Hey guys! I hope that everyone is having a supremely good day today! I’m sorta shy to post this because I’ve never written a sexy-time before, but I gave it a go lol. Basically, Tom and the reader go to the library and Tom gets a little frustrated by the book the reader picks out for him, and then, sexy-time ensues. I hope you like it!
Dirty, Pretty Things
He had lost her within the sea of words that had engulfed them both.
When Tom had first entered the grand library, the sight of so many shelves completely drenched in knowledge blew his eyes wide open. She, on the other hand, had immersed herself, diving in and out of shelves quickly, and coming out with towering stacks of novels. Tom watched, hands in his pockets, as she piled the literature as high as it could go without falling.
Grabbing her readings, he moved them to a secluded corner, where he sat down on the floor to wait for her to come back to him.
As she fluttered about, rushing in between sections and up and down staircases, her skin gave off a soft sheen of champagne that he knew came from her ridiculously expensive highlighter. The heels of her boots tapped anxiously across the floor. Sounding as though they were afraid they’d only be granted a set amount of time to wander through the library. The straps of the dress his girlfriend wore began to slip off her shoulders and she failed to fix them to their proper place again. When she bent down, Tom noticed that her position revealed a more than generous amount of her legs. He bit his lip and tried to ignore how alluringly endearing she looked.
Tom loved to watch her like this. She looked incredibly at home nestled inside the library’s massive selection of books. She wasn’t worried about other people, or how they could be perceiving her. Instead, her only focus was on choosing the best and most interesting novel to read.
After about forty minutes, she finally came back to him, carrying four more books in her hands.
“I picked some out for you to read as well,” she said, nestling decisively underneath his arm.
Due to the spot Tom had secured, she was sat directly next to the left corner of the wall with Tom cuddled into her right side. Tom beamed at her and pressed an open mouthed kiss to her lips. “What did you get for me darling?”
“Well, firstly, I grabbed you the first Harry Potter book because I think that it’s absolute insanity that you haven’t read it yet. Then, I grabbed Horns and The Shining, in case your in the mood for horror, but, if all else fails, maybe you could try Hidden Bodies or Dirty, Pretty Things?” She began to ramble on about why she had selected each novel and then stopped short. “Oh, shit, I should go back and bring you Fight Club, I really think that-.” Tom quickly wrapped an arm around her middle, securing her back down on the floor.
“No, no, I’m excited to read Dirty, Pretty Things. That’s the poetry book you’ve been off about with Kaylee, right? I want to read that one.” Tom watched her pull the thin, pink book out of the stack to hand to him.
She looked shy handing it over to him. As soon as his hands slid over the front cover, she quickly interjected, “you may not like it, but the words are just lovely and they make me,” she stopped short and shuddered.
Tom quirked a brow, “oh yeah? Better get started then.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and rustled her hair.
Tom watched as she leaned forward and bit her lip, trying to decide what she wanted to read first. Eventually, she settled on A Tale For the Time Being and curled up against his chest.
Tom’s eyes skimmed over poem after poem, and he began to understand why she spoke so much about it, just not directly to him. The book was written about love, and carnal attraction and she was forever timorous.
The poetry in Dirty, Pretty Things was beginning to get to him, especially when he thought about her reading it. Michael Faudet’s words were dulcet and enticing, and Tom imagined whispering them softly into her ear, as he slipped his hands up her skirt.
Tom’s mind briefly wandered to her getting off on the words within the book and had to stop for a few seconds to recompose himself. He glanced down at her. The words on the page of her book seemed to leap and dance off the page, mocking him for being of more interest to her than he was. Shaking his head, he tried not to look at the uncovered, sweet smelling, perfumed, skin of her chest. Going back to his own book, he attempted to allow the book’s poetry to command his full attention once again.
The first poem Tom encountered as he flipped the page nearly killed him. He stopped breathing and read over the words three more times before letting out a shaker gasp.
The only words on the page were, “Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you’ve been dying to read.”
Tom looked from the poem to her, then again and again before he felt his jeans getting even tighter than they were before. This had to be a sign. Shit, they were in a library, surrounded by books, all alone in a dimly lit corner of the library. Not to mention, books and literature were her favorite things in the word. She had told him a while ago that the best compliment she’d ever received had been from slew of teachers who had all insisted that she had the best taste in books they’d seen in a long time. Michael Faudet’s words were taunting him.
“Baby,” he started, gently tilting her chin up to look at him. “I’m bored.”
She frowned, “do you not like the book because I can go and grab you another, or maybe-,” Tom cut her short by sliding a soft hand across her throats to sweep her hair off her shoulder.
“Let’s trade. You can read Dirty, Pretty Things out loud to me. I’m sleepy and I wanna listen to you read the poems.” Tom gently guided his book into her palms.
She flushed red and stuttered for a minute. “Tom, I can’t.
“Why not?” He countered.
“You’ve read it,” She muttered, looking away from him. “The words are libidinous.”
Tom brought her eyes back to his and licked his lips before he spoke. “I wanna hear you read them darling.” He moved to kiss the spot just below her lips. Tom dared lower and lower, tangling his hands in her hair as he went. When he reached her collarbones, she finally snapped.
Letting out an airy sigh, she gasped out, “fine Tom.”
He smirked and placed a final kill on the base of her throat and corrected his posture so that he was sitting with his arms protectively circling her frame.
She moved to flip to the next page when Tom interrupted her. “Do you mind reading from the beginning? I wanna hear it all in your voice.”
Narrowing her eyes, she flipped back to the first page and began to read. As she read through the first few poems, Tom’s hands began to totter.
First, he slipped them up and down her arms, feigning an effort to keep her warm. Then, he began to give her small kisses on the forehead, cheek, neck and hand. She looked at him, slightly confused as to why he’d ask her to read out loud if he wasn’t going to pay attention.
Nevertheless, she kept reading.
As she flipped the page, her breathing was cut short. Tom knew exactly which poem she’d stumbled across. “Sweetheart, do you want to play a game?” Tom asked her, his voice rough and low in her ear.
She blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed cherry red as she managed to stutter out a few syllables.
“How about I tell you the rules first?” He paused briefly, and then began to talk. “The book you’ve chosen for me has actually proven itself to be quite the naughty thing and I think that you gave it to me on purpose. Since you like to play so many little games instead of just telling me directly what you want, I think that maybe I’ll give games a go too.” Tom stopped to look at her again. Her pupils had consumed the typical color of her eyes and her hands were slightly shaking. Taking them within his own, he kissed the backs of both of her hands.
“If you’ll allow me, I’d very much like to reenact that poem. You are the book that I’ve been dying to read.”
Her eyes shut and she bit her lip to contain the moan threatening to slip past.
“Here’s the catch though, I still want you to read to me. If you stop reading out loud, I’ll stop what I’m doing and you wouldn’t want that, would you?” Tom peppered her neck with open mouthed kisses.
She nodded her head, eyes still shut tight.
“No, darling, I need verbal consent, just to be sure.” Tom continued his assault on her neck.
Her eyes finally snapped open and she rolled her head around to look directly into Tom’s eyes. “Please.” She whispered.
With that, Tom smirked and lifted the hem of her dress and slipped his hand further up her thighs.
Her voice shook, “the kind of love letter I write are the ones you read in bed, stretched out beneath the sheets with one hand between your legs.”
Tom pressed his mouth to her and she convulsed against his lips, gasping out the words to the next line.
…a story was a form of telepathy. By means of inking symbols onto a page, she was able to send thoughts and feelings from her mind to her reader’s. It was a magical process, so commonplace that no one stopped to wonder at it.
Do you have a favorite character? Do you have a favorite non-pov character?
Thanks for the question!
Favorite POV character: Sansa Stark. No contest. I love her characterization, her genre archetype, her chapters’ themes, her inner monologue and her fascinating journey throughout the books.
I love her characterization and, hell, I even appreciate it in A Game of Thrones. Yes, she was a snob and a brat who wanted things to be nice, the knights to be chivalrous, the queens to be graceful and the princes to be sweet, but she’s eleven at that time and all that idealism and naivety only made Ned’s execution all the more heartbreaking, opening the trapdoor underneath Sansa and causing her to fall into that horrific reality of King’s Landing.
Also, it’s really nice to have a classic princess that still has substance. In fact, I think Sansa was my first of the archetype to be given a rich density of character. I know, by now, Sansa’s genre archetype is old hat and has been done time and time again, given a more deconstruction-conscious fantasy market, but Sansa still calls to an inherent part of me that I’ll get to later on below.
Her chapters’ themes? Internal resistance, idealism, abuse, survival, story-and-song thinking, lies, knighthood, femininity, navigating the rules of high society and patriarchy, empathy, romanticism, the eventual disillusionment from reality and kindness-under-pressure… they’re universal (and even relevant to this day) and I can always return to them whenever I reread a book.
Her internal monologue is super crucial to the heart of Sansa’s characterization because A Clash of Kings and A Storm of Swords constantly play in her head. Passages and pages can turn as her mind whirls and the gears in her mind start to work. Anyone who tells you that Sansa is just a passive pawn clearly doesn’t read hard enough because she’s making active resistance in her mind against the Lannisters and thinking over the political implications of letters sent to her, trying to figure out if they can be trusted and which one she can take up while being safe.
She has an amazing character arc that takes her from a naive, head-in-the-clouds girl to an abused political prisoner actively resisting her captors in her mind to a woman taking control of a castle’s household under the guise of being bastard-born, all while trying to hold onto her humanity and retain a measure of kindness when she’s exposed to more and more horrors in the upper class of society.
Also, I personally think she has one of the best supporting casts in the story, all of the characters in her story pertaining to and enriching her narrative going from Cersei, Loras, Jeyne, Margaery, Olenna, Tyrion, Dontos, Littlefinger, Lysa, Myranda, Mya and Sandor, all of them challenging, adding, compounding upon her worldview, complicating her ideals and turning into her a fascinating person who’s increasingly seeing the strings of political theater and is going to start utilizing them with purpose.
Lastly, her want for there to be true knights? Breaks my heart because I constantly struggle with my ideals like that too. There are good values worth standing up for, but not everyone’s going to live up to them… but that doesn’t make the effort itself worthless. If the world fails us, then we should endeavor to live up to those ideals ourselves. There are monsters, abusers and indifferent people in the world, but the best we can do is hope to outlive them, hope to do it while being better than them.
In short, I will always be here for “He was no true knight.” and “If I am ever a queen, I’ll make them love me.”
Favorite non-POV character: Stannis Baratheon. Let’s see, grumpy, pragmatic, bitter, deadpan, grim, strict, yet fair, meritocratic-leaning with an inferiority complex towards his older brother who he thinks outdoes him everywhere that matters? GEEZ, STANNIS, I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE PRETTY MUCH ME IN ASOIAF.
But yeah, I love Stannis’ characterization so much. It’s such a multi-faceted portrait ranging from his strength (meritocratic ideology, drive towards justice, willingness to commit to good kingship) to his weaknesses (pettiness, willingness to commit to past grudges, bitterness and tactless manner of speech) and it’s such a rush to see him when his weaknesses outweigh his strengths in A Clash of Kings to later have the pendulum turned around nearing the end of A Storm of Swords.
And his character archetype is actually what I’d consider some of GRRM’s most subversive genre work. On the surface, he looks the Evil Overlord, complete with living at a grim island full of gargoyles, housing pirates, sellswords and a mysterious sorceress. He looks like the Evil Uncle because he’s rebelling against his “nephew’s rightful crown.” But the truth is far more complex, Stannis himself actually being the Cape, the man who wants to right the wrongs of Westeros, who wants to deal justice against the Lannister’s incestuous reign, who only came upon Dragonstone because he was doing his duty to his older brother.
His chapters’ themes… oh boy, they hit at me. Justice, duty, wounded pride, bitterness, past grudges, mockery from empathy, choosing from lawful or good, meritocracy, good kingship, the choice between valuing the individual or the many and complicated relationships with religion and gods… Stannis just hurts to read.
It is legitimately fist-pumping to read his character arc because it’s a rush. From a bitter, resentful, petty lord sitting at a dreary rock to a man who’s lost one of his central battles as claimant and who is torn between careening further into the abyss or committing to rising above the loss to a savior protecting the realm in truth rather than in title to a truly fascinating and worthy king who’s learning from the past, willing to take advice from all wells of knowledge and take charge to fight against the “only enemy that matters.”
And I tend to love Stannis’ supporting cast. I know we all love Davos, but I even love Melisandre because she brings an interesting facet to the philosophical/theological dialogue between the Dragonstone trio. Davos and Melisandre are constantly in conflict, externalizing the duality raging in Stannis’ heart and how he wants to conduct himself as king. And Stannis’ court also helps, being a bunch of (mostly) unlikeable, fanatic, squabbling lords and knights… who nevertheless help protect the Wall, ordered by their king, from the Free Folk attacking it.
There’s a lot of Stannis I keep coming back to, to be honest. It’s just inspiring that, amid all the destruction, death, rot and chaos of Westeros… there’s one man who’ll stand steadfast and fight for Westeros’ best interests because he’s the man you want against the Others when they come to bring the night that never ends. My One True King.
In short, I’ll always be here for "Stannis! Stannis! STANNIS!“ and "Then we will make new lords.”
She always had her journal and a pen latched in her hand as she walked in. My eyes always amazed on how someone is always at her beck and call, I mean look at her. The way her hair curls down her back, her hips sway as she avoids bumping into people in the hall, everything about her was so pure. The mix of innocence and sweetness excited me, like she has never heard of a bad word or even said one. She walked to her normal spot in Pius, seat just right to get the amount of sun and warmth, and shadow needed. I liked her from the moment I laid eyes on her. Her skirt rose more just because the way her hips were, and I am not complaining.
The pen tapped her glossed lips as she thought on her new entry. I could smell her sweet Daisy perfume from across the room. She smiled at me when she saw me, like she knows exactly at this time I’m here, waiting for her. “Hi Calum.” She greeted in her soft voice setting the pen in-between the pages of her journal. “Hey, Violet.” I smiled back. “Out of all people, I never would’ve expected you to be this, fascinated in someone.” She giggled as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “I just like that you have such a desire to write, it is quite fascinating,” I winked causing a deep red to spread across her cheeks. She waved for me to come sit by her, and so I did.
“Since you’re so fascinated that I write, take a look.” She turned a few pages back, letting me read on whatever her mind pondered on.
I notice all your features. I notice how blue your eyes are, and when they become darker as you become frustrated. how your smile is bright and teeth are white. i notice the way your hands grab the pen you hold when you write and how concentrated you look when doing it. i notice everything it;s scary, and i hope you notice me
your mind is a storm. sometimes it’s dark and scary, the other times its light and beautiful. i wanna know what goes on inside there, what’s its like to think. you have never imagined how one word can mess me up. no matter if it’s an “insult,” or compliment. everything you say comes and stays in my mind and i can’t get rid of it. it burns in my brain and makes my head hurt. i never understand what you say if it’s true or just a joke. i just hope it’s out of care.
i cried over you again today. i cried over how much you hurt me. i cried over how much i wanna yell and scream at you. i cried over how much i want you to love me. i cried how i want you to give me answers on us. and it sucks because you talk to all these other girls yet I’m the one who you hurt the most because whatever you say I’m processing in so many ways and then you say I’m joking, i wanna yell because thats not what you made me feel 2 minutes ago…
She must of noticed on how I got caught up in this because she covered the rest of it with her hands. “That’s enough for today.” She said, her voice was full of sadness. “Violet, I never knew how deep you were.” I exhaled. She half smiled, “It’s a blessing and a curse.” I stood up, grabbing her hand. “C’mon I wanna take you some where I think you’ll like.” I laced my hand with hers, surprised she didn’t let go, but rather caress her fingers in mine. I led her to a spot behind the park that had a bench looking onto a lake. “I come here when I feel sad.” I let go of her hand, going to sit on the bench. She quickly followed me, sitting down clutching her journal with her. “It’s beautiful Calum,” She smiled up at me.
I wrapped my arm around her as she nuzzled into my chest. “You always seem to fascinate me Violet, rather it be writing or sitting in Pius working on homework.” I spoke her. “I don’t understand why Calum, I’m just an ordinary girl.” She giggled. “You don’t seem normal to me Violet,” I took her chin in-between my fingers. Her eyes glazed over mine, flickering to my lips back to my eyes, mine did the same. I found myself leaning in to kiss her plump lips, and she did the same. Our lips intertwined with each others, and I could taste the peach gloss she always sported. We pulled back after a moment, “Who hurt you?” I asked. She sighed, “It’s a long story, I’m not sure you’d want to hear it.”
I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “I have all the time.” She perked up a bit, “Well, my dad abandoned me when I was maybe 10. He left me for weeks with barely anything to eat or drink, so I mostly wandered the streets. I never met my mother, my dad told me she wanted nothing to do with me since I was born, and then my dad and I never grew found of each other. So, I live with my Aunt. She took me in after she saw what my father has been doing to me. I’ve always been scared to be loved or love anyone. Once I got to high school, I met this guy, Josh. I thought he was the one, and I liked him for so long that he eventually gave in and we dated. Once we got to graduation of Senior year, he told me the whole thing was a dare and that he would never love someone like me because we were too “different” and that really broke me. And those writings you read, were about him. It still hurts Calum.” Tears filled up her vision, and she looked down too scared to face me.
I wiped away the tears on her cheek, tilting her head up a bit, “No one should ever feel hurt like that, do you hear me? Violet, I’m so sorry.” She smiled. “It’s ok Calum, I’ve heard the pity and I don’t need anymore of it. Thank you for bringing me here, I needed someone like you.” She looked up at me. “This is why you fascinate me, I never knew.” I kissed her forehead. “It’s really fine. If you really want, we can go back to my place.” She offered. “You think I’m gonna let some pretty girl like you walk alone, you’re not getting rid of me.” I told her letting her stand. “You’re such a dork,” She smiled.
After watching four movies with Violet, I’ve learned a lot about her. Her music ranges from Blackbear to One Direction, her favorite color is white, her favorite book is Milk and Honey, and countless details that I’ve come to love. “I can’t thank you enough for actually spending time with me Calum, it means a lot.” She looked up at me. “You know I would love to do anything that involves you.” I smiled. Her room was more girly than I expected it to be. The walls were white, decorated with pictures of her and her friends. Her bed was white, and the duvet was grey with blue pillow accents. She had a full length mirror that had motivational quotes along the edges, along with her makeup vanity that held everything a girl could ever want. There was a white fuzzy rug that coated the wood floors. “Again, you fascinate me.” I said, pulling her into me. “Again, I don’t see why.” She giggled.
“Violet! Ven por favor!” Someone called from downstairs. “Oh, that’s my Tia. I’ll be right back.” She broke herself from my embrace. “Hola, Tia. Que tal tu día?” I heard her ask. “Ay, good. Quien esta arriba?” “Calum,” She replied. “Quien?” “Un momento.” I heard Violet walk up the stairs. “My Tia wants to see you.” She smiled. “I never knew you were Spanish.” I said, following her down the stairs. “There’s still a lot you have to learn about me Calum.” She winked. “Tia, esta es Calum.” Violet introduced me. “Hola, Calum!” Her Aunt greeted. “You can call me, Sarah.” I casually waved. “Preguntarle si quiere quedarse para la cena.” I find this fascinating. “Do you wanna stay for dinner?” Violet asked. “Sí gracias.” I said. Violet laughed at my basic Spanish skills.
We headed back up to her room. Violet sat on her clear chair with a white pillow that was set at her vanity as I sat across from her. “I never knew you were Spanish.” I said, again. “Yeah, my mom is from Spain, and my dad is from Chile, so I have some Spanish decent in me. I grew up speaking it, and my Tia goes back and forth speaking it, you’ll notice it.” She said. “So is Violet your real name?” I asked. She shook her head no, “It’s Francesca, but I didn’t like the idea of being called Fran, and Violet is what my Tia called me from when I was little because she didn’t think I looked like a Francesca.” She said. “Fascinating, again.” I said. She threw a pillow at me, “get a new word!” “Violeta, Calum cena está lista!” Sarah called. “Let’s go eat!” Violet got up and headed to the kitchen.
“Thanks for everything today Calum, I had a good time.” Violet broke the silence. “I’m never leaving you, I hope you know that.” I told her. I could feel her heart race when I said those words. “Is everything going to go back to normal tomorrow? Me sitting in Pius for hours and you being adored by everyone?” She asked. I sat up pulling her in between my legs, “Are you kidding me? Violet, the moment I saw you, I liked you. And why you fascinate me is because you’re so strong, you know what shit to get done, you’re everything a girl wants, and so much more to me.” I said. She smiled with small tears falling onto her cheeks, “I’ve never been told anything like that before.” I kissed her, making her feel wanted. Her dainty hands wrapped around my neck as I pulled her into my lap. My hands rested on the skin under her sweater. I felt Violets hands grip the fabric of my tee-shirt, my arms reach over to pull her hands away. I shake my head before speaking up, “No, don’t. Tonight is all about you.”
“Just tell me to stop if you want,” I assure her. She smiled, taking her sweater and pulling it over her head. Her breasts spilled out in her white lace bra. “God you’re beautiful.” I told her. “Have you ever been touched here?” I asked her sliding my hand between her legs running my fingers over her cotton panties. The touch was bold but I could tell she liked it by the way her eyes glazed over. She shook her head no. “I never knew how to ask.” My eyes feel to her bare neck that I could easily cover in purple marks. “Well that’s a shame.” I moved my hand back feeling the heat and the little wet spot forming. “I bet you’re sweet.” I whispered looking back up at her. “I guess you’ll have to find out.” She winked. Fucking hell this girl.
I began rubbing circles on her clit, “God I can feel your pussy getting wet.” “Oh my God Calum don’t say that.” She gasped covering my mouth. “That word is degrading.” She whispered. “Well from what I feel down here, it seems as though you like when I say pussy.” I added pressure to my fingers. She moaned at the contact. “What are you doing to me?” She moaned. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” I whispered. To me her body was like a goddess, her hips nice and curvy, her breasts perky and big, and her ass god I can’t get enough of her. I tapped my fingers on her juicy bottom lip, “Suck.” I ordered. Violet gladly took my fingers in her mouth, coating them. She slid her panties down her legs, her wetness glistened. My finger curled inside her. “Do you think I can add another finger?” I cooed taking her bottom lip between my teeth. “Please.” She whispered before pressing her mouth to mine almost immediately running her tongue along my bottom lips to ask for entrance. She moaned hotly in my mouth when I pushed a second finger inside her. It was a tight fit, but I made it work. “That feels so good.” She moaned with a shaky breath before I sucked on her bottom lip. I quickly discovered my obsession with her mouth. It was just so tasty and pretty to look at.
“Calum, what are you doing to me?” She moaned. “You’re just about to orgasm babe.” I told her, sucking purple and black marks on her neck. “Oh my god, it feels so good.” Her sweet moans filled my ears. “C’mon girl, you can do it. Cum all over my fingers.” I said. Her body shook as her orgasm took over her beautiful body. Violet’s breath was heavy as she pulled up my shirt. “I’ve always found your tattoos attractive.” She said, tracing the inked skin. Her nails raked down my arms making me groan. She began undoing my belt buckle and unzipping my pants. “You’re gonna have to help me because I’ve never had a cock in my mouth before.” I moaned at the way the words came out of her mouth. She dropped to her knees, “It’s so hard.” She whispered struggling to get the zipper down. After she finally got it down, her warm hand dipped into my boxers firmly gripping my cock. Pre-cum was smeared all over the head. Without me saying a single word she swirled her tongue around the head of my cock licking it off.
“Fuck.” I swore throwing my head back. Her tongue ran down my length taking as much of it as she could. “Teach me.” She said, running her lips to the head of my cock. “You’re doing pretty good without me.” I said. She smirked a little to herself, taking my cock in her mouth again. Her hand came up and began stroking immediately. “Look at me.” I instructed. Her eyes looked up at me. She sucked hard starting to bob her head up and down starting to get the gist of giving head. She hummed around me keeping her tongue on the under side. She continued to suck on the tip and stroke the rest. “Shit Violet.” My hands ran through her hair, guiding her up and down my cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum Violet.” I moaned. Her actions sped up, her hands working with what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. “Such a good girl.” I said. I grab her chin, making her face my eyes.
Her eyes were locked on mine and I pulled her on the bed. “Now what can I do?” She asked, almost oblivious to what just happened. “You know what else you can do? You can come up here and let me feel that beautiful pussy around my cock.” I said, my voice filled with lust. “Good, ‘cause I want you like crazy.” She smiled before kissing me. Violet laid back on her bed, ready. I towered over her, drinking in her body. “You ready baby?” I said, positioning myself in front of her entrance. “Always.” She said. Her hips grinded with mine. “God, Calum.” She moaned. One of her hands held onto the head board as the other held onto my bicep. “Fuck Violet, you feel amazing.” I said picking up my speed. “Shit, whatever you keep hitting, feels really good.” Her mind was going into a frenzy. Her moans sounded like music to my ears. None of her quiet self, it was much more vocal. “Calum, I’m gonna cum.” She moaned, her back arching slightly as I continued to hit her g-spot. Her nails raked down my back, filling up with euphoria.
“Come on pretty girl, cum for me again. Cum all around my cock,” My words edged her on. “Oh my god, oh my god!” She yelped. “Atta girl.” I moaned, feeling her walls clench around me. The pleasure was too raw. “Fuck,” I moaned pulling out of her. “I didn’t expect that.” She giggled. My hands massaged her breasts, her humming.
Haunting Me(NSFW) - Reader is a normal young adult living in New York, but little does she know that she’s a reincarnation of the long lost Bucky Barnes’ fiance from the 1940′s. What happens when she runs into Steve in 2012? Most importantly, what happens when she runs into The Winter Soldier?
Pairings: Bucky x POC Reader
Warnings: Fluff. Memories of past lives. Slight Angst. Violence. Mentions of smut in the past (super brief). A bit smutty.
A/N: Okay guys! I’m super sorry for the long update! Chap. 8 is finally here and it’s wild as heck hehe. >;) I hope y’all don’t kill me with the ending. muahaha!
Happy birthday @hutchhitched! We are pleased to post this story for you, submitted by the always wonderful @norbertsmom. (Be nicer than this guy when you get your cake, yeah?) ;)
Happy birthday! I hope you enjoy this little story.
Rated T for mention of traffic accident and mention of death.
Guard You From Harm
Katniss walked into the classroom and smiled at the only person outside of her immediate family who had that effect on her.
“Good morning, Peeta,” Katniss greeted as she plopped down in her chair and handed him a cup of hot chocolate. “How was your weekend?”
“Great,” he grumbled while struggling with his laptop. He absentmindedly slid a bakery bag with grease stains over to Katniss. He quickly looked up and her and said, “It’s always nice when I can get home to see my dad. How was your weekend?”
“Ugh, don’t ask,” Katniss answered then opened the bag and inhaled deeply. She gave Peeta a quick grin, even though he was already back with his nose in his computer, and reached inside the bag. She pulled out a cheesebun and popped it in her mouth. She loved it when he went home on the weekends. He always came back with her favorite.
Summary: [Y/N] is enjoying her peace and quiet at the laundromat.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
A/N: I was missing New York City a lot, so I decided to write about it. It’s a lot of fluff. Knowing me, I would have gone for pain and angst… but you can thank my sister for the fluff. She wanted Steve to have some happiness… and he sure does deserve that. Happy reading!
Masterlist | Also available on AO3 (see bio description for the link).
Chapter 1: The Laundromat
If she were really silent and listened attentively, [Y/N] could perceive the enrapturing echoes and reverberations of the City: The rustling of her jeans’ pocket filled with old candy wrappers and money when she searched through it, the jingling of coins while she counted them in her hand, the flickering of the malfunctioning white lights in the quiet laundromat as she found an empty washing machine, the erratic juddering of performing laundry machines. [Y/N] enjoyed the insubstantial noises that filled the silence when she was at the laundromat. She closed the door of her selected laundry machine and put in her coins. She tried to come here every week so she would not have a very heavy load. She read a new book each time to make the time pass by quicker, while she sat on a dryer across from her machine. Technically, she was not allowed to do that and there were chairs around, but there was usually no one to stop her. The quaking buzz allowed her to calm her mind as she flipped through the pages and almost reached the end of the story. When the dinging sound came she put her book away, and put her headphones on, cancelling out other sounds. Happy with her choice of music, she began to unload the machine. Her newly cleaned clothes smelled wonderfully fresh. It was a scent she could smell forever. She sighed contentedly while she put her clothes in a clean bag and softly sang along to the music in her ears.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” A man behind her said, but she did not hear him. He made another effort, tapping his finger on her shoulder and his voice a bit louder, “Excuse me, ma’am?”
Gajevy Week: Prompt: First Date
Memories of Shaved Ice
Prompt: First Date
Memories of Shaved Ice
Levy tries to convince Gajeel to take her out on a date.
Post Year Gap
Levy sighed, laying on the bed, her belly swollen with her
pregnancy as she was bored with her book. A rare moment, but it did happen. Her
eyes glanced to the man half dozing next to her, enjoying the silence.
She had been confined to bedrest as ordered by her husband.
She was seven months pregnant, for the last two months he
had watched her like a hawk. She rarely was able to go to the guild, at least
not without promise of Mira, Juvia, and Erza to be watching her if Gajeel
She loved the man and her friends, but this was ridiculous.
Though, she had to admit she was driving him a bit crazy as well. He was
paranoid she’d get hurt. And with the gasps of pain that would occasionally
come from the sharp kicks of their unborn child, he would panic and all but
rush her off to the doctor.
She did ponder the thought that she might be pregnant with
twins, but she assumed not. The doctors hadn’t noticed anything, said that
sometimes women just got big during their pregnancy.
“You know. I don’t remember what our official first date was.” She hummed. So, she was lying. She knew
she was. Their first date was back during the Grand Magic Games. Their first
date, that had been a first date truly alone, had been to a small fair that had
been in Balsam Village back when they were on a small vacation from the Magic
“Wha…?” He turned his head, blinking his eyes to wake up.
“Seriously? That’s what’s on yer mind?”
“Mhm.” She hummed, turning a page. Despite her eyes being on
the book, she wasn’t reading a single word. She felt so cooped up, wanting to
go on a walk. Maybe grab some lunch… or something sweet. “I was wondering if
that trip to the waterpark was our first date or the weekend in Balsam Village
was.” Thinking of that trip made her think of their little adventure to the
shaved ice stand…
Shaved ice sounded delicious.
Gajeel was making noises, something akin to confusion and
annoyance tossed into one. He wasn’t tired as he was bored, but fuck this woman
would drive him into an early grave.
yooo glad to hear you're feelin' better and ready to accept requests again ^-^ So could I request how Sombra, Reaper, and Widowmaker would do if a young child was brought into Talon, either because they have exceptional combat or tech related skills Talon wants to exploit or they're being held there as a long term hostage to ensure someone's cooperation? Like how would they interact with the kid, if at all? (sorry if the asks a bit long ;-;)
An agent picks the child up from
kindergarten, but it’s Widowmaker who sits in the back of the car,
a small handgun cradled in her hands that the girl eyes both
frightened and awed.
“Do you work for my mama?” she asks
as she fastens her seatbelt as if she’s being picked up by random
men in black suits every day. The words stranger danger evidently
mean nothing to her.
“It is more accurate to say that your
mother works for us.” Widowmaker says. At least now she will, she
adds silently. The agent lets the autopilot drive and while the car
pulls out of the school’s parking lot together with half a dozen of
other parents with their children, he turns around and waves his
“Lets take a photo so your mommy
won’t worry, alright?” he suggests and whatever else the child
may be, camera shy she is not. She makes faces at the camera, makes
the agent snap picture after picture, usually with Widowmaker
somewhere in the background although at least once she sits on her
lap and pretends to brush her hair.
“You could braid it,” the girl says
and Widowmaker, whose patience for people who are not targets or her
handlers runs low at the best of times, yanks her hair out of the
“I don’t want to braid it.” she
says and hopes that is the last of it.
(Rated a meh-T for mention of drug use. Beta’d by madder_badder. This is just a short one that doesn’t make a lot of sense and is really all over the place. I invoke stream-of-consciousness and artistic license, though.)
Assignment from M. in Eastern
Europe, en route. Will phone when I get there. SH
He typed out the text, stared at it.
It was for the one person he hadn’t said goodbye to. Between his
week in prison and the armed guards that oversaw his packing for the
trip, he’d had no time to go and see her. He was sure Mary must have
at least told her where he’d been, what had happened.
Hey everybody! I know I haven’t posted in quite some time, but I have a favor to ask! My sister-in-law is a really talented photographer, and is soon traveling across the U.S, and would love to get her name out there, as she wants to do shoots while on her travels. I figured that I would share the information with my Tumblr family. Well, those in the US.
She specializes in Newborn, maternity, couples, and boudoir photography, and actually was the photographer for my own engagement and wedding shoot!
She’s based in Jacksonville, North Carolina and is planning on going around the country in Fall 2017 to Spring 2018, and will be doing shoots in that time frame on her journey’s!
If you guys wouldn’t mind at least checking out her Instagram page, maybe following it to see what kind of shoots she does, and if you or anybody you know are thinking of any photography work you’d like done, I suggest looking her up! I’d super appreciate it!
Andrew does not reply. He looks up slowly from where he has been studying the floor. He turns to his left, observing Neil on the chair beside him. Andrew takes him in: the way Neil is biting his lip, the way his knee is bouncing uncontrollably, the way his arms are crossed so tightly over his chest that Andrew is surprised air can make it into his lungs. Maybe it can’t.
“I mean—are you sure? Are we sure? Is this really a good idea? I mean, what if—”
Neil abruptly cuts off when Andrew’s left hand clamps down on his knee, bringing its movement to a halt. His wrist protests the slightest bit, a reminder of why he will never again guard a goal. He brushes the thought away, more important matters at hand. They’ve been having the same conversation for months. Andrew has been asking himself these questions for even longer. The more final this became, the more he could feel the dregs of fear crawling their way up the back of his throat. But that doesn’t matter. He will push them aside; he will jump. He knows what his answer is.
Andrew looks back to Neil’s face, and he can practically see the gears turning as thinks himself into a hole. Nothing new there.
Andrew removes his hand from Neil’s knee in favor of wrapping it around the back of his neck.
“Look at me,” he says, leaving no room for argument.
Neil does, blue meeting gold, flight meeting fight.
“We’ve been over this and over this. We have looked at it from every possible angle. We agreed on this, that this is what we both want. You agreed to get over your daddy issues, and I agreed to actively ignore every parenting example I’ve ever had. Right?”
Neil nods his head once with a little too much force to be convincing. “Right.”
“Okay,” Andrew says, not really sure if it was loud enough for Neil to hear. He tightens his hand on Neil’s neck, pulling him closer until their foreheads are touching. Neil’s hand has made it up to hang off of his bicep, gripping like it’s the only thing keeping him on the ground. Andrew fights to keep his voice as even as possible. “Neil. You have to tell me that you’re in this all the way. This is permanent. Once we sign those papers, she is ours. Forever. I refuse to send her away. I will not be like them,” he says, fiercely. “Do you want this?”
“I do, I’m just—,” Neil stops. Lets out a shuddering breath and seems to be attempting to pull himself together. “I know I want this. I know we want this, but God there is so much that could go wrong. What if,” he lets out a short laugh, a sound somewhere between amused and self-deprecating, “what if she doesn’t even like us?”
“Us?” Andrew says with faux annoyance. “Speak for yourself. Kids love me.”
planning on getting a senior citizen’s discount?”
she wanted to give us plenty of time afterward to get ‘piss drunk.’ Her words.”
The phrase ‘piss drunk’ sounded wrong coming out of Mary’s sweet, teacher
cringed. She was not so young as she used to be, and being ‘piss drunk’ did not
entice her as it once did.
right. Come to my place at 4. We’ll ride together.”
got to go. Got to pick up the small children from lunch. See you, Claire!”
up the phone with a sigh. She was not particularly thrilled with the evening’s
planned activities. But, she felt it her duty as friend of the bride and cousin
of the groom to make an appearance at all wedding events, including this
bachelorette party. Even if her wallet didn’t agree.
out into the empty lecture hall. Vacant seats echoing the beating of her heart.
Was she so lonely that this sight should sadden her?
It was more
than that, she knew. Visions of red curls filled her mind, paint stained hands
dancing across a page, dancing across her body…
get to see him today. Her artist.
stranger become so integral to her happiness?
She was afraid
of the answer.
Her eyes. They were whiskey. Amber. Resin. Her hair the bark, her eyes the
liquid amber that flowed out of it.
his own a liquid amber, contemplating colors. Brown and yellow definitely.
Maybe some orange? Not too much, though…
wrong, Jamie?” He was surprised to see that his brother had crept up behind
him. “Yer staring at that glass like its telling ye secrets.”
couldn’t tell him the truth: that he was fantasizing about some woman in the
park. He would never live that one down.
tired. I woke up early. To paint, ye ken? The lighting— “
Willie was as thrilled about the mechanics of painting as Jamie was about the
hardware of a computer. “I invited a couple lads. Just Rupert, and Angus, and
Ian, if Jenny’ll let him.” The mention of their sister brought a smile to Jamie’s
face. They were thick as thieves growing up, and he missed her greatly. But she
and her husband Ian had been expanding their family rapidly, which kept her
busy. He usually only saw her once a week, for Sunday dinner.
will sure bring the good times.” Jamie glanced around the pub, The Usual Place.
It was the Fraser men’s favorite, and was unusually quiet fir a Friday night,
save for a few straggling drunks and a small group of women tucked in a dark
should be here anytime. I told them 8:30…” Willie craned his neck, scanning the
large room for their friends.
fash. When Rupert and Angus show up, we’ll ken it.”
Claire pulled at the hem of her dress, trying to stretch it.
It was an older dress, worn during the wild days of cheap liquor and strangers’
lips. Since then, her hips had rounded considerably, and it felt like her arse
was showing with each step.
we going, exactly?” Claire wondered to the bride-to-be. Marsali flipped her
corn-silk hair, and turned around.
called The Usual Place. It’s nothing special, just a regular pub. But the
drinks are cheap, so we can get in the right state o’ mind for the rest of the
night!” She twirled, her silver dress sparkling under the florescent street
hope we get there soon! My heels keep getting stuck in the grates…” Geillis
bellowed from behind, waddling as if she were in quicksand. “I dinna ken why we
couldna get a cab…”
here!” Marsali led her ladies-Claire, Joan, Mary, Geillis, and Louise-into the
Jamie heard them before he saw them. Always one to make an
entrance, Rupert flung open the doors with a mighty bellow.
He sauntered to them with the cockiness of a man that knew he was the biggest
in the room. Which he probably was. Behind him trailed two smaller men- Ian and
Angus. “We hear ye’ve pleased another man today.”
everything that comes out of yer mouth sound filthy?” Jamie asked as Rupert
clapped a paw on his shoulder
Ye’ve got a filthy mind, probably.” He winked.
we be celebrating tonight?” Angus asked, scratching his scraggly beard with a
look of false contemplation. “Shots?”
spoke up. “Ye’ll ken what happened last time…”
out fault ye canna hold yer drink,” Rupert teased.
company is celebration enough, lads,” Willie appeased, placing a hand on both
yerself,” Jamie muttered and waved the bartender over. He tried not to see her
eyes in the bottom of his glass.
The pub grew steadily louder, and Claire found it more and
more difficult to concentrate of her friends’ conversation. A mixture of the
noise and alcohol.
are we going to see ze dancers?” Louise’s question caught Claire off guard.
plan on getting marrit once. I’m doing my bachelorette party right.” She
giggled, disarmingly sweet compared to the plans she had. “We should leave
soon, though. So we can get a good seat.” The twinkle in her eye made Claire
shake her head in mock disgust.
Claire’s surprise, she was having fun. Not what she would have normally done on
a Friday, she was glad to be out with these women. Her friends.
filed out, Claire saw a flash of red by the bar. A trick of the light,
Jamie knew he was drunk. Was he hallucinating? He saw his
stranger, wild hair trailing behind her as she walked out of the door. Perhaps
he should call it a night.
(A/N: The beginning is set before Miroku and Sango join the gang.)
Kagome always had strange books on her. Inuyasha was intrigued by her insistence to read and carry the things, but annoyed at the extra weight that slowed her down.
He was also fascinated by them, and loved it when she read them out loud to herself, but he would never admit that.
She was after all the nuisance that ruined the jewel and made it so he had to go on this quest in the first place.
She often read while they stopped for lunch; ‘cramming’ as she called it.
She mostly read by firelight before her little body could stand to stay up no more. That was when she spoke out the words on the pages, because her eyes and mind were too tired to just quietly take them in.
Her books were full of symbols and letters he had never seen before. It made him wonder just how much she knew. The fact she studied those books was a sign that she was far smarter than he had initially thought.
He realized very quickly while traveling with her that she was most interested in people and the stories about them in her books. She called it ‘history that was unfolding before her eyes’, he called it ‘getting involved in things that she shouldn’t be sticking her nose into.’
He also called it ‘annoying as hell.’
But still, she carried those books with her. She fought him tooth and nail every time he went to use the book pages as kindle – it was some good kindle– but would relent and let him have a page or two of her choosing.
Shippou was at least open about his interest in the books. Kagome, the girl he slept snuggled to every night, was a deity of sorts in Shippou’s eyes. He wholesomely loved her, and if the amount of treats were any indication, she loved him right back.
She also brought Inuyasha all his favorite ‘ninja food’, but it would be while before Inuyasha wondered if she did that out of love of him as well.
It had been a particularly rough day. The weather had been far from forgiving, and harsher than normal for early spring. The wind had been cold and bit harshly at her delicate skin. She had mild sunburns topped with wind chaffing on her cheeks, Inuyasha noted as they settled down for the night. Kagome had not once complained, however, making him worry that there was a bigger injury she wasn’t vocalizing to him.
They were only another day - maybe two at this rate- from Kaede’s village. Inuyasha would mention to the old woman to check Kagome for injury, and leave it there. Kaede simply would not allow Kagome to go into the well without needed medical attention.
It never dawned on him that he was concerned for her because he cared, and not so much because she hadn’t complained.
The fire he had built his new-found pack was burning bright and wonderfully warm. Inuyasha checked to see if his two companions were bundled up for the night in the cocoon she carried. When he looked down, he saw them swaddled up, sitting upright, with a book in Kagome’s hands that he hadn’t seen her study before.
“Remember what I told you at lunch, Shippou?” Inuyasha racked his brain. He didn’t remember much conversation at lunch.
“That the stars shine the brightest on cold nights?” Inuyasha couldn’t recall that bit of information being shared, and made a note to listen more carefully to their talks, even if it was menial things being discussed.
“Yes,” she shifted the book so that it was lit by the fire a little bit more, “and this is the book I was telling you about. Why don’t we try to see what stars are above us tonight?”
Shippou snuggled closer into her body. “How do we tell?”
“We look in the sky and down in the book. This book as all the different stars that might be in the sky, so we just have to look and see which ones are above us tonight. We can even read the stories people tell about them.” Kagome began to turn pages. “We know we are in early spring, so we start there in the book.”
Inuyasha peered down from his perch. He wasn’t settled for the night; he was engaged in the book too. He listened to Kagome, and tried to take in everything she was teaching Shippou.
He listened to the stories intently, fascinated by the tales of warriors and great beasts, of star-crossed lovers and mighty rulers. He was a silent participant to the bonding time between girl and child, unintentionally forming a deeper bond with both of them in his heart.
The very next night, Kagome and Shippou sought hard to see every little difference between the stars of then and the stars of the night before. Inuyasha did the same, but didn’t speak aloud what his observations.
Once they were at Kaede’s village, Kagome left the book of stars there while she went home. Shippou brought it to Inuyasha as the night fell, and opened the pages riddled with words and pictures that barely made sense to either of them.
And yet, both of them look for the different stars, and tried to read the stories that went with them. They searched for the same stars as before, and were able to read those stories. It was a silent partnership that neither of them spoke of in daylight, but at night, they poured over the books side by side.
When Kagome came back, she taught them how to read the book.
This mysterious book of stars, that made little sense to anyone who didn’t have Kagome as a teacher, went on the travels with them. Miroku was better at reading it than Inuyasha had expected, and Sango voiced the questions he had but wouldn’t say. They grew closer together under the stars above them and with the stars in the book.
On clear nights, they all would study the stars. Kagome once mentioned that the stars were the same in her time, so if they looked up to them, they could know that she was too if she were home.
Eventually the book would find a permanent home in Kaede’s hut as the travels became more exhausting and dangerous, and having less to carry was more important to Kagome.
Once Kagome was gone, Inuyasha and Shippou sought comfort in looking at the stars together, and finding quiet, unspoken peace in knowing Kagome had the same stars above her. They would, side by side like so many moons before, sit and page through Kagome’s book, and read the stories held in the pages.
The first night Kagome came back, Shippou pulled out the book and snuggled into her body, just like he had years before. Kagome shifted the book to be illuminated by the moonlight and together they began to find the stars that were above them.
This time, Inuyasha wasn’t a silent party, watching with a hidden desire to join in his heart.
This time, he was wrapped around Kagome, her in his lap, and Shippou in her’s, paging through the stars with them.
Summary: You are almost 3 months into a relationship with Jughead Jones. You are going through a tough time being too much in your head as the anniversary of “that night” comes closer. Jughead can sense something is wrong.
FYI this part is almost a full flashback of my current ongoing story.
Warnings: Features sexual content, as well as a rape flashback and parental abuse. Please don’t read if easily triggered.
You gave her your library card and you were off with your new stack of books. The Riverdale library was easily better than the one at the high school - even if you had to walk all the way to downtown to go to it. It was a historical building and a part of the original Mainstreet in Riverdale. You loved classic buildings and it being 9 months since you moved there, it was one of the few spots you actually liked. Not a lot of people were ever there and it felt like there was an enormous amount of words waiting to be read just by you.
You left down the steps of the building, and on a bench was girl, reading alone. You looked around and didn’t see anyone and presumed she must be waiting for someone. She couldn’t have been more than 10, and was reading The Hobbit. You decided to make sure she was waiting for someone.
“In a hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit”, the words had escaped your mouth. She looked up from her book and smiled to you.
“You’ve read this?”, the girl with pigtails asked.
“Many times. As well as the rest of the series. Have you read those yet?”. You smiled back.
“No, this is my first Tolkien”.
You smiled again.
“Are you waiting for someone?”, you looked around seeing no cars in sight.
“Yeah, my brother is coming but he said he might be a while…”. She looked around as well.
“Well I can sit with you if you want”, you began to walk to the free side of the bench.
“Alright but I’m not supposed to talk to strangers”.
“Good rule of thumb. Well, my name is Y/N, and I promise you will not leave this bench until your brother comes”. You sat down now reaching out a copy of Naked Lunch that you just got from the library not 2 minutes ago.
“Okay…who’s your favorite character?”. It looked like she was only about 6 chapters in the book.
“Well, in the trilogy, Sam but overall between the 4, Gandalf. He also easily has some of the best quotes throughout the series”. You gave a smile.
“I like him so far”. She went back to her book. And you began to start yours while pulling out a fresh bookmark.
A few moments went by, you both had turned a few pages in your books until you heard some footsteps.
“Jellybean”. You looked up confused on why someone was looking for candy until you saw the girls ears perk up.
“Hey, have you been here long?”, the beanie capped boy walked up to the girl and his blue eyes went to you with a curious face. You had seen him before in school, and from memory, you knew both him and you shared being bumped into the lockers from a number of the football team. Although, some of Riverdale’s Vixens would get you as well.
“No, not too long”, she looked back to you, “I had company”, she smiled.
You put your bookmark in your page, “Hope you don’t mind. I saw her sitting here and didn’t want her to wait alone. My name’s Y/N by the way”.
“Yeah. I’ve seen you around school”, you figured you were either noted as “the new girl” or “that girl from that party” in his head.
“Jughead Jones the Third”. He slightly waved. You had heard the name before, but were surprised he seemed pleased by saying it. You went with it anyway.
His face went back to his sister. “You hungry Jellybean?”
“Yeah”, Jellybean tugged on his shirt and said something she thought she said in a whisper, “Can she come with us?”
He looked to your eyes again and shrugged, “If she wants”.
You looked at your phone. You finished at the library quicker than expected. “Sure”. Not since Thanksgiving had you really made any friends, nor had anyone really been nice to you. So you decided to go.
You put your book back in your bag and got up with them to walk.
Jellybean was finally in the mood to talk now that her brother had approved. “So what’s your favorite book?!”
You gave a small laugh, “honestly it usually ends up being whatever book I just finished but I probably have a favorite for every genre”.
“Okay….mystery!”, she was quizzing you now.
“The Secret Adversary by Agatha Christie”, you gave with a gleam waiting for her to ask another. You saw Jughead’s face as he gave a look of acceptance.
“Fantasy!?!”, she was definately enthralled.
“Well that one’s harder. I mean I fell in love with Harry Potter and then the Lord of the Rings around your age”, you motioned to her book, “but as far as an individual novel that isn’t part of a series, The Princess Bride”. You paused a moment, “although apparently there’s a sequel to it that was never published….does that count?”
She giggled a bit, “yes”.
Jughead had finally decided to be a part of the conversation, “I’ve got a question. How do you walk to class while reading?”
You gave a small shy coy look, “Well once I knew my schedule and the quickest routes to each class, it wasn’t very hard. Usually people part away from me, thinking that I can’t see them”.
“You’re much more talkative than I had imagined…” you didn’t realize he had noticed you this much.
“Yeah well, I’m not one to just go up to a random person and talk. Jellybean here was a good exception”, Jellybean seemed to like the attention that was drawn to her.
A few more moments had passed and you had made it to Pop’s. Since moving to Riverdale, your mother had finally let you out of the house more. Knowing that this was a small town and mostly everyone knew each other some way. However you still had maybe been to Pop’s 10 times. You knew people liked to come there after football games, but since you were a person that dodged pep rallies itself, you hadn’t gone to any game all school year.
You were a little surprised this was a place to find Jughead, as the sign itself seemed like something out of a 50’s dinner for just preps.
You let them walk ahead of you and texted Y/B/N, “I’m picking up dinner. Ask mom what she wants. I’m at Pop’s. I’ll be home by 6“. It was only 4 now and you figured that was enough time for everything.
Your phone buzzed back pretty quick, “K. She just says a burger and fries. I want the same but with a chocolate shake”.
“Alright, let me know if you need anything else bud”.
Jellybean and Jughead were already making their order to Pop and you put your "to go” order in for an hour and half from then plus a fries and shake for here.
Jellybean had ran to the booth in the back treating it like a welcomed friend.
Jughead and Jellybean sat on one side and you the other. You set your messenger bag down beside you.
“You moved here at the beginning of the school year, right?” Jughead seemed curious about you.
“Yep, from Washington State. I had never actually been to the east coast until we moved here…”. You got a little shy. You didn’t like talking about your family too much besides your brother.
“Do you like Riverdale?”, Jellybean was once again excited.
“Eh, it’s alright. Can be a little eerie as it seems something of a time warp in instances. School’s okay, I like the classes”.
Jughead looked up again from placing his hands on the table, “and the people?”.
“I honestly don’t really know anyone still. Not enough to call them friends anyway…”. Your words started to escape you as you thought back to November.
Jellybean tugged on Jughead’s shirt, “I have to go to the bathroom!”.
Jughead gave a small laugh and nodded to her with eyes on the bathroom sign. “Don’t forget to wash your hands”. He said it as an almost parent. Jellybean got up, gave you a slight smile and proceeded to the bathroom hallway.
Jughead’s eyes were now back on you. “Thanks by the way. Making sure she was okay. Most people wouldn’t have done that. I know she can get a little rambunctious”.
You gave a slight smile. “No problem. She’s sweet and in some ways reminds me of what I was like at that age. Plus I think I’m just naturally a protective sister. I have a brother a few years older than her. Although, he isn’t as into reading”. You started rambling again, you had to get yourself to stop doing that.
“Excited for summer? Just two weeks left until we are out of the Riverdale High hell…”, he rolled his eyes a bit.
You gave a laugh, “Yeah I suppose. I’ll probably make a weekly trip to the library. Finally catch up on my list…”. You were trying to refrain from talking too much but Jughead seemed intrigued.
“Book list?”. He gave a slight smile.
“Yeah, I have this list of 200 books I want to read by a certain time, and summer is usually when I make a dent in it”.
Jellybean made her way back to the booth, walking with an almost skip in her step. “You guys talking about me?”.
You gave a small vibrato to your voice, “Well of course! You’re only the most interesting person in this town!”. You gave a big smile.
She gave a laugh in equal largess with a giggle at the end of it. She sat next to Jughead while your food was placed down beside you.
Time started to pass more, with Jellybean asking about other genre’s of books, as well as music and movies with Jughead giving an interjection every once in a while.
Pop came over with some bags. “Here’s your to go order”. You thanked him and got your wallet out for your own amount to give as a tip for later.
“You have to go!?”. Jellybean seemed slightly sad.
“Yeah, some of this is for my brother”, your eyes drew to the bags. You didn’t really want to go home but knew you had obligations.
You gave a slight thought and decided to reach in your messenger bag. The sound of heavy disheveled books made a noise.
Jughead had sat up slightly from the booth, “How many books do you even have in there?”
“6. 3 I just got from the library, then a book of poetry, my non-fiction for the month and my “happy book”, in case something I’m reading gets too depressing”. You reached in and grabbed the happy one and gave it to Jellybean. It was your copy of Princess Bride. Jellybean’s eyes widened.
“Here, you can borrow it and then let me know what you think”.
“You sure?”, she got excited while reading the back of the book for a description.
“Of course”. You began to get up and Jughead’s eyes followed you again.
“I’ll see you around”.
“Sure Juggs…and Jellybean”, you gave a slight nod while hoping you had made an actual friend beyond Jellybean.
Slowly waking up, you could feel his hand slightly rubbing your arm. He was looking in your eyes.
“Morning beautiful. Sleep better?”
“Of course. It was just you on my mind”, you gave a smile before giving him a kiss.
Rfa and a K-hip hop/pop idol mc? (With a style like Cl/2ne1)
Hi! Sorry about the delay, I’ve been in hospital but I’m back now and will work through my inbox as regularly as possible!
I tried my best, I hope this is ok! Thanks for the request!
-Would think your style was super cool
-Probably would be a bit worried about you having videos where you’re so ~alluring~ and wearing those clothes
-Would totally listen if you told him that it wasn’t his choice and would respect you!
-Would absolutely love coming to see you perform as much as he can!
-Definitely sings along with you and wishes he could be as badass as you!
-Throws on his leather jacket and does a selfie photo shoot with you by/on his bike for the #aesthetic
-Probably had some concerns about both of your reputations if it was known you were together, a tough type like your fans knew you as tied up with a soft sweetheart that his fans knew him as…. but if you wanted to be public he’d be more than happy and proud to do that!
-He’s in absolute awe
-Honestly he can’t believe it
-He tells his LOLOL guild members on the headset but they don’t believe him
-He is worried he isn’t cool enough
-He’s so blown away by how tough and independent you are and how confident you are!
-Still wants to protect you!
-I can’t even express how impressed he is constantly!!
-Would be worried about you and your reputation and how your future would pan out
-Thinks you’re so so cool though??? The coolest?
-She wishes she could be that outspoken and express herself as much as you do
-Listens to your songs when she runs out to grab lunch, but always pretends to Jumin if he ever asks that it was classical music
-Gushes to Zen about you all the time and gets really excited to have two musical people in her life (and when Zen was round and was singing along to your songs she lost her mind)
-Runs your fan page (and it’s very well run!)
-Begs you to write a song with Jumin in mind just for her to have a secret giggle about.
-I honestly don’t know if he could ever really like it
-I’m really sorry??
-I don’t see that he’d ever get on board with it or understand
-Still he wouldn’t stop you of course!
Would get a LOT of media attention for the two of you, could help you with any money aspect
-I think he’d send someone to everyone of your shows to make sure you were safe etc!
-He loves it
-He is constantly begging you to freestyle, and let him be in a video
-He loves strutting around in your most extravagant outfits singing along with you!
-Keeps an eye out for how your spoken about online and anyone being rude will face some…. technical difficulties.
-Thinks you’re amazing and honestly feels quite comforted seeing how proudly independent you are!