I Write Stuff! Feel Free To Request!

I write for: Riverdale, Heathers, Dear Evan Hansen, Harry Potter and more. Mostly 'x reader' but I'll consider anything! ~ Requests are open ~

[kiera-writes]

Sweet Pea x OC - My Valentine

{A/N} Hey so.. I'm not dead. I've just had a very long hiatus because life has been HELLA stressful. But I'm back and still taking requests.

This one was requested by @DarwinxMarshalllee on Wattpad and it's THEIR OC NOT MINE. I own nothing in this fic but the writing! I hope you like it!!!

Warnings?: Some bad language (its Sweet Pea - what do you expect!) and bad behaviour from Reggie (aka Catcalling).

Type: Flirty fluff

Enjoy...

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"Evening, Shorty!" a voice calls from across the Whyte Wyrm. It doesn't take more than a second to work out which one of my dearest friends spoke as I head towards them. My eyes scan across each person individually. First to my sister, Toni, who's sat behind the bar absentmindedly cleaning glasses, along to Fangs and Jughead who both look up to smile at me before I finally lock eyes with the culprit. Goofy smirk slapped on his face, messy hair obstructing his eyes and freakishly long legs outstretched. I find myself lost for words and, unable to provide a witty response, I shoot back a simple "Giant" and hop up onto the spare barstool next to him. 

Having a crush on a guy like Sweet Pea is perhaps the most infuriating thing to live with. He's a massive flirt and it takes him all of 5 minutes to work out exactly how to push your buttons. Evidently mine weren't hard to find either. I glance down at the bite marks permanently imprinted in my hand and firmly decide that I'd take the snake over this any day.

A hand grips the blue tinted bun on the top of my head, ruffling it around and pulling me out of my trance.

"Everything okay, Valentine?" My sister grins at me, fully aware of both why I was quiet and how much I hate that name. It's days like this that I wonder why I told her of my feelings. Or why I tell her anything at all, really.

If I'm honest, I reckon everybody could see how much I liked Sweet Pea. Something about him is just so impossibly endearing, hot temper, cocky attitude and all. But my inability to disguise my crush has lead to almost unbearable teasing from the rest of my friends...

"So, Pea," Fangs began, a mischievous grin on his face, "have you noticed how every single one of us is dating someone... besides you and Val?" Once the original wave of anger passed over me and I had kicked him not so subtly under the table, I realised that he was right. Toni and Cheryl, Jug and Betty, Fangs and Kevin and even Archie and Veronica back at school. We were the only two left.

"Damn, that's sad" I joked, turning away from the bar in an attempt to both diffuse the conversation and get away. Of course, neither of these tactics worked as Pea let out a strange laugh and turned to me.

"Well, dearest Valentine, I bet you'll find someone soon" he declared in his usual sarcastic tone. But this time there was a gleam in his eye that I couldn't understand. Before I could question him, he hopped off his stool, winked at me and left the Wyrm like nothing had ever happened. I turned to the others for any help as to what just happened but was offered nothing but suggestive looks and wiggling eyebrows. I concluded that my friends are actual children before heading home myself, Toni behind me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks later and Valentine's Day rolled around. A day that I, thanks to my name, despised with a passion. Riverdale High, in all its sickening glory, decided to go all out. The corridors were littered with obnoxious paper hearts and red and pink bunting. Some of the students even dressed for it, wearing fancy dresses and heels and clutching unusually large bouquets and teddy bears. I glanced down at my own attire (black ripped jeans, a red crop top and my serpent jacket) and instantly stuck out like a sore thumb. I quicken my pace in hopes of finding another serpent to cling to since Toni had left early that morning but instead, I found the attention of Reggie Mantle.

"Eyyyy, what've we got here then?" I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I attempt to push past the crowd that had gathered around the football player and I. "Where you going, sweetheart? With a body like that, you've got to expect a little attention. And the day of love's got me in the mood.." He teased, walking towards me. I could feel the rage building up inside me as I prepared myself to punch him in his stupid face. I'm not afraid to add to my collection of bruises and it's time Mantle knew it. I ball up my fists but before I could swing, I hear a voice from amongst the sea of people.

"Talk to her like that again and I'll break your fucking neck! How about that?" I look up to face my saviour and instantly feel a blush creep up my cheeks. Standing in front of me was Sweet Pea, his face angrier than I have ever seen it.

"Or what, snake? You know what'll happen if Weatherbee catches you, don't you?" Reggie snaps back. He was right too. After the last run in with the Bulldogs, the principal had threatened the entire gang with expulsion and, with Southside High under Hiram's control, we would have nowhere to go. With a sigh, I tug on Pea's sleeve in hopes that he'd let it go. The tall boy looked down at me and something in his expression shifted. With one last glare at Reggie, he grabbed my hand in his and shoved violently through the other students and didn't stop until we reached the parking lot where his bike was parked.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his usually confident voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper.

"Yeah, Pea. Yeah, I'm fine. But um... are you?" It was weird to see him so quiet and fidgety. Gathering my courage, I reached out and placed my hand on top of his and rubbed small circles in hopes of calming him. A few minutes of silence passed as we remained in that position before, eventually, he spoke up.

"Val, can I ask you something?" He sounded like a small child, helpless and scared. I gave him my best reassuring smile and nodded for him to continue. "Everyone seems to say that when you... y'know, like someone... you should always tell them. What do you think?" This took me aback for a while. Could he be talking about me? My heart was racing as I tried my best to answer coherently and mask my excitement.

"I would say that... no matter how scary it is... it would be better to tell the person than live in uncertainty." I reply, happy with my answer.

"In which case... ah fuck... Val, you're a really cool girl and I was wandering if... If you'd like to... y'know..." He looked mildly defeated for a second before shrugging to himself, straightening up and breathing deeply. His large hand snakes around my waist and pulls me close as his lips crash against mine. I move my own in sync with his, in hopes that he understands. I feel him grin into the kiss before we break apart for air.

"Wow.." I whisper breathlessly, my forehead resting on his.

"I'm sorry, Val. I'm no good with words" he confessed, making me chuckle. I close my eyes as I feel his fingers brush my hair out of the way to trace the serpent tattoo resting on my collarbone.

"So," he spoke, a familiar smirk plastered on his face once more, "does this make you... my Valentine?"

I groan and smack his chest playfully as he laughs at his own joke and feigns falling over.

"Jerk" I mutter, offering him a hand up.

"You love me really, though" He grinned as he pulled me into his chest for a hug.

"Yeah.." I mutter into him, "I guess I do."

[kiera-writes]

Connor x Reader - Missing (FLUFF) Part 2

The two of you sat together on his black bed, fingers intertwined. "Where have you been?" You questioned, your voice barely a whisper. A hot tear pooled in your (e/c) eyes, making your jaw tremble. "I'm so sorry, (y/n)... I just couldn't bear it. Everything was so bad and I just... I couldn't drag you into it again." His voice was soft but full to the brim with sorrow. It broke your heart to hear him speak, though you understood how he felt. The tears began streaming at full force down your face making it near impossible to hold back your sobs. Sadness ripped through your body as you erupted into a panic attack. Your breath hitched, words began falling out of your mouth in broken prose and your body shook vigorously. In shock, Connor quickly wrapped his arms around you as lightly as he could. He rubbed comforting circles on your bare arms, hushing you slightly. Through the tears, you managed to splutter out half formed sentence. You rushed through confessions of fear, how you thought you had lost him, how much you needed him. Wordlessly, Connor pulled you close to his chest. The tall boy ran his black polished fingers through your (h/c) locks before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. Finally, he locked eyes with you and forced you to listen to his words. "I never meant to scare you, babe. Now that I have you, I'm not going anywhere. I promise." A small smile tugged at your features as you flung your arms around his shoulders once more. Just being able to hold him felt like a blessing from the heavens. He was here, he was safe, he was yours. "I love you, (y/n)" "I love you too, Connor."

[kiera-writes]

Connor x Reader - Missing (FLUFF) Part 1

(AN: okay so tumblr has a new word limit so I'm having to split up quite short one shots into parts. I'm really sorry but it's the best I can do for now!)

Warnings: kinda sad, mention of suicide and drugs. Lotta Connor feels

Requested: by @hayleychr

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The infamous Connor Murphy. Known for having anger issues and evoking ridicule where he went. Little to nobody knew the reason for his cold exterior, nor did they care to find out. It was you, and you alone, that cared deeply enough to get to know him. Connor was depressed. There was no other way around it, in all honesty. He spent his days as high as a kite in attempts to escape his mind. Things had began looking up for the boy when you met, though. He became infatuated with you, giving him a reason for being. The two of you walked hand in hand down the corridors, skipped class to be together and had found a form of silent communication for the bad days. Unfortunately for you, Connor's mental health had been getting worse recently. Though you tried and tried, you could feel him retreating inside of himself each and every day. It began when he resisted your kind words. He would refuse to accept the idea that you loved him, would shrink away from your hugs and stopped replying to your texts. His dad became less tolerant of his attitude, Zoe's retaliations got stronger and his mother remained as oblivious as always. Life was rough for Connor Murphy. Least to say, you had become increasingly concerned about him until it happened. Your boyfriend of almost a year, who spoke to you every day without fail, had disappeared off the radar three days ago. No school, no texts, no unscheduled midnight escapades through your bedroom window. Nothing. Finally, you had had enough. School had ended on the fourth day without your boyfriend and, the moment the final bell rang, you were out like a shot. You ran to Connor's house, up the large porch stairs and rang the bell frantically. The large wooden door swung open and you were met with the face of a partially puzzled Cynthia Murphy. "Well hello dear. Can I help you?" "Hi, Mrs Murphy. Is Connor home?" "Yes, he's in his room. Go on up, sweetie." With permission granted, you ran past her and up the grand staircase to the familiar black door. With trembling hands, you reached up and rapped on the wood twice. "What do you want?" The harsh voice from inside yelled. "It's jus- just me." You called back, cursing yourself for the tremble in your voice. A beat of silence passed before the door before you creaked open. Stood in front of you, eyes bloodshot from drugs, long hair hanging wildly on his shoulders, was Connor Murphy. Without hesitation, you flung your arms around his midsection and held him tightly. His lanky frame stumbled beneath you. "Hey there. Everything okay?" He asked, his words vibrating from his chest.

[kiera-writes]

Okay, guys. I've been trying to get to people's requests and I know this is probably dumb but it won't let me post them??

Apparently I have hit the maximum word limit so if anyone could message me about how to get around this, I would greatly appreciate it.

Thank you! ✨

[kiera-writes]

Greeting and Salutations! Yes, I am fully aware that this is another message from me, but I just want to let you know that your writing is AMAZING! Keep up the good work because it's better than good! 💖💖💖

Omg thank you so so much! You're too sweet! 😊You've honestly made my day, thank you! 💕💕

[pragnificent]

Reblog if you are a fic writer who welcomes moodboards, playlists, remixes, art and any other type of gift based on your stories.

[damnslippyplanet-archived]

Hell yes, everyone is always welcome to do any of the things, you will have my undying love and appreciation for it. (Translations are also a-okay.)

[kronette]

There are people willing to do that for stories? Hell yes, please!!! I’ve only had one piece of artwork done to go with my story for a zine, and it was gorgeous!

[boothewriter-deactivated2018122]

Why Commenting On FanFiction Is Important

Alright kids, Boo here with a hopefully non-arrogant PSA.

I’m a writer of FanFiction because I like it and it’s my preferred genre (also a great way to receive feedback on writing that I can use on originals, bref). But like with most artistic work posted online, I have very little feedback.

When I was in a slightly writing rut, I cranked one shots left and right, nothing out of the ordinary. But instead of people commenting with their thoughts and good feedback, they just gave me requests.

I don’t think I could ever put into words what that felt like, but I’ll try (the irony of being a writer). It suddenly felt tiring, being a writer, and very quickly I stopped writing altogether. I only ever showed my friend what I wrote and left it at that. I haven’t published anything for a while after. It felt like people were treating me like a mule wanting me to do work for them, and I just wasn’t up for that. I lost my will to write, and then I began to think, “If I post something else other than what was requested, will people even read it?”

Then you get the infamous comments, “You haven’t forgotten about my request right??? Here’s another.”

That just adds anxiety and guilt. I’m purposely ignoring the comments to save my own uncreative ass, at least that’s what it feels like.

After weeks of convincing myself that my stories are worth sharing no matter how many people read them, I started writing and publishing again while working on some longer pieces. Slowly it got better.

Now this week, I remembered I joined another fanfiction platform, and realized I had never published anything on it. I had an idea, and so I started writing. It didn’t come out as I imagined it would, but I was so proud? Like, I started feeling happy about what I created again. Like genuine happiness that I haven’t felt in months since my last published work.

A few hours later, I get this comment:

I cranked out three 3k stories after reading this.

In four days.

It never happened before, and I don’t know how many times it will happen again. It was one comment, but it gave me so much fighting spirit that I think I’m on my way to regaining my initial writer mindset.

Fanfiction writers depend on feedback as a validation that their stories matter to people. If you’re wondering why your favourite author hasn’t updated/posted in a while, ask yourself, “Did I do everything that would convince them to continue writing this?”

[kurokoros]

You know, this is why content creators end up abandoning their works, right?

80 likes compared to 10 reblogs means that only 12% of people decided that what you did is worth showing other people.

If you like the thing, reblog it. You don’t even have to add tags, just spread it so that a) other people can see it, and b) the creator gets recognition for what they did.

Obviously, those numbers are never going to match, but the divide should not be that huge.

It’s even more important right now, because tumblr is garbage and they’ve stopped allowing anything with an outside link from appearing in tags. Writers/artists cannot tag things to their twitter/store/writing website. That can cause a significant drop in views, especially for newer creators.

Like… we aren’t asking for much. A few reblogs. Reviews/comments. No creator should have to beg for that much.

[kayjaykayme]

Support artists and writers and reblog!

[kiera-writes]

JD x Reader - Back Room (FLUFF)

Requested?: Yep, by @alpacaapprentice WC: 1436 Summary: crappy JD fluff. It really is terrible! Warnings: mention of slurs and bullying, gun mentioned, UNEDITED (AN: this is terrible. I am so so sorry for butchering your request. But I hope you enjoy!) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bored. If any words in the entire English language could be applied to you today, it would be bored. Your shift at the local 7/11 had ran as it usually did. The regulars would pop in before work to buy their regular things for the regular price and aside from that, nobody else would enter. Admittedly, the idea of a weekend job was originally thrilling to you. But after spending Saturday upon Saturday behind the same dusty countertop, charging the same middle aged faces for the same orders... least to say, it was tiring. 'Brrring!' The obnoxious trill of the bell above the door signalled you to the arrival of someone new. Casting your eyes up, you watch a as a boy of about your age swept across the linoleum isles. Clad in a long black trench coat and large black boots, he certainly wasn't someone to forget. After a solid 5 minutes, the kid swivelled on his heels and began to march up to you. Though you hated to accept it, he was attractive. His black hair fell messily over his eyes which shone with unreadable emotion and his angular features struck a tone of uniqueness to his face. A moment of silence passed as you caught yourself staring. A fiery blush crept up your neck as you stammered out "How can I help you?" A cocky smirk tugged at his features as he watched you shift uncomfortably where you stood. He leant foreword, propping an elbow on the counter. "Say, where does one find the slushee machine in the grand town of Ohio?" "It's, uh, in the back. Some kids were kicking it down so you have to ask for it now." You reply, sheepishly. Something about his expression made you so shy. "Well then." He begins, shifting to lean closer to you. "One cherry slushee, please." You turn quickly, desperate to avoid his gaze. Somehow, you could physically feel his eyes bore into you as you walked to the tattered 'Staff Only' door. "Okay, (y/n), chill. He's just a guy. You're not gonna see him again. Just breathe. Keep it cool." You repeat this to yourself quietly, cursing your awkwardness at the same time. You pull the stiff and rusty handle on the cherry valve and watch the thick red liquid pour in. Soon enough, your safe space was intruded by a stream of light. You whip your head around, loose (h/c) locks flying sporadically. There, leaning against the door frame, was the kid himself. "You're not supposed to be back here, you know?" You say, pointedly. Suddenly, a surge of confidence crashed over you like a tsunami. "I mean, I don't even know your name!" There was a jibe to it but the raven haired boy smiled devilishly. It was clear that you were flirting, even if you didn't know it yourself. "Well, I know yours. Does that count..." His eyes trail down your chest to the silver name tag clipped to your shirt. "(Y/n)?" He finishes. The satisfied smile on his face is partially infuriating but you stick it out. "This is a two player game, mr. How about your name for a slushee. On the house, of course." You're not totally sure of what you're saying, if you're honest. It was against store policy to give out free... anything! A large smile grew on the boy's face as his eyes flicked between yours and the cup in your hand. "The name's Jason Dean. Call me JD." He replies. 'Is it possible for a name to be cute?' You wonder to yourself. Your (e/c) orbs scanned his features curiously. As he reached forward to take the cup from your hands, you noticed his sleeve roll up. His pale arms were littered in angry red scars and deep purple bruises. A flash of concern passed over your face but you shook it off. It's his business, after all. His cold hand rested atop your own for what seemed to be hours before he took the drink. "So, (y/n), I thank you for the slushee. I'll see you around." With a wink of his eye, he struts away, leaving you blinking in shock. What the hell just happened? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Going to school at Westerberg High was tiresome. The idea of cliques quite possibly originated from the damn place! The first half of the day had ran about as smoothly as it always did. You went to class as always, got slightly heckled by the jocks as always and were now sitting on a corner table of the cafeteria as always. It wasn't that you didn't have any friends but more that you preferred to keep to yourself. Plenty of people would talk to you, should you initiate conversation. It just seemed like a waste of energy. You pulled out a notebook from your bag and set it on the table. You wouldn't consider yourself a writer, so to speak. But disappearing into fiction was much easier than facing the glaring white reality. You had become so engrossed that you failed to notice the trench coat-clad boy sit next to you. It wasn't until his large black boots slammed onto the table next to you that you even looked up. A small squeak escaped your lips at the loud sound but you kept your head down. The two of you sat in silence, avoiding eye contact. It wasn't as awkward as it sounded, despite how it may have looked. It was almost nice until... "Hey!" A harsh voice ripped through the air like a bullet. "Aw, look at the freak table! It's the loner and the f*g!" Being the only two people on the table, the immature insult hit its target spot on. A brawny hand reached over and slammed your notebook shut with force. "I thought you needed friends to sit in here?" The voice mocked above you. "Hey, Ram?" A second voice emerged over the white noise. "Doesn't this cafeteria have a 'no f*gs allowed' rule?" Before Tweedle Dee could respond, a familiar drawl trailed from beside you. A comforting tone of confidence in his voice. "They, uh, seem to have an open door policy for asshole though, don't they?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What happened next was a blur. Next thing you knew, you were sat on a field behind your house, dried blood surrounding your nose, school bag beside you. You'd been sent home due to 'injuries' but your real concern was JD. You barely knew the kid and he had a gun at school but... you liked him. Something about his confidence and air of mystery was so intriguing. "How does this keep happening, hm?" Your thoughts were interrupted. You turn, blinking in the sunlight, observing the tall figure that stood above you. As your eyes began to focus, you realised who it was. "JD!" You exclaim, jumping to your feet. "You alright.?" Trying to mask your excitement and appear cool was much harder than it looked. For a while, he doesn't reply. A lump forms in your throat but you push it down forcefully. Looking at him now, he looks smaller somehow. The freckles that dusted his cheeks glinted in the sun and the shine on his hair formed an obscure halo. He was beautiful. "You know, the extreme always seems to make an impression." He states, not looking at you. "Did it work.?" His question hangs in the air for a while, noticeably thickening it. Millions of answers race through your mind at intense speeds, making your brain spin. You had more options of answers than you did words in your vocabulary. Instead, you settled with "Yeah... Yeah it did." For a moment, he didn't even flinch. It was as though your words caught the wind and never reached his ears. But before you could repeat yourself, a crooked smile twisted onto his features. A laugh, quiet but certain, escaped his lips. It was a moment of pure joy that seemed unfamiliar on his normally unreadable face. But, without realising, you found yourself laughing too. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The two of you sat, propped against a tree, in a comforting silence. Somehow, his arm had slipped around your shoulder. You had no recollection of when this happened but, for some reason, you didn't mind. It was almost relaxing to feel him hold you. "Well, (y/n), I think I know you pretty well by now..." He trailed off, leaving you partially confused. Although you couldn't see his face, the smirk that was plastered to his face was cripplingly obvious. "Can I pour my own slushees now?"

[kiera-writes]

Twin!Archie Andrews and Reader - Ice (PLATONIC)

Summary: The reader is Archie Andrews twin. After a small heartbreak, she takes Cheryl's place in the ice. Requested?: Yes! By @floralchlxe Warnings: mention of suicide?? ((AN: I am SO sorry this took so long. I've just gotten back from holiday and life has been so hectic! This is so bad but I hope you like it anyway! Anyone else who requested: I promise I'll get to them soon. Maybe today or possibly tomorrow. I'll do it, I promise!)) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "A serpent?! No way. Not a chance." Stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed angrily, your twin brother Archie was shouting. You'd been talking to a boy on the south side for a long while now and today was supposed to be your first date. His name was Hunter (or so they called him, anyway) and he truly cared. Poetry fell gracefully from his mouth and his watery blue eyes told stories of love and horror. He was beautiful. "Arch, he's not like them! He's nice! It's a family thing, is all." You knew this was a losing battle. Archie, being the glorious 7.5 minutes older that he was, has always been over protective of you. And now, as you stood at the top of the stairs with curled hair and stained red lips, he wasn't going to give up. His large eyebrows knitted together in frustration as a single tear slipped from your lined black eyes. Turning abruptly on your heels, you flee to your bedroom. Moments of silence pass by before you finally feel safe to go. The window latch was rusted over and frost clung to the corners like an icy warning. You heave it open with a soft grunt before slipping out one leg, then another, then your whole body. Your boot-clad feet land softly in the fallen snow with a crunch. A pale moon watches overhead as you sit on a swing of the abandoned park. The cold wind nipped viciously at your ears but you shut it out, kicking off the floor. Your eyes close peacefully as you swing back and forth, finding something calming about the rhythm. Hours pass by and you remain the park's only resident. An odd feeling of anger bubbles in your stomach as you stand. A sigh escapes your lips as you check your phone. Nothing. No petty excuses or apologies. Maybe he just doesn't want you... For the second time in just a few hours, hot and salty tears began to flood down your face. Archie doesn't approve. Hunter doesn't love you. Dad's probably waiting to go nuts at you back home. Isn't life swell? You trudge home, tail between your legs, awaiting whatever punishment will greet you. Opening the door felt like stepping into hell itself. You got the full blast from both your father and your twin, got yourself grounded and your phone taken away. You sat on your bed, numb, as the sun came up. You knew what you had to do. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Being Archie's twin meant you got to hang around with the rest of the Scooby Gang. It was alright but you knew you were there for your brother more than for friends. You sat quietly at lunch as everyone around you talked happily. Across the table, the ginger boy cast you side glances. Confusion, anger and regret swam behind his eyes, each emotion fighting for dominance. "I don't feel too well, you know? I think I'm gonna take a walk." You say, your voice barely a whisper. This wasn't the first time you'd skip half of school for a 'walk'. Your usual spot at Sweetwater River was always empty and gave you the perfect atmosphere to just draw in peace. It calmed you a lot. Today, though, it would provide something different. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ On the ice, a surge of confidence crashed over you. Grabbing a rough stone, you began to hack violently at the cleared spot beneath your feet. Your white leather jacket blended in perfectly with the surroundings, easing your nerves. You could finally disappear. "(Y/n)!!! What are you doing?!" A familiar voice calls out, filled with panic. Your eyes scan the surrounding land before locking on to a small group of people. The concerned faces of Archie, Jughead, Veronica and Betty stare back at you. Flashing them a weak smile, the ice below your feet releases a mighty crack before caving in. The cold hits like a brick, taking away any breath you had left in your lungs. The strong current drags your limo body further under the ice, sealing you into your grave. The faint voices above you slowly fade into white noise as your eyes finally flutter shut. It all goes black. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Your (e/c) eyes snap open, met instantly with the unforgiving blaze of a fire. Around you, a comforting blanket with a homely scent. Beside you sits Veronica Lodge, her deep brown eyes full of concern. She smiles sadly at you before disappearing into the kitchen. Memories race through your mind, glimpses of thick ice, screams of friendly voices. Archie. The anger, the regret, the concern. You open your blue lips to call for him but no noise escapes. Your throat feels almost closed up with a cork, your body paralysed. Your wet (h/c) locks make you shiver, despite the warmth that surrounds you. It's too quiet. "Hey..." a voice trails from behind you. Though you cannot move your head properly to see, you know the voice belongs to your twin. "Look... I'm really sorry. I j just wanted to protect you, y'know? The serpents are dangerous and I care about you and..." he cuts himself off. A pair of strong arms reach around your frail figure, encasing you in a hug. He never apologises to you, no matter what. It felt weird to hear but it was nice, all the same. "I forgive you, Arch." You croak out, a small smile playing with your frozen features. His embrace tightens slightly, almost suffocating you. You stay silent, though, allowing the moment to carry on. Archie was your brother. He cares. He always has.

[kiera-writes]

Jughead Jones x Reader - Prom? (FLUFF)

((AN: hey, guys. I'm running out of inspiration so if anyone wants to request, please do!)) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "So guys..!" Veronica's voice trails from across the lunch table. "The dance is coming up! Who's going with who?" The sound was laced with evil. Veronica was the only one who knew about your crush on Jughead, though everyone else knew his for you. "Archiekins?" Your eyes turn to watch the red head scratch his neck nervously. He glanced over at Valerie who was sat with the other Pussycats. It was enough of a gesture for everyone to understand. A smug smile spread across V's face as she slung her arm around Betty. "Well, B and I will slay you two for sure!" She jibes. It went without question that her and Betty would go together and Kevin would tag along. "So, (y/n)! Who are you going with?" All eyes turn to you, causing you to miss Jughead tensing up next to you. "Um... Jake asked me once..." Jughead's knuckles turned white. "And Tom asked me too, though that was probably a bet." At this point, all the raven haired boy could see was red. He was furious. "Ooh, get you! Who did you say yes to?" Veronica asked, almost amused by how unsubtle the boy was being. "I didn't... I told them I wasn't going." Now this caught his attention. For the first time since the lunch bell rang, Jughead looked up from his laptop to stare at you. "So you're telling me that the hottest jocks in school asked you out and you said no? Whatever for.?" V smirked, knowing she was pushing you. "You waiting on the right guy?" Laughing, you flick your (h/c) locks over your shoulder and roll your eyes. "Whatever you say, V. What about Jug? He hasn't answered yet." You reply, redirecting the attention away from you. His long fingers had returned to the keys of his laptop, his eyes desperately trying to look anywhere but at you. "I know!" Veronica exclaimed, a devious smile toying with her features. "Why don't (y/n) and Jughead go together! As friends, of course." Though the last bit was more of a whisper. You cast your (e/c) eyes over to your crush, someone not seeing the deep red colour creeping up his pale neck. Jughead swallowed hard before snapping out "Yeah, right. I'm not going. She can go with a jock." His words were harsh and cruel. Taken aback, you silently turn and leave the table, suppressing tears. Why is he so mean to me? What did I ever do? Your thoughts were interrupted by a black haired girl running after you, calling your name. Seeing your tears, she sighed softly and pulled you into a hug. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. He doesn't mean it, you know that." She comforted but her words didn't feel true. Not to you. "Meet me at pops later, okay? My treat." And with that, she turned on her heel and marched away, leaving you to calm down. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Jughead Jones the third! What the hell was that?" Her voice was bubbling with anger as she slammed her manicured hand down on the table in front of him. The beanie-clad boy jumped slightly before closing his laptop lid. "You like her so why do you keep making her feel horrible?" She demanded. "I... I don't know. It just came out." He confessed. His hazel eyes were filled with sorrow and regret, for once showing his actual emotion. "She's coming to Pop's tonight with me. Make it up to her." And once again, she left. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From: V💋 To: (y/n/n)✨ 6:30pm, dress nice. U deserve a break. Xx You read the text message and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. It's only Pop's... I guess I should go along with it. You slipped on a short (f/c) dress, pulled your hair into a simple bun and painted your lips a deep red. You had to admit, you looked pretty good. The clock on the wall read 6:15pm and so, with a final check in the mirror, you set off for the diner. The neon sign outside could be seen for miles, despite the sun already setting in the foggy sky. You pushed the door open, the chime of a bell alerting V to your arrival. Ordering your usual chocolate milkshake, you wander over to her smiling. "You look amazing!" She grinned, looking you up and down. "Just stay here, okay? I've gotta take care of something." Like smoke, she whisked herself away without a sound. Closing your eyes, you leant back in the faux leather seats. All memories of the incident with Jughead leaving your mind. Something about the diner always made you feel better. When you opened your eyes again, your milkshake was placed in front of you on a white plate. The ceramic had been scribed on with chocolate sauce in the word: PROM? Cocking your head in confusion, you scanned the room for any clues of who this could have been. Surely it couldn't have been Veronica. She had two 'dates' already! Your (e/c) eyes close, your nose scrunched up in thought. Who? Who could've done this? Thin, (y/n), think! "Don't think too hard." A raspy voice floated through your ears. "You'll pop! And then how are you gonna answer me?" With that, you snap your eyes wide open. Sat in front of you, liking cream off of the cherry of your shake, was the one and only Jughead Jones. On his face, a vaguely amused smile. "You..?" You ask, your voice coming out as more of a whisper. He sighed and you could see regret swimming behind his eyes. "Look, (y/n). I'm sorry I was such an idiot earlier. I snapped because... well, I like you. And honestly, you'd be better off with a jock than a weirdo like me." Your heart felt like it was going to burst as it pounded in your ears. A grin etched itself onto your features, letting out a scoff at his comment. "Jughead Jones the third, I would be honoured to go to prom with you!" Without warning, you stood and moved to his side of the booth. Not hesitating, you flung your arms around his neck and squeezed tight. "I've liked you for so long, Jug. Thank you." In a moment of complete not-Jughead-ness, he pulled you closer to his chest and wrapped his arms around you. He rested his chin on your soft (h/c) hair, absentmindedly smiling to himself. Unknown to the pair of you, Veronica stood outside the window. A satisfied smile on her face, she clapped her hands together. Her ship had sailed.

[kiera-writes]

Requests?

So I'm running really low on inspiration and I was wondering if any of you lovelies would request for me? I will write 'x reader' for: ((Musicals)) - Heathers - Dear Evan Hansen - Be More Chill - RENT - Les Mis - Wicked - Grease ((TV Shows)) - Riverdale - 13 Reasons Why - Doctor Who (9,10+11 only) - Sherlock - Supernatural* ((Movies)) - Harry Potter - Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them - Heathers (I can do movie or musical specific ones) ((Books)) - The Hunger Games - All The Bright Places - Maze Runner* (maybe) - Divergent* So please request away!

[kiera-writes]

JD x Reader - Nightmares (FLUFF)

WC: ? Requested: Yes! By @take-a-look-the-invisible-girl ((I hope this is okay! By all means, tell me if it isn't. I'll gladly fix it!)) Summary: the reader has been having awful nightmares and it leads to one bad school day and a whole lot of fluff! Warnings: swearing, alluding to murder (is that even a warning??) (S/n) = school name (Y/b/n) = your bully's name ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Blood. There was blood everywhere you looked, running red rivers turned into oceans. At your feet, the cold and stiff hand of your mother had fallen. Just moments ago, you had watched her scream and beg for her life. You tried to run towards her, to save her. But your feet were planted forcefully to the spot, ensuring you could see as the tall black figure plunged a knife into her neck. Her pale and lifeless eyes gazed up at you, her mouth hung open in terror. Without warning, her corpse unleashed an ungodly screech, jolting you out of your nightmare. Sweat poured from your body as you peeled your pyjama top off of you and sighed. This was the 4th nightmare of the week and it was only Wednesday. You just couldn't do it anymore. Every night and nap, without fail, you were forced to watch as everyone you loved was slaughtered right before your eyes. Your mother, your father, your sibling and even your boyfriend. The cruel face of the alarm clock read 3:52am. The red numbers blinked at you furiously, angry at your presence. Maybe JD would be awake right now... To: JD🖤 From: (y/n/n)💙 You awake..? X You hovered over the send button for a while before deciding against it. He'd probably just get mad... 'Fuck it', you though. If the nightmares wouldn't stop, you'd just stop sleeping. Tying your (h/l) (h/c) up in a messy ponytail, you pull out a book and begin to read until the sun came up. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Arriving at (s/n), you're greeted by the usual smirk of your boyfriend, Jason 'JD' Dean. In his hand, a blue raspberry slushee cup. "Care for a hit?" He asked you, swinging an arm around your shoulder. "You look like you could use it." Glaring slightly, you take the cup and drink fast, causing a searing cold to tear through your mind like a blade. "Fuck!" You exclaim, making JD chuckle. "Did you sleep at all, (y/n/n)?" He asks, sarcasm dripping from his blue tongue. "Did you?" You quip back, hoping to turn the conversation around. He doesn't need to know, you think. "Not at all, actually. I was... busy." He replies with an air of caution in his voice. You cock your head with confusion, like a lost puppy, but shrug it off. Walking down the halls was weird. Blame it on sleep loss but something felt different. As though somebody was missing... It took about an hour or so but eventually, it clicked. (Y/b/n) wasn't there! You asked around but nobody seemed to know. Apparently they're sick? Something about that didn't sound quite right. But your mind was too foggy with sleep deprivation to care too much. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Days without sleep turned to weeks and each day, your brain became foggier. (Y/b/n) had yet to return to school and an investigation was now underway. You prayed they wouldn't call on you for a statement, knowing that no coherent words would form from your lips. As luck would have it, you had only had to face 2 tests in the last three weeks, both of which you failed pitifully. It was getting bad... Noticeably so. JD had been trying incredibly hard to find out what was wrong with you but you kept your mouth shut tight. He doesn't need to know. He began to wonder if someone was bullying you and became extremely intent on finding out who. When his searches came up empty, he was frantic. "Who is it? You've GOT to tell me! Is it Jack? Katie? Betty?" He was jumping up and down in the hallway, trench coat swinging as he went. To you, he looked hilarious but adorable. Like a dog with a bone, he kept throwing out names in hopes of a reaction. As you walked, the hallway began to stretch and distort before your eyes. The words that your boyfriend was speaking began to float away into white noise, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Slowly, every colour fused into one largely white blob and your knees caved underneath you. The last thing you remember was JD screaming your name. You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact of the solid floor but... it never came. Instead, you felt calloused hands on your bare arm before everything went black. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "JD!! No! Please don't die, please! You can fight him! Please!" You screamed. The familiar scene of torture unfolded in front of you, this time your trench coat clad boyfriend was the victim. The deep red seemed almost neon against his black attire, his screams shook to your core. Not again... You look down to see your wrists shaking, nails drawing blood from your palms. You push harder, trying to move. Nothing. "(Y/n), sweetheart? I heard screaming. What's going o-" Your mother enters the scene. As quickly as she's there, she's gone. Writhing on the floor in agony, you watch the features etched onto her face go stiff. This continues as your father, best friend, sibling and other friends of yours enter and die. It's almost like a conveyor belt in a sick and sadistic factory. Around your feet, corpses litter the floor. Each face filled with its own tragedy. Wake up... please wake up... "Aaaaaaaggggghhhhhhhh!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "(Y/n)? (Y/n)!" Your boyfriend says frantically, watching your body contort with pain. Tears flood down your cheeks, hands balled up in fists around the white sheets. Finally, you wake with a deep and throaty scream. Your voice is hoarse from the internalised screams. Without even acknowledging he was there, you roll over to JD and clutch onto the thick black fabric of his coat. "(Y/n)," he begins, a tone of anger in his voice. "What the hell happened?! You blacked out! And now this!" Teary eyed, you look up to him and sniff. "I... I kept having these n nightmares and I I couldn't sleep so I just s stopped sleeping." You stammer out, feeling weak and weary. You hear the boy above you sigh with disappointment. You shut your eyes tight, preparing for him to shout. Instead, you feel his arms pull you close to his body. Allowing all anger leave his body in the remnants of a head shake, he rests his head atop yours. "W why aren't you mad..?" You question, voice trembling. "I am mad, (y/n). But we can talk about this later. Right now, you need to sleep." With that, he places a gentle kiss atop your (h/c) hair and intertwines his legs with yours. For the first time in weeks, you feel safe. Your eyelids flutter shut as you press your body further into his. For the first time, you sleep peacefully. "I love you, (y/n)" you hear him mutter to himself. Knowing he didn't want you to hear that, you just smile to yourself. That night, you dreamt of him. Alive, well and in love.

[kiera-writes]

(1/2) If it's not to much trouble can I possibly request a JD imagine because your writing is absolutely gorgeous and there isn't enough of the sinamon roll around. Anyhow, so what if him and the reader were together before Westerburg, the reader unaware of his killing sprees {he's getting people who are going after them} begins having nightmares about JD as well as friends and family being brutally slaughtered that cause her to decide to not sleep instead. Anyhow a month or so goes by without-

Okie dokie! X

[kiera-writes]

(2/2) sleep and she just faints on him from exhaustion at school. So he's a little mad but still comforts her when she wakes up from the worst nightmare yet and just holds her till she can sleep? Sorry it took up two asks lol... And this is a long one! I just haven't been sleeping real great and think this could help. Thank you so much. I adore your writing

Aw, that's really sweet! (Thank you for the compliments! :) )I can definitely do that for you and I'll have it up as soon as possible. So is JD murdering people at the moment of the imagine, unknown to the reader, or is he just being his regular sinning self? X

[kiera-writes]

JD x Reader - Promise (FLUFF)

WC: 638 (short, I know!) Warnings: swearing, talk of violence, suicide mention!! (The feels!) Summary: following the plot of the musical, (y/n) fakes her own death causing JD to break (what if he didn't go through with the plan!!) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Come on out, (y/n)! It's not like I'd kill you!" His voice trills from outside of the wooden closet doors. Though his tone is light, there's anger and pain laced within it. For (y/n), all was dark. The sliver of light from the bottom of the doors provided enough light to see your ex-boyfriend, Jason Dean, pacing about her bedroom. A large black shadow swept from side to side, ironically mimicking an expectant death. Your mind was racing, desperately grasping at straws to find an escape. In your head? Boom. Boom. Boom. Your heart beat, louder than any bomb. Knees buckling below your, you struggle like bambi to stand straight. Suddenly, it hit's you. Reaching up, trying to ignore JD's manic rambling, you grab a pair of tights and began threading them across your body before hoisting yourself up. "Fuck this!" He roars. "You have three seconds, (y/n), then I'm coming in there!" "One..." You hang your head limply. "Two..." You hold your breath. "Three!" The door flies open and... silence. Just minutes later, you hear a soft cry trail from the room. Fighting to ignore it, your force your eyes shut and take another large gulp of air. The game becomes harder as the cries escalate into loud, heart wrenching sobs. "Why... why why why why why!!" You can hear him mutter to himself. "This is YOUR fault! You let her die... Idiot!" His voice picks up, the red hot anger bubbling within him. Bang! You resist jumping out of your skin at the sudden noise. Bang! Slowly, you open your eyes and raise your head enough to peak through your (h/c) hair. You watch, horrified, as the boy you love begins smashing his head against your desk with determination. A warm and salty tear pools in the corner of your eye and you can't take it any more. Without a sound, you retrace the fabric across your (s/c) neck and drop to the wooden floor beneath. Not knowing what to say, you simply walk over and sit beside him. The added weight causes the bed to sink further, alerting him to your presence. As he looks up, you feel your heart crack into a thousand pieces, a magnificent destruction. His deep hazel eyes are riddled with red veins and rivers of tears are flooded down his face. His cheeks are red like blood and his dark hair ruffled into oblivion. The boy pauses for a moment, as though inspecting you, proving to himself that you're real. Suddenly, and without warning, he flings his arms around your body and clings tightly. The two of you sit like this for a while, his arms wrapped around your body and you're around him. You glance down and notice the sleeve of his black trench coat has rolled up slightly. Across his pale wrist, a small million of angry red lines adorn him. Some older than others, joining together like a tragic pattern. You bring his arm to your head, placing gentle kisses across each and every line in turn. He sniffles, looking up to meet your caring gaze. "Please..." he stammers out, voice raspy from the tears. "Don't leave me... I I won't d do it, I promise. Just... stay with me." This time, you believe every word. The young boy in front of you was not the same as the one from just 10 short minutes ago. Every raging fuse has fizzled out, every wall broken down. Now, he was raw. You saw the child in him. You saw every scar and bruise, every harsh word and abandonment. He looked so... weak. You bring a shaky hand to his chin and lift it, as though you're scared he'll break. A small smile twitches on your face. " I promise, JD. Our love is god."

[kiera-writes]

Connor Murphy x Reader - Freak (FLUFF)

WC: ??? Warnings: lots of swearing (it's Connor, come on now) Summary: (y/n) and Connor work together on a school project about a romance novel... Requested?: on Wattpad ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ First day at a new school and all (y/n) could think of was how huge the place is! From the outside there were three visible floors that stretched across for miles either way. Lost in thought, you fail to notice your childhood friend walk up behind you. "'Sup, (y/n/n)!" The one and only Jared Kleinman says, swinging his arm around your shoulder. You shrug him off, masking a smile. You hadn't seen Jared in years and, though he's clearly still an idiot, you'd kinda missed him. "You got the first day jitters yet?" He jokes at you. "As if. I've moved around since I was 6! I've got this, man." You remark, heading towards the doors as the sharp shrill of the bell chimes. Your first class was English, a subject that always had you caught between love and hate. Stepping into the full room, you scan about to find the one empty seat left. Sat in the chair next to it is a rather tall boy with long brown hair and a huge black jacket on. With a deep breath, you stride towards him, feigning confidence. I hope he doesn't mind... You pull out the chair and sit down with a plonk. Your (f/c) skirt splaying out around you. "Hey," you whisper to him. "I hope you don't mind but there aren't any other seats left in the class." Your attempt to strike up a conversation falls flat as the somewhat moody kid scoffs at you and turns away. "I'm sorry. My name's (y/n)." "Good for you." You hear him mutter under his breath. Now visibly irritated, you turn away and pull out your notebook. Laying it in the middle of your actual work page to disguise the fact you really didn't want to take notes, you begin to scribble rapidly, ideas and images flowing out of your pen like magic. From the corner of your eye, you see the boy turn to you slightly. Page after page fills up, black ink tattooing the clean canvas. "Connor." A rough voice says from beside you. Turning with surprise, you cock your head. "My name. It's, uh, Connor." Slowly, a smile creeps onto your face. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you!" You exclaim, happy to have drawn some conversation from him. She's new, he had thought to himself, she doesn't know you. She doesn't know that you're a freak, yet. As the class was about to finish, the room filled with idle chatter. Over the top, the teacher was demanding silence and being profusely ignored. "Stop it now, all of you! I have a project to set and if you don't listen, I have half a mind to fail you all now!" That shut everyone up. "Thank you. Now, as I was saying, to help get your creative juices flowing, I will be assigning everyone a classic book for you to review by Monday!" He was met by a collective groan, to which he abhorrently ignored. "I want all of you to pair up now before I start choosing books." Shit... nobody's gonna want to pair with the new kid... Shit... nobody's gonna want to pair with the freak... Gingerly, you turn to Connor and hope he understands what's going through your head. He grants you a small nod, barely noticeable, and with that you have a partner. Standing to leave the room, the teacher turns to the pair of you. "(Y/n) and Connor! Oh you're so lucky! You shall be reviewing the wonderful Pride And Prejudice!" "A love story?" Connor shoots back with disgust. "Yeah. We're sooooo lucky". The sarcasm oozes from his words as he storms off. Behind him, the teacher begins to babble. Something about it being 'so much more than love' or something? "Hey, um, Connor?" You call after him, jogging to keep up with his strides. The boy ignores you, stomping onwards with force. "Connor!" You demand, taken somewhat aback by the power in your voice. "What?!" He snaps back, furiously. You step back nervously before clearing your throat and breathing in. "Doyouwannamaybehavemynumbersowecantalkabouttheprojectandstuff?" You sputter out, praying he understood. Connor looms over you, standing a good foot taller than yourself and cocks his eyebrow. You couldn't tell if it was humour, mockery or plain confusion. "Sorry..." You hang your head. "Do you want my number? So we can talk about the project and stuff?" You try again, retracing your words with caution. You hold your breath, ready for him to shout again but instead, you feel him reach for your arm and roll up the sleeve of your (other f/c) jumper. "W what are you d doing?" You ask, cursing yourself for the stammer. "What does it look like? I don't have any paper so here!" He replies, bluntly. You look down and there, in shimmery numbers, was what could only be his phone number. You turn to smile to him but he's already gone, leaving you alone in the long hallway. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sat at home on your bed, you put the shining numbers into your phone and type out a message. To: Connor From: (unknown number) Hey, it's (y/n). When do you wanna meet up about the project? X Hoping to god that he actually gave you the right number, you hit send and place your phone behind you. About 10 minutes later, whilst you were sat reading the assigned book, a chirp came from your phone. To: (y/n) From: Connor Idk. Tomorrow, mine? To: Connor From: (y/n) Sounds good. What's ur address? Ping! Connor sent his location We're all set. The following day at school went rather dully. Jared had taken it upon himself to give you a... not so PG tour of the school. He seemed to know just about everything about who hooked up with who and where. He also mentioned Connor briefly, calling him 'freak'. Though not sure why, you found yourself defended him against your childhood friend which earned you a day of teasing. Despite you ensuring him it was no more than a project, he now calls you Mrs Freak. Finally, the last bell rang and you rushed home to get ready. Though not sure why, you felt the need to present nicely today. You slipped on a soft t-shirt with a laced up front in (f/c) and a pair of skinny black jeans. You were just about to leave the door when... Ping! Your phone sang. To: (y/n) From: Connor U don't have 2 come tonight if u don't want. Don't want u getting a bad rep or whatever You blink at the screen, partially confused. Why on earth would you get a bad reputation for hanging with him? To: Connor From: (y/n) Never been one 4 reputation. See u in 5 x You shoot back at him, shaking off the confusion and heading through the door. To you, Connor was an enigma. Something about him seemed so trapped. As though that harsh exterior was masking something. You couldn't help but think about him as you padded down the hot concrete pavement. The way his long hair fell to his shoulders, his sharp bone structure, his perfectly painted nails polished in black. He was kind of cute... Shaking it off with a sigh, you try and divert your mind to the project as you approach the Murphy house. Whatever you do, (y/n), do NOT get a crush on the guy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Inside of Connor's room was a weird and tense atmosphere. The kid had never had a girl in his room before and so he watched and marvelled as you took in your surroundings. On the walls were rows and rows of book ranging from classic literature to modern comic books. "Wow, Connor!" You gasped, in awe of the arrangements. "This is amazing! I didn't have you pinned as such a reader!" While you spoke, Connor found himself staring into your sparking (e/c) eyes. "Y yeah. I read a lot. It helps with... stuff." He forced out, trailing off at the end before he said too much. "So!" You said suddenly, clapping your hands and swivelling on your heels. "With all of these books, have you ever read Pride And Prejudice?" "I, uh, yeah. I have." He replied, ramming his clammy hands into his jean pockets. Why the fuck are you freaking out?! It's just a dumb project. Not like you'll see her again after this. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Aaaaaand... done!" You sigh, contently. Between you, Connor and you had managed to complete the project in about 2 hours. Though little to your knowledge, Connor had spent a lot more time looking at you than at the screen. In the time it had taken for you to write the review, he had noticed so much about you. The way you'd let your hair fall across your face without noticing from being so distracted. The way you'd bite the inside of your cheek while thinking. Even the way your breathing would pick up as you sped up your typing. He scolded himself for noticing but he found every little detail so... endearing. It felt like the time had gone so fast and, deny it though he might, he didn't want you to leave. "So... you going now or what?" He asked, hating how forceful he sounded. "Oh! Um... I told my parents I'd be back at 8..." You say, embarrassed a little. Glancing at the clock, it read 4:13pm. You had hours left and no way back into your house. "Youcanstay." "I'm sorry, what did you say?" "You can stay here until then. If you'd like... that is?" Connor felt the heat rise in his face, turning away from you in hopes he could mask it. Connor Murphy does NOT blush! Without thinking, you grin wildly and fling your arms around his neck happily. But, like he had burned you, you recoiled quickly, muttering a thousand apologies into your chest. Ah shit... I think I've got a crush! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Moments passed by, feeling like hours, as the pair of you sat in silence. You were certain that the hug had messed things up, unaware of Connor's racing heart. It was him that broke the tension with a quiet fact. "You really seem to get the whole lovey dovey shit in the novel." "Oh! Thank you. It's a better book than I thought it was, actually." You replied, unsure of his point. "Do you... fuck... do you have a boyfriend then?" This takes you by surprise. You open your mouth to tell him but are rapidly cut off by him rambling again. "I mean, it's not like I fucking care! Why should I care? You're probably very happy with him and that's just fucking great, isn't it!!" He erupts, getting louder and harsher with each word. You were baffled by what was happening in front of your eyes. He turns from you, muttering furiously to himself. You catch the odd curse word but nothing more. Slowly, you reach out to touch his arm. Your fingers curl around the black fabric, surprised he hasn't pulled away yet, as you turn him to face you. "Connor..." you begin, nervously. "I don't have a boyfriend. Look, are you oka-" Your words are cut off by his lips pressed to yours. They're oddly soft and you can taste mint and weed in your throat. But as soon as he's there's, he's gone again. "I'm sorry! I didn't know what came over me and I just... maybe it'd be best if-" This time, you're the one to cut him off. You place your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. It takes a moment but soon you feel his arms wrap tightly around your waist. You pull away, putting your forehead against his and smiling. "Thank you..." he breathed so only you could here it. Not wanting to ask what for, you lean your chin on his shoulder as he holds you. Connor wouldn't tell you but he was scared. He clutched onto you like you would just disappear in his arms at any second. He couldn't let that happen. The first person to see him as something other than a freak. He wasn't about to lose you now. Not now, not ever...