob won’t watch episode 2 for at least a day

Also what are your guys’ thoughts on this format of reaction? Did I write to much?

Also what did y’all think of this episode? Feel free to let me know what you think of my reaction, and whether you agree or disagree. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

#anna reacts to wandavision #anna reacts #wandavision #mcu #marvel #avengers #scarlet witch #vision #wanda maximoff #disney plus #wandavision spoilers #wv spoilers #mcu spoilers #marvel spoilers

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gilbirda · 4 years ago

Text

Payment

After winning their silly little bet, Lucifer had arranged a vacation for him and his detective in a private island. What he doesn't know is that she had plans of her own.

<< Prequel

[Read in AO3][Read in FF.net]

"So," she heard the voice followed by a loud thump of something really heavy hitting the floor. "What do you think?"

Heavenly, was her first thought, but she was sure he wouldn't like the humour behind her words. Instead, Chloe pulled up her sunglasses and stepped into the mansion - she refused to call it a house - by the beach where Lucifer apparently wanted them to spend the rest of the week.

A beach in a private island, because of course The Devil owned a Caribbean island in the Bermuda Triangle. Despite the creepy mysteries behind planes and boats disappearing here, he had assured her that there wasn’t anything supernatural about this place; and as a bonus they had plenty of privacy here. The smile as he said it told her that he wasn’t exactly referring to nosy neighbours or unwanted visits.

She had never been in a private island. Or any island. One would think that with a famous mother she would have traveled a lot, but the fact is that she always been too busy with her studies and acting school to keep Penelope company in her travels.

Chloe smiled, swallowing down the knee-jerk reaction to Lucifer’s absurd wealth shows, and turned to see his buried under an equally absurd amount of luggage. It was his own fault, insisting that he chose everything she would wear or need as part of their bet, so she didn’t offer any help as she would have any other moment.

He didn’t seem tired, anyway.

“It’s nice,” she shrugged with a smirk, putting back her sunglasses and going inside the mansion with a flick of her hair.

Chloe was having the time of her life. She knew it was petty of her, but sometimes being predictable was boring and wasn't Lucifer complaining all the time about getting bored? That she could use some excitement in her life.

Seems like teasing the Devil was her new favorite pastime.

Serious teasing. Sexual teasing. Hinting promises and leave him hanging all day, being extra careful with her tongue movements as they ate ice-cream before, making unnecessary eye-contact every time she responded with an innuendo.

She really have been trying to read this book for a while, too, but Lucifer’s glare was too heavy to ignore even if he had been as quiet as a cat as he hovered around her.

A shadow was cast over her, but she didn’t lift her head to look at him.

“The main protagonist is about to have mind-blowing sex with the Dark Lord, so please move. You are blocking the light.”

The Devil snorted. “Why do you read that crap when you can have real-life mind-blowing sex with your own Dark Lord?”

He was trying so hard to conceal his frustration that her mask of controlled boredom almost cracked for it. It was endearing, watching him squirm and get all bothered because of her.

“Chloe…” he practically whined.

The woman smiled and closed the book, taking off the sunglasses. Maybe it was time to stop her game. She knew that they were here because of that stupid bet and that she was supposed to be living the fantasy of a deserted island with her boyfriend; but the truth is that she had been brewing a plan for this little vacation.

Lucifer thought she wouldn’t notice how he tried so hard to meet her needs, sexualy speaking that is; but the fact is that she did notice him withdrawing every time she presented a more active front. She knew he liked going down on her and tending to her every whim and plea, they had talked about it before, but it didn’t mean he didn’t have a preference or two. He had eons to try everything, true, and he must have a favorite position or kink.

So far she hadn’t approached him about it, but she was going to change that.

“Yeah?”

His expression was a mix of kicked puppy and Trixie’s face when there’s steamed broccoli for dinner.

“Please.” She wasn’t sure if she liked how he sounded saying that word; but the sensation surely won over the impulse of comforting him immediately.

Chloe smirked. “Join me for a quick shower?”

His smile lit up like a Christmas tree.

Breathing heavily, Chloe considered her boyfriend as he rearranged his bathrobe, his hair beyond salvation after the attack of her hands as he did so many wonderful things between her legs.

“Want more?” his voice made her focus on his eyes. They glinted with mischief.

“Uh-huh,” she shook her head, jumping off the bathroom counter. Didn’t bother with a towel, though. “Just thinking.”

“About?” he offered her another robe, opening it for her to pass her arms through.

“You.”

“Obviously,” she rolled her eyes at his tone, “but what about, specifically?”

She could cower and let it go, she knew; but between with the deep relaxation after a perfect shower followed by a mindblowing orgasm, she felt bold and brave. She came here with a mission.

“What do you want?”

He blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. You mean for dinner? Or…”

“Sorry. Let me rephrase it,” she cleared her throat, looked at him in the eye, leaning in a bit. “Tell me, what do you desire?” she said trying to mimic his accent.

Lucifer snorted and pinched her nose. “Awful. Just awful. Don’t do that ever again.”

“Okay, okay. I won’t,” Chloe batted his hand away. “But my question still stands. What is it that you most want?”

“You. I thought it was obvious,” he frowned like it was a stupid question.

“I mean, hm…” her bravery was vanishing. “In sex. I know you have a lot of experience and everything… Let me finish!” she said when he opened his mouth to, probably, reassure her once more that monogamy wasn’t a torture and she was more than enough and Detective, please, nothing can compare. “I have a point. What I wanted to say is, I have noticed how you do a bunch of stuff for me but don’t ask anything in return.”

“I thought that it was okay to do something without it being a deal…?” Chloe could almost see the question marks floating around his head.

“Yes! Yes, it is. But, trust me I can’t believe I’m saying this, I would do anything you ask of me. Doesn’t matter how kinky or, dunno, weird.”

“Anything…” he murmured the word, taking a step back, analysing her.

“Tell me, I’ll understand,” she looked down at her fidgeting hands, forcing them to stop. Here it goes, she though. Lucifer, the King of weird kinks and forbidden desires. What kind of thing would be the Devil’s kink? His one forbidden desire? The man who spoke of sex as an everyday thing, who had a BDSM dungeon (she knew about its existence, but never been there) fully stocked, who could draw the darkest and deepest fetishes of people without blinking.

Lucifer was still watching, considering, making her more nervous. Was it so fucked up that he didn’t want to talk about it out loud?

“Detective,” she jumped at his voice, “while I appreciate the thought, you don’t have to do anything for me. What you already give is more than enough for an eternity.”

How could he deliver such corny and cheesy phrases without sounding tacky? It was a mystery, but her money was on the accent. And his height.

Chloe took a deep breath. “I know. I’ve had my fair share of guilt tripping boyfriends pressuring me into sex to know you are not one of them.” He smiled dangerously, making it clear that he wanted the names of those ‘boyfriends’. “This is something I really want to do. And who knows, maybe I’ll like it too?” she gave him a tentative smile.

Lucifer relaxed, smiling back, closing the space between them to softly place a kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered like it was a fact.

And it was.

“Then tell me what you -”

“Stop right there if you value your kidney,” he grumbled. The devil didn’t like her butchering his catchphrase, it seems.

“I wasn’t going go say it.”

“Liar.”

She smirked devilishly, pushing him towards the bed, amazed once more when he let himself be pushed.

“What is it?”

Was it a blush in his cheeks? “Promise you won’t laugh.”

She frowned. “Laugh?” Chloe frowned.

“Yep. Promise.”

“I promise, sure, but I wouldn’t laugh at you anyways.”

He searched inside her eyes for a few seconds before sighing, closing his eyes.

“I want you to dominate me.”

Her eyebrows went to the hairline. “That was unexpected.” But she rolled with it, as she always did with her partner. “I thought Maze…?”

“Dear Mazikeen sure is the dominating type in bed,” he conceded with a slight nod, “and I let her do with me what she wanted more than a few times. But what I crave is more than pain and restraining. True submission is about -”

“Trust,” Lucifer saw the gears work inside her pretty brain. She knew him well, knew about his opinions about free will, about his issues with trust. Hell wasn’t place of trust and friendship, he had told her plenty of times. Maze was his trusted bodyguard and lover, but she was, after all, a demon. “And you trust me.”

“With my whole life.”

Chloe kissed him, hard.

“I don’t do pain, though,” she grabbed his face, looking at him in the eye. “I wouldn’t-”

“I know,” he smiled.

“Good. Then I’m game, if you excuse my inexperience.”

Lucifer moved her so he could stand up from the bed, straightened his bathrobe, and flashed her a charming trademark Lucifer smile.

“Worry not, Detective! We can start with something simple.” With long strides, he glided towards a dresser by the bed, opening a drawer and retrieving some stuff from inside. “Have you ever used one of this?”

Chloe should have expected this. She should, with how the conversation was going. But she wasn’t ready to see a pretty and shiny (and new, she noticed) strap-on with the dildo already attached. She had flashbacks of a moment a long time ago, with a young Chloe awkwardly kissing a woman, a girl who thought that “she was just experimenting” and “just a phase”. Yeah right.

“Once,” her voice didn’t falter, thankfully.

“Nice,” he smiled, showing a lot of teeth, “I want to hear about that story sometime.”

She made a face. Of course he would want to hear about her sex life, even if it wasn’t as colorful as his.

Chloe stood and approached him to retrieve the strap-on, one hand on his chest to push him back towards the bed. He let her, stealing a kiss as he walked backwards. The woman snorted.

“So,” she said, watching him from above, weighing the dildo in one hand as she contemplated what to do next. She wasn’t usually dominating in bed, but… well, it warmed her heart to hear his reasons behind wanting it. “Take off the robe.”

He nodded and did as he was told, making a show of it.

Chloe smiled softly. “Now, I want you to....,” she looked around, considering her words, “kneel.”

His knees made a dull sound when they contacted with the wooden floor, but he didn’t make an expression of pain. Chloe put her free hand on his hair, petting him softly, trying to dictate what kind of dominance she was going for. She didn’t do pain, didn’t do humiliation. He had suffered that enough in his life; and she was absolutely sure that it wasn’t what he was asking for with his request.

“You look so pretty like this, Luce,” her smile was soft, “I love how vulnerable you look around me.” Her hand went down his face, caressing his lips. He leaned into the touch, but didn’t say anything.

“I love kissing you knowing that I am the only one. That your lips are mine,” her nails scrapped his scalp softly when she grabbed a bit of hair, not enough to hurt. “Are they?”

“Yes,” his voice didn’t tremble, but he closed his eyes. Chloe smiled.

“Good. Stand up.”

Being so close to him, his height made him tower above her, but that didn’t make her cower down. It never did.

“On the bed,” she slapped his backside when he turned to do as she told him. “Good devil.”

“Always.”

“Uh-huh, didn’t give you permission to speak,” she stood before him, placing the strap and the dildo somewhere on the mattress and focusing on him.

He arched an eyebrow, but bit down whatever he was going to retort with.

“Now, for your little slip of the tongue, you are not allowed to move,” she locked eyes with him as she kneeled between his legs, her intentions clear. “No words, but you can make sounds. And no touching me.” Her growl was good, he decided. Pasable.

Without preamble, she took him into her mouth, delighted when he jumped and fisted his hands on the sheets. He enjoyed touching her, her face, her hair, her shoulders, anything, as she does her blowjobs; she was sure that part of it was to make sure she was real and was actually doing it. She liked it too, not going to lie, even if sometimes he got a bit rough.

Okay, maybe those times turned her on more that she was going to admit out loud.

She looked up as she bobbed her head up and down his length, smiling around him once she found a very flustered devil, jaw locked in place, trying very hard to control his own body from reaching for her. His eyes were shifting between normal brown and hellfire red, the only sign that she was doing exactly what she wanted.

Lucifer should have expected this, he thought. His Detective was cunning and clever, with a mischievous streak buried deep under her sensible clothes and brown shoes. What he didn’t expect was looking down to find her swallowing him further and further, her face scrunched in concentration as she overcame her gag reflex with the ease of enough practise.

Once she managed to reach all the way up, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Throwing his head back, he moaned loudly, her name on the tip of his tongue, remembering in the last minute that he wasn’t allowed to say words. His hands trembled on his sides, the urge to grab her head and pound into her throat consuming his thoughts until he couldn’t stop imagining it even with his eyes opened.

She kept her head down one moment that felt like eons before withdrawing, taking a deep breath.

“Do you like it?” her lips were swollen as she smiled her question, one hand idly stroking his cock with care. Lucifer nodded hastily, taking the break to breathe himself. “Good devil.” He shivered at her praising. “I love watching you like this, too. I love doing this to you knowing that I am the only one who can touch you like this. Am I? You can speak.”

"Yes.”

He was close, she knew. It was tempting to give her all and make him cum after the teasing, but she was strong enough to ignore the siren’s call.

“Good, good,” she nodded and let him go. Lucifer gasped, looking at her like she had just murdered his puppy. “No talking,” she reminded him when he opened his mouth.

Lucifer rolled his eyes in a very Decker way.

“On the bed,” she made a gesture with her chin, a soft smile on her lips. “Good devil,” the woman said as he did so, ignoring the smug smile when he laid down, hands behind his head, and proudly presenting his Luciferness for her.

Chloe reached for the harness, her hands finding their places in the straps and quickly fastening the contraption between her legs. She felt in control, dominant, and exactly in tune with what she wanted to do. Lucifer watched her with anticipation while she went for the lube and applied a generous quantity over the silicone, stroking the false cock to thoroughly spread the glossy substance.

She kneeled between his legs, reached for a nearby pillow and put it under him, ordering him to lift his hips with a soft slap on the leg, before spreading even more lube on her right hand and grabbing his member by the base, waiting for confirmation. He nodded briefly, letting her hand slid down, biting back a retort about not really needing prep, duh, who has she thinking he was?

“Before you start bitching about it, remember how vulnerable,” she made a point by squeezing his cock almost to an uncomfortable point. He jumped and gasped, but not really for the pain, “you are around me. Trust me.”

The thing is, he did.

Chloe put in a finger, lazily pumping him with her left hand, looking into his eyes as she added almost immediately another finger. She felt him relax into the sensation, not really aroused by it but enjoying the feeling of his Detective touching him in such delightful ways.

The woman added another finger, slowly spreading them, focusing on the rhythm and his reaction to it.

Lucifer gasped when she deemed him sufficiently prepared and withdrew her digits, pouring some more lube just in case.

“Thank you for allowing me this moment, Lucifer,” she caressed his chest as she shuffled closer to him, her fingers leaving wet tracks on his tanned skin, “I love how doing this to you makes me feel. How your body responds to me,” she said as she probed the entrance with the plastic toy.

Without any further warning, she slowly pushed the dildo in, watching out for any discomfort or pain in his expression. He had closed his eyes, one of his hands floating near her hip as if reaching to guide her. Chloe waited for a moment.

Lucifer’s breath hitched when she withdrew as slowly as she entered. No one told him it would be like this. No one could have warned him it could be like this. Sex with the love of his life was amazing and everything but, bloody hell, this woman…!

She thrusted right back in, and he actually mewled in response, his hands choosing to fist around the sheets again. Was he allowed to touch her again…? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure anymore about anything. Why was Chloe doing this? He should have asked sooner. Hell, he should have offered sooner, if this was what got her into his bed.

“You can speak,” her words were like fresh water in the dessert.

“Chloe,” he grumbled, his voice a hybrid of a growl and a moan. “More.”

She didn’t say anything else and picked up the pace a little, her hands searching for anchor in his thighs to power her thrust, searching for the balance of force and speed he craved.

“More!” He arched his back, feeling like something was quite there but not there, making him mad with the need, like scratching an itch he couldn’t reach.

Instead of going faster, Chloe gradually stopped. He opened his eyes, horrified, scared that he said the wrong thing or wanted too much, or she was finally realizing that dating a celestial maybe wasn’t exactly what she wanted-

“On your belly,” her breathing was labored but her expression focused. She slapped his stomach softly when he didn’t move. “I have an idea, one that maybe won’t require cramping my legs.”

In a daze, Lucifer did as told, missing the pressure of the dildo inside of him, missing the reassurance of seeing her face and asses if she was okay or not. His back may not be scarred anymore, and she was allowed to touch him where she wanted now, but he still felt utterly vulnerable in his position. Maybe she knew this?

Chloe run a finger over his spine, right between where his wings would be. “Wings. Out.”

“Chloe?”

She kissed his back instead of answering.

Taking a deep breath he unfurled his enormous wings, careful of not pushing her out of the bed in the process. This wasn’t the first time he showed her his cursed appendages, even during sex; but it was the first time she asked for them. She knew about the conflicted emotions around them, the pain and the loss, about the grooming and what it entailed. What it meant to be touched there.

“I’m going to touch your feathers, maybe pull them. Is that okay with you?” her voice was soft, not demanding at all, breaking character for the one question he knew he could answer truthfully.

The words came easy. “Please do.”

He felt more than saw her nod before feeling the silicone cock touching him again. He angled his ass better for her, delighted when her hands bracketed his hips like they were made to be there. Just as naturally and easy, she pushed in and started to pump in and out again, slow at first as she found the position to power through what she wanted to accomplish.

Lucifer’s arms trembled when her hands roamed up to his wings, her nimble fingers finding places that triggered shivers and sighs and nice feelings; and places that send lighting to his groin, too. He moaned after one powerful thrust, his hand sneaking down, trying to reach that extra completion…

“Uh-huh,” she slapped the hand away.

“No?” he turned his head to look at her beautiful naked body, the visuals of her cock disappearing inside of him giving him the shivers.

“Nope.” She grinned in a very him way, pushing in a bit harder to accentuate her point. She was in control. She did the action.

“O-okay…” he almost screamed, but bit down the urge.

Lucifer closed his eyes, letting himself feel the friction and the delicious sensations she provided. He screamed when she grabbed a handful of feathers and pulled, careful of not hurting him too much even if she couldn’t know that with her human strength she couldn’t really damage his wings. She pulled again, this time accompanied by another powerful thrust.

His arms trembled, unable of supporting his weight anymore, and fell down, losing the last bit of control he held over what she was doing to him, letting himself be held down by the woman.

“Detective,” he moaned into the pillow. She hummed, raking her nails deep into his wings, sending electric currents through his body. Lucifer screamed again.

“My name, Lucifer. I want to hear my name.” Her voice couldn’t be louder than a normal conversation, but it rang loud in his brain.

He didn’t know if it was her tone or how the new angle made the silicone hit just right but he was sure that he was close again. Still, it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. She was enough, but there were so many things he wanted to do with her. It was always like this. He wanted so much, too much, and he wanted all with her. She said she wanted to fulfill his desires but would she really?

He turned his head to look at her delicious form, her focused expression, her lower lip between her teeth in concentration. She was sweating and breathing hard, but she looked… radiant.

“Detec-”, she slapped his ass, glaring at him when she found his eyes. “Chloe,” her name sounded like a plea. “Please don’t stop.”

She was going to ask what he meant, when she felt the resistance to her movements increase, his legs trembling slightly, and she understood now. As he came, she kept moving at a slower pace, guiding her actions by his breathing and the tone of his moans, how he looked at her with eyes switching between dark brown and hellfire red.

He was beautiful like this, she concluded. His hair messed beyond repair, utterly wrecked and helpless under her body. She pulled some feathers again, smirking when immediately he screamed her name, arching his back as much as she let him.

“Don’t stop, please,” he kept saying, this time with eyes glowing red, “Please.”

And she didn’t stop. Chloe kept thrusting and pulling and caressing and slapping; slowing down sometimes, notching the speed a bit up when she found the strength. Her legs were burning, but she kept going. She could do this. She wanted to do this.

It wasn’t until he eventually stopped pleading and mewling and moaning that she ceased all movements. She was tired. And needed a shower. And water.

Slowly, she withdrew the silicone cock, Lucifer’s body falling limp on the bed. She worried for a moment that she had hurt him, but when she rushed to check if he was alive she found him awake but silent, watching her in a daze-like state. She snapped her fingers and he moved his eyes to hers in question, but didn’t do anything else.

Deciding that it was okay as a response, she unfastened the straps and got out of the bed, waggling towards the bathroom as fast as her tired legs could. She wetted a cloth and came back to clean a still unresponsive Lucifer, wrestling with his celestial weight and wings to turn him to clean the bodily fluids clinging to his skin. He would need to shower too, but that was for the them of the future.

For now, napping.

If he agreed or not, she couldn’t know. The only signs that he was alive were his still changing eyes watching her every movement, a blank expression in his face. She had broken him, she knew. For a few seconds, she considered getting this moment captured in a photo for future blackmail, but she dismissed the idea with a smile.

Once they both were clean enough for her standards, she threw the cloth to a nearby table and proceeded to yank the sheets from under the Devil’s body. If she was tired before, she was about to collapse now. Chloe didn’t care if it wasn’t night yet, she was going to nap.

At last she got under the covers with her boyfriend, spooning his unresponsive form, wings and all. She closed her eyes, humming with delight.

“Chloe,” she heard him whisper.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” His voice broke with emotion. She didn’t comment on it.

“I know,” she kissed the back of his head. “Now, sleep.”

“Okay.”

#lucifer #lucifer netflix #lucifer fanfiction #deckerstar #chloe decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x chloe #gil writes #fanfic #fanfiction #writeblr

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madamebaggio · 5 years ago

Photo

THE SAME WAY I LIKE MY COFFEE

Summary: Sansa Stark always liked her coffee hot and sweet. She finally found a guy that makes the sentence "I like my men the same way I like my coffee" real to her.

Jon snow has no right to be that hot.

Or: Sansa opens the coffee shop of her dreams, makes great friends and meets an unbelievably hot Jon Snow.

Notes: This work is complete and you can find it all here ;)

****

Intimacy was a very peculiar thing, Sansa usually marveled.

After seven months working door to door with everybody else, she felt like she’d known them all her whole life.

She wasn’t shocked anymore when Ygritte stormed into her café at 10 in the morning, growling at everybody and demanding coffee.

She loved that Margaery would offer her flowers and say she was just using Sansa’s café to promote Highgarden, but never left a card with the vases. Sansa even laughed when her new friend tried to set her up with her older brother.

Tormund’s flirting didn’t bother her anymore, because he was crazy about Brienne, who’d taken to Sansa like an aunt.

Gendry was awfully kind, helping her every time something broke around the café, carrying heavy things for her. It took her months to convince him to call her just Sansa, instead of Miss Stark, but she’d taken to him like a brother –another one.

Gilly loved making Sansa’s frilly aprons, and her baby boy was a treasure. Sam always asked Sansa if she was eating well and taking care of herself.

They were a big family and took so much care of her that Sansa did all she could to repay it as best she could.

Of course, the downside was that they were like a second nosy family and they all wanted to matchmake her with someone.

Also, she knew a bit too much about everyone’s sex life, because God forbid such a thing being private.

She even knew that Margaery had had her nipples pierced by Ygritte, and if that wasn’t way too much information, she didn’t know what was.

Ygritte had been trying to convince Sansa to get a real tattoo, because –apparently –Sansa’s “sorority tattoos” –as Ygritte herself called them –weren’t good enough.

Sansa knew that her tattoos –a small star behind her left ear and the word “family” on her ribs –might look cliché and silly to Ygritte, but she loved delicate things.

Ygritte was a great artist –she had amazing drawings with Celtic designs –but they weren’t Sansa’s style and she admitted it to the other redhead.

Ygritte had accepted that explanation, but made Sansa promise to get a decent tattoo. The Stark girl just laughed and agreed.

They made a weird group, but it was good all the same.

Her family came to visit often and Sansa couldn’t help but notice that –after some time –Robb would always bring her flowers from Margaery’s shop and that he arrived with a blush on his cheeks. She also noticed that Arya had started bringing her motorcycle to Gendry’s shop and the thing seemed to be breaking an awful lot recently.

Both Robb and Arya insisted that she was crazy and there was nothing there.

Sansa never expected that by leaving the security of her family she could have so much. Yes, it was difficult, money was short for the first time in her life. But she was taking care of herself, paying her own bills and she actually felt useful, like she was doing something.

She felt she was worth something, not just a stupid girl.

Joffrey had called her a stupid girl and so had Harry. Petyr called her that like it was term of endearment.

She was not stupid. She was showing them all.

XxX

“Hey, Red. Can you make fifty of those pink glittery cupcakes of yours by Friday?”

Sansa had given up pointing out to Ygritte that they were both redheads and it was strange for the other woman to call her Red.

It made no difference to Ygritte.

“It’s possible.” Sansa confirmed after thinking for a bit. “I thought you hated pink.”

Ygritte was one of the least girly girls Sansa had ever met. Ygritte never wore pink –or lavender and peach, for that matter. She indeed reminded Sansa a lot of Arya, and perhaps that was why her baby sister and the artist got along so well.

“I do.” Ygritte agreed, after taking a sip from her pint. They were at Tormund’s, as usual. “But it isn’t for me. I’ve got a new guy coming to work at the shop and this will be his ‘welcome party’ thing.”

Sansa snorted. “How mature.”

Sansa didn’t normally take orders, because she had –until very recently –run the café by herself. She actually loved doing cupcakes and cakes and decorating them. She was planning on having a workshop for kids during Christmas week, so they could come to the café and decorate cookies and gingerbread men.

Now that she had two people working for her, she had a bit more of time to do things like that, but she normally only did it for her friends.

Ygritte snickered. “Jon is so bloody serious and brooding.” She explained making a face. “Some pink might do him good.”

Margaery turned to face Ygritte so fast that Sansa feared she’d given herself whiplash. “Jon? Jon Snow?” She asked. “The infamous ex-boyfriend?”

Sansa arched a brow. This was a new piece of information to her, she didn’t remember Ygritte ever mentioning an ex-boyfriend, infamous or not.

“Yup.” Ygritte confirmed with a smirk.

Sansa kind of wanted to ask why he was infamous –especially because Margaery said it like it was a good kind of infamy, if that was possible –but time had taught her that she probably didn’t want to know.

Sansa sipped her Cosmopolitan and waited for Margaery to say something else. The Free Folk didn’t serve any type of cocktail –at all –but Sansa had commented once how she missed Cosmopolitans and Tormund had sighed and grumbled, but eventually Brienne made him learn how to make them for her. Margaery loved it, because she spent a long time trying to convince him to prepare anything for her, but couldn’t and now they had Cosmos.

Tormund refused to make them for anybody else and the two glasses he had and everything needed to make the drink was kept separate, just for the two ladies.

Tormund was such a sweetheart sometimes.

“Jon, you say?” The man himself spoke. “The lad with the dark hair and a mighty frown?”

Ygritte nodded.

“How come I’ve never heard of him?” Sansa finally asked.

“Don’t know.” Ygritte shrugged. “I don’t go around talking about past guys. Or girls.” Margaery snickered from her seat. “But Jon and I are still friends. He’s been around once or twice. Sam knows him.”

The doctor, upon hearing his name, turned to them too. “Who?”

“Jon.” Margaery offered.

“Oh yes.” Sam smiled. “He’s nice.”

“I’ve never met him.” Margaery informed Sansa. “Just heard the stories.” She traded a smirk with Ygritte and Sansa was defeated by her curiosity.

“Ok… What is he infamous for?” She asked, knowing she was likely to regret it.

The smirk on Ygritte’s face was positively filthy. “For how good he is at oral. Quite enthusiastic at it, too.”

Sansa could hear Sam berating Ygritte for saying something like that and she could feel how hot her face was, as she blushed.

“Ygritte!” She chided the other woman. “Seriously, what’s with you? Now I’ll look at the guy and imagine him between your legs.”

Just after she had said it she realized how terrible that sounded.

Margaery was cackling in delight and even Ygritte and Tormund were laughing, while Gilly giggled and Sansa felt her face heat up even more.

“You can always imagine him going down on you, if you want.” Ygritte offered with another grin.

“Oh my God!” Sansa covered her face with her hands, because she couldn’t believe where this conversation had gone.

Not that she was shocked, more often than not they ended up talking about sex.

She didn’t even know the guy!

“I’m offering as a friend.” Ygritte spoke, fake sympathy in her voice, as she patted Sansa in the back.

Sansa snorted before she could stop herself.

Margaery arched a brow. “Sansa… You’ve had a guy go down on you before, right?” She asked carefully, lower so only the three other women could hear the question.

Sansa refused to answer that question.

“You’re shitting us, right?” Ygritte demanded.

This time Sansa just shook her head.

She had never explained how terrible her past relationships had been. She did tell Margaery and Gilly a bit more about them, but honestly, she had softened it so much they had no idea. She didn’t want them to look at her and see the poor rich girl with shitty taste in men.

So no, no oral sex, no good sex at all, to be honest. When she’d dated Joffrey she was way younger and those things didn’t cross her mind. Harry thought it was disgusting, even though he all but demanded she did it for him. Then there was Petyr Baelish…

He had been all charming, taking advantage of her when she was fragile, still shaken because of her breakup with Harry. He was way older than her –old enough to be her father –and he had cajoled her with sweet words and promises until he managed to get her in his bed.

Then he showed her his true colors, all the promises of sweet pleasure left behind for his own enjoyment.

Sansa never felt worse than she did the morning after that night.

The three other women traded looks between them, like they were having some kind of telepathic conversation. Eventually Gilly was the one to speak, “That’s fine, darling.”

Sansa cleared her throat. “Oh, sure. My fault for having crappy boyfriends, I guess.”

Ygritte was frowning and ready to open her mouth, when Margaery cut her. “Well, darling, some nice human being invented ‘massagers’ just for that.” She even made the quote signs around the word massager. “Fantastic little things.”

Sansa was squealing with laughter and telling Margaery to shut up, but at least she wasn’t sad anymore.

It was okay, because Margaery, Gilly and Ygritte had every intention of making sure that Sansa lived her life to the fullest. And –hopefully –got laid in the process.

#madame baggio #fanfiction #images not mine #crackship #modern au #game of thrones #Sansa Stark #jon snow #jonsa #Sansa x Jon #fluff fic

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americasmarauders · 5 years ago

Text

Fancy Green Lantern-- Jason Todd.

notes: this is just something that plagued my mind for a while until i decided to write it. enjoy.

masterlist

Dick jumped from one roof to another. The wind blew softly, ruffling his already messy dark hair. His batons tightly wrapped on his back, secure should the occasion of using them arrived.

Blüdhaven was exceptionally quiet that night. Granted, it was no Gotham, but it still guaranteed local vigilante Nightwing some action. Dick had not seen one petty theft or any other attempts of criminal activities. It almost made him feel useless. Almost.

Arriving at the edge of a building, he heard faint sounds of gun shots. He looked down, and saw three (he wasn’t sure, there may be more, and it was too dark to see properly) bodies sprawled out on the dirty floor of the alleyway. He searched for the perpetuator of such violence. He should have seen it coming.

Dick jumped off the building and landed lightly on his tiptoes right next to the shooter. “Was Gotham getting too boring for you, Red Hood?” Dick asked.

Red Hood turned around to face Nightwing. Unlike last time Dick had seen him, he wasn’t wearing his signature scarlet helmet. It was merely a muzzle and a domino mask. Dick liked this version better, it was more human, it gave less of the impression of a cold-blooded mercenary and more of a, well, cold-blooded human. “Fuck off, Golden Child, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Red Hood snapped.

“Those bodies beg to differ, Jason,” Dick emphasized his name.

Jason’s eyes narrowed, and even with the mask, Dick could tell that he had pissed him off, ever so slightly. “They are not dead. They just didn’t agree to give me the information I need,” he grunted in anger, furiously eyeing the unconscious but alive bodies on the alley.

“So, you judged it would be okay to shoot them,” Dick concluded.

“Yes, that much is obvious, isn’t it?” Jason retorted sarcastically. And then silence fell between them.

Jason was cleaning his guns when Dick spoke again. “So, what information were you looking for?”

“None of your business,” Jason put his guns back on its holsters and grabbed his grappling, planning on leaving nosy Dick Grayson and his never-ending questions.

“It actually is now. You are in my city, shooting people on my alleyways. The moment you stepped foot on Blüdhaven it became my business,” Dick argued. And, damn, did Jason hate his logic. It was all Bruce, and he doubted that Dick could see it.

“You see how pathetic that little speech was, right?” Jason scoffed. Dick eyed him sternly, like a mother trying to pry off information from her kid. “Fine. There is a gang, if you will, smuggling kids off the streets of Gotham and selling them as slaves. I am trying to dismantle them, but those idiots back there where the only lead I’ve had for months and now I’m back to square one,” he grunted angrily. Dick noticed that, with Jason, the conversations were usually filed with grunts and angry mumbles.

Dick sighed, defeated. He could leave it be, leave Jason to fend off this mob on his own and save potentially thousands of kids from awful childhoods and most certainly awful adulthoods. But he simply wouldn’t leave him be. This was too important. And he knew Jason’s weakness was kids, especially street kids. “I’ll help,” he said.

“I don’t need your help, Grayson, and I doubt there is much that you can do that I can’t,” Jason argued.

“I’m not offering nor asking for permission, Jay. And strictly speaking, it won’t be me who will help you,” Dick explained.

Jason, once again, narrowed his eyes at Dick, trying to study him. It intrigued him, and maybe he was needing more help than he wanted to believe. “Fine.”

Both vigilantes sneakily got in the small apartment through the window. It was a central building, right next to the University and Jason figured close enough to the precinct Dick worked for. Jason got in last, and Dick closed the window after it, pulling the curtains shut.

Jason was left in the middle of what he guessed was the living room. There wasn’t much, a TV, a couch and a couple of armchairs, but it was enough to be considered cozy. The kitchen was right next to it, and Jason could see that Dick used it a lot, judging by the amount of plates that need to be washed. The dinner table had flowers as a central piece, and it was neatly arranged, a stark contrast from the sink only a few feet away from it.

“The flowers are not mine, they’re my roommate’s,” Dick mentioned, as he noticed Jason gawking at it.

Roommate? Jason judged it weird. He never would have thought of Dick as a roommate type of person. He guessed he was more of a loner. Then again, judging by the amount of superhero groups Dick had been a part of, Jason may be wrong about that guess.

“I’ll go get her,” Dick mentioned, ripping off his mask and heading towards Y/N’s room.

Dick knocked lightly on the closed door and by the lack of response, he knew she was already sleeping. He pushed the door open and closed it with a soft thud. In the dark, he carefully made his way towards the end of her bed. He sat on the edge of it and softly laid his hand on her feet. “Hey,” he shook her slightly, “wake up, I need your help.”

Y/N groaned, “What time is it?” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Too late to be up, too early to wake up,” Dick said, a smirk creeping its way on his face.

“Your favorite time of the day, then,” she retorted, getting up to a sitting position, and rubbing her eyes. “What is that you need?”

“There is a gang kidnapping kids from the streets of Gotham and selling them as slaves, and I need you to find a lead,” Dick said.

“Isn’t Babs better suited for the job? She lives in Gotham,” Y/N quizzed, her voice still sleepy. Dick knew she was trying to find a way out of this, but he knew she was the best person for the job.

“Honestly I didn’t even think to ask her,” Dick said to her. And he really hadn’t, because somehow, he knew she was perfect to deal with Jason. “Please, I’ll owe you one,” he pleaded.

“And another debt to your endless list of favors,” she said, getting out of bed. “Someday, I’ll actually collect them,” she strided towards the door and opened it.

“Thank you!” he exclaimed while she was getting out of her bedroom. She waved him off.

Y/N rubbed her eyes while she made her way towards the kitchen. She reached for the kettle and opened it. At the sight of the pile of dirty dishes to wash, she cringed. She swore, Dick should be able to handle his responsibilities better and she couldn’t believe she would end up cleaning them again. She opened the tap and filled the kettle with water. After it was already on the stove, she turned around and leaned against the counter. She looked around the apartment and she was slightly surprised at the sight of a stranger, which she guessed was eyeing her curiously. She didn’t know, after all, she couldn’t see his eyes.

“Dick?” she called him. He scrambled out of his room, towel wrapped around his waist, ready for a shower. After 2 years of living with him, she didn’t even spare a glance at his physique, which intrigued Jason. “Why is there a stranger in a muzzle in our living room?”

Dick’s shoulder’s relaxed. “Oh, this is…” he glanced at Jason, searching for a signal if it was okay to tell her his identity.

Jason snapped out of the daze he was in, got up and extended his hand to her. “I’m Red Hood.”

She shook his hand, narrowed her eyes at him. Dick knew that look. Her mind was already at work, trying to figure who he was. He bet by the end of the night she would already know. “Nice to meet you, Red Hood. I’m the person who’s going to help you,” Y/N said.

“Great, let’s get to work then,” Jason dropped her hand, and smiled under his muzzle (was it really a muzzle?).

“Sure, just let me get my computer,” she left towards her room. Jason eyed Dick, who had a smirk on his face. He knew something that Jason didn’t, and he didn’t like that feeling.

She came back to the living room moments later, and dropped her computer, a notebook and pencils on the table. She moved the flowers away from the center of the table and spread her things on it. She pulled a chair and sat down in a funny way. She then looked back at Jason, “Well, sit down I can’t work without knowing where to look.”

Jason promptly hurried towards the chair next to her. He sat down and tried to keep his cool façade. She blushed at the awkward silence between them. “Just say what is your problem and I’ll hack my way to a lead for you.”

This woman was weird. No, she made Jason feel weird, that was a better description. “I’ve noticed some unusual things a couple of months when I was patrolling Crime Alley. Some street kids that I often check on were missing, and no one I, uh, talked to had information about them. So, I started to ask different questions and discovered this operation. Now, I’m here,” He finished, as she typed away. He was impressed that with very little information she was able to start hacking. Babs would need a little bit more out of him.

The kettle started to whistle, and Jason was about to get up to turn it off, when he saw the stove button turn by itself. The kettle then started to float towards the cup with a tea bag in it, started to pour boiling water in then returned to the stove. The cup floated towards the table landing perfectly next to the girl’s hand.

Jason had seen freakier things, but this was definitely one of the freakier. He then noticed the pile of dishes in the sink was significantly smaller, and one of those dishes was currently being washed down, but no one was there to wash it. He turned to the girl again, who was now having a sip of her tea and reading lines of codes on her computer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask, would you like a cup of tea?” she turned to him, her eyes twinkling.

“No, thank you,” Jason started, “How did you that?”

“That what?” she turned again to her computer, now analyzing security camera footage. She scribbled something on the notebook beside her, and Jason couldn’t decipher it even if he wanted.

“You know, the floating cup thing. The dishes washing themselves, all that,” Jason explained.

She smiled, still looking at the computer. “The mind is a powerful thing, Jason. I just happen to be gifted with the knowledge of how to harness that power.”

“How do you know my name?” Jason said, slightly scared, but he would never allow himself to show it. He breezed over the enigma she had presented to him. He would have to question Dick about it later.

“Oh, once you know the identity of one Batfamily member, it’s easy to figure out the rest, so I just went by elimination,” she tapped away a little bit more. “You can take the mask and the muzzle off if you want. And the cups are on the second cupboard to the left, if you want tea now.”

Jason was left speechless, and that didn’t happen often. This girl was…extraordinary. Dick soon waltzed into the room, towel hanging from his shoulder and wearing the most hideous pajamas Jason had ever seen. “So, everything good around here?”

Jason got up from his chair and grunted to Dick, “A word,” while waking past him and entering what he assumed—and thank God it was—Dick’s room. The woman was unfazed by this interaction and continued to type her way.

Dick entered his room once again and closed the door behind him. “What is it, Jason?” he had ripped off his mask and muzzle. They were already bothering him anyway and there no point keeping it on.

“Who is she?” he growled.

Dick was slightly taken back by this. “What do you mean ‘who is she’? She’s my roommate, Y/N.”

“No, I mean, who is she?” Jason corrected.

“Oh, oh,” realization dawning on Dick. He smirked. “She figured it out, didn’t she?”

“She figured it out, didn’t she?” he mocked Dick. “Yes, she figured it out!”

Dick tried not laugh, but he just couldn’t help it. “Why are you laughing, you dick?” Jason borderline yelled.

“It’s because you don’t know her,” Dick said between laughs. “If you did, you’d know that there was no way that she wouldn’t figure it out, Jay. She’s too powerful to not.”

“She is freaky that’s what!” Jason continued to freak out.

“Says the guy who came back from the dead,” Dick argued. “Look, Jason, I know you’re freaked out because she figured it out and you didn’t want to. But I’ve been living with her for about two years, and when I say it was inevitable that she worked out who you are, I mean it,” Dick saw that Jason’s breathing had calmed. “Y/N is one of the most trustworthy people I know, and she will take this secret to the grave. I can vouch for her, and Babs can too.”

“Babs knows her?” Jason questioned.

“She’s one of Babs oldest friends,” Dick responded, knowing Jason had a somewhat of a soft spot for Barbara.

Jason sighed and begrudgingly said “Fine. I have a question, though.”

“Sure.”

“She said something about the mind being powerful and some other bullshit I didn’t pay attention to, and what was that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” Dick said “She never told anyone about how her powers work or how she got them. We just know that she can do anything she wants to,”

“So, what, is she some fancy Green Lantern?”

“Not exactly.”

There was a knock on the door. “Can I come in?” she said, muffled. Dick opened the door and reveled her, not in her pajamas anymore, but wearing black head to toe, and holding one of Dick’s old masks. Her hair was braided, and Jason tried to figure out how can she do that with so little time. “I found something, and you’re not going to like it.”

Jason groaned in irritation. “What is it now?”

“I dig up some security footage and those guys you fought tonight, they were a decoy,” she said, which earned her an angry groan from Jason. “Then I did some more digging and I found some conversation records. There is a bunch of kids being moved today from Gotham’s docs.”

“When?” Jason said rubbing his face, trying to not blame himself for messing up and leaving Gotham that night. There was no way he would have known.

“Half an hour from now,” she said.

“Fuck,” Jason said lowly.

“I’ll go put my suit on again,” Dick said making a motion towards his wardrobe.

“No, you just got home. I’ll go with Jason. If we want to make in time you know I must take us there,” she argued. Dick knew she had won this one.

“Take us there how, exactly?” Jason questioned, taking a step forward, his mask and muzzle in hand.

“You know exactly how,” she smirked.

Jason groaned yet again. Of all the turns he thought his night could have, he was not expecting being teleported from Blüdhaven to Gotham by a weird girl he had met, what, an hour ago. If only he had ignored Dick, things would have been much, much easier for him. No, this is for the kids, he thought. And he would do everything for the kids.

“Let’s go then, weirdo,” Jason rushed her. She smiled and put on the mask she was gripping. It suited her more than suited Dick.

They positioned themselves above the ground, hidden for anyone from below them, but perfect to view everything from above. She was smiling, and Jason couldn’t help but glance sideways at her. The situation was grim, and she was smiling. She must have noticed that he was looking at her, because her smile faltered, and she mumbled an apology.

“I’ve never done field work, I’m just excited,” she quietly explained. Jason turned his glance downwards and his eyes landed on group of 7 thugs all surrounding a specific container, that was about to be loaded to the ship currently docked at the port.

“Be quiet,” he said. She followed his gaze towards the group of thugs and perked her ears up to listen in to their conversation.

“They mention something about a mask,” she said to him. “I can’t distinguish there is too much noise coming from the container.”

“Shit,” Jason grunted. “I’m gonna take those guys out, you take care of the kids,” he explained.

“But they are heavily armed, you’ll need help,” she protested.

“I can take care of myself,” he said. “I have a plan,” then disappeared from her sight.

Y/N sighed. She would have liked to know the plan. But, for now, she should stick to what she was told to do. She started to move towards the container that held the children, wishing she wouldn’t be seen, and knowing for a fact she wouldn’t. The closer she got to the container, the louder the noise got. Screams and cries of help form children of all ages, but mostly very young, if she had to guess.

She broke the lock of the container but willed the doors shut. Red Hood hadn’t dealt with all the thugs, yet, and the kids running rampant while armed men were fighting was not a good idea.

She looked at him. He was struggling. She knew if she let him deal with on his own, giving him maybe a few more minutes, he could take all the armed men down. There were only a couple left anyway. But she was in a hurry, and the kids were more important than a display of power Red Hood was trying to do.

She strode towards two men who had their back turned to her, stopping a few feet behind them. She willed herself to flicker just for Jason, just a heads up that she was near enough. She then smashed the armed men guns with her bare hands, twisted the barrels in a weird shape, making sure they couldn’t use it. Finally, she gracefully knocked them out, making herself appear again.

“I told you to take care of the kids,” Jason said, knocking the last one of the thugs unconscious.

“I did take care of the kids,” she said. “I told you would need help.”

“I didn’t need it, I had everything under control,” he walked towards the container, her trailing behind him.

“You didn’t. I helped, it was faster, and safer, might I add,” she said, as a matter-of-factly.

He hummed, and she was not sure if it was in agreement or if he was just trying to move on from the subject. “Do you know what you are going to do with them?” she asked following him as he walked towards the open container.

“Free them,” he said, grumpily.

“Yes, I know,” she said, “but you can’t just let them back at the street. They might get captured again.”

“They won’t,” he answered.

“How’d you know?”

“Because I have a plan,” he said, giving her the sensation of a déjà vu.

“Tell me then, your plan.”

Jason stopped at his tracks, shocked at her bluntness. “They are not going back to the street because I won’t let them. I have a place where they can stay, and we are going to take them there.”

“And where exactly is this place?” she inquired again.

“It’s just outside the city, don’t worry,” he said.

“I’m not, I’m just wondering how we are going to take what 40 plus kids to ‘just outside the city’” she mumbled.

“Well,” he said cheekily, “I promise I’ll help.”

She sighed in resignation. ‘Do it for the kids,’ she thought. “Fine,” she said.

“Don’t you need the address, or something?” Jason inquired, as she walked towards the bunch of scared kids.

“Try ‘or something’,” she said. She then knelt in front of the kids, a warm smile on her face. She tried to convey safety to them, and Jason admired that. “You are safe now. We are going to give you somewhere to sleep and eat, but for that I’m going to need to take you in small groups, okay?” she said calmly. The attentive faces of the kids soften a little and some nodded in agreement.

“Great,” she smiled again. She got up and turned to Jason. “Is there someone in this place to take care of these kids, because I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them alone in a strange place,” she argued.

“Don’t worry, I have someone there right now,” he responded.

“Are they competent?” she questioned.

“Depends on your definition of competent,” he smirked underneath his half-mask, (yes, it was not a muzzle).

“Oh God,” she sighed, exasperated. “I’m going to start to take them there.”

“And I’ll tell them you are coming,” Jason said.

After that night, Jason could not believe, they had made progress. Actual progress and not that half-assed steps he had made before. And he could not believe also that the safe house he started was working perfectly. Admittedly, maybe recruiting only Roy to help him run it was a bad idea, but Y/N was helping tremendously too.

The kids came and went. They couldn’t keep them there all the time, otherwise they would be just as bad as those they were trying to combat. The most of those 40 kids they had first rescued had gone, but some stayed to help around the safe house, and Jason was grateful for that, even though he would never admit it.

Y/N had stayed too. She was everything and more, Jason realized. Just when he thought she couldn’t surprise him, she did something and swept him off his feet. He didn’t like that Y/N had some much control over him, but then he saw her, and everything changed in his mind. Roy would see that and tease him endlessly. No matter how many times he said that she was nothing more than an ally, Roy would give that look—that fucking look that made him blow his brains out of his head—and he would know that he was right. Jason would have to kill Dick for introducing her to him.

The night was quiet. They were planning a stake out just outside what they believe would be the operations building of the trafficking scheme, so before that, there was nothing else left to do other than patrol the streets to make sure the kids were okay and not missing in the slightest. That left him so much time to think. He hated that.

He was definitely not falling in love with her. That would be ridiculous. It would have to imply that he maybe thought she could love him back and he thought that maybe he couldn’t be loved. Could he? But Y/N was so amazing, she could surprise him. Like she always did.

No, this was just his mind playing tricks on him. It’s all Roy’s fault really, if it wasn’t for his insinuations Jason wouldn’t be thinking about this at all. Or maybe he would be, and Roy just gave him a push towards the path he was in to speed it up a little bit.

So, what if he was falling in love with her? What could possibly be bad about that? He wouldn’t be lonely anymore, that was a good thing. And he would have a great companion with him, because she was amazing. He would finally have someone to take to meet Alfred, after all the old man was subtly pressuring him to put himself out there and meet someone. It just so happens that he met someone in the same ‘work field’ as him. That wasn’t bad.

Or it actually was, because if someone discovered his identity, they could kidnap her and torture her, or worse and that made Jason’s blood boil out of anger and fear. He could never put her through that. He had something to prevent it from happening, he could never, ever, be with her. That way Y/N was out of harm’s way.

What was he thinking? She could t—

“J, code black. Our location is compromised,” Y/N said in his comms.

He took a millisecond to process her information. He immediately took a turn and headed towards their house. “Are the kids okay?”

“Yes, they are all with me, but I can’t take much longer. There are too many of them, Roy won’t be able to hold them back for too long,” she said, panting a bit.

“Please, hold on,” he begged.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m going to take them somewhere else.”

“Where? Please, hang on, Y/N,” he rushed her, nervously.

“Ask Babs, she’ll know,” then her comms went static.

Babs knew. She knew more than Jason anticipated.

He helped Roy take down the rest of the invaders. Then they took everything compromising from the house and headed to the address Babs had given him. To say it surprised him would be predictable because coming from her, of course it would.

This place could rival B’s place in magnitude. It was huge and intimidating. If Jason himself hadn’t lived in some place similar he would have felt weirded out by it. But he was in no place to judge. Roy and Jason had stripped themselves of their gear already when then were confronted with the door of what appeared to be Y/N’s Manor.

Jason barely knocked on the door when a stoic looking woman opened the doors and ushered them inside. He could hear the kids talking in the distance, but there were more pressing matters to be dealt with. “Y/N said to usher Roy to help the children and for Jason to find her. Now, which one of you is which?” the woman said sternly.

“I’m Roy,” Roy said quickly, probably out of fear, or something.

The lady hummed. “The kids are in the guests house. You just follow through the door and you’ll hear them,” she said with a bit of disdain in her voice. Roy ushered himself of the awkward and somewhat overwhelming situation Jason found himself in. Lucky bastard. “That must mean you are Jason,” she eyed him head to toe. “I can see what she meant.”

“What did she mean?” he inquired following her as she started to walk up the huge staircase.

“Nothing of your concern, I’m afraid,” she dismissed him. “Y/N is very ill after the stunt she pulled to help you I’m hoping you have an apology up your sleeve.”

“Apology?” he said in shock “I’m sorry but she did what she did in her own accord. I didn’t force her to do anything.”

“You must be really special,” the lady said. “Her room is the last one to the right. It took me quite some time to pry her off the children, so, if you will, please be quiet, she must be sleeping by now.”

With that the lady abandoned him on top of the staircase, alone to muster up courage to face potentially the love of his life. (Potentially only, he hadn’t yet sorted all of his feelings).

He walked towards the room. He hoped something would happen in the middle of the way, that Y/N would suddenly jump from her bed, find in the middle of the hallway and say ‘I’m okay now, you don’t need to say anything to me. We can go back to hunting these fuckers with no feelings involved’ but with every step he took he realized that nothing was going to happen. He would have to tell her something.

He hesitated when he was faced with the door. Her name was written on it, in a pretty color. His hand hovered the doorknob. He would do this. He should do this. He owed that to himself and Y/N. He had to be honest to both of them. God, how he wanted to kill Grayson for complicating his life.

Jason finally opened the door. The room was dark, and Y/N’s soft breathing echoed through it. She was peacefully asleep, covered by soft blankets, her all black outfit and mask sprawled out on the floor.

He slowly closed the door, careful to be as stealthy as possible. He figured it could be slightly creepy that he was walking into a sleeping woman’s bedroom, unannounced. Jason shrugged the thought off and looked for a place where he could crash that was not her bed. He found a large and somehow soft armchair next to a gigantic bookcase littered with the most random books. It ranged from It to all Harry Potter books, passing through all of Shakespeare’s plays and all in between those. Jason’s heart swelled and he swore he fell in love with her a little bit more. If he had fallen in love with her that is. Which he had.

He made himself comfortable at the armchair, resisting the need to pick one of the Shakespeare plays at his disposal to read until the sun rose in the horizon. Jason would have to wait until Y/N woke to talk to her. He took off his shoes and hugged his legs. Easily, against all odds, he fell asleep.

Jason woke up and noticed a very fluffy blanket on top of him. He stretched his arms and legs. The room was oddly quiet. No echoes of Y/N’s breathing, nor shuffling through bed sheets he had heard the night before.

He took the blanket off him, and folded neatly, placing it on the chair he had slept on. Her bed was empty, and Jason’s heart tightened thinking that something had happened, and no one cared to wake him up. He looked around and noticed that the clothes that were on the floor were no longer there, but her mask was on top of her nightstand. Her bed was neatly made, almost looking like no one had slept in it.

The door made a loud creaking noise, making him turn hastily so see it. Y/N was carrying a hot mug, oozing a delicious coffee smell and a plate with a freshly baked croissant on it. Jason’s heart stopped beating erratically at the bad thoughts that had once passed through his head and focused on her. She was there. She was alive. She had brought him food. She was out for his heart.

“I thought you’d be hungry when you woke up, so I brought you some food,” she said, laying the mug and the plate on a coffee table near the armchair Jason had slept on.

“Thank you,” he said picking up the mug. “Are you okay?”

She smiled. “I’m better. But my head can’t seem to stop pounding.”

Jason smiled at her lighthearted comment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there I—”

“Jason, stop. Don’t give me that ‘It’s my fault’ bullshit, ‘cause it wasn’t. It could have happened to anyone, and I’m glad I was there to take the kids out,” she said.

“Are the kids okay?” he was so worried about her that the thought of any of the kids getting hurt hadn’t come to haunt him. He trusted her so much that subconsciously, he knew she would never let that happen.

“Physically, yes. Mentally, I don’t know, it was quite a shock to everyone,” she sat on the armchair.

Silence fell between them. Jason quietly ate his breakfast as he contemplated whether he should tell her. He felt like a stupid teen, picking petals out of flowers wondering if she loves me, she loves me not. “I need to tell you something,” Jason blurted out.

“Okay, then,” she reacted.

“I—” he gulped. “I can’t seem to say it,” he whispered.

“It’s okay you don’t have to,” she smiled.

“No, I need to. It’s been killing me inside,” he said. “I can’t go on with this without being completely honest with you,” if only Roy could hear him now, he would laugh so hard. “I think, no, that’s not right.”

“Jason, it’s okay. Start over,” she said softly.

“I might have feelings for you,” he finally said it.

“Might?”

“I have feelings for you, and it has been eating me inside. Every time I look at you my heart goes crazy, and I used to feel so confused at it, but now I know why.”

She was stunned and Jason regretted his decision immediately. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry, can you just ignore I said anything it would—”

“Jay, stop, just stop talking,” she said. She took his hands out of his face and hold it tightly with hers. She smiled brightly at him, and there went his heart again, thinking it was funny to play heart attack with a guy like Jason. “I can’t pretend you didn’t say anything. Because I might have feelings for you too, and it might be eating me inside as well.”

Jason smiled. “Really?”

“Yes. Although, I can’t say my heart beats as wildly as yours does,” she said laughing softly.

“Ah, I forgot you can hear it.”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“How long have you known then?” he questioned. “That I like you,” he should have said love, but he didn’t want to freak Y/N out.

She smirked. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while. Mostly because Roy kept making suggestive comments about it.”

“Stupid fucking Roy,” he grunted under his breath, making her laugh deliciously.

“Yeah,” she breathed out with a smile. Jason looked softly at her. “You know, I wouldn’t mid if you, somehow, happened to kiss me,” she said cheekily.

“You cheeky bastard,” he laughed. He scooted over to her, stopping close enough so that he could at least rest his hands on her. “Can I kiss you?”

She smiled brightly. “Well,” she said amused, “I don’t see why not.”

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