and gave me a restraining order

Why I Started Sugaring

I have a pretty unconventional reason as to why I started sugaring and why I still love it to this day. 

I was in a few year relationship that was wonderful. We had a healthy life together and eventually decided to move in together. I don’t know what triggered it, but upon moving in he became insanely jealous. Making mean comments about my clothing choices and asking why dinner with my girls took so long. About a month later we were on vacation in my hometown and he grew jealous of my male friend since childhood. He put his hands on me that night and I told him the next day it was over and I would never be with him again. I didn’t know why his personality changed so sharply, but I gave him leeway in moving out of our apartment because I loved him. After a couple weeks, I started asking when he was leaving more often. He started getting angry and violent. We slept in different bedrooms. I started making plans to leave because I just wanted out of everything, even though I had paid the deposit and the first two months rent. Then one day, he held me down and raped me.

It took a while for me to really call it what it was. I blamed myself for putting myself in that situation in the first place. I never told anyone, not even my therapist. I’m a naturally sexual person, young and attractive. I felt like my sexuality and womanhood was disgusting after that. I couldn’t imagine how I would feel trying to be intimate with a new partner I cared about. 

Meanwhile, I was closing in on graduating college. I had $9k in credit card debt and $6k in student loans and wasn’t where I wanted to be in my life. I ditched most of my friends in the aftermath of my relationship.

I am fortunate that the first man I met on SA was an experienced gentleman and knew how to treat me. I didn’t even have time to be nervous about our date because it was brief and last second as he was flying out that evening. I didn’t have time to be attacked by the initial sleaziness of that site. He gave me a cash gift for that first date and was very straightforward and honest. I still ask him for favors to this day.

Being in a sugar relationship gave me the power to take back my sexuality. It made me feel like it was my choice. I entered into each engagement without fear. I was always worried how I’d feel with my next boyfriend, if the first time I had sex after being raped would disgust me. It didn’t matter if that happened with these men, I could get up and leave any time.

My ex also owed me over $3k, which I will never get since I eventually had to file a restraining order. I felt stupid. I like to think I’m an independent smart woman, I would always be more than happy to go dutch or pick up the check because that was who I was. But that was just dumb. I never felt comfortable asking men for things, I always felt like I needed to prove myself. 

Sugaring taught me it was okay to expect more from men and ask for favors, that it didn’t take away from my strength as a woman. I’ve learned that usually men who care about you will acquiesce. I know some of you girls hustle and love to pull one over on stupid guys. And sometimes I feel like men deserve to be fucked over because of what happened to me. But luckily my SRs have been nourishing and have taught me so many empowering things about simply being who I am. 

I have traveled the country, gone to Europe twice with my SDs. I carry a nice purse and bought a new car. I paid off all of my debt before I graduated and have $5k in an emergency fund and $30k invested in investments. I’ve been sugaring for about a year and a half. 

But I’m not extravagant. I work an 8-5. I have normal friends and talk to my mom every day. My closet is not designer, I save most of my money. I have a few stories that still make me cringe because I wasn’t well versed in the sugar world at the beginning. 

I suppose what I want to say, is that I am not cynical nor outrageously pampered. I’m right in between. I love being a sugar babe, I love having someone spoil me since I’ve never been spoiled before. I genuinely appreciate the experiences I’ve been given. I’ve had four successfully SRs. I’m in one now. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that a good sugar relationship can be empowering in more ways than just financial. 


Surprise! Another fic for Nessian Smut Week! (Note: Takes place in fae universe) Hopefully you all enjoy it since I am still testing out the waters of writing mature content. Happy reading~!


           “Whatever you want sweetheart. Just give the word,” Cassian smirks and shrugs his shirt off.  Her pale hands rove his exposed chest riddled with scars. She glides fingers down his tanned muscled skin. Nesta leans up to give him open-mouthed kisses on his collarbone.          

            “I want more than words Cassian. I want you moaning for me and making me never want to leave this bed.” Nesta gripped the sides of his face and brought him down in a searing kiss.     

Leaves rustled above Nesta as she sat on a branch overlooking her previous home. Her fae ears could pick out the sound of her father moving in one of the rooms from the opened windows as summer breeze stirred the loose stands of golden brown hair that had escaped the simple braid.

Currently she was wearing plain clothes she had taken from the local village. She didn’t feel terribly bad for the theft since the clothes were mostly ragged, but she couldn’t stand to stay in her fine Night Court clothes after wearing them through her journey. The dark blue shirt she now wore was large enough that it hung slightly off her shoulder and the pants were a tad tight, but she wasn’t going to complain if that meant she could wear clean clothes.

Nesta closed her eyes in contemplation. She had left the Night Court almost five days ago as quickly as she could. Not a moment was spared to grab anything with her or tell anyone where she was going. Which was how she wanted it to be. She hated herself for not warning her sisters ahead of time so they wouldn’t worry, but Nesta had to leave the Night Court before she did or say something she regretted.

The painful memory of Cassian and Nesta’s fight flooded her mind. They were arguing, but that wasn’t uncommon. Usually the fight was nothing major. They would bicker about the small things and tease one another, but their last argument turned into a battle zone. It started off small and escalated into a yelling match.

She faintly recalled that the disagreement stemmed from her wanting to participate in the Blood Rite.  The Rite meant she would go unarmed into the mountains at the Illyrian camp without using her magic, Siphons or supplies. Nesta wanted to prove the Illyrians who still thought her frail and useless that she was a force to be reckoned with. She would show them that she was a true warrior rather than a weakling so many of believed her to be. And she planned to beat those pricks by using the Blood Rite they thought meant everything toward being a true Illyrian warrior.

But Cassian was firmly against it. He couldn’t allow his mate on the mountains alone with no allies against hundreds of Illyrians males who would seek her out and try to destroy her.

“You can’t order me not to be in the Blood Rite Cassian,” Nesta said firmly. “It’s my choice.”

“Like hell you’re going into those mountains,” Cassian turned to face her with his arms crossed. He held the posture of the Army Commander who wasn’t willing to budge on this matter. “Nesta those males will do everything in their power to break you up there. My blood is already boiling with the thought of what they would do if they got their hands on you.”

“Let them try,” Nesta haughtily turned her head up to face her mate. “I’m strong enough to take them.”

“Nesta you underestimate them-“

No, you’re underestimating me Cassian.”

“I’m not.” Cassian inhaled trying to control himself as he explained. “Why can’t you just trust me on this Nesta?”

“Because it’s my right Cassian!” Nesta flew her hands in the air in exasperation.

“You were not born an Illyrian Nesta,” Cassian raised his voice as well. “You have no idea what it means to take part in the Rite and I’ll be dead before you’re put in that danger.”

“So you intend chain me like Tamlin tried with Feyre?” Nesta argued back. At this point their voices could be heard by anyone in the House of Wind.

“Don’t you dare compare me to that fucking prick,” Cassian snarled. “I’ve trained with you and allowed you to train with the other Illyrians which is far more than what that bastard ever gave your sister.”

“You allow me to train? Well Commander maybe you should watch yourself, because last I checked I don’t take orders from brutes who think they can control me!”

“You won’t be participating in the damn Blood Rite,” Cassian brushed past Nesta as if wanting to end the argument before it got out of control. But it was already too late.

"Yes. I. Will.” Nesta gritted out and faced Cassian who froze in the kitchen. His hazel eyes darkened and Nesta could see the red Siphons flicker with restrained power.

“Don’t Nesta.” Cassian spoke in a deadly calm manner. “I am asking you to please listen to me instead of thinking about your pride right now.”

“And why?! Why should I when you won’t let me do this one-“

“What would happen if any of those males banded together against you Nesta? Do you think they will go easy on you?” Cassian’s voice boomed with unleashed emotions. “Do you know what would happen if they restrained you? A female, at their mercy? I can imagine that they would do far worse things than what happened you as a human. Is that what you want Nesta? To be taken advantage of and being at their fucking mercy while I can’t do anything to help?” Cassian’s chest heaved in deep breaths. He released his pent up worries and rage at the thought of Nesta being hurt by someone.

His words echoed between them and Nesta was frozen.

Memories of her past with Tomas didn’t plague her mind as often as they used to. She had grown stronger and more resilient since that day. As a human she had narrowly escaped him and as a stronger fae she didn’t imagine she could be pushed into a position like that again. But now Cassian had trudged up those memories and put them in a harsher light.

Cassian thinks I’m still that defenseless human girl who could barely protect herself.

The thought felt like a slap to the face and hurt worse when she could feel the way he was scared for her down the bond. He truly didn’t think she was strong enough to protect herself.

Sadness swept Nesta up before she could control herself. A tinge of anger and fear swirled in the depths of despair that Nesta had fallen into. She quickly put up walls against the bond. Blocking him out and keeping her thoughts and feelings hidden behind them.

Cassian’s head snapped up at the brief flicker emotions he felt from Nesta before her walls cleaved him off.


“Don’t.” Nesta backed away. “Just don’t Cassian.”

He took a small step toward her as if approaching an animal that may bolt in fright. His expression was one of shock and regret. A phantom hand tried to comfort her down the bond, but was met with fortified walls. Cassian’s breath stuttered when he felt their connection blocked by the walls she built.

Nesta didn’t stick around the House of Wind. She hurried away and sought sanctuary away from the pain in his eyes as she fled from him.

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Zach Werenski #1 - Skate Date

Anon asked: Hey! Could you write a zach werenski imagine where you guys go on a skate date and you play hockey too?

This is officially my first answered request.  Anon I hope I did your prompt justice! I kind of flip flopped the prompt so that the date came last, I hope that is okay. I also took the liberty of picking OSU because of its closeness to the Nationwide Arena and because Zach went to the University of Michigan. Cute couple rivals? Maybe… 

Being from the north, hockey had always been a huge part of your life. You were four years old the first time a stick touched your hands and you never looked back. For girls though, you understood the serious lack of ability to pursue the sport as a career but when The Ohio State University offered you a full ride to play for their team you readily accepted. You were unfamiliar with Ohio seeing as how you weren’t originally from there but it quickly became home.

A certain tradition existed with your team you soon found out, when after a particularly grueling practice the captain called everyone into a huddle. As a way to get to know the team better and still keep it hockey related, the university had a program set up with the local NHL team; the Columbus Blue Jackets. They sent both the male and female hockey teams tickets to a game and potentially provided the opportunity to meet a select few players. This was all part of their plan to get good press and persuade the local student population to attend their games.

You of course were beyond excited to attend. As a student your budget is pretty limited and while you loved hockey, you couldn’t find it in you to spend your small savings on a ticket. This small stroke of luck, as you fondly remembered it was how you were introduced to your boyfriend; Zach Werenski, a defenseman for the Columbus Blue Jackets.

The game against the Wild had been too close for any of you to relax properly but in the end the Blue Jackets squeaked out a 1-0 win. While the other fans filed out you and your team sat firmly in your seats as instructed and waited for security to find you and escort you to a more private location. No information on who you’d be meeting was revealed and on the walk down you listened to your team discuss who they hoped it’d be. You tuned out of the conversation because if asked you didn’t know if you’d be able to stop yourself from revealing your horrible crush on a certain defenseman. Only your roommate knew of your infatuation and that was because you two practically lived in each other’s pockets with how small the dorms are.

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I read hxh before bed and had a dream hisoka broke into my work and gave me his clown shoes so I tried them on and couldn’t take them off and it turned me into a clown my boss fired me my family got a restraining order against me and hisoka took my life while I was the outcast and I’m never reading hxh again I was clown doxxed

Fred Weasley Imagine: “Thinking out loud”

Hi, I wanted to request an imagine were Fred heard the reader singing Thinking Out Loud in the shower and he sing that 4 her on their wedding, when she ask him how did he remembered that he says: bc u were naked,ur voice is beautiful and I love u thx

Requested by @ladyweronikahouseofbooks

Today was the best day of your life. You were no longer [y/f/n] [y/l/n], but [y/f/n] Weasley. You still couldn’t believe Fred Weasley was your husband. The ceremony had been simply magical. Your family, the Weasleys and some friends had attended it and filled the day with happy tears and bright smiles that you’d always keep in your heart.

Everybody had already gone home, leaving you and Fred alone. The musicians weren’t there either, but that didn’t prevent the Weasley twin from holding you by the waist as your arms draped over his shoulders. You were dancing without music on, but you couldn’t care less. You didn’t want this perfect moment to end. Suddenly, Fred leaned in and hummed lowly in your ear,

“When your legs don’t work like they used to before

And I can’t sweep you off of your feet

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?”

His voice wasn’t the best, yet the fact that he tried made you simper like a fool. The prankster could be a hopeless romantic when he wanted.

“How do you know I like this song? It is muggle…” you breathed out in disbelief, your heart pounding strongly in your chest at the realization that he probably memorized the lyrics solely to surprise you.

Fred smirked then, and your knees went weak. You felt thankful he kept supporting as you swung across the dance-floor. Otherwise, you would have fallen down. He simply had that effect on you.

“Well, babe, you sang it the other day in the shower…”

Confusion was plastered on your face. You weren’t the one to sing, after all. Your eyes narrowed, trying to remember the exact moment that happened. When you finally did, your cheeks turned scarlet in embarrassment. You sang that song in the shower, indeed. You thought there wasn’t anybody else home, so you let go and sang from the tops of your lungs this one special song that had been stuck in your head for weeks.

“I thought I was alone,” you whispered timidly. “You had just left…”

Fred’s rich chuckle sent shivers down your spine.

“I forgot something and when I came back you gave me quite the performance, Mrs. Weasley,” he revealed amused.

Your cheeks were burning by then. However, there was something that moved you: he remembered. He remembered that muggle song you sang a month ago.

“How can you remember it?”

“You were naked, [y/f/n]… I think that is self-explanatory,” he teased, rolling his eyes.

You stopped dancing abruptly and hit his shoulder playfully as you bit your bottom lip in order to restrain yourself from calling him something you might regret later. Your reaction only made him chortle. Once the laughter subsided, he brought you closer to him and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I remember it because your voice is beautiful and because I love you.”

His honest response left you breathless. Thankfully, he wasn’t expecting any answer. He simply kept singing, his voice echoing in the free-of-guests room.

“So, honey, now

Take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Place your head on my beating heart

I’m thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are”

Originally posted by my-harry-potter-generation

Another totally harmless episode that left no one rolling around on the floor soaked in their own tears. How quaint!

Why, WHY did they decide to pack all these emotional episodes so close together? This is torture. This is NOT fair. I never gave this show permission for waking my dead, cold, black heart and making me feel. I want a restraining order against this show. I’m sick of it! 

There’s a lot to dissect from this episode, but I think I’m going to wait and do most of that after the end of the season, which is coming up soon-ish! Just a handle of episodes left. We’ll get there, sooner or later. For now I’ll say this: Pearl is a wonderful character, and I love her complexity. 

As far as ratings go, I’d be remiss not to give this one a 10. It’s *not* dethroning On the Run for me, but it’s wrestling Alone Together for the #2 spot. I’ll have to give it some time to decide that, though. 

Next up is Open Book. Another fairly innocuous title that’s just vague enough to have me worried. 

For now, I’m off to bleach my hair because that’s a smart thing to do at 2 AM. Then I’ll be back to answer the asks!

See ya then! ~

Praise Me Like A Diamond

Pairing: Jikook/ Side SugaKookie/ Side Vhope/ Side Namjin

Rating: R

Warning: Angst, Fluff, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink…


Jungkook is the CEO of BitHit Enterprise- one of the most famous vehicle distributors in the World. He’s a well acclaimed and established person. Many would say that he’s an all rounded person- the perfect husband material. In fact, Jungkook is the pure definition of what the ‘Perfect Man’ entails- the prime combination of success and handsome.


Jungkook had it all, dreamy chocolate brown eyes, the kind that someone could get lost in easily. Sharp jawline, pink lips and soft dark hair- anyone would swoon over this man and bow before him. Everyone except…

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Pairing: James Madison x Reader CUZ THERE ISN’T ENOUGH OF THIS IN THE WORLD 

Inspired by a post by @fanficspromptsandfun: “1. I was really tired after a long shift, and I accidentally walked into your apartment, but wow you’re really cute." 

Trigger Warnings: Punching and black eyes, poorly edited lol

Working as a waitress and bussing tables was not your ideal job. No, you were striving to be a CSI, your dream job since you were twelve. You were a forensics freak ever since discovering shows like CSI, Law and Order, Dexter. You had only become a waitress to pay for school. Your family couldn’t afford for you to attend, but you were determined to make it happen. 

Today, however, was making you somewhat regret that choice. You’d had the busiest day in the diner. Birthdays after graduations after football games. The list never ended. It was like everyone in the world had collectively decided to come to your diner. You had to work a double shift just to compensate for all the extra costumers. 

And, of course, very few people tipped. The food was too hot. The food was too cold. The waitress took too long to refill my drink. What do you mean you don’t take this coupon? You could’ve filled a book with impatient people’s complaints. 

So here you were, unlocking the door to your apartment building and shuffling over to the elevator while talking to your mother on the phone. You leaned your head on the wall as you pressed the button and waited. "Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Mom. It comes with the job, ya know." 

Your mother sighed on the other side, feeling helpless with her daughter away from home, "I’m sure we can scrounge up some money to send you, baby–" 

"Mom, I’m fine. Everything is fine.” You told her. “You don’t need to send me anything.”

“Are you sure, honey?" 

"I mean, unless you wanna send your famous triple chocolate cake." 

"I’m on it.” Your mother chuckled.

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!" 

"Love you more, sweetie.”

You let out a groan after hanging up, feeling like this entire process of getting home was taking way too long. 


A curly haired man gives you a strange look on his way out, but you couldn’t care less. You pressed your floor, seven, then waited. You had never waited longer in your life. It seemed that because you wanted to take a relaxing shower and go to bed that the world decided you wouldn’t. 


Finally the doors opened and you, without opening your eyes, walked towards your apartment. You’d taken the walk blindfolded before, thanks to a dare from your friends, so you knew the way. In your tired state you forgot you need a key, so you simply turned the doorknob. 

And it opened. 

The rational side of your brain was telling you to be worried. Someone could’ve broken into your house, or been in there right now, ready to kill the next person that walked in. Guess this is it then, you thought. 

You collapsed onto your couch and took a deep breath. You were just falling asleep when you heard a scuffle. You sat up immediately and turned, looking at the corner that led to a hallway. 

Someone was down there. 

You stood up and pressed your back to the other side of the wall. You were convinced that tonight would be your last night alive. You grabbed the closest thing, a candle holder, as your weapon. As you inched closer to the corner, you heard footsteps slowly making their way down the hall. 

Wait, you thought, I don’t own a candle holder. 

You looked around and saw a soft white couch, a book shelf, and a large TV mounted on the wall. You didn’t own any of those things. 


You put the candle holder back and turned the corner, ready to speak, “I a–”


Two minutes later, you were sitting in a stranger’s kitchen stool at the island. You giggled to yourself, holding your right eye as he frantically looked around his kitchen for the first aid kit. “I am so sorry!” He said again. “It’s okay.” You repeated. “Normally, I’d hit you back, but I did break into your house." 

"I’d feel better if you did." 

You laughed, "You can’t be serious. It was an accident; you thought I was an intruder. I could’ve had a gun.” He handed you an ice pack with a glum look on his face, “But you didn’t. Besides, there’s never an excuse for hitting a woman.” You all but slapped the ice pack against your eye, wincing at the pain. The stranger was immediately at your side with big, brown doe eyes. He placed his hand on yours and gently sat the ice pack on your swelling eye. “You have to hit me." 

"I’m not gonna hit you." 

"You have to." 

"No, I don’t." 

"It’s only fair." 

"It’s not like you hit me on purpose." 

"Doesn’t matter." 

"Are you for real?" 

He crossed his arms over his chest with an unchanging expression. His gaze was stubborn, but gentle at the same time. You could tell he wasn’t used to being stubborn, but you could also see that he wasn’t going to let this go. It was only then that you realized how cute he was. Your heart began to beat faster upon this realization. You stood up and placed your ice pack on the table. "So if I hit you,” You started, “We’re even. And you’ll let this go." 

"You’ll have to hit me to find out." 

You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. "Close your eyes.” You told him. “I can’t look at you when I hit you. I’ll feel too bad." 


“'Cause you’re cute." 

You’d caught yourself and him by surprise. You felt the heat rushing to your cheeks as he gave you a knowing smile. You smiled back at him, loosely curling your fist. "I’m gonna regret this." 

"I won’t." 

"Oh, shut up." 


Moments later, he joined you at the kitchen island with an ice pack. You both touched your ice pack to other’s, as if making a toast. "Here’s to black eyes.” You said with a giggle. 

“Here here." 

"You know, it’s probably a good idea to know the name of the person’s house I broke into.” You said nonchalantly. “I mean, I’d like to at least know the person who’s gonna put out a restraining order against me.” The brown-eyes stranger laughed, a sound you were starting to like, “James. James Madison.” You shook his free hand with a small laugh, “Y/N Y/L/N." 

The two of you talked for hours, taking turns to replace each other’s ice pack. You talked about everything. Your jobs, your family, sports, music, books, TV shows. It was like the two of you could keep a conversation going forever. You felt yourself started to fall for him. It was the way he looked at you when you talked, or smiled, or did anything. You treat you as if you were the most interesting person in the world. And in his mind you were. 

James realized, when you were deep into explaining your why you wanted to be a CSI, that you weren’t just some girl that accidentally broke into his house. You were smart, driven, and passionate. Not to mention gorgeous. There wasn’t a single thing about you he didn’t like. And it didn’t help that his heart was beating faster than it has in years. He knew he was falling for you as well, and was hoping that this wasn’t the last you’d be spending time with him. 

Suddenly, it was 4 AM, and you realized you had to work that afternoon. "I should go.” You told James. “I have to work tomorrow. Er, today.” You swore you saw a small look of sadness in his eyes, but it quickly passed, “Of course." 

As he walked you to the front door, you turned, all of a sudden super nervous. "You okay?” He asked, concerned. “Can I have your number?” You asked nervously. “I mean, who else am I supposed to call when I need something punched?” He chuckled at your behavior, never having been in this position before. It was always him awkwardly asking for someone’s number. It seemed really being on the other side of the spectrum. But he didn’t mind. He thought nervous-you was cute. 

He put his number in your phone and made sure you got into your apartment, the one next to his, safe. After changing your clothes and laying in your bed, you picked up your phone. 

To James: Don’t forget to lock your door. 

From James: You’re not funny. 

To James: I’m hilarious. 

From James: Goodnight Y/N. 

To James: Goodnight James

The next afternoon, you were walking out the door to head to work just in time to see James, wearing a pair of sunglasses, and the curly-haired man from last night leaving the elevator. “Thomas, will you let it go, please?" 

"No, it’s the dead of winter. It’s not sunny outside. Why are you wearing sunglasses?” The man, Thomas, asked. “Do you have a hangover?" 

You giggled quietly as you locked your door, slipping your sunglasses on as well. 

"No, I do not have a hangover." 

"I’m gonna take them off." 

As you walked by, you gave James a small smirk, unnoticed by Thomas. You couldn’t see behind his glasses, but you know he playfully rolled his eyes at you. "Thomas, don’t you dare." 

"If you’d just take them off–" 

"I’m not taking them off." 

"Why not?" 

"It’s none your business." 

"I’m Thomas Jefferson. Everything is my business." 


"Do it." 

You heard a scuffle behind you, causing you to giggle, when the elevator dinged. You heard his glasses fall off as leaned against the back wall of the elevator. You watched as Thomas gasped, "Damn! What happened to your eye?!" 

You started laughing, both heads turning your way. You waved as the doors started to close, hearing James tell you, "Shut up.” He chuckled as the doors closed and you took a deep breath. You managed to hear the end of the conversation, smiling to yourself. 

“So, you’re gonna tell me why you and this hot girl both have black eyes, right?" 

"Just go inside, Thomas.”

Silent Torment

Author: @agilitylove

Rating: M (Trigger Warnings: Suicide attempt; mention of drunk driving; attempted rape)

Summary: When Katniss doesn’t think her life can get any worse, someone comes in to save her…

I’m standing at the edge as my mind races. I’ve been at this cliff a hundred times. I came here first with my father when I was little. And after he passed away in that car wreck with the drunk driver, I stayed away for several months. But, eventually, I decided that Prim needed to see it. She needed to understand the importance of this place. What it meant to me and us.

Am I really going to do this? I think to myself. This is the right choice after all. There’s no happiness left here. Nothing I can do to make things better. Prim is grown up and finding her own way in the world. She doesn’t need me here dragging her down. My breath hitches and I feel myself shaking. My heart thuds loudly in my ears and all I hear is the rushing of water below.

“Katniss, please don’t move.” I hear the crunch of leaves under shoes and I already know who it is by the voice. It’s Peeta. I’m sure he knew exactly where to come looking for me when I decided not to show up for our Saturday movie and junk food day. I’m not sure why he’s here. His life would be better without me as well. He’s too good for me. Too kind and gracious and I’m nothing.

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And called it macaroni

So a while back I made this post with some of my headcanons for modern AU John Laurens, and then some of you asked for more. So I poked my brain a little, and it was like, naaaah. And then I poked it a little more and it was like OKAY, YOU ASKED FOR IT. And so here I sit stunned and bemused six hours later with almost 5,000 words, at least some of which contain John Laurens making macaroni and cheese for his roommate, Alex Hamilton.

The worst part is, I might even expand further

Edit/update: What have I done.

Notes: You need to read the headcanons post (linked above) to understand this one, since it expands on the last few points in a mini-story I wrote there. The headcanons were based on the Chernow biography of Hamilton, but this particular fic is Hamilton musical and biography-compatible in the sense that it is a modern AU based on characters that appear in both.

Warnings: References to severe injury and emotionally-abusive parents. Strong language throughout.

Genre: Elements of curtain fic (I’m not kidding, John literally does the dishes and makes macaroni), angst, and fluff. Mostly fluff.

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anonymous asked:

Hold up the lady who was stalking Ash is 30 YEARS OLD? I'm using the term lady lightly as there is no way someone of that age should act like an immature twat. His testimony gave me the creeps, and glad he has a restraining order on her as her actions ruined any chance of seeing BVB ever again. So proud of Ash, he finally put his foot down and say enough is enough!

Yup she’s a grown ass woman acting like a child.

My little test subject: Chapter 6

Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, and chapter 5

Angsty Tomtord fic with slight Paultryk on the side.

WARNING! This fic contains: Foul language, torture scenes, blood, use of medical tools, drug use, suicidal tendencies, self-neglect, violence, self-harm, and a little bit of stockholm syndrome and force feeding. Viewer discretion is advised.

Silence. There was only a dead, awkward silence after Tord and Patryk left the room. Neither Tom or Paul made any effort to talk, making it seem like a long game of: “who talks first”. Tom was too busy glaring at the ground to pay the soldier any notice anyway. His mind kept replaying his recent encounter with Tord. Stupid Tord, with his stupid army, stupid soldiers, stupid robotic arm, and stupid f#cking serum. He thought angrily. He thinks he can boss me around and treat me like trash just because I gave him permission to.

Meanwhile, Paul simply didn’t know what to do. Tord ordered him to get done with the procedure, but on the other hand, Tom seemed unstable and unpredictable; who knows what he’ll do in the state he’s currently in. Sure, he’s restrained, but still highly dangerous. Especially if what Tord says it’s true. If Tom does indeed have a part of the monster serum inside of him, he could potentially change at any given moment and attack him. Regardless, Paul was not looking forward to this at all.

So, until Tord gets back or he musters up the courage to just go ahead and do it, Paul just stood there; shifting his legs uncomfortably and rocking back and forth while humming a little tune in his mind.

Tom caught movement in his visual perimeter and saw Paul, trying to distract himself. Tom almost could’ve laughed at the sight, but he quickly crushed whatever speck of humour there was in him when he remembered that said soldier was the reason he was there to begin with.

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Anonymous asked: I would murder for anything with nerdy dean and popular jock cas. i would murder. not joking. i would.

Author’s note: Please do refrain from murdering someone, seeing as I wrote this purely out of the goodness of my heart, lol! 

“If you keep staring at Novak like that, you will end up getting a restraining order.” Jo remarked in her typical sing-song voice that told Dean that she was mocking him.

“Oh shut up, Jo. It’s not funny!” Dean grumbled, dragging his eyes away from the beautiful boy and throwing his best friend a glare.

“True.” She allowed. “Getting into trouble with the law is hardly what I would call ‘fun’.”

Dean had to hold himself back to not hit her on the head with his notebook. Never mind that she had actually been right, and they both knew it. There was a reason why they were ‘doing homework’ here, sitting on the grass not too far from the field where soccer practice took place. The reason being; Dean had persistently bugged his best and only friend until she had reluctantly agreed to come along, so that Dean could shamelessly watch the miracle that was Castiel Novak. Dean was constantly ogling the other boy, even though they pretended to solve math problems while enjoying the sunny day.

It was pathetic, Dean was aware of that, but this was the closest he’d ever get to Castiel. The Novak family was like royalty in this small town, and their three children, Anna, Gabriel and Castiel, were the most popular students at Lawrence High. Which meant; the exact opposite of Dean.

Dean was the invisible kid. The shy kid who stayed away from the wild parties and other social activities outside of school. The kid who didn’t care about dressing up for school and thus wore old jeans and some random t-shirt with a print on it that others considered ‘geeky’. The kid that wasn’t even bullied, because bullies hardly knew that he existed. It was not an easy position to be in when having a serious infatuation with the rich, handsome, popular captain of the soccer team.

“Look, if you ask me…” Jo began.

“I’m not asking you.” Dean interrupted her right away.

Jo oh-so-maturely poked out her tongue at Dean. “I’m going to give you some free advice anyway, Winchester. Either talk to the guy, or try to let it go. You can’t keep pining like this!”

Talk to the guy? Are you kidding me?” Dean muttered skeptically while still watching Castiel from the corner of his eye. “He doesn’t even know I exist!”

“And that’s never going to change unless you talk to him!” Jo was quick to respond.

“I can’t do that, Jo!” Dean hissed.

“Yes, you can!” She countered. “There’s an important soccer game tomorrow night, and I know that’s not exactly your kind of thing, but Novak is playing and if you attend, maybe he’ll see that you’re showing an interest in what he does. He’ll never notice you if you only keep hiding behind your books or sit at home playing video games!”

Dean scowled at Jo, but when he peeked at Castiel again, a voice in the back of Dean’s head was yelling at him to consider his best friend’s idea.

Castiel was running after the ball, laughing at one of his team mates. The shorts that he was wearing showed off his muscular legs, and his dark hair was messy and a little sweaty from all the running. A ray of sunlight caught Castiel’s eyes when he turned his head at just the right angle, making it seem like the blue was literally sparkling…

This was torture. Sure, Dean liked girls, and Dean liked boys… But he’d never been this painfully attracted to someone until Castiel Novak came along.

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Untitled Fremione

Pairing: Fred/Hermione
Rating: G
Chapters: 1
Word count: 2,724

Setting: Takes place during Goblet of Fire. Actually starts the very moment Fred and George cross the age line to put their names in the Goblet of Fire.


Been a long time since I posted Fremione! This was born of my insomnia at 4am. No beta, so I hope it looks alright. Should I post it on Title suggestions?


They only had a second to savor the feeling of victory before…

Fred and George were thrown back across the floor. Hermione straightened in her seat, craning to see past other students, yet not bothering to get up from her spot. When Fred and George rolled over and sat up, long white beards flowed down from their jaws, the length of which could rival Professor Dumbledore’s. Hermione chuckled to herself and shook her head before reopening her book. She paused however when she heard the dying laughter rise again, even louder than before. Because of the crowd that had gathered, she was forced to stand in order to see. She had no idea what had started the scuffle, but Fred and George were wrestling on the floor. Hermione huffed and made her way over, pushing through the hooting and cheering crowd.

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anonymous asked:

Rowaelin circus AU though. I'm thinking Aelin as one of those really graceful but athletic curtain dancers and she's so popular that she needs a body guard (Rowan) and at first they hate each other but soon come to learn about and respect one another

Big thanks to @itach-i for coming up with the plot line of this fic. Rowaelin is not my forte and I was going to ignore this until she gave me an idea on how this would go.

[Rowaelin - Crash Into Me]

The first thing she thought when she heard the curtain tear was how much it would hurt to hit the stage floor from thirty feet up. The second thing she thought was that she knew exactly who’d tampered with the curtain–Arobynn.

Three weeks ago, Aelin had filed a restraining order against her old, creepy manager. Sure, he’d taught her everything she knew about the circus arts, but the man was a creep. And ever since she’d left him to move to Vegas and take a lead role in a prestigious company, he’d done nothing but harass her.

Aelin could see and hear where the curtain was tearing. It was only a yard above her. If she climbed fast enough–carefully enough–she might be able to grab the fabric above the tear and hold on until someone came to help her.

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Taken For Granted - Part Six


You could feel your face throbbing in pain from where the masked man had slapped you. You looked around your surroundings and from what you could tell, you were in a warehouse of some sorts. The masked man walked back over to you.

He ran his fingers through your hair and cackled. “Hello, beautiful. Let’s have some fun? Shall we?”

You let out a whimper and shook your head, trying to move away from his hand. It wasn’t a smart idea, as it seemed to anger him and he yanked your hair into his fist and pulled you closer.

“Stop moving you stupid bitch.”

That voice.. it was so familiar. Where had you heard it before?

Another yank to your hair pulled you back into reality. “I’m taking off your mouth cover, if you scream, I will make you regret it. Understand?” he said roughly. You nodded your head.

He pulled off the cloth, stroked your cheek and chuckled. “Now that you can speak, why don’t you greet your team?” He pointed back to the camera that was still flashing, indicating that it was recording.

You glared at him before looking away. He growled and grabbed your chin roughly and turned your gaze towards the camera. “I fucking said, greet your team.”

You winced at his hard grip, “Hi.”

He slapped your cheek lightly and laughed. “That’s more like it.”

“What the hell do you want with me? Who the fuck are you?”

Taking a strand of your hair and twirling it around his finger, he said, “What? You don’t remember me? Oh, I’m so hurt Y/N.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and hatred.

“No, frankly I don’t remember you. Your voice is familiar, but how am I supposed to know who you are when your face is covered?” You replied. The man let out a loud groan and ripped his mask off, throwing it roughly to the ground.

“Recognize me now?!” he yelled, getting close to your face.

Looking at his face, your eyes widened. “S-Sam? What the actual fuck?! I thought you finally gave up after I got that restraining order.” you screamed, thrashing in your seat.

Sam slapped you hard, causing your face to turn the other way. The throbbing pain in your cheek increasing. “Sit still you stupid bitch. We wouldn’t want you to get seriously hurt by being stupid now do we?” he sneered.

“I never gave up on you. After you filed that restraining order against me, I was forced to move! I had to go to a whole new school because of you! All I did was love you and you treated me like shit!”

You scoffed, “Love? You stalked me! I hardly got any sleep because of you! I was so scared that you were going to hurt me! I lost all my friends because they thought I was just looking for attention! My parents thought I was being a drama queen! YOU RUINED MY LIFE!”

Sam let out a shout and punched you. The force of his punch sent the chair and you falling to the floor. You let out a small groan of pain and could taste blood in your mouth.

He pulled you up by your hair so that you were slightly dangling and pulled you close to his face. “Haha, ruined? Is that so? That didn’t seem to stop you from opening your legs like a whore to that nerd!”

Your eyes widened. H-he was watching you the whole time? He saw you sleep with Spencer..

He let out a laugh, “Yeah, I know all about that. I’ve been following you for quite some time now. I know everything. Tell me Y/N, did you like having nerd boy’s dick inside you? HUH? You little whore. What’s his name again.. oh right. Spencer.” You could feel his nails digging into your scalp.

“Fuck you.” you spat.

Sam let go of your hair and you dropped back onto the ground. He walked over to the nearby table and grabbed a knife. “Why don’t you tell him to come save you? Tell Romeo to come save his lovely Juliet.” he said, returning to you, making you face the camera again.

“No. If you’re going to harm me or kill me, then fucking do it. He won’t come and if he tries then I won’t let him. I’m not putting my team in harm’s way just to save me. They don’t deserve that. They’ll be fine without me.”

He gave you an evil smile and looked at the camera. “How sweet. Did you guys hear that? What a noble act. How sickening.” he said.

Before you knew it, he plunged the knife into your thigh.


Back in the conference room, the team was in tears. They couldn’t look at the live feed anymore. Sam had pulled out the knife in your thigh and began to slash at your arms and legs, leaving large gashes. The sounds of your screams breaking their hearts.

Morgan held JJ to keep her from breaking down completely, his own eyes filled with tears. Rossi was sitting down and had held his face in his hands.

Hotch’s gaze hardened but tears were also present in his eyes. Spencer was sitting with his hands curled up in fists and could feel tears streaming down his face.

In a matter of a few hours, the strong and brave Y/N that they knew was stripped down into a vulnerable state. Even when you were kidnapped and being tortured, all you had cared about was their safety.

The room was completely silent aside from your screams coming from the live feed and Garcia typing away on her keyboard, trying to track the location of the feed.

“Garcia, please tell me that you’ve found them.” Hotch said.

“I’ve almost got it.” she replied, typing furiously at her keyboard.

After a few minutes, Garcia screamed, “I FOUND THEM! I’m sending you the address to your phones now! Please find our kitten safe and sound. And for the love of God, be safe you guys.”

The team ran out of the conference room, rushing quickly to put on their bulletproof vests and get into the SUVs. The cops from the station following them.

As they piled into the the cars and sped down to the location, Spencer could feel a horrible pit in his stomach. Please let her be safe.. he thought.

A Piece Of Me Pt.7

“Wow.” She sat back on the couch, shock evident on her face. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure,” Owen confirmed, handing the toddler a block to finish his castle. “Should I tell Amelia?”

“What should you tell her?” Meredith asked, putting a cracker in her mouth.

“Well, I can’t tell her nothing!” he mused, wiping his hand, through his hair, from the back of his neck to the top of his head, “I mean, he’s probably at her house right now. He can do whatever he wants to her.”

“That’s exactly why you can’t tell her anything,” she exclaimed, sitting up, “Because he is at her house, Owen. Anything you do could come back to her.”

“I don’t think Ryan is a serial murderer,” he dismissed.

“But he’s a drug addict,” Meredith finished, “And addicts are capable of anything, once influenced. We don’t know if he’s taken the drugs as yet.”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” he said more to himself than to her, “I won’t be able to sleep knowing that guy is in her house with drugs.” He grabbed his car keys and stood up from the couch. “I have to go tell her.”

“Don’t do anything rash, Owen!” Meredith called out as he jogged out her door. Pressing a hand to her heart, Meredith silently prayed that everything would turn out okay.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Amelia sought to confirm for the fifth time, gently resting the back of her hand against his forehead, “You’re clammy.”

“Sweaty,” little Ryan added, only half listening to their conversation.

“I’m fine,” Ryan grinned, kindly pushing her hand away from his face, “I’m just gonna go splash some water on my face. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, go ahead,” she told him, pointing down the hall, “First door on your right.”

“Don’t start eating till I get back,” he teased as he made his way down the corridor. As Amelia was about to take the containers out of the bag and set them out on the kitchen table, someone knocked at the door.

Looking through the peephole, she saw that Owen was on the other side. Sighing, she unlocked the door and opened it. “What brings you here?”

“Choose me,” he said quickly, “Choose me and I’ll never leave you. I’ll never do drugs, I’ll never hurt you. I’ll always be here for you.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Or don’t choose me,” he said, shaking his head, “But don’t choose him either. You deserve better than what he has to offer.”

“You have got to be kidding me, Owen.”

“Where’s Ryan?” he immediately asked, sticking his head over her and into the house.

“What? Why?”

“Amelia, he’s using,” he told her, “I saw him.”

“Owen, stop it,” she huffed, pushing lightly on his chest, “Now you’re just lying.”

“I’m not lying,” he countered, “I can prove it.”

“Everything okay here?” Ryan asked as he neared the front door. His body stiffened when he saw Owen and the two engaged in a stare off.

“It’s in his back pocket,” Owen said, not breaking eye contact with him, “I saw him buy it outside the hospital earlier. Check and see.” Owen could see that the look on Ryan’s face was that of a warning look. It was a ‘watch what you’re saying’ look.

“Go ahead, Amelia,” Ryan consented, lifting his arms outwards to give her access to all his pockets. He glared at Owen as she reached into his back pocket. She checked the other back pocket, his front pockets and then his jacket pockets.

“There’s nothing in there, Owen,” she sighed, “Now can you please…”

“Where’d you put it?” Owen accused the man.

Ryan simply grinned back at him, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That’s when he noticed it. The hooded eyelids and dilated eyes.

“You took them, didn’t you?” he concluded. He looked at Amelia, asking, “Was he pale a few minutes ago? Sweaty?” Her heart started racing in her chest as she realised the words coming out his mouth were consistent with the observations she’d made earlier. Had she been blissfully ignoring his clearly present withdrawal symptoms?

“Check his eyes,” Owen further instructed.

Facing Ryan, she realised that he was not clammy at all, like he had been before.  Grabbing his chin, she brought his face down to her level so she could see his eyes. She inhaled softly as she observed them contract and then dilate abnormally. She could tell that he was, in fact, high, even in this poor lighting. A feeling of dread and regret suddenly filled her entire being as she stared at his bloodshot eyes.

Silently, Amelia walked towards the kitchen and retrieved Ryan from his booster seat, before returning to the front door.

“Mr. Owen!” Ryan squealed, reaching his two year old arms towards him.

“Could you take him for a second?” she asked Owen. Her voice was so calm and blunt that it made chills run down his spine.

“Sure,” he nodded, scooping the child into his arms. Before he could ask why, Amelia closed the door.

As Owen sat on the bench outside with Ryan and played various hand games that they made up, he kept his ear tuned in to what was going on behind the door.

“How many did you take?”

“None, I swear!”

“If I walk into that bathroom and see a baggie in the trash can, so help me God, Ryan Kerrigan.”

“The red head is lying to you.” Owen scoffed at the barbaric term. “He’s making up all these stories because he’s jealous.”

“How many did you take?” Amelia asked in a low, serious tone.

Ryan sighed, knowing he’d been caught and could do nothin about it, “Four. Crushed. But Amelia, I…”

Smack! The noise startled Owen.

“Get out of my house,” she said, cutting him off, “And don’t ever come back here again.”

“Amelia, please,” Ryan begged. The sound of his voice almost made Owen feel sorry for the guy. “I love you and I love my son. I’ll get clean, I promise.” Owen cringed at the statement; there was so much emotion in it that he no longer doubt that Ryan loved her and his son. He did doubt, however, that Ryan would get clean.

“If you try to contact me or show up out of the blue again,” Amelia threatened, “I will file a restraining order against you and you will never see us again.” There was another brief silence before Owen stood up quickly at the sound of the door opening. Coming face-to-face with him, Owen noticed a little, hot red hand print on the right side of his cheek, which closely resembled Amelia’s tiny hand size. She didn’t just slap his cheek; she destroyed it. Owen could already see a bruise forming that would definitely last a week at least. Refraining from smiling, Owen gave him an intimidating look, trying his best to ignore the tears brimming in Ryan’s eyes.

Ryan looked over at the little boy sitting on the bench, playing with his race car, and one tear escaped. He looked back at Amelia, who remained unaffected by his sadness and stood her ground with her arms folded. Surrendering, he moved past Owen and made his way off her property. Both Amelia and Owen kept their eyes on him all the way until he got on his bike and left.

Turning back to Amelia, whose eyes began to water with oncoming tears, Owen announced, “To be honest, I’m relieved that he was still doing the drugs.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

“The guy was perfect otherwise,” he explained, “I was actually worried that I had competition!”

The joke made Amelia laugh and Owen was happy to see her dimples appear on both sides. However, as her laughing subsided, her smile slowly turned into a frown and her bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly, wobbling just like Ryan’s would when he was about to cry. Knowing she was about to do just that, Owen quickly enveloped her in a tight hug as the first few tears began to fall.

“I can’t believe I let him do this to me again. I’m so stupid,” she berated herself. Her arms moved from around herself and made their way around Owen’s torso, holding onto him for dear life. “I thought that…”

“I know,” Owen cooed as he caressed the hair at the back of her head, “You wanted to believe he’d changed this time.”

“You must hate me,” she sniffled, pulling away to look up at him. Owen smiled down at her and used his thumb to wipe away the tears that fell.

“I hate him for hurting you,” he said, giving her a lopsided smile.

“I hurt myself,” she dismissed, “This is my fault.”

Owen held her shoulders. “The only thing you hurt was his cheek when you slapped the shit out of him.” A watery smile appeared. “I’d hate to piss you off like that,” he continued, finally receiving a soft giggle from her. Wrapping his arms around her again, Owen whispered, “You’re gonna be okay.” She nodded her head into his chest.

After a few minutes of his embrace, Amelia muffled, “We have Chinese food inside if you’d like to stay for dinner?’

“Slimy food with Mr. Owen!” Ryan celebrated, lifting his race car in the air.

Owen looked between Amelia and Ryan. “Slimy food with Mr. Owen?”

“Yes please,” she replied. Ryan covered his eyes in embarrassment as she tiptoed to place a kiss on Owen’s cheek.


Bookstores and Bruises

Summary: Tony has to spend some time in a bookstore and you manage to distract him from his moping without even speaking to him.

Warnings: Using books for weapons???? Terribly written banter??

Word count: 1836

A/N: This is my first Tony fic so please be gentle. I hope you like it ^^ On a side note, here’s the link to part 2!

Originally posted by iwantcupcakes

Spending a day in a bookstore wasn’t Tony’s definition of a good time. It was too quiet and boring compared to every other second of his life.

So you can imagine the thrill that went through him when Bruce forced him into one. Luckily, there was a semi-busy coffee shop attached to the store and Tony had his laptop with him. So while Bruce went around hunting down whatever he was looking for, he was able to take a seat and distract himself from how utterly lifeless his surroundings were.

At least, that was the plan. It had worked until he looked up and saw you skimming a finger over a line of book spines. This would have been terribly ordinary had Tony not seen you wandering around half an hour ago; who spends that long in a bookstore?

He thought after a while that you had found what you were looking for and left, but then he saw you again, this time only rounding a corner and pursing your lips at a cover, but he still took notice. You were making him mad, not only because you were still here, but because you were distracting him from his distraction. He had had enough, maybe if he helped you find whatever book you wanted he would get at least a taste of adventure in his day. He could only hope for that much.

“Excuse me, can I help you find something?” Tony came up beside you, leaning against the heavy shelf of books you were currently biting your lip at.

“Huh? Oh, no, thank you. I’m just browsing.” You comment, not even sparing a glance for the billionaire.

“Sweetheart, you were browsing an hour ago, if I didn’t know you I’d say you had a fetish.” That got him a look, albeit confused and maybe even a little offended. One thing he was not prepared for was the (E/C) in your eyes and how they would have consumed him if he were any less of a man.

“Are you confessing to watching me for a whole hour? I could get a restraining order for that, you know.” Your eyes had sharpened considerably and Tony lifted an eyebrow in amusement. You would be a challenge to win over, but he was nothing if not audacious.

“You’d have to do the same for all the guys in here then, you’re quite the eye-catcher.” He gave you a smug grin and topped it off with a wink. You furrowed your brows in mock concern and huffed.

“Do you normally pick up girls in bookstores? Are the speakers in clubs too loud for your hearing aids, old man?” If it weren’t directed at him, Tony would have whistled at how smooth that burn was - like a healthy swig of whiskey - but he was too occupied trying to think of a good comeback.

“More the opposite, plus I’d never find a babe like you at the parties I go to.” Tony frequented two kinds of parties; his own and his client’s. At his, well the girls never wore more than they needed to. He shivered at the so-called parties his associates threw. Those weren’t parties, parties meant alcohol and dancing and music too loud to hear the girl next to you. What they threw were more dinners than anything and they were worse than the book store in more senses than one.

It was a good thing you had grabbed a nice big book before those words left his lips, because immediately after you were sizing it up and bringing it down on the playboy’s head. Not enough to injure, just enough to shoo him away if he had any brains. Sadly, it appeared he didn’t.

“Ouch! What was that for?” He asked incredulously, rubbing a hand over his scalp.

“Being a douche. Why won’t you leave me alone?” You asked after putting the novel back and sending it a thankful gaze; like it just saved your life.

“Look, I just wanna help you find whatever book you’ve been searching for for ages.”

“I haven’t been looking for a book.” You frowned and crossed your arms and Tony thought that he definitely should not be feeling so attracted to a girl who just whacked him with a book. It was too late now though, he was waist-deep in interest and there was no going back when Tony was interested.

“Then why the hell have you been wasting so much time here? Don’t you have anything better to do than wander around this cemetery?” He asked incredulously. He saw you reaching for the book again and flinched back, putting up his hands in surrender and woahing you like a horse going too fast.

Because I can,” You eyed him suspiciously, as if not liking bookstores made him a villain or something.

“If you don’t like bookstores then why are you here?” It seemed you two had started a staring contest, both trying to glare the other into an alternate dimension.

“I was forced, actually.” He responded, now curious as to where Bruce had gone.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re definitely looking peer pressured over there, Mr. Fahrenheit.” You quipped and took a couple steps towards an appealing row of books. Evidently, you had given up trying to pop Tony out of existence. He took it as a sign that you were warming up to him.

“Are you calling me hot?” He smirked and trailed after you almost desperately.

“No I’m calling you irrational and confusing.”

“But confusing in a good way, right?” He said hopefully, though it was clear he already thought the answer was yes.

“Sure.” You scoffed. You couldn’t help but cough up a small laugh though, and if you were looking at Tony you would have seen his dark brown eyes lighting up.

“So this book you’re not looking for, what’s it about?” He asked, stepping closer and examining the golden symbols on a cover you had recently traced across.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t still be here.” You tossed the book back on the shelf and sunk to the bottom rows.

“And do you usually take this long to decide?”

“Depends.” Your answer was breathy, like the task at hand was gruelling but enjoyable at the same time - because it was. For you at least.

“Why?” Tony really didn’t understand, who puts this much thought in a pastime? He didn’t consider anything in his life for this long, except when it came to his suits. He couldn’t imagine how tiring it would be to spend hours on one problem.

“Because the second I pick up whatever book I chose, it’s not just my life anymore. I’m signing a contract with someone completely different, seeing through their eyes and listening through their ears. I’m absorbing them and becoming them for as long as that book’s in my hands, and sometimes even afterwards.”

“Never thought about it like that.”

“Clearly. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear you’d never read a book in your life.”

“Hey now, that’s not fair. You don’t even know who I am.” Which he found both surprising and freeing, because now he could just be Tony and not Mr. Stark, billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropist. Well, regular Tony was still a playboy, but that couldn’t be helped. He kinda liked playing the moron for once, and the surprise on your face when he proved he actually was a genius, well that would be priceless.

“What makes you think that knowing your name will change who you are as a person?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.” You shook your head with a sigh and weaved through a couple people on your way to another section, Tony once again following at your heels.

“Speaking of names, yours would be?”

“(Y/N). Am I going to learn yours at some point?” He considered for a moment, except he wanted the mystery to simmer a little longer. He liked seeing the sassy confident side of you and he was concerned that after you learned who he was it would be like flipping a switch. You’d be afraid to speak your mind or insult him so effortlessly, so he kept his secret just that - a secret.

“I’ll think about it, (Y/N).” He gave you a cheeky smirk and turned to the opposite book shelf, skimming the titles until he found one he recognized. The dynamic had shifted, there was more ease between you now, as opposed to the minimally hostile tension from before.

“Great.” You muttered, trying to switch your attention back to the endless rows of paper in front of you and not how nice he made your name sound. For a few minutes there was actual silence, comfortable and familiar and somehow friendly. Like you and Tony had known each other for years and wanted nothing more than to be around the other.

“So, if you still haven’t found something,” Tony broke the silence and you twisted around, coming face to face with him. He was a lot closer than you thought he would be, but oddly you didn’t care that this almost-stranger was only a couple inches away from you. He didn’t seem to notice how close you were as he raised a book to his chin and accomplished a boyish grin to top all boyish grins. He looked like a total dork, but wow. “This one’s really good.”

And you smiled at him, the kind of smile that sliced right through his ARC reactor and sent his stomach to flipping. Tony hoped that you weren’t close enough to hear him swallowing, because thet’s all he could do when you looked at him like that. Like you were so proud of him, even though all he had done was show you a book. He had to admit it was a good change from aggravated and counting the seconds until he left.

“Maybe I’ll give it a try.” You plucked the book right out of his hands, planted a sweet kiss on his cheek, and walked off. Leaving Tony to stand exactly where you left him, completely in awe of everything you were. He still felt your lips against his cheek and your fingers skimming his when you pulled the book free. He wanted to feel it again, but he knew he would look desperate if he ran up to you again. He could wait, he would have to wait.

“Tony, there you are. What’re you doing?” Bruce’s voice inturrupted him, pulling his gaze from your completely content walk towards the till.

“Waiting.” Tony breathed, being pulled out of the store by his lab partner. Just before the door closed, he heard you laughing again. He smiled, hoping he would get to hear it again.

You had opened the book to find Tony’s number and laughed. Beside the name Tony Stark in dark blue ink read 'I’m willing to look past the bruise on my head, but only if you see me again. Also, I’ve never read this book before, so good luck.’



Word Count: 1910

Summary: You have to tell Dean about you daughter. He spends a night watching her while you take care of some business. Then spends the night and next day with the two of you.

You and Dean had been set up by a mutual friend. You had been dating for two months, but you hadn’t told him about your daughter Sam. Usually she stayed with your parents when Dean came in town, but this weekend they decided to go out of town. And Dean decided to surprise you with a visit.

Dean! What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until next week. You said when you answered the door.

I thought I would surprise you. He said walking into your apartment.

I’m defiantly surprised.

Dean, we need to talk. You said sitting on the couch wrapped in his arms.

What’s up? Baby. He asked.

I need to tell you something.


Before you could start, your phone rang.

What?! you yelled into the phone. No, he’s not supposed to be anywhere near her. Call the police. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

You hung up. Then dialed another number.

Yes, can I please talk to Mrs. Brooks? Thank You.

Dean just sat on the couch watching and listening.

Mrs. Brooks, it’s (Y/N). Please tell me why I wasn’t notified that Jeremy was being released from prison.

Well, he is and he’s at Sam’s daycare trying to see her. How does he even know about her? That was supposed to be sealed. I told the director to call the police and I’m headed over there now.

(Y/N), what going on?

Dean, I was fixing to tell you some of this any way. The short version is I was raped, got pregnant, the bastard went to prison, and he just got released, and is now at my daughter’s daycare trying to see her. I don’t know how he found out about her. The fact that I was pregnant was left out of the trial.

You were in tears by the time you finished.

(Y/N), I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. He said pulling you close to his chest. What’s her name and how old is she?

Her name is Samantha and she’s five.

Dean drives you to the daycare seeing as you’re not in any condition to drive yourself. When you arrive at the daycare you ask him to stay at the car. The police are standing between Jeremy and the door.

She’s my daughter. I have every right to see her. He yelled at the officers.

Sir, you need to calm down. One of the officers told him.

Jeremy turns and sees you coming up the walkway.

You BITCH! He yelled. How dare you not tell me I have a daughter?

You walk pass him and hand papers to one of the officers.

Well, sir it looks like you’re in violation of your parole. You’re under arrest.

What? How did I violate my parole?

According to these papers, you’re not to be within 1,000 feet of said child.

You got a restraining order against me. He yelled.

The judge put the restraining order against you for the safety of my child.

Ma’am, you’ll have to come downtown to file the charges. One of the officers said while the other put Jeremy in the back of the squad car.

Ok. Just let me check on my daughter first.

Mommy! She yelled running into your arms.

You wrapped her in a tight hug and kissed her forehead.

Who was that man?

That’s the man mommy told you about.

The one that was mean to you. So God gave me to you so you wouldn’t be sad.

Yes, Baby.

Oh…ok. Can we go home? She asked.

I have to go downtown and talk to the police about that man.


Sam, you see that man? You asked pointing to Dean.


Well, his friend of mommy’s and I want you to go with him. OK.

Is he a nice man? She asked looking at Dean.

He’s a very nice man. You told her.

Ok, mommy. I’ll go with him.

You took her hand and led her over to Dean.

Sam I would like you to meet Dean.

Dean this is my daughter Sam.

Nice to meet you Sam. He said holding out his hand which she took.

Nice to meet you too. She smiled.

You told Dean to take her to get some ice cream before going home.

You were at the police precinct until late that night. When you returned home you found toys all over the floor and the end of Frozen playing on the TV. You look at the couch to find Dean and Sam asleep. She was laying on his chest with his arm over her. You had to stifle a laugh when you picked his arm up off of her and saw his nails painted rainbow of colors. You slowly place his arm at his side and began to pick your daughter up. But she grabbed a hold of his shirt and wouldn’t let go. The feeling of her moving caused Dean to put his arm back over her. You removed his arm once more and was able to pick her up.

Mommy? She yawned.

Yes, baby.

I had fun tonight.

I’m glad you had fun. You said getting a rag out of the hall closest.

Do I have to take a bath? She asked.

No, I just want to wash your face and put your pjs on before I put you in bed.


You were wiping her face off when she gasped.

What’s wrong?

I got to PEEE.

Ok. You chuckled. I’ll go get your pjs.

You got her clothes changed and tucked her into bed.

Momma, can Dean come over to play again? She asked sleepily.

Sure, if he wants to.


She didn’t even finish before she fell asleep.

You went to the kitchen, poured a glass of whiskey, and went about straighten up some of the toys on the floor.  You sat down in the chair opposite the couch and watched Dean while he slept. He woke up with a jolt when he put his arm on his chest and didn’t feel Sam laying there.


You got up, sat next to him, placed a hand on his cheek, and told him that she was in her bed.

(Y/N), you don’t know how much that just scared me. He said.

Oh, I know what it’s like to fall asleep with her next to me then wake up and she’s gone. You said handing him the half empty glass of whiskey. But I always find her in her room playing.

He turned up the glass and finished it off.

Thanks. He said handing the glass back to you.

I see she gave you a manicure. You said gesturing to his hand.

Yeah, she said I had to look good for the tea party.

Well, I think it brings out your eyes. You grinned.

He just grinned back.

If you want I can get the polish remover and take it off for you.

Naw, I think I’ll keep it for a while. He said standing up and stretching his arms over his head before picking up his jacket. I should go.

Stay. You said grabbing his arm.

Are you sure? He asked.

Yes. Only if you want to that is.

I would like that a lot. He said putting his jacket back down.

You sit the empty glass on the table, stand up, and wrap your arms around his waist before kissing him.

You wake up the next morning in his arms.

Mornin’ beautiful. He whispered in your ear.

Mornin’. You said rolling over to kiss him.

I should leave before Sam gets up. He said.

No, you should stay. You said cuddling closer to him. You k now she asked me last night if you could come over and play again.

She did. He said sounding surprised.

Yes, she really enjoyed the time the two of you spent together last night. Plus it 8 a.m.  She’s probably already up and playing in her room.

You no sooner said that and she was standing at the door.

Can I come in? She asked

Of course you can come in. you laughed

She climbed up onto the bed, crawled between you and Dean, first giving you a kiss on cheek, and then turning to kiss Dean on the cheek. This took Dean by surprise.

Did you stay all night? She asked Dean.

I did. He answered. Is that ok?

It’s ok with me. She smiled.

Mommy, can we have pancakes? She asked turning to you.

Sure. What kind of pancakes do you want?

She thought for a minute.

It doesn’t matter.

I know that look Sam. What kind do you want?

Can we have Birthday pancakes?

Sure we can.


What are Birthday pancakes? Dean asked after she left the room.

You’ll see.

Ok. Sam. The first pancake is up.

She came running into the kitchen, climbed up on the step stool in front of the counter, and began to decorate the pancake.

First: she squeezed a cream cheese icing across the top.

Second: she used whipped cream to put two eyes and a smiling face on top.


Lastly: she shook rainbow sprinkles all over it.

She climbs off the stool and you hand her the plate.

You turned when you heard her say.

Here Dean. Try it. I made it special for you. Extra sprinkles. She said putting the plate in front of Dean.

WOW! This is great. He said making her smile.

I’ll make you another one. She said running back to the kitchen.

Be careful Sam. The stove is still hot. You called after her.

Ok. She called back.

You sat a cup of coffee in front of Dean before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek.

She must really like you. You whispered in his ear.

Why do you say that? He asked pulling you onto his lap.

She gave you the first Birthday pancake. She doesn’t even let me have the first Birthday pancake.

So you’re saying I’m special. He grinned.

Yes. You’re very special. You said patting his head.


But I love you. You said placing your forehead on his.

I love you too. He said giving you a quick peck on the lips.

You look up and see Sam carefully carrying two plates.

Do you want some help?

No, I got it. She answered placing a plate in front of you and Dean. Then one front of her seat.

You and mommy can share that one. She said pointing at the plate she sat in front of you and Dean.

Dean was enjoying feeding you too much to even think about eating.

You sat on the couch and watched as Dean played house, tea party, baby dolls, and whatever else Sam wanted to play. You were just happy that Dean knew the truth and didn’t run. You were also happy that Sam liked Dean.

Dean, are you staying again tonight? She asked.

Only if your mommy wants me to. He said getting up, sitting on the couch next to you, and wrapping an arm around you.

I would like that. You smiled laying your head on his chest. Is that ok with you Sam?

Yes! I don’t want Dean to ever leave. She said climbing onto his lap and placing her head next to yours.

I’ll stay as long as you both want me to. He said hugging you both close.

Imaginary Boyfriend - Chapter 4

¤ Kim Namjoon (Rap Monster)

Words: 806

C1 C2 C3 C4 C5

Masterlist: [X]

Originally posted by happyemofreak

“Look at me!”

You moved your hands down from your face, facing away from him.

“I said look at me.” He said, but in a friendlier tone.

You turned your face to look at him. He was close, inches away from your face.

“Make this easy for me.” He begged.

“Let me kiss you or push me away.” He said, leaning closer.

He waited a few seconds before he came even closer.

You weren’t going to push him away.

Not anymore.

He leaned in and you closed your eyes as you felt his lips touch yours.

With slow and gentle movements he kissed me, before he let all the suppressed feelings, lust and want out, kissing me hard against the wall. He didn’t let go of me, holding my shoulders pressed against the wall hard.

He kept going, you were kissing him back but he clearly had dominance over you. He began to smile between the kisses. He pulled away from your lips and placed his lips by your ear.

“Never call me friend again.” He whispered.

He moved his lips to your other ear.

“You’re mine, baby.” He whispered, making you blush.

He moved his head again so his face was in front of yours.

He brushed his lips against yours.

“What will you call me?” He asked

“My everything.” I said, making him smile.

“And more?”

“My man.” I said, grabbing a hold of his collar and pulling him in to another kiss.

Namjoon felt as if 200kg had been lifted off his shoulders.


“If you knew how long I’ve wanted to hear those words from you.” He said.

“I’m going to change your name in my phone!” you giggled, grabbing your phone off the coffee table.

“Oh, by the way Mr. To-on-to-my-girl called earlier while you were asleep… I told him to fuck off and blocked his number on your phone.” Namjoon said

“I heard you talk to somebody earlier…” You smiled.

“Thank you.”

“How about we head to your place?” Namjoon asked.

“Sure!” You smiled, you wanted to go home and take a shower and put on fresh clothes.

Namjoon drove the two of you to your apartment.

You walked up the stairs hand in hand.

But outside your apartment was a little surprise waiting for you.


“What are you doing here!? I told you to leave her alone!” Namjoon yelled.

“She wouldn’t answer her phone! I was worried.” He said.

“Yes because I blocked your number on it.”

“What the hell gives you the right to do that?” He yelled.

“Every right in the world, I’m her boyfriend and I don’t want some maniac stalking my girl!” Namjoon yelled.

“Maybe we should just go inside…” You suggested

“Yah!” He yelled, grabbing Namjoon by the shirt.

“Who the hell are you calling Maniac you bastard!?” He yelled.

Namjoon pushed him away so he would let go of his shirt, he managed to do so but as a counter attack he got slapped across the face.

You gasped.

“What the hell is your problem!?” You yelled.

“I’m calling the police!” You threatened, reaching into your pocket for your phone.

Namjoon tried to hold him still but he wouldn’t stop trying to swing punches at him.

He hit Namjoon in the jaw, causing Namjoon to trip backwards.

Namjoon had tried not to act of violence but it seemed like he had no choice. He swung his arm hard towards the stranger, punching him hard under the jaw, making him fall to the ground.

Namjoon climbed over him and grabbed his arms and pulled them behind his back. He desperately tried to get out of his grip but failed. Shortly after the police arrived and took him away.

The police told you they would help you apply for a restraining order on him before they left. .

­­ “Ouch!” Namjoon squealed as you put an ice pack against his jaw.

“I’m sorry, sorry that you got punched because of me…”

“Don’t be.” He said, grabbing the ice pack from you.

“You have every right in the world to be angry at me…”

“Stop it, I’m not mad at you!” He said.


“Babe. Don’t.” He said, placing a finger under my chin.


He just gave me a look with raised eyebrows.

“One more time and I’ll make you stop with my lips!” He joked.

“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” You laughed.

He put the ice pack down and leaned forward to kiss you.

“Don’t. Be. Sorry.” He said between the kisses.

“Sorry not sorry.” You joked, receiving another kiss.

“The fact that I finally can place my lips on yours… it’s like a dream” He smiled.

“I wanna move away from here.” You suddenly said.

“Out of this apartment, I don’t like it here anymore.” You sighed.

“How about we move in together?” Namjoon suggested.