beam down

Humans are weird: Songs everyone know.

Kun’aquk is new to this whole ‘bringing humans out into space’ thing, but he feels like he know what he’s doing. He’s read the guides, and has gotten help from other companions aboard the small (in his mind, not in the humans. Apparently, they don’t have ships as big as the average Galopertaions) ship, only containing a quonton full of alien species. 

Kun’aquk feels he knows what to expect, and how to deal with certain situations, like if a human goes missing or brings back a non-toxic Avregation as a ‘pet’. So, he braces himself, and heads down to the work station of the group of humans, referred to as the specialists. 

He rounds the corner and faces the gravitational steel door, waiting for entry. Nothing happens. He presses one of his talons against the communication button and speaks through it in a gargled voice.

“This is Kun’aquk of Sector 318. I am hear for an observation course.” He clicks off and waits for entry again. This time the gravitational door opens and he steps through. 

He is approached by a young human, and going by his observations, it is a female. 

“Hey sorry man, couldn’t hear ya. Jackson over there was playing his music too loud. I’m Gabbie.” She sticks out her appendage and bares her teeth. At first, Kun’aquk feels threatened, and almost raises the gland beneath his digestive sack to show dominance, but remembers this is the humans way of being “friendly”. He looks down and the pale appendage and looks back up at her face questioningly. “Oh, sorry. I’m Gabbie of Sector 561, Terra.” She lets her appendage drop, but continues to bare her teeth in a “smile”. “Take a seat where ever you need to. Please refrain from staring, I know that is something you species likes to do, but with the gooey sack in the front of your head, and the four eyes, it kinda creeps us out. No offense.” Kun’aquk’s ear tufts turn a shade of pink, for confusion, but he remains silent. “Uhh, hmm. Jackson likes to play his music, I like to knit in my free time. Sam over there likes reading, so you’ll find him doing that, and Sara, the one up on the supportive beams, likes to sculpt things out of spare parts. Today is our day off, so not much is going to be happening, if you don’t mind. Annndd.., that should be all. I think. If you have a question, feel free to say it out loud, it’s not rude.” Kun’aquk nods, and his eyes follow Gabbie back to her seat before he takes out his tablet and clicks a few buttons, taking notes down. 

It’s been a bit of time, an hour, as humans would call it. The room has a calm atmosphere, filled with music from Jackson, and clicks and clinks of metal from Sara as she sculpts. No one is talking, and everyone is minding their own business, when the song changed on the radio. It’s lyrics begin to fill the air.

“Young man. 

There’s no need to feel down. 

I said, young man, pick yourself off the ground.” 

“Is that YMCA?” Sara questions from the beams. Sam puts down his book.

“Yeah I think so.” Kun’aquk put’s down in his notes, “Are familiar to certain musical tunes.” 

Gabbie turns to Jackson. “Dude, turn it up!”

“You can. Stay there! And I’m sure you’ll find many ways to have. A. Good. Time.” 

“Shush it’s coming up!” Sam whispered while standing up with the rest of the group.

“It’s fun to stay at the Y,” The group of humans throw up their arms to form a ‘Y’. “MCA!” Everyone continues to move their body to match the letters being spoken in the song. Kun’aquk looks around in confusion. To humans regularly move their bodies to certain songs? The song ends, and the humans turn back to their activities, like nothing happened.

Kun’aquk turns to his tablet and writes in his notes.

“Humans recognize certain sounds produced by any creature. Do not make any recognizable sounds, as the humans will move their bodies as a way of intimidation.”

Inspired by today’s eclipse and for @sterekwritingroom‘s flash event.

–––––––

The first group of weres pass through Beacon Hills on a Thursday. Stiles probably wouldn’t notice except that he’s spent the past year and a half hanging out almost exclusively with supernatural beings and that… well, ok, these guys aren’t exactly subtle. They tilt their heads almost in sync as he passes by them –– heading in to pay cash at the gas station while they pile back into their packed SUV. Noses flare, stances shift, and Stiles has about point five seconds to plan a bolt back to the Jeep before one of them’s announcing “Don’t trouble your Alpha; we’re just passing north for the event.” And then they’re back in the SUV and gone.

So… yeah, not to diminish Stiles’ awesome deductive skills here but… not subtle.

The second sighting happens before school on Friday, when Stiles ducks into the Dunkin’ Donuts for some much needed coffee and practically trips over a trio of sugar-high toddlers. One of them, wearing what looks like a home-painted t-shirt, decorated with a slightly uneven yellow circle, is midway through whining “Momma, we’re gonna miss the––“ when she stops in her tracks to stare up at him.

Stiles blinks down at her, the door perched against his elbow.

“Say ‘scuse me,” the boy next to her murmurs. It’s too early for this, brain crawling the sludge-slow of non-coffee through his system, and Stiles isn’t sure which of them he’s talking to.

“Excuse me,” he says and all three immediately shuffle, staring wide enough it makes Stiles’ eyes ache for them. He starts past, scrubbing a hand across his jaw self-consciously, wondering if he’d missed sleep drool or a sock in his hair or something on his mad rush out the door but, two steps past, the youngest kid snuffles and speaks up, soft: “Are you gonna come see the moon with us?”

It takes another step for Stiles to register that she’s talking to him, but by the time he blinks back the boy’s already tutting at her.

“No Lucy. He’ll go with his own pack.”

The little girl’s mouth opens in a wide, understanding O, while her older sister tugs proudly on her yellow circle shirt. It’s painted a messy black in the middle, inside the bright golden edge, and Stiles kind of forgets coffee for a minute in the face of actual werewolf children and then there’s a woman stepping up behind them, coffee and a box of munchkins in hand, dropping a fond hand to ruffle the boy’s hair as she gives Stiles an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that, they’ve never been through another pack’s territory before. We’ve been driving since Arizona –– long trip for the little ones. But I couldn’t miss the chance for them to experience this. Best sighting until totality in 2017!”

“I’ll be ten,” says the boy, in the tone of one who’s done the math very carefully a dozen times over.

Stiles nods, a little lost because werewolf toddlers, and manages “well that’s… good.”

“I’m two,” the youngest puts in proudly, vaguely missing the thread of the conversation but eager to take part, and Stiles smiles back, wishing he had a little more coffee in his system because it’s not like he’s oblivious about what’s going on in the world this weekend, but he’s starting to feel a little dense for not connecting all kinds of dots sooner.

Then again, there’s another person who probably could’ve connected them for him.

“They don’t know how lucky they are,” the woman adds, beaming down. “I had to wait years for my first one and I’ll never forget the experience. Of course, you won’t feel it the same way as us,” her tone going apologetic, “but I’m sure your pack can’t wait to take part.”

And then she’s ushering the kids out the door with promises of donuts in the car, and Stiles is tugging out his phone, pulling up Derek Hale’s number.

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A Secret | SICHENG

so you’ve chosen a secret for your seven minutes in heaven? collab with @versigny and co, choose another path here

Genre: frat/college!au | fluff | mild angst sexual themes

Member: Sicheng / Reader

Word Count: 10,400+

Warnings: language, references and usage of drugs and alcohol, sexual themes

Originally posted by taeflower

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— lit me up | (m)

pairing— kim namjoon x reader, author! namjoon
genre/warnings— smut, slight angst, romance
words— 9,222

:: summary— you find yourself becoming captivated by a mysterious, handsome author, but you may have bitten off more than you can chew…

note— extracts taken from the bts highlight reels, found here and the serendipity lyrics, found here. Inspired by the song found here.

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When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

I Don't Wanna Live Forever [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever
Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Requested: no
Summary: Your family takes an annual trip to the mountains with the Murphy family every year to unwind over the winter break–that being said, Connor Murphy isn’t the sweet kid he used to be, and you’d rather be anywhere else than sharing a room with him for two weeks. However, between your parents, a line of accidents, and a mapless trip in the woods seem determined to bring you together–if you can make it out alive.
Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | Mentions of drugs, abuse, alcohol, panic attacks, sex trafficking, sex, blood, hospitals | First person reader | face paced/vignette style | not proof read | tenses may change
A/N: Here’s that long ass thing I’ve been working on for weeks and just finished a few minutes ago, ayy. Based entirely off the “Connor hated skiing” line. This is long af with no read more option, sorry :/ Here we go! (THANKS FOR 500+ FOLLOWERS ♡♡♡)


Connor Murphy was a lot of things.

He was stubborn–I’d never seen him admit he was wrong, but I’d definitely seen him throw scrabble pieces across the wooden floor of the cabin, leaving Zoe to scramble red-faced to collect them as he stomped up the oak steps to his room, echoing around the house.

He was annoying–I’d told him once I wasn’t crazy about Iron Maiden, which resulted in the album being on blast for the entirety of the time he drove Zoe and I around the mall in the family’s silver minivan.

He was stoic. He was impatient. He was angry.

I’d begged my parents not to go cabins for winter break. I’d begged them to pick a different mountain range if we were so dead set on skiing. But Mr. Murphy and my mother were business associates, and the last thing she wanted to do was make them feel like we were no longer on good terms–especially because of Connor.

“Larry’s been having an awfully hard time with Connor, sweetheart, you have to understand,” my mother crooned in our rental car, fixing her lip liner as she drove, my father keeping a white knuckled grip on the Jesus handle above his head. “He’s not doing very well in school and he’s been throwing tantrums at home. Poor Cynthia is at her wits end. They’re lucky to have that sweet Zoe, she’s so talented and smart. Poor Connor is jealous and acting out, just try not to rally him up, alright, dear?”

I didn’t dignify her with a response, mostly because I knew she wouldn’t like what I had to say anyway, but also because I knew she wouldn’t care to listen, either. I sighed loudly, watching the snow flurry softly outside the window. It wasn’t fair–here I was in the middle of something so remarkably beautiful, and I’d be shoved in a minivan with the Murphy kids and stuck in the valley town’s 1970s mall with crappy t-shirts and a vape store that Connor would spend all day in.

The cabin was huge, up with a view of the town below, nearly three stories made of solid, stripped oak, in the middle of a winding road with a four percent grade. Half the cabin was supported on beams which plummeted down the mountain face. I’d be lucky to stand on the deck without vomiting, let alone being able to venture into the hot tub.

The Murphy’s minivan was already in the drive, trunk shut, meaning they’d unpacked and I’d be left with whatever miniscule space they’d left for me in the loft area.

“Remember to be nice, sweetheart,” my mother crooned again, fluffing her hair in the mirror and giving me an enthusiastic smile in the rearview. “It’s important! They’re practically family.”

Geez, I was lucky to not have Connor Murphy for a cousin.

Slinging my backpack over my arm and exiting the rental car, I took the liberty to stretch, despite the cold air that stung my cheeks and the snow that fluttered down into my hair. This may very well be the last moment of solitude I had for the entirety of the week, and I was going to revel in it.

A movement caught my eye, suddenly, and I lowered myself off my tiptoes to glance up at the second story window–a curtain fluttered shut. It was most likely Zoe or Connor checking out the commotion that was my father and mother bickering over who carried what into the house, and shutting it once they’d realized I caught them. Feeling vaguely uneasy, I turned just as Larry Murphy, bundled in a parka, burst out of the house to take two suitcases from my father.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

——

Cynthia Murphy made me stand by the kitchen counter as she was stocking the cabinet with neon colored cardboard boxes containing various sugary, pink cereals with marshmallows and prizes inside. The Murphy kids were both picky eaters, I remembered quickly, Connor more so than Zoe.

Mrs. Murphy kept playing with my hair, crowing about how much longer it looked (despite the fact I’d cut it since the last time I’d seen her) and how pretty and grown up I’d become, asking me the usually annoying adult questions (“Any thoughts on schools yet? Oh, Connor can’t decide either! Do you know what you’re going to major in? That’s alright, you’ll figure it out soon!”) It would’ve been annoying, I decided, if and only if she didn’t look so sad all the time, the purple bruising under her eyes visible still underneath the layers of makeup. My mother could say whatever she liked about Cynthia Murphy where her wifely duties were concerned–Mrs. Murphy tried to be a good mother (re: tried, period), and that was more than enough to pass her in my book.

In the background, my parents were settling into the second master bedroom, Larry Murphy yelling at the bottom of the stairs to announce our arrival. I could do without the annual reunion, awkward questions about school. The Murphy kids were tolerable–Zoe definitely more so–but it didn’t mean they had to force us together so artificially.

Zoe skimpered down the stairs first, her soft moccasin boots barely making any sound on the stairs–I was surprised to find her long legs bare, her thighs peeking out beneath a pretty pink chiffon dress, covered by what I hoped to be a faux fur parka. Her pretty auburn hair was curled, pulled back with a polka dot headband I could recognize from her childhood. She was wearing eyeliner, and cotton candy flavored lip gloss I remembered sharing when we were thirteen.

It was such a stark contrast from how I remembered her before. The last I’d seen her she’d been gawky and fifteen with a mouth full of metal and a bra full of kleenex. She was practically grown now, and beautiful–it made me feel slightly subpar in my own blue jeans and blue sweater. Regardless, she smiled brightly and skipped over to me, opening her arms to wrap them around my neck.

“It’s so good to see you!” She exclaimed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek that shocked me, as well as some others–Larry Murphy’s horrified expression was priceless, and I was convinced Connor put her up to it–but I just laughed and hugged her tightly before letting her go.

“You look so pretty,” I told her with a wry grin, and she just tossed the expression back, nodding with a, “So do you!”

“It’s so good to see you girls are still so close,” my mother tittered, beginning to uncork a glass of wine–we didn’t drink much at my house, but the Murphy’s, I knew, did, and my mother certainly wasn’t going to let that go to waste. “Where’s that sweet boy of yours?”

Larry Murphy at the bottom of the stairs, banging on the oak walls, yelling out, “Connor!” was enough to make both the Murphy women flinch visibly. Zoe still had her arm around my waist as we stared up at the ceiling above us, waiting for the squeak of sneakers on the polished wood.

“Don’t yell.”

Zoe jumped away from me as if she’d been burned, pressing herself against the countertop as if to make herself invisible. Mrs. Murphy, her hand clutched to her chest after the initial nose, fought hard to smile believably. I, myself, had jumped at the unexpected sound–Connor Murphy’s curt tenor clear across the room, no where near the stairs, instead standing the doorway were we had just come from. I couldn't  quite make out his frame from here–there was a line of bodies blocking my view, my parents, Mrs. Murphy, and Zoe all formed a human barrier that constructed the divide between Connor and I. Fine by me.

“There you are!” Mrs. Murphy chirped, clearly still nervous, visibly by her shaking voice and hands, fluffing her hair to give her something to do. “You didn’t miss much, Connor, they’ve just arrived.”

My mother said something unintelligent in way of greeting, to which Conner didn’t reply, just shut the door carefully behind him to keep out the cold air. I couldn’t see his face from here, but I could make out that he was much too still for a teenage boy, much too quiet.

“–You remember her, don’t you, Connor?”

My throat closed up as the Red Sea parted, everyone’s heads turning to look between the two of us.

He didn’t move from the doormat–boots  caked in snow, as if he’d gone for a walk, and the bottoms of his skinny jeans were muddy and slick looking. Still, he didn’t shiver, which was slightly unnerving. He was skinnier than I remembered, like he hadn’t been eating, and his face was all angles. He slouched, his pink mouth which was mottled red from the cold was set in a heavy frown. His eyes, which were scanning somewhere around my waist and hadn’t come anywhere near making eye contact since he’d seen me, had blown pupils. Drugs. He was doing drugs in the middle of the afternoon.

He hadn’t cut his hair since I’d seen him last, brown curls poking out of the bottom of a black sock toboggan with a soft pompom on top. It could’ve been funny, I supposed, his rough puberty finishing to leave him left over with this, something akin to a drugged out vogue model who listened to way too much 2008 Fall Out Boy, if he didn’t seem so…unnervingly somber for someone who clearly wasn’t sober. Geez, this kid was a school shooter in the making.

I glanced back up to find him finally staring at my face, shooting an uncomfortable alertness down my spine. His eyebrows were crooked in vague amusement that didn’t seem to reach his mouth, and I felt my face heat up under his scrutiny. If he was trying to intimidate me, it wouldn’t work. I wasn’t scared of boys like him.

“Yeah, I remember her,” he grinned mirthlessly, stuffing his hands into the gut pocket of his hoodie, giving me a nod that, while meant to appease our parents, also felt like a vague threat. I didn’t smile back.

“Great! Wanna show her the room?”

Connor grinned crookedly. “Follow me, kid.”

——

The upstairs layout was just like I remembered  it–Two rooms, one main one in the first entrance with a king bed tucked in the corner, a TV and a few gaming systems with some furniture in the front, a bathroom with two doors which lead through to the other room, which held the fold out couch and television I was accustomed to using.

The Murphy kids already had their belongs strewn about the room–Zoe’s stuff animals and princess blankets eclipsing most of the bed and an ancient Nintendo DS on the table with SpongeBob stickers on the cover that I’m sure belonged to Connor–and it left me very little room to maneuver through.

Connor was silent as he lead me up, as if I didn’t know the way, but surprised me by stopping in front of the king bed, holding out his arms to signal me.

“Your room, my lady.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “This–this is your bed.”

“Not this year. Dad’s decided it’s a little too Flowers In the Attic for Zoe and I to share a bed this year–I’m on the pull out and you girls get to have your fun.” He shot me a bitter smile to let me know he wasn’t thrilled about having the pull-out–he shouldn’t be, the thing was total garbage–but surely he’d enjoy the privacy of it?

“I don’t care to take the pull-out,” I told him, keeping my bag on my shoulder despite the fact it was beginning to be painfully heavy. “If you wanna–”

“Don’t have a choice,” he said, already turning toward the bathroom to walk to his half of the loft. “The bed’s yours.”

——

So, Connor Murphy had turned out to be a total dick. It should’ve unsurprising information, I knew, but part of me still remembered him as a charismatic kid I was, at one point, friends with. Back when the three of us all slept in the king bed, before any of us ever had a zit, when we’d fall asleep in the floor watching early 1990s Pokémon episodes, because Larry Murphy didn’t like them watching it.

Even the Connor I remembered at fourteen, gangly and silent and shy with close-cropped hair felt better than this. I was past uncomfortable, sitting stiffly between he and Zoe on one of the couches in the living room. There was a faux fur blanket hanging behind us, shedding hairs onto Connor’s black jacket, which would’ve been funny if he wasn’t picking at his nails with a slightly rusted pocket knife–I notice he’d painted them, which I oddly admired. I’d kissed a boy earlier this year who painted his nails, and his palms were always soft when he’d reach up to cup my cheeks. It softened Connor in my head, just slightly.

He was careful, I saw, to stay on his side of the couch, leaning into the apex of the arm and the back of the couch rather  than flush with me, his thin legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle to avoid me. I appreciated it, but it didn’t stop me from leaning forward, my elbows on my knees, sitting on the edge of the cushion. I could still feel warmth radiating from him–it was late, and I was tired with a full stomach. If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall right into him, and he’d never let me live that down.

Zoe practically was asleep, leaning forward as well with her head on my shoulder. Cynthia had let her have nearly two glasses of wine at dinner–not enough to get her drunk, but it didn’t change the fact Zoe was still lithe and young, and easily tipsy.

We’d all gone into town for a very awkward dinner–I was just thankful to be placed between my father and Zoe, in a position on the opposite end of the table from Connor, who was stuck in between Larry and Cynthia, looking as if he were in a permanent time out.

Now we were gathered around the coffee table in the cabin, the seven of us hunched over a tiny photo album that I couldn’t really make out from here. There were fuzzy polaroids of us as children, looking nothing like we did now. Connor and I at six, soaked from romping in a sprinkler. Zoe and Connor sharing a chocolate icecream cone, their faces covered in the brown spatter.

“You were all so small,” Mrs. Murphy crowed with a choked voice, covering half her face with her hand in a faux attempt to eclipse the emotion. “Oh, I miss it. You kids used to spend so much time together! Now we only get together for break, and Zoe is so busy there’s hardly enough time for her to spend quality time with her sweet brother.”

Zoe snorted loudly, earning a glare from Mr. Murphy I was positive I wasn’t supposed to see. I snuck a glance at Connor, whose face betrayed no emotion, just staring blankly ahead in the direction of the album. From his position, I was positive he couldn’t see more than the chipped leather cover of the book. Even if he leaned forward, he wouldn’t have been able to see much.

My mother and Mrs. Murphy went out in loud voices in a seamless attempt to pretend the seemingly secret interaction had taken place, so, while the focus was shifted, I turned my attention to Connor.

He didn’t cock an eyebrow this time when he caught me staring, instead just furrowed his eyebrows and looked at me, as if he expected me to speak.

“Can you see?” I asked, nodding my head in the direction of the book.

“I’m fine,” he said immediately–vaguely irritating, I’d admit, but nonetheless understandable. I was sure Cynthia Murphy had spent most of her life making sure Connor was comfortable at all times. Still, this was my olive branch, in an attempt to make this trip a little more tolerable, and Zoe seemed less than likely to console her brother at this point.

“We can change seats, I’m not really looking,” I promised, sitting forward more in my seat to show that I was ready to make the change.

“I’m fi–”

Connor was cut off by a squeal from his mother, who had tossed the book into our laps. It had taken a great deal of squinting, letting my heartbeat slow before I realized she’d been showing us something and not trying to kill some giant bug between us.

The polaroid was grainy, an ivory hue that whitewashed the photo and the years of existence made the picture hard to decipher at first, especially when we were so tired. The time stamp was from the late nineties, glowing yellow in the corner of the frame. I recognized the gilded tub from upstairs that dominated half the bathroom, big enough for three adults easily.

Connor threw to book onto my lap first, like it had scalded him. I should’ve done the same, but it took me a moment. To see, to adjust, to read and understand what was so socially condemning about the photo.

It was Connor, I realized first, small and tanned with bony ribs and chunky fingers and the apples of his cheeks straining against his baby skin. His hair was cropped so short, it looked almost silly. Beside him was me, my hair wild and tangled, curled as if my mother had teased it for dinner. My wide eyes were blazing, much too big for my face, and I was grinning with wet lips at the camera.

We were in the tub, surrounded by big pink bubbles.

We were very, very naked.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal–not really, unless you counted the fact that if this had been printed, our parents would be arrested for child porn. I was mostly covered, sitting beside Connor, my shoulders hunched forward. But Connor was standing, meaning the camera got a very decent view of–

“What the fuck, Mom!” He screaming, standing and ripping the book off my lap. Cynthia’s tittering died immediately, the hands covering her laughed instead covered her horrified face.

This was how it started, I realized.

“It’s not fucking funny,” he growled, tossing the book across the room, banging against the wooden wall with a heavy whomp.  

“That’s enough, Connor,” Larry Murphy growled low in his throat. Cynthia’s head was downcast, her eyes wide and wet. I recognized the emotion immediately–she shut down with conflict the same way Connor did.

“You don’t get to laugh at me for shits and giggles this whole trip,” Connor said, already lunging up the stairs, his hands shaking. “If I wanted to feel shitty, I’d have a conversation with you.”

So much for having a quiet trip.
——
Zoe wasn’t quiet in her gossip about Connor–his door was fashioned shut, I saw, and I doubt he’d come out for the rest of the night. I was positive he could hear his sister’s loud comments from our room.

“Sorry, he’s such an ass,” Zoe groaned, stretching on the bed, her little lilac nightgown shifting across her thighs. “I think his high is wearing off or something–don’t let it bug you. You don’t have to be nice to him, by the way. I’m not gonna let him hurt you.”

I shrugged, noncommittal. “We were friends once. I’m not gonna be mean, he’s never done anything to me.”

Zoe snorted. “You didn’t just see that? He’s a monster, and it gets worse.”

“He just has a temper. Everyone gets like that sometimes.”

I wasn’t sure why I was defending Connor–half because I didn’t want Zoe to tell Connor I disliked him, then he’d actively terrorize me–half because I had no idea why Connor Murphy was so pissed off. It was just a picture. Yeah, embarrassing, I’ll admit I wasn’t too thrilled about eighteen year old Connor Murphy seeing my nipples, and I’ll admit he definitely had the worst end of the stick.

“He loses his shit like that all the time,” Zoe said. “It’s not just a temper.”

“He’s your brother, Zoe,” I reminded gently, brushing out my hair in the bathroom mirror. “Can’t you give him the benefit of the doubt?”

“He’s no brother of mine,” she whispered, rolling over on the bed and clicking off the light.

——

The next few days passed as the usually did–the adults going places without us, albeit romantic and boring, and leaving the three of us to wander about the town below the mountain crests. It was Zoe’s turn to pick the day’s activity, and she’d chosen the mall.

The place was all dark oak, and hadn’t been remodeled since the late seventies at the earliest. Zoe was chipper, balancing a bag of organic soap and bath bombs on her lap that she’d bought at a local shop, pouring over the cheese fries between us on a plastic red tray.

Connor had also been well-behaved since his outburst several days ago, albeit quiet. He’d separated from us the second we’d arrived, holed out in some record store. Zoe was thrilled to be rid of him, and very vocal about it. I was bored out of my mind.

“Don’t look now,” Zoe said brightly, despite her face suddenly shifting into a mask of disinterest. She bit down on her lip, covered in a pink glitter lipgloss she’d applied much too liberally, and pulled on her pretty auburn braid. “There’s some boys two tables behind us checking you out.”

I felt my face get hot. “You’re lying.”

“Nuh-uh,” Zoe said, leaning into take a sip of her milkshake, biting down on the straw–the look on her face told me she’d got their attention.

“How old are they?” I hissed. The last thing we needed were some creeps following us around the mall–this was how sex trafficking started. Surely Zoe knew that this was a huge red flag.

It was clear from her overzealous wave she didn’t.

I felt a hand on the back of my chair before I saw them–to Zoe’s credit, they were pretty. Both in thick denim blue jeans, both in letterman jackets over white tee-shirts. One was tall, skinny, with pretty dark skin and hair cropped close to his head. The other was a little thicker, pale and short, in badly need from a shave. They were smiling brightly at the two of us in a way that was less awestruck and more closely resembled a triumphant conquest.

“Hello, ladies,” the shorter man greeted, grinning like a shark between Zoe and I. His hair was dark, curling around his temples–handsome, maybe my age, maybe ten years older. It was impossible to tell. There were lines around his eyes that either indicated he smiled too much or was simply older. “What are two cute girls like you doing inside on a day like this–the ski lift is just a walk down the road.”

“We’re here shopping with our brother,” I said immediately, giving a grin. The taller boy quirked his eyebrows at me–his eyes, I noticed, were dark with tawny flecks hidden in them.

“That’s cool,” he said to me, switching places so that the other boy could be closer to Zoe. They both pulled chairs up to our table, facing us. My stomach pinched uncomfortably. “Where’s he at?”

“Nike,” I lied, seeing the sign from the distance and knowing very well that Hot Topic, while probably true, didn’t exactly invoke fear.

“Ah,” he said with a grin, his eyes glancing down at my bare arm with a grin. With two slim fingers, he reached forward to pluck at my woven bracelet Zoe had made me a few nights ago, my name in block letter strung across the twine. His hands were uncomfortably hot, and I drew my arm back into my lap. “Aren’t you cold?” He nodded to my bare arms. I’d left my flannel with Connor, who was sitting on a bench at the time–I hoped he remembered to grab it. I was just wearing a striped cotton tee right now, and my arm had broken out in a case of goosebumps, though I wasn’t sure it was from the cold.

“I’m fine,” I said, careful not to meet his gaze. He was pretty, and if I wasn’t careful, I might end up going somewhere with this guy.

“You know,” he began, and I could hear his grin turn predatory. “You’re very pretty.”

A jolt shot down my spine–I wasn’t pretty, not really, which terrified me. I could hear what the other boy was whispering to Zoe, but I could tell that all the stars were gone from her eyes. She looked pale, panicked. These weren’t the kind of boys we needed to hanging around with.

“I know,” I said quickly. “We really need to call our brother–”

“I think he can wait long enough for me to get your number, right?”

Across the table Zoe laughed, too loudly, pushing back and standing from her chair. She was grinning at the dark haired boy, beckoning her to follow with a jerk of her chin.

“Zoe–”

“We’re gonna run to get some coffee, okay? Connor should be back soon, don’t wait up.”

She didn’t meet my heavy glare for long, and didn’t turn around when I yelled her name. I watched in silent horror as the boy put his hand flush with her lower back.

I was alone.

The panic crept onto the back of my neck long before his thin fingers did. He smelled like cinnamon, strongly, like he’d done one too many sprays with his cologne that morning. When I turned to face him, his tawny eyes were asking.

“Is this the part where you say you’ve got a boyfriend?” He grinned, his teeth blindingly bright in his tan face. He was so close I could see the threads on the collar of his letterman jacket–it looked soft.

There was a possibility, I realized, that they weren’t dangerous. That I was just being paranoid–Zoe wasn’t stupid, and she wouldn’t go off with a strange boy unless she was sure it was safe. Still, they were definitely in college.

And boy, were they pretty.

“I do have a boyfriend, actually,” I said, lifting my chin to meet his gaze so he wouldn’t think I was lying. There was a small voice in the back of my head, screaming, raised on her tip toes that I should just take this plunge–let him hold my hand or kiss him or whatever he wanted to do, because this was a shitty trip and I deserved to be as reckless as the Murphy kids were allowed. I didn’t see a reason why I shouldn’t.

Besides, you know, the obvious.

He quirked an eyebrow. “You have a boyfriend?” He asked, biting back a smirk. I felt the voice in the back of my head get sucker punched by my ego. So, he didn’t think I was pretty after all. Which meant he was dangerous.

Which meant Zoe was in trouble.

“Yes,” I growled, standing, yelping a bit when his hand snaked up to grab at my wrist, nearly breaking my bracelet and keeping me bent over the table.

“Let go,” I hissed–the food court was nearly deserted, and the family in the corner was carefully avoiding my eyes. I wasn’t sure I had the voice to scream.

“I don’t believe you have a boyfriend.”

“Let go, or I’ll scream,” I warned, yanking on my arm. He let go immediately, holding his hand high above his head, which I knew was meant as a gesture of calm, but instead looked an awful lot like he intended to strike me.

“Where’s your boyfriend, then?” He taunted loudly, thrilled to see no one in the court coming to my aid. I felt sick, the panic rising in my chest. Where was Zoe? She was in trouble. I was in trouble. I was going to have to scream–

“He’s right here.”

My arm flailed, immediately cocking back in an attempt to elbow in the stomach whoever had wrapped their arm around my neck, their other spidery hand snaking just slightly under the hem of my t-shirt to splay across my hip, finger tips barely brushing my skin above my jeans. The arms were strong, vice like, pressing me against a hard body, and suddenly I felt limp, panic leaving me as I realized whose familiar smell I was enveloped in.

Hair grazed across my cheekbone, and I could make out the dark locks if I looked out the corner of my eye, and I nearly yelped when I felt lips press chastely against my temple.

I couldn’t make out much of the boy anymore, my eyes level with Connor’s adams apple from where he was pressing me against him.

“Babe,” Connor said cooly, calmly, making my knees knock against his. “Who’s this?”

“H-he’s leaving,” I managed to stutter out, barely a whisper, my voice hoarse. I sounded terrified. No wonder this ass in the letterman jacket hadn’t be intimated by me, I sounded about as frightening as a kitten. Connor pressed his fingers against the nape of my neck, tilting my head against his jugular so that I couldn’t see anything but the pale column of his throat and his dark hair. It was getting difficult to breathe–I felt sick. He moved his hand to wrap around my waist, yanking me tightly to him.

“You heard her,” Connor said, again stoic–half of me wished I could see his face, but the other half knew it would be terrifying. Connor’s temper was legendary and destructive–to see him so angry wouldn’t make the fist in my gut unclench. “Go. Take your friend with you.”

There was a beat of silence. Then two. I couldn’t hear much but my own shaky breathing, warm and wet against Connor’s neck, his hair making the space much too hot. I wasn’t aware I had knotted my fingers into his shirt until he started walking, dragging my stumbling form forward with him. He was going fast, too fast for me to keep up, and my chest could only rise so far before deflating painfully.

“You gotta breathe,” he grunted, one of his arms still around me. His face felt hot against me.

“Z-zoe!” I choked out, realizing I had no idea where she was. She could still be with that boy, be in danger–

“Oh, Christ,” he exclaimed bitterly, letting go and beginning to trudge forward. I was terrified briefly, suddenly overwhelmed with the fact I didn’t know where I was. There was a Game Stop, and a Victoria’s secret, the neon lighting combined with the screaming toddlers and the kissing teens and Connor was leaving

An arm swept up from behind me, leading me just as quickly, mumbling something I couldn’t make out into my ear.

“Zoe!” I grinned, immediately feeling safer, feeling my fear melt away just smidgen in my gut.

“I’m so so sorry I left,” she sobbed. “I went looking for a cop, but I found Connor first and I told him you were in trouble–”

“It’s fine,” I said immediately, surprised that my voice was no longer wet. “Thanks, Zoe.”

I was calm, or, at least calmer by the time we reached the van. Connor was waiting by the passenger side door, which was opened, leaning against a scratch in the silver paint. He wasn’t looking at us, instead appearing to observe the silver snowflakes as they fell.

My reflection in the side mirror revealed my face was red and blotchy, not just from the cold wind. I felt gross–guilty for the fact I hadn’t been able to defend myself and Zoe, guilty for the fact Connor Murphy was the one who had to come to my rescue, and guilty for the fact I’d cried all over him. His zipped up hoodie seemed to have escaped the mess, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel awful. 

He stepped out of the way when I made it close, gesturing for me to get in the passenger side door while glaring at the ground. I was only vaguely surprised, and followed along immediately. Zoe and I almost always rode together in the back. I let Connor shut the door, ignoring the disgusted look Zoe gave as she got into the back.

Connor hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, surprising me with a costume change, reappearing in only a forest green tee. He held out his hoodie to me, balled up in one of his fists without looking at me, before just tossing it into my lap.

“I–”

“I left your flannel in the back. Put that on or you’ll freeze.”

He licked his lips, staring coldly out the front window, before starting the car. I swallowed. Yeah, he definitely hated me.

“Okay.”

——

“You’re sure you’re alright, honey?” My mother asked for the third time. Her hair was tied up, her pink bathrobe covering little of her cleavage and bare legs. She was cradling a wine bottle in her hands, looking at me in faux concern.

I gave her a soft smile. “I’m fine,” I lied. I’d calmed considerately. Connor and Zoe had both agreed I needed to shower to wash off the panicked look on my face–I’d asked them to keep the days happenings a secret. They’d reluctantly agreed.

She gave me a clipped smile. “Maybe you should go to bed early, yeah? That’s what I plan to do.”

I nodded, scratching at my bare leg. I’d taken advantage of Zoe’s absense and changed into boxer shorts and an oversized tee with a kitten on the front–she and Cynthia had headed into town for the night, spending the night at a spa and would be gone for a few days, and my father had taken his annual ‘me time’ and booked a hotel downtown to do his own thing. I think Mr. Murphy went with him, but regardless, he was out of the house. It was just me and my mother.

And Connor. I tried not to think about it. I planned on offering him the big bed tonight, in way of thanking him for today, but we hadn’t spoken much since the incident and I felt…odd. Unsure how to thank him. Unsure why he helped.

I supposed the Murphy men were just gentlemen, even under all that teen angst.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m probably gonna sit out on the balcony and then head to bed.”

She grinned. “Don’t stay out too late, it’s almost down to single digits, dear.”

I just nodded, sliding off the countertop, and slinking upstairs. I was surprised to see Connor sitting on the bed. I grinned.

He looked different, to say the least. He was still without his jacket, wearing only his tee and jeans, and little pair of socks with stars on them, which did seem a little out of character, but I assumed Cynthia bought them. His head perked when he saw me, simply craning his neck, keeping his shoulders bowed forward over his body.

He looked small, I realized. He didn’t look like a boy who punched holes in walls or scared off very big very scary men in shopping mall food courts. He looked like a vogue model with a little too much innocence.

He gave me a grin with no teeth, and it didn’t quite meet his eyes, but I gave him a sheepish smile back.

“Hey,” I greeted, tugging on my top to cover my shorts a little better–Connor Murphy didn’t have any interest in seeing my thighs. Despite all the panic, I’d been playing over and over in my head the comment the boy in the mall had made, incredulous that I had a boyfriend. It was silly to let it sting me, considering he probably wanted to stuff me in a van, but it crippled me nonetheless.

“Hey,” he greeted back, not rising from the bed.  I waited for him to speak again, and when he said nothing, I continued.

“I, uh, meant to say, since Zoe’s gone, you can have the big bed like good old times.”

He frowned. “I don’t need the bed.”

“I don’t either,” I promised, leaning against the banister. “Plus,” I sighed, scratching at the back of my head. “I’m not entirely sure how to thank you for today. I’d probably be selling for a low ball price on the dark web right now, if it wasn’t for you. So, thanks.”

Connor was still frowning. “You’ve had a really rough day. You should take the bed.”

“No,” I insisted, beginning to get frustrated. “I’m really okay, I promise. I can’t give you anything else, take the bed.”

His dark eyebrows knit together quickly, licking his lips again nervously. “I don’t–”

“Plus,” I cut him off again with a curt laugh. “I owe you for your Oscar performance. That was crazy, you know. I can’t believe you fooled him into thinking a guy like you would be with a girl like me.”

His head snapped up. “A guy like me?” He reiterated coldly. I felt my face grow hot.

“You know,” I said quietly.

“Know what?”

“That you’re cool,” I muttered. “And nice looking. And I’m not.”

I was thankful for the warm lighting in the room, concealing my red face. It was already dark out, the blinds drawn tightly. Connor’s fists clenched in the white lace comforter on the bed. I didn’t want him to feel bad for me, and I sort of regretted saying it. Connor had already seen me blubbering today and he didn’t need my shitty teen angst to deal with.

He bit down on his lower lip, staring coldly at the ground before murmuring, “I need a shower. Take the bed.”

I shook my head. “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

He just nodded, rising from the bed. “Don’t get too far. It’s cold out.”

Connor shut the bathroom door behind him, and I was left feeling like a total idiot. I could hear the shower running before I left, snagging Connor’s grey jacket from my bed post and sliding it on. I went down the stairs, sliding out the first door to the outside, stepping out onto the first floor balcony. I made a mental note to the shut the blinds later, before walking around to the front of the cabin.

I should’ve been thrilled to be alive, I realized, snorting at how melodramatic that sounded. Still, as I burrowed deeper into Connor’s jacket, watching my thighs turn red from the cold, I realized that I was shrouded in a veil of melancholy I wouldn’t be able to shake off.

I missed Connor. I missed being his friend. I missed him coming over for play dates when we were kids, gauzy fairy wings strapped to our backs, jumping on a trampoline when Zoe was still to young to participate. I missed writing him letters, like a pen pal, despite the fact he only lived on the opposite side of town. Going to different schools hadn’t deterred us, for a while, at least. We had sleepovers every birthday, and Zoe told the best scary stories. I remembered hiding under Connor’s bed with him, a hand clasped over my mouth so Zoe wouldn’t hear our breathing.

I remembered kissing him when we were in kindergarten, ridiculously late at night, a quick smack on the lips during a game of pretend. I’d kissed Zoe, too, when we were probably much too old for it, but thinking of Connor tugged on my chest.

It stopped as we turned twelve, I realized. I never saw him–he was still playing little league, and I stopped coming to his games to pick dandelions with Zoe. He was beginning to get teased. My parents insisted the slumber parties should stop, we were too old. Every time Connor and I were together at birthdays or Christmas parties, adults would joke about when we’d fall in love, how soon would it be before we got married. We avoided each other like the plague, unless we knew we could be alone. And we were never alone.

Connor hid inside himself. Zoe made fun of him at parties, loudly. I kept quiet.

He stopped calling during the summer months. He never rode his bike by my house. The only time I saw Connor Murphy was the annual ski trip.

I missed him. He’d been a childhood friend, and I’d let him go without a second thought to save myself some shred of dignity, like it wouldn’t be ripped away from me regardless.

Connor Murphy was nothing to be ashamed of.

And now it was too late to be his friend.

It had started to snow again, so I wiped my face and rose, walking the opposite way I had come, skirting the stairs–they led to the upstairs, but only to Connor’s room, and I didn’t plan to barge in uninvited, especially if he was still in the shower, two rooms blocked me from getting to the king bed, so I’d have to walk all the way around the house.

The lights were out, I saw, but again no one had bothered to close the blinds. The television might have been on, a dim blue glow resounding onto the leather couch–

I froze.

As it turned out, my mother hadn’t gone to bed. The television was on, showing some late show with some old white man making cracks about some politician I didn’t care for, casting the blue haze onto the coffee table, revealing the wine bottle my mother had been cradling. Two empty glasses sat on the table–my mother’s bathrobe crinkled on the floor.

I was disgusted in a comedic way, just for a moment, to see my mother in her nightgown kissing my father, who my brain had filled in under the assumption he’d arrived back.

I’d begun backing up to the stairs, Connor Murphy’s naked body be damned, when I realized my father’s car had never pulled up, and I’d been on the front porch the whole time.

A better look in the window revealed a man a little older, a little more gray and a little more handsome than my father.

I was sprinting by the time Larry Murphy had begun to peel his shirt off his back.

I didn’t knock by the time I’d made it to Connor’s room, just threw open the door, struggling to get my breathing under control. I stumbled to the pull out couch, dragging the sheets up around my freezing legs. I was in shock, I knew, and I needed to calm down before Connor came in–the bathroom door was shut, but I couldn’t hear the shower anymore, despite the steady trickle of steam coming through the cracks. I was trapped in this room until Connor came out.

My mother was cheating on my father Larry Murphy. Larry Murphy was cheating on his wife with my mother. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t believe it, I had to have made it up, this had to be a dream–

“What are you doing in here?”

It was an exclamation, alarmed, grasping a towel tight with thin white knuckles.

Connor. Connor in a towel. Connor wet with slick hair and chest hair and navel and hip bones. Connor Murphy, son of Larry Murphy, who had his tongue down my mom’s throat–

“Hey, breathe, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

By the time my eyes snapped back into focus, Connor was struggling to pull on grey basketball shorts without dropping his towel, and I dropped my gaze back to my shaking hands, almost startlingly red from the temperature change and what was most likely shock. I was hyperventilating, struggling to smother the sobs. I knew this deep in the house, they probably wouldn’t hear me–they were most definitely preoccupied anyway. 

The bed dipped, and Connor’s bare side brushed my thigh. I didn’t mean to jerk back, but I did, clinging to the arm of the couch and staring horrified–Connor looked almost hurt, but mostly panicked. I tried to calm down, for his sake.

“S-sorry!” I sobbed. “Sorry! I-I-I didn’t mean–I didn’t mean–I didn’t–I–”

“Hey, stop, breathe. You gotta breathe. Go slow, okay? Stop tryna talk,” he commanded, holding up his hands to show he wasn’t gonna hurt me, readjusting so that he sat up on his knees, leaning  over me to take my hands, rubbing them between his own despite the claminess.

I avoided his eyes, focusing instead on the dip of his collar bone, surprised to see thin lines of chest hair, wet and plastered to his chest. He was skinny, and I could see his ribs despite the tiny stomach roll from where he folded in the middle. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles across the backs of my hands, and for a moment, I didn’t think. I could’ve forgotten everything and fallen asleep right here with him.

He pulled my hands against his chest, cradling mine in his own, pulling me forward, asking with his slate eyes if it was alright.

I pretended we were friends.

“You wanna talk about that?” He asked very softly, looking down at where our hands were clasped against him–he was warm, his skin pink and hot from the shower. He’d combed his hair back out of his face, and it was almost cute like that. “If it’s about today, I promise you’re safe, alright? I wasn’t gonna let that guy hurt you.”

My heart sunk in my chest, nearly restarting my panic attack. I shook my head.

Connor deserved to know.

I was scared, briefly, that it would set him off. He might yell at me, throw things, kick me out of the room. He might hit me.

I didn’t care. He had a right to know.

I swallowed thickly, shaking my head. “N-no.”

“Did something happen on your walk? Are you okay?”

I shook my head.

“What? Trouble back home–your boyfriend break up with you or something?”

“My mom–” I started, voice breaking, feeling fresh tears of shock on my cheeks.

His eyebrows furrowed, tightening his grip on my hands. “Is she okay? She–”

I saw it in slow motion–his jaw unclenched, eyebrows relaxing from their set, pouted mouth turning down. It was calm. It was knowing.

“You saw them,” he said very softly, letting my hands fall back into his lap. I was too shocked to move them away from his thighs.

“You knew,” I spat–an accusation. I hadn’t meant to make it one.

Connor scrubbed at his eyes roughly, flopping onto his back against the bed. Frustrated.

“I was tired of my dad reading my fucking emails, so I hacked into his–I only saw a few. I didn’t want to see anymore.”

I paled, feeling nauseous. “So it’s happened before?” I choked.

He swallowed. “That was two summers ago.”

“Fuck,” I hissed uncharacteristically, surprised to find Connor stretching out an arm to me. I took his hand with a firm grip. “How long before then.”

He shrugged. “Maybe our whole lives. Maybe before. I’m not sure, angel.”

I nodded, secretly pleased that he was so calm. It kept me level, grounded, watching where our hands were linked.

“What do we do?” I choked. “I have to tell my dad. He deserves to know.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “Everything would change. He’d tell my mom.”

I bit down on my lip, folding down onto my back to lay down beside Connor. “I hadn’t considered that.”

Connor sighed, scratching at my hand tenderly with his black painted nails. “I’m not sure that my mom and Zoe could handle the news–it’s not like they’d turn to me. They’d be alone. Zoe might even take my dad’s side.”

I groaned, stealing my hands to scrub at my eyes. My wet hair was beginning to dry in a tangled mess.

“This is too much,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side to face Connor, staring at his bare, freckled shoulder. “I don’t know what to do. If I can do anything.”

I jumped a foot out of my skin when he placed a hand at the corner of my jaw, brushing the tangled hair back out of my face. “You don’t have to think about it right now. You’ve had a really long fucking day. You should sleep.”

I didn’t want to sleep–I didn’t want Connor to leave. I didn’t know how to say that.

I couldn’t believe that everyone had tried to desperately to convince me Connor Murphy was a bad boy–fuck them, Connor Murphy was good. He was better than everyone in this cabin combined.

He cared about me.

I caught his wrist, which froze in my grasp, but I just took his bony hand and cradled it between my hands the same way he’d done mine, tracing the lines across his palm. He sucked  in a sharp breath.

“Okay,” I said, and he smiled, moving away. I let go of his hand.

“I just have to turn off the light. Get comfy.”

His retreating footsteps filled my stomach with dread, but nevertheless I unzipped his jacket and draped it on top of the blanket so that it would at least keep my feet warm. Pulling the pillow tight behind my head, I was pleased to find it sort of smelled like Connor’s shampoo as the light clicked off. It left me feeling a little more safe. Ironic, I realized. I was in the middle of a wilderness, I’d almost been abducted, my mother was downstairs ruining our family, and all I could find myself to be worried about was if Connor would be okay.

The bed dipped behind me, shocking me into stillness, surprising me even more when someone lifted the sheet and slid in behind me, a bony hand resting on my hip.

“This okay?” He asked, and I dared to open my eyes to meet his. They were unsure, nervous. He was scared I’d reject him. I nodded, scooting closer.

“It really will be okay, you know,” he assured. “Whatever you choose, I’m gonna be with you.”

“You’re amazing,” I said without thinking, but being entirely sincere. Even in the dark, I saw his eyes go wide and his cheeks tinge a deep magenta in his pale face.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” I assured with a laugh, reaching across the divide to poke at his side, slightly surprised to still find him shirtless. He’d withdrawn his hand almost immediately, keeping respectfully to his side of the bed. “I’d be dead without you. And you’ve supported me this whole way.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched, freeing one of his arms to pick at the wrinkled sheets between us. “I just, fuck, I knew you’d hear some shit, but I was hoping you’d be able to come out here and we could start over again, like before? Zoe started her smear campaign almost immediately. I just, fuck, nevermind.”

I watched him withdraw, turning over with his back to me, the pale plains of his back bared to me.

“Con,” I said very softly. “I don’t care what they say–fuck them,” I laughed, watching Connor’s shoulders shake. “I think you’re good, Connor, and I miss being your friend.”

I watched with bated breath as his back rose and fell with his steady breath in the cold room, his skin radiating heat. I shifted closer, crossing the divide between us. He didn’t respond.

I didn’t sleep.

——

I was alerted late in the day by a noise–it was daylight, I noted, the clock on the bedside table reading it was almost noon. I was groggy, still in the state between sleep and consciousness. The room was shrouded in a bright grey hue from the winter wonderland outside–it had snowed a significant amount, apparently, and the white fluff stuck hopelessly to the window.

At the foot of the bed, Connor was on his knees, pulling a navy sweater over his head. It was tight, with a stretched collar and holes at the hem, but he looked good in it. His hair was frizzed at the temples, and his eyes were wide when we saw me.

“You’re awake.”

I just nodded, a little embarrassed. Part of me hoped Connor would just let last night drop, and we could continue our indifference toward each other, but most of me felt as if we had an unfinished conversation to attend to.

“Is anyone back yet?” I asked, surprised as Connor came to sit in front of me, legs crossed kindergarten style. He shook his head.

“No, actually. No one came back from their trip, and the lovebirds have miraculously vanished for a ski day. It’s just me and you.”

“Oh.”

Connor seemed unsure for a moment, brushing his hands off on his pants. “I’m sorry, um, about last night? I should’ve asked first if it was okay to sleep next to you, I just–I know you said you missed being friends, so I thought–”

“It was nice,” I cut him off with a smile that was nearly all false bravado. “Warm. I really do miss hanging out with you.”

He pursed his lips in way of a smile. “Me too. Miss having friends, period, but you’re kinda great, so–I’ll shut up.”

Stretching, I groaned with the sensation and smiled widely at him. “We can be friends again, don’t you think?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. When my vision cleared, he was sitting by my feet, eyes downcast.

“It’s kinda lame, isn’t it?” He asked, sending ice down my spine.

“What, I’m not cool enough for you?” I teased half heartedly, despite feeling slightly sick. If Connor left now, I’d be marooned on this island I’d made for myself, and it wasn’t ideal knowing I no longer had any allies.

“No! That’s not what I–no, fuck, I just meant. Don’t you like Zoe better?”

I shook my head. “I like Zoe–but I liked you first.”

“Yeah, I liked the Teletubbies first, doesn’t mean I prefer them to Death Cab for Cutie.”

I snorted. “Okay, I like you best. You’re both really similar, you know, but you’re kinder.”

He shot me a glare, which I supposed I’d earned. “Liar.”

“Can’t lie,” I protested. “And I like you better. Get used to it.”

He swallowed, shifting on the bed and looking at me again as if grappling to say something. His eyebrows were pinched in the middle, making him look slightly worried, small. I watched the way his mouth bowed as he opened and closed it, my eyes tracing over his soft lips.

He was pretty, I realized, in a way I wouldn’t have considered before.

“What about when you leave?” He asked softly, scratching his arm absently.

I frowned. “What about it?”

“We won’t see each other again.”

I smiled. “Connor, you just live on the other side of town. I do own a car.”

He frowned. “You’d come to see me?”

“If you wanted me to,” I answered honestly. “Or we could go do stuff. It doesn’t make me any difference–whatever you want, I’m game for.”

His eyebrows took a sharp hike into his hairline. “Whatever I want, huh?”

My stomach clenched nervously–decidedly a good kind of nervous. I didn’t realize it till he placed his hand on my ankle, grinning up at me with crooked teeth and pretty eyes, that I might’ve begun to develop a small crush on him.

Which wasn’t okay.

——

“This is such bullshit.”

I cackled as Connor continued to strap on his snow boots, repeatedly tripping and losing his balance in the snow.

“C'mon, it’s fun!” I protested, pulling my sock toboggan down tighter over my ears, trudging another few slow steps through the slush. Connor was frustrated, I could tell, seeing his pink nose and ears, his breaths coming out in angry puffs of smoke.

“No,” he grunted, dragging himself up the trail a few more steps. “Video games are fun. Cartoons are fun. Cheap Internet porn is fun. Dragging my frozen ass up a mountain covered in snow for ten miles is not my idea of fun, dude.”

“It’s not ten miles,” I protested, taking a seat on a mostly clean looking rock, patting the seat beside me in condolence to Connor, giving him a much needed break. He’d agreed to go outside with me at least once to take a hike, since the Murphy kids never ever wanted to do anything that didn’t involve fried food or touristy tie dye t-shirts. We’d been going for a few hours now, and the last bench had easily been miles ago. I wanted to see where the trail ended.

Part of me was scared he’d only agreed because he thought I would break. I’d surprised myself with how calm I’d been after, well, what a nightmare this trip had been. I supposed I’d be worse once my dad got back–but he wasn’t yet, so I was content to have my last moments with Connor.

“We’ve been out here for hours, man, don’t you think we should head back before it gets dark?” He whined, leaning forward on his elbows and rubbed his hands together–he had on mittens, which was probably the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Say what you want about Connor Murphy, his aesthetic was absolutely demolished once you put him in a fire engine red puffer coat.

I sighed, glancing wistfully up the trail. I’d like to finish, but Connor was right–it was getting dark, too dangerous out for us to be out here alone. He’d humored me enough for today.

Time to go back and face reality.

I just nodded, stuffing my hands in my pockets and rising from the rock, giving a decent stretch before moving forward back down the path, Connor scurrying along beside me.

“Thanks for coming,” I said again, nudging him with my shoulder. He stumbled gracefully, grinning with a subdued force that warmed me a little, before checking me back with his shoulder.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he warned, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But it wasn’t totally awful.”

I snorted. “I won’t let anyone know Connor Murphy can feel fun.”

Biting back a smile, he nudged me again. “God, please don’t. Then they might bring me back here and I’ll have to spend another two weeks with you.”

“I’m sure I’m just killing you inside,” I teased. “How dare your parents give you unfiltered access to a teenage girl.”

“Who never wears pants around the house,” he added sagely.

“And sleeps in your bed!” I choked with laughter, the bird walking along the snow path in front of us clearing the way. “God, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry, I was probably awful. Did I snore?”

His mouth twisted, as if trying to look indifferent but instead just failed at smothering a smile, both corners of his lips turning in a different direction.

“Not awful,” he offered, earning an embarrassed groan from me. “No! It’s cute, like a kid, I promise. You kicked the shit out of me, though.”

“You’re kidding me,” I groaned. “I’m so so sorry! I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Might be some bruises,” he grinned, to my further mortification. “Hey, nah, I’m kidding. Any damage will heal. It’s kinda funny.”

I cocked an eyebrow from where I was hiding my face behind my gloves. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” he said, reaching out to take my wrist, pulling one of my hands away from my face. He didn’t realize it, just held it, swinging stiffly between us as we walked. He held his breath for a moment before continuing, “I would’ve let you know if I didn’t like it.”

“Kinky,” I said upon reflex, earning a lazy kick to my ankle.

“You’re hilarious. I just meant you’re warm, maybe the bruises are worth it.”

I felt my face get hot, words forming in my belly, escaping before I could choke them back. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll kiss them better tonight, if Zoe isn’t back.”

He let go of my wrist like I’d burned him.

“Sor–”

“Don’t,” he said quietly, stuffing his hands in his pockets, beginning to walk quickly ahead of me.

“What?” I screeched, frustrated.

“Don’t fake flirt with me. It’s not funny,” he spat, continuing walking too fast on his ridiculously long legs.

“Who said it was fake?” I grumbled. “I’m not making fun of you, Connor.”

There was a beat of silence, pulling at my heart with sharp claws, the dull ache starting in my chest and spreading. I’d messed up everything.

“It’s getting dark,” he growled. “And we don’t have a flashlight. Try and keep up.”

——

The panic set in at twilight.

We were running.

He was holding my hand again, dragging me roughly down the mountain, hoping desperately to see some kind of light pollution as the sun set, but there was nothing.

“We should see lights by now,” I told him. “We can see the lights from our cabin, we should see the lights now.”

“We went down the wrong side of the mountain,” he gasped, already out of breathe. I knew his lungs weren’t the best, and we’d been running for awhile now.

“There has to be something at the bottom,” I whispered hopelessly.

“There is,” he growled. “It’s called a gorge, then you climb the other mountain, and there’s the next state. Fuck, how did we get so turned around?”

“Doesn’t matter, Con,” I said hopelessly. “It’s gonna be dark soon.”

His dark eyes widened. “You aren’t sincerely suggesting we try to find shelter. In the middle of a national park.”

“I’ve got a flare gun and a flint,” I told him. “But we have to get back up out of the trees.”

“You want us to climb the mountain again?” He hissed, holding both my hands now. “Are you positive you don’t have signal?”

I nodded. “I’m really sorry, Connor.”

“Don’t be sorry. Start walking.”

——

It was an accident.

It was dark.

I had an analog watch, letting me know it was nearly nine pm. We’d found shelter just as it had started to snow–the  ground here was wet, quickly freezing into ice, and we kept slipping up on the trail. I’d set off the flare an hour ago, and, so far, nothing. The snow had begun to pick up, and we’d found a alcove between two adjacent rocks–not big, about the size of a walk in closet, but enough space for us, our bags, and a pile of wood that refused to light. It kept the snow and wind off of us, and the alcove was high enough I felt safe, with a small mouth that made me feel as if at any instant we could be trapped.

It was an accident.

“The fire won’t light,” I said again, hopelessly, watching my now bloody fingers go numb from trying desperately to get the flint to do its job. I couldn’t feel them without my gloves on.

Connor, huddled in a corner, viciously rubbed his arms in an attempt to get warm. I knew the  temperature would only drop from here. If someone hadn’t seen the flare….

“There’s no dry wood. I checked.”

“Nothing?”

“No, okay? Nothing. That’s it.”

I knew he was right–and searching now would only prove to be counter productive and dangerous. I moved our bags and the pile of firewood to the entrance, sealing us in.

“It’s gonna be pitch black soon,” I warned, watching Connor tap angrily at his phone. “You should probably save your battery. I don’t have a flashlight.”

He snorted. “You’ll bring sleeping bags and a flint, but not a flashlight?”

“It’s the emergency bag! I didn’t pack it, Connor. Make fun of it all you want, but it’s keeping us alive!”

There was a beat of silence, before he clicked his phone off, leaving us in darkness. “M sorry.”

I dragged out the single sleeping bag, stretching it out to him. “Don’t be sorry.” I felt guilty–it was my fault we were in this mess to begin with. “Wanna granola bar?”

“Save it,” he said in a clipped tone, unsure what to make of it since we were veiled in darkness. “We might need it later.” Then, softer: “What’s the plan?”

I heard him stand, and walk across the slick ice of the alcove, coming to stand beside me, his hand at my elbow.

“Well,” I said very slowly, feeling my throat get thick. “Survive the night, stay awake, and once dawn hits we head back to the other side of the mountain, if no one comes.”

“If no one comes,” he echoed, voice oddly hollow. I choked.

“It, erm, is very possible they think we just wandered off, you know? We’re teenagers,” I reminded gently. I left out the part the police would be less than willing to look–Connor had a history of running away after a bad binge.

“Fuck,” he growled.

It was an accident. It was quick, in the dark, we couldn’t see.

He reached our for me, his open palm colliding with the back of my head, yanking me tightly again his chest, my nose buried in his nylon puffer coat. I felt his other hand, too forcefully, at the small of my back, and I nearly screamed, terrified this was an episode I couldn’t control–

“We’re gonna make it outta here,” he breathed against my ear, his breath warm and humid against my freezing ears. It set off a light bulb in my brain. “We’re gonna go back home and–fucking shit, I’m gonna be a goddamn good friend to you and we’re gonna–fuck,” he hissed, his clipped voice breaking off. “I’m gonna take care of you, I’m not going anywhere.”

I let myself break open, collapsing against him, openly sobbing with regret. He stiffened, but just tightened his arms around me despite our bulky clothes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This is all my fault.”

“It is not,” he hissed, shaking me a little. “We had no way of knowing this would happen. The trail looked safe.”

I just nodded, knowing that arguing would tire me out. I felt the lethargy begin to creep in my bones–Connor was warm, and it was late, and we were tired. Falling asleep meant dying.

“Get out the sleeping bag,” he said, extracting himself from me, and I heard his hands scrape along the hard rock looking for the entrance. “And I’ll look for some more blankets in the bag, see if we can’t insulate–fuck!

“What is it?” I screeched, turning, grabbing his hand to only find that my own was suddenly wet, almost sticky, and Connor pulled away with a howl. I smelled the metallic sting before I realized.

“Something cut my hand!”

“Stay away from the wall,” I warned. “Take your undershirt off, I’ll rip it up.” I felt around desperately for Connor’s phone, immediately illuminating our little cave with a blinding blue light.

The amount of blood smeared across the wall was nauseating. There was a sharp spot Connor must’ve grabbed too quickly.

He was crying, trying desperately to unzip his coat with one hand, the other dripping onto the floor.

“Fuck, I hope something doesn’t smell that,” I whispered, laying down the light and running to help him get undressed, careful of the open cut across his palm.

“I knew I was gonna get naked tonight,” he said with an unsure laugh, “I just didn’t realize it would be like this.”

My face flushed. “What, you thought I’d suck you off because we’re about to die?”

He shivered, accentuated by me ripping his white shirt down the front, exposing his blue, goosebumped skin.

“Fuck,” he hissed, and I was unsure if it was from the cold, the pain, or my foul language.

“Hope this is clean,” I muttered, wrapping a strip of his white shirt across his palm in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. It was a good way to get an infection, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.

“I didn’t–I wouldn’t ask you to–”

“I’m not sucking you off!”

“Fuck, I just meant–hypothermia, skin to skin, I saw it in a movie–”

The phone light clicked off. I sighed, tying off the cotton bandage.

“You wanna get naked in the sleeping bag,” I finished.

“I don’t want to!” He howled. “And not naked–just, enough to stay alive, shit. It’s gonna be negative ten out here soon, I just wanna stay alive.”

“We should hurry,” I said, surprising myself by reaching out to urge him to rub at his bare chest, earning a gasp from him. “You’re gonna freeze soon. Get your pants off.”

I handed him the sleeping bag, my breath catching as I heard his belt clink to the floor, trying very hard not to think about the implications of this. How far did he expect me to undress? And, if we did get in here, it would be ridiculously tight, we might fall asleep–

“Hurry up, this bag is an icicle with one person.”

Straightening out my bra and panties (even if we were going to die, Connor Murphy did not get to cop a feel) I felt my way to the sleeping bag.

My hand on his chest, he guided my legs one at time–one by his side, one between his knees–and gently folded me down against him, uncomfortably tight as his shaking fingers zipped the sleeping bag up.

He was breathing hard against my temple, and I immediately began to sweat–between the nylon bag and the fact I felt all of Connor Murphy pressed against my chest and stomach–it was nerve wracking.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he reminded in a hoarse voice, shaking a little. I couldn’t quite figure out where his hands were.

“Don’t get a boner,” I begged, earning a beat of silence before:

“I, uh, am–I’m really trying not to,” he groaned, and I could feel how hot his face was against my temple.

“If it helps,” I said, slightly disgusted. “You can imagine our parents kissing. That really kills my fire.”

“Ew,” he said. “Please don’t.”

I grinned. “What? You don’t want me to be your hot step sister?”

Stop it,” he begged, making me laugh, pressing my face against the soft cushion of his hair, nosing at the column of his throat. He groaned a little, and I felt his fingers twitch beside my hips.

“I can’t believe their secret is going to die with us,” I sighed. “No one is ever going to know.”

“I can’t believe you’re lying on top of me in your spiderman panties, but that’s also happening, so you’d better believe it,” he sighed, hands twitching again.

“You can touch me, you know,” I breathed, a little embarrassed against his ear. “We’re gonna die anyway, might as well die comfy.”

“We won’t die,” he promised, his hands clasping over the small of my back regardless.  “Hey,” he crooned, in a soft voice I hadn’t heard before. Encouraging. “Remember sharing a sleeping bag when we were kids?”

I laughed half heartedly, remembering fully. “The thing was always full of pixie stick wrappers.”

“It was an addiction, and I have quit,” he said sagely, earning another laugh from me. I almost joked about the pot, but part of me knew it wasn’t a funny joke. It didn’t have anything to do with him. He sighed, one finger trailing up my spine. “God, I was so in love with you.”

I froze against him, my body a live wire. His hand pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said tha–”

“Were you really?” I asked. I felt him smile, before leaning in to kiss my cheek, slowly, his dry lips lingering.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know,” he groaned. “Zoe had me convinced you were just humoring me because you knew I’d do anything for you.”

I pulled up, as far as I could (which wasn’t much) squinting to make out his face in the dark. “That wasn’t true. You were my best friend.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. God, that time when you kissed me….I’m so sorry we stopped talking. I don’t think I’m ever gonna forgive myself for that.”

“Connor,” I said very softly, reaching up to tangle my hands lightly in his hair. “If we’re gonna die…can I just….”

He surged up before I could, the nylon around us snapping taunt, squeaking in protest. Up on his elbows, his bony hands found their purchase on my bare hips, and I felt the wetness through one of the bandages–his hand was still bleeding, the idiot.

His lips were dry, and he kissed much too roughly for someone who wasn’t holding my head in place, our teeth clinking together in a way that I knew was an accident, sending my skull ringing. His eyes were squeezed shut in the darkness.

I can’t believe it took us to the brink of death for him to admit this.

God, he’s an idiot.

I reached up, pulling at his hair, holding his head to mine, his tongue licking roughly up into my mouth before breaking away–

“Boner,” he warned in a squeak, earning a loud laugh from me, collapsing against his chest.

“Not even in death, Murphy, am I sucking you off on a first or last date,” I giggled against his neck, giving him a chaste kiss there, listening to him groan. His hips canted a little, scaring me, before taking a deep breath to calm himself.

“First date, huh?” I felt him grin, followed by a yawn.

“Stay awake, Connor,” I urged, smacking him hard. “Or I’m gonna twist your nipple.”

“Kinky,” he sighed lethargically. Shit, he was gonna sleep.

“Connor–”

“Promise me this,” he sighed, nuzzling lightly against the side of my face. “If we survive the night by some miracle, and we don’t freeze to death or get eaten by bears or bleed out–you wanna kiss me again? With more clothes on? As my girlfriend?”

I leaned into his touch, tilting my head up to give him access to suck a hickey into my neck, groaning.

“Murphy, if we live, I will suck you off.”

That was the last thing I remembered.

——-

Three days later, it’s still cold. I’m not wearing much–a blue gown with shitty pink flowers, it’s made of some kind of plasticy cotton material. There’s blood under my fingernails and bruises on my neck that are almost embarrassing when I remembered how I got them. My clothes were gone.

Connor was gone.

My mother and father were leaning over my bed, the Murphy's  (minus Cynthia) are behind them. No Connor.

They explained it slowly, eyes wide. They found Connor and I nearly frozen, unconscious. Connor lost a lot of blood, they said, and he wasn’t do so well but he’d woken up several days before me.

He wouldn’t eat until they let him see me.

I’d nearly ripped out my IV to get to him.

He was wearing the same shitty hospital gown, his hair pulled back. He’s got hickies I don’t remember giving him across his collarbone that are ridiculously visible. There were purple bruises under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping.

“They said you were still too sick to get out of bed,” he grinned, opening his arm, and I immediately stumbled over to the thin mattress, pressing myself tightly against him. His hand is thickly wrapped in cotton, a few tubes full of a yellow brown liquid in them. He was combing my hair–which I’m sure was a rats nest–out with his free hand.

“They said the same about you.”

“We’re really lucky, you know,” I said softly, tapping at his chest. “I almost lost you.”

“Almost lost you,” he choked out, pulling away to scan my face, before grinning. “Which would’ve sucked, because you’re my only friend right now.”

“Friend?” I said, trying hard not to sound disappointed. I supposed I shouldn’t have been–what we’d done in the heat of a moment hadn’t meant anything then. It had been a lie for my humor.

It wasn’t fair.

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed. “You, um–do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

I frowned. “I mean, only if you want me to.”

He grinned, the smile splitting across his face. “It’ll suck–your parents will hate me.”

“Right now, I kind of hate my parents, so.”

“I do a lot of pot.”

“We can do something else instead,” I grinned, nudging him, having the nerve to blush.

He licked his lips, looking down at where he’d intertwined our hands. “You–you can’t fix me, you know? I’m still gonna be, you know.”

I nodded, bring his hand up to kiss across the bloody knuckles of his good hand. “I know. I promised I’d be your girlfriend, though. A promise is a promise.”

He grinned. “I’m glad you say that–because you did promise something else.”

I shook my head, rising from the bed. “The kiss is for when we have clothes on, remember.”

“I wasn’t talking about that kiss.”

Connor Murphy!

That Awkward Moment When

John Laurens x Female Reader

Requested by @cupcakequeen1999 who was kind enough to compromise, this one goes out to you girl, you’re super rad

In which the reader and Laurens are roommates and very good friends. Jealousy and smut ensues.

Words: 4,573

Warnings: NSFW! SMUT SMUT SMUT and LOTS OF SWEARING (don’t read if this will make you uncomfortable)

Keep reading

At approximately 5AM on 4 August, 2002, 39-year-old Todd Sees departed his home in Mount Pleasant Township, Pennsylvania, to drive two miles to Mt. Montour to assess the deer population. Hunting season was fast approaching. At around the same time, a number of separate witnesses reported seeing a disc-shaped object floating in the sky over Mt. Montour. One of the witnesses reported seeing a flicker of sparks coming from the wires that run across the top of the mountain. Another witness reported seeing a beam of light coming down from the UFO and then the body of a man being levitated by the beam of light.

When Sees did not return home, his son went out searching for him and found his car. Beside the car he found his father’s neatly folded clothes. A search party was assembled and they scoured the surrounding area. Two days later, his body was found in some underbrush in an area that had already been extensively searched the day before. Sees was naked except for his undergarments and was said to have an expression of horror on the face. Additionally, his body was extremely emaciated. With no external or internal injuries, the results of the autopsy were inconclusive. Many people believe that what took place that morning on Mt. Montour was something otherworldly. 

BTS reaction to you sleeping on their chest

A/N: this is my first reaction, I hope everyone will enjoy it^^

Rapmonster (namjoon): He would be sitting comfortabely on the couch in the living room with an open book in his hand. You were sitting next to him as his shoulder was resting around you so you could lay your head on his chest. After a while it would be really silent as he was reading his book so he looked down just to see your sleeping face. He would be smiling sheepishly because of your fair skin which made you look like a little baby.

“why do you have to look cute in everything that you do?”

Originally posted by namjoonsgurl

Jin (seokjin): It would be a lazy sunday when you two would be lying on your shared bed. You’re head was resting on his chest as his arms were wrapped around your smaller form. “jagi? jagi…Y/N?” he would ask confusedly as you didn’t laugh at his dad joke. He would turn his head towards you and instantly would widen his eyes as he saw you sleeping soundly on his chest. The little snores that escaped your throat was everything to make him know that you were deeply asleep. Slowly getting up without waking you up, he took the blanket from the far end of the bed to tuck you into it. He tiptooed out of the room to make his way to the kitchen. He was planning on making a little soup for you because of the hunger that always grow into you when you wake up.

Originally posted by jjilljj

Jhope (hoseok): You two would be sprawled out on the floor of the practice room after a few hours of dancing. Because of the sleeveless top you were wearing you could feel the coldness of the floor hit your skin so you rolled over to your boyfriend’s side. “Im cold.” you murmured as you snuzzled your face in his chest. “Come here~” he would embrace you into a tight hug as you instantly felt warm because of his body heat. His stomache then made a weird nose, making his lips form an ‘O’ shape. “jagiya~ is it fried chicken or pizza for tonight?” he asked and felt slightly embarrassed for the loud noise of his stomache. “Y/N?” he would ask softly as he didn’t receive a respond. “aww~” he looked down to see your chubby cheek pressed against his chest as you selpt. “my jagiya is the cutest!” he would be internally fanboying over your cuteness.

Originally posted by nnochu

Suga (Yoongi): It was late at night when you entered Yoongi’s studio with some snacks and coke in your hands. You decided to bring him some food and not to sleep despite him being busy lately. He didn’t have the time to eat properly because of his hard work for their upcoming album so you always made sure that he was fed. “Y/N, I told you to just go to sleep.” he whined and watched you sitting comfortabely on his lap. “it’s past midnight and you haven’t eat anything, you worry me” you pouted and laid your head on his shoulder. He softened because of your words but still went further with his work. After two hours he finally finished and leaned back in his chair as he embraced your form tightly. “I finished” he said but got silence in return. Looking to you, he would realise that you fell asleep. He would snuzzle his nose against your temple and carry you to your shared bed. 

Originally posted by yoongles

Jimin: you two would be lying in each other’s embrace as you cuddled in bed. His mascular arms encircled itself around your waist to pull you onto his chest as you giggled cutely, making him also giggle. “I’m tired” you whined and laid your head against his chest as you totally relaxed. “sleep then” he said and brought the blanket up to cover your body which was in a pyjama. His soft stare would be fixated on your sleepy face as he sang a lullaby. Your eyes closed itself slowly until you deeply were asleep. “sweet  dreams, cutiepie” he whispered and kissed your head lovingly. 

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

V (Taehyung): After a long session of playing with your puppy, he would fall asleep under the table as you made your way to your boyfriend who was lying on your couch, watching a movie on the TV. “taetae~” you would beam and lay down on his chest. “hm?” he asked and kissed your cheek as you looked up. “let’s cuddle” you suggested and received nothing else but his famous cute smile in return. “only if you won’t fall asleep” he challenged. “deal” you accepted his offer and immediately laid back down as you clutched onto him. Taehyung counted to thirty and looked down to see you already asleep on his chest.”this girl” he shook his head and putted his oversized sweater over you to keep you warm.  

Originally posted by helendrv

Jungkook: you would be lying on his broad chest as both of you laid on the sofa, him being busy playing games. “jungkook~” you whined for the millionth time that day. You were eager to go outside because of the good weather but he told you that he first had to win the game. You just shrugged it off but it has been two hours since he started to play that game and it worked on your nerves. “wait jagiya…I almost finished” he said but you already gave up as you turned your head away from the TV. Silently falling asleep you embraced him tightly, making it difficult for him to move his arms. He sighed and also give up. “you won” he said in between a sigh, thinking that you were playing with him until he looked own to see you fully asleep on his chest. He would widen his eyes and let go of his controller as he embraced you too, giving you his warmth so you peacefully could sleep. 

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

all gifs are not mine 

thecoolestgay  asked:

Can you please write some adorable reddie cuddling fluff? I've been reading tons of angst and I'm gonna cry 😭

with pleasure my dude

(FYI - they’re a little older in this, nearly 20, as theres a few lil mentions of smexy times and some teasing and making out etc because i don’t write that very much and wanted a change, sue me)

please listen to tee shirt by birdy to get super cutesy vibes and all the feels <3


It was still dark out when Eddie woke up, squinting up to look out the window at the early morning sky. He checked his watch, seeing it was 5:45 am, and smiled. He still had hours to kill before waking up. He felt something move from underneath him and he turned his head to come face to face with Richie’s sleeping form. And he smiled.

Richie had snuck in again last night, just before midnight like clockwork, and begged Eddie to just fall asleep on top of him. So he had, and god was he happy he did. Eddie had fallen asleep on his front, leaning on Richie’s shoulder and tucking his face into his neck, softly sighing as Richie stroked the side of his face to help him fall asleep. He had slept for a good few hours until he woke up, but those few hours were pure bliss. 

Richie shifted again and let out some air through his nose before blinking open his eyes slightly. He saw Eddie staring at him and he smiled.

“You’re staring again.” He whispered. 

“You look cute in the morning.” Eddie said quietly and Richie chuckled, his chest rumbling and making butterflies erupt in Eddie’s stomach. 

“Thank you. You look pretty adorable too.” Richie said, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “What time is it? Do we have to get up now?” Richie asked sadly and Eddie shook his head, holding his wrist with the watch on to Richie’s face.

“We have ages. Go back to sleep if you want.” He said and Richie shrugged.

“Don’t wanna if you’re gonna be awake.”

“I’ll fall asleep too. You know I can’t stay away for too long.” Eddie pointed out, and snuggled into Richie’s neck, pressing a kiss at the base of his throat. Richie hummed in appreciation and rested his hand on the side of Eddie’s face, stroking the hairs just behind his ear. Eddie loved it when Richie was gentle with him, compared to how brash and loud he could be outside or with the others. He loved that side of Richie, it was fun and adventurous and he never knew what to expect from him, but soft, sleepy, Richie was his favourite. 

Eddie started pressing soft kisses across Richie’s neck, listening to the soft noises he was making, and then kissed behind his ear, making him shiver. Richie moved away slightly and Eddie whined, trying to kiss him again.

“I’m way too tired to flip you over right now, please don’t kiss me there until I’m wide awake and ready to go.” Richie joked, but Eddie stopped, knowing he was right. Even though Richie was more dominant in more than one aspect, when Eddie tried to take control he was putty in his hands. Eddie settled on resting the side of his face on the pillow and just staring up at his boyfriend instead. He was so beautiful, all freckles and pale skin and bright, brown eyes. He looked different without his glasses, but a good different. Older, more mature. Less like ‘Trashmouth Tozier’ or ‘Bucky Beaver’ that he had been known as during school. Now, he was just Richie. And Eddie loved just Richie. 

“What are we doing today again?” Richie asked after a short while of peaceful silence.

“Bev asked us to come to the movies with her and then we’re helping Stan pack for College. After that, nothing.” Eddie said sleepily. Richie nodded.

“Wanna get dinner tonight?”

“Not another pizza, Richie. My face is already breaking out from yesturday’s binge.”

“No,” Richie snorted. “Not pizza. Like, real food. From a restaurant.” Eddie smirked and looked up at him.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Tozier?” Eddie nearly died when he saw Richie’s face turn a little pink.

“Would that be so terrible?”

“Only a little bit.” Eddie teased and Richie rolled his eyes, gently flicking Eddie’s ear.

“Asshole.” 

“You love me.” Eddie hummed and Richie smiled, kissing his forehead.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Eddie scoffed and started to scoot away from him.

“I’m never snuggling with you again.” He threatened and Richie grabbed him before he could move further away, flipping them over and pinning Eddie underneath him. Eddie let out a breath, not expecting that at all, as Richie beamed down at him. “I thought you were too tired?”

“I perk up when you start getting fiesty and bratty.” Richie said and Eddie tutted at him.

“Bratty, pft! As if!” Richie leaned down rubbed his nose against Eddie’s fondly, making his heart melt.

“You’re so cute when you try to prove me wrong.”

“I’m not cute, I’m manly!”

“Shut up, Eddie. You’re adorable.” Richie said, kissing Eddie’s jaw. “Cute, cute, cute!” He kissed his nose, his cheek, and his collarbone for each word and Eddie bit his lip, holding back a smile.

“If the others could see us right now they’d puke.” He said and Richie laughed.

“I think Stan would bust a nut, being in the same room as us would be the most action he’s gonna get.”

“Don’t be mean!” Eddie frowned, swatting Richie’s hand. “Stan is gonna find somebody soon, just you wait.”

“He still won’t get as much as I do.” Richie raised an eyebrow, making Eddie go red.

“Shut up. I just put up with your horny ass because I have too.”

“I never hear you complaining, like, in fact, I always hear you telling me not to stop.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Eddie warned, pointing a finger up at him.

“Billy Boy would be so shocked at the filthy words that have come out of your little mouth, Eds. He’d be asking everyone where his precious little best friend has gone!” Richie grinned. “The answer, by the way, is underneath me. Or on top of me when I’m lazy. Like the good boy he is.”

“Do you kiss your Mom with that trashy mouth?” Eddie asked. Richie shrugged.

“No, but I kiss yours. And man does she love it-”

“Don’t make me say beep beep, you’ve been so good recently.” Eddie groaned and Richie sighed, before flopping onto his side, his arms getting tired. Eddie slowly moved back so he was lying beside him and reached up to move some of Richie’s wild hair out of the way. “You’re beautiful.” Eddie whispered, and for once, Richie didn’t make a joke. He just smiled.

“So are you. I got real lucky.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Shut up.” Richie teased, pressing his lips to Eddie’s, the two of them lazily moving and intertwining hands. When they eventually broke apart, Richie closed his eyes as Eddie carried on playing with his hair. “Can we, just…stay here forever?”

“The bed sheets would get so gross.” Eddie grimaced and Richie laughed.

“I hope you never change, Eds.” He said and kissed him again. Eddie deepened the kiss, running his tongue over Richie’s and pulling his body flush against his. He sighed into his boyfriends mouth and then pulled away, grinning like an idiot. 

“Yeah, let’s stay here forever.”

megzico  asked:

A scene where keith discovers lance has sweet aerial dance skills and more flexible than previously thought

Haha ok this is gonna be short and dumb. 

Keith holds the small tablet in his hand. His grin is impossible to suppress. He beams down at the screen, watching his teammates… his friends… perform in front of a hugs crowd. He groans as Shiro recites some stiff lines, and can’t help but cackle when poor Hunk falls down the stairs. 

“I don’t sound like that.” He murmurs when Allura dramatically pouts and does something reckless, all whilst the other paladins call her ‘Keith’. Crowds whoop and cheer in the audience as Pidge drives Green over them and creates a ceiling of vines. 

“Keith, we need to go…” Kolivan’s voice sounds just behind him. Keith turns over his shoulder to see him scowling.

“What are you watching?” He raises an eyebrow skeptically. Keith remembers the device in his hands.

“Oh!” He grapples to hold it up. “It’s the Voltron coalition performance. They broadcast them now.”

Kolivan’s eyebrows knit together, but his curiosity gets the better of him. He steps forward to watch over Keith’s shoulder.

“I could hear you laughing. Are they funny?”

“Not on purpose.” Keith chuckles. “I think I just find it funny because I know them.”

The black lion flies across the screen, holding its wings out wide and roaring loudly.

“Very showy.” Kolivan comments.

“Yeah but… it’s working?” Keith shrugs. Kolivan nods. 

They stop talking as the Red lion becomes visible. The camera zooms in as she opens her mouth and a figure emerges. 

“Ladies, Gentleman, and mono-gendered individuals! Put your appendages together to welcome Lover-boy Laaaaance!” A booming voice sounds over the stadium.

“Oh my god, what have they done….” But Keith doesn’t get a chance to finish his thought before he lets out a quiet gasp. He can’t remember anything he was just about to say, because out of Red descends Lance… in a perfect spread eagle.

“Holy…” He unconsciously leans closer to the monitor. Lance stars to twirl on the rope, expertly moving it between his ankles to create an anchorage point. He moves his body fluidly, but Keith knows how much core strength each movement must take.

“That looks difficult.” Kolivan remarks.

“Extremely.” Keith is ashamed of how breathless he sounds. His jaw slackens again as Lance holds himself out to the side and widens his long legs into a split. He rotates slowly, giving the audience a view from every angle. Keith feels heat pool in his cheeks and abdomen. 

“That’s the blue one, right?” Kolivan asks. Keith wordlessly nods.

“He helped lead the mission on Puiga. He’s a good fighter.”

“Uh huh.”

“I liked him. He tried to get the Puigan people to accept us.” Kolivan smirks as he stares at Keith’s expression. Open mouthed and unblinking.

“He would make a suitable mate.” He claps Keith on the shoulder. The sudden contact brings Keith away from his gawking.

“w…w…what?” He stammers. Lance slides down the rope and runs off stage. Keith turns off the tablet completely, feeling he’s seen enough.

“You heard me.” Kolivan begins to walk away. “Maybe it’s good you came to us. Less distractions.”

Keith sighs. He rises to his feet and begins to follow Kolivan towards their chambers. 

“Lance isn’t a distraction…. he’s my…”

“Keith,” Kolivan stops and Keith has to stop mid-stride to prevent colliding into him. The large Galra sighs. He places two large hands on Keith’s shoulder and levels him with a serious expression. 

“The blades have continued for thousands of years because we value our mission above ourselves. We are expendable because we refrain from partnerships or others that will connect us to this life.” He takes a clawed hand under Keith’s chin and lifts his gaze.

“Wanting a mate does not make you weak. But it is a luxury we cannot afford.” His voice is gentle, but stern.

“I expect that you will return to your team for this reason. And I will not be disappointed when you do.”

“I want to help…!”

“I know.” Kolivan releases his grip. “But if you were to leave…” He thinks of mentioning Lance, but refrains. Keith is young, and confused, and probably has no idea what kind of expression he wore when he watched Lance on that screen. 

“I would approve.” He nods. 

“I’m not…!” Keith jogs to keep up.

“We won’t discuss this further.” Kolivan doesn’t pause in his stride. “Now go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

And with that Keith is left alone. He hangs in the empty hallway confused and dumbstruck, with nothing but heat in his gut and images of Lance’s long legs spreading open swirling through his mind. Keith lets out a frustrated grunt and punches the wall. He doubts he’ll be getting any sleep that night.  

sun’s out, fun’s out

Summary: the Barnes family spend the day at the beach || FLUFF || bucky x reader

Warnings: none, just cuteness

Notes: inspired by @retroasgardian trying to kill me with cute headcanons; here we have Bucky with three kids - Samuel Grant (who goes by Grant), Anna Margaret, and little Rebecca Natalia.

I might make a dad!bucky series idk, who would want that?

MASTERLIST

Keep reading

petition to add to the collective fanon that while dipper receives his very own ford-made journal at the end of that first summer (and a new one every year after that probably lbr), mabel gets a book of her own too

it’s wider than dipper’s and matches the light magenta of her favorite sweater, down to the thick golden shooting star sticker on the front… a new scrapbook!

she looks up at ford with a sort of elated confusion. he beams at her, kneels down to her height, and reminds her that without her scrap booking skills and trust, stan wouldn’t have his memory back, and she’s really got a knack for -

he’s not even halfway through the speech he’d prepared when she throws her arms around him and yells, “I LOVE IT! thankyouthankyouthank-”

ford freezes for a second, and then smiles and hugs her back.

perfect- h.s song imagine

you can listen to the song here

I found a love for me

Darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

“There he is! The man of the hour!” Nick exclaimed as his eyes landed on his long term friend at the end of the hall. You let out a chuckle as you followed closely behind him. Nick Grimshaw was the only person you knew that would have this much enthusiasm in the morning.

Harry smiled at his friend before he gave him a hug. “Doing alright, mate?” Nick asked as he returned the hug. You stood back quietly, watching the two embrace. Harry nodded before his eyes landed on yours. He let out a small gasp as he took you in. You were beautiful. Nick noticed Harry’s eyes wandering to yours. Nick placed his hand on your shoulder. “Harry, this is Y/N, my assistant.”

Your cheeks blushed as you held you hand out to Harry. “Hi,” you whispered. When Harry took your hand, you could feel literal sparks going off. Harry’s hands burned at your touch. He smiled at you. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me

“I have to say I’m surprised you brought Y/N last night to mum’s dinner,” Gemma admitted as she stirred her cup of tea with a spoon. Harry stared at his sister from across the table, his eyebrows quirked up. Gemma looked up when she noticed his silence. Her eyes went wide. “No! I don’t mean you shouldn’t have! I just meant…you never bring anyone home.”

Harry nodded his head in agreement. It was true. Harry rarely brought anyone home to meet his family. He felt like if he was bringing someone to meet the most important people in his life, it should be someone he knew he had a future with. Although yours and Harry’s relationship was still fairly new, he knew that you were it for him. He knew that he wanted to spend as much time as he could with you. In his eyes, you were perfect and he wanted his family to see just how happy you made him.

Harry looked down at his fingers, a smile ding its way onto his face when he thought about how natural you looked with his family. How you laughed at his sister’s jokes, how you helped clean up the kitchen. Harry looked up at his sister and shrugged his shoulders. With a smile, “I truly believe I’ve waited my whole life to be with her.”

‘Cause we were just kids when we fell in love

Not knowing what it was

“Have you ever been in love?” you asked quietly. You and Harry were tangled up with one another. Your head was resting on his chest while his hand was on your lower back. Harry hummed. Has he been in love? Yes, he’s had a few girlfriends and he did feel something for each one but was it ever love?

You tilted your head up to look into his eyes. Harry shook his head no. “I don’t think I have been, no.” Harry admitted. You nodded your head. Harry pulled you closer to him. “Have you?”

To think about you loving someone gave Harry a slight pang in his chest. He didn’t want to think about anyone having the privilege of calling you theirs. He didn’t want to think about anyone having the honor of feeling your lips against their own.

You shook your head no as you let out a sigh. “Not yet.” Harry nodded his head as he began to play with your hair. “When do you know you’re in love?” You thought out loud. You had a lot of friends who were in love and even married. They knew they were in love. How do you know you’ve met someone and fell in love with them?

Harry bit down on his bottom lip as he too, thought the same thing. “I think…I think you know you’re in love when your significant other makes you feel everything and anything. I think you never want to leave their side, you mind always drifts to them…I’m not quite sure.”

“I feel all of those things with you,” you admitted quietly. Harry was sure that you could feel his heartbeat beating a million times a minute. Knowing that you were in the process of falling for him made him want to jump and scream at the world because…he felt all of those things with you.

You sat up and looked at Harry. He had a smile on his face as he stared back at you. “I feel all of those things and so much more.” You whispered as you placed your hand on his cheek.

But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own

And in your eyes, you’re holding mine

Harry let out a chuckle as he stared at you from across the room, dancing terribly with one of your friends. It’s nice to know that his girlfriend was just as uncoordinated as he was.

Niall took a seat next to Harry, holding a beer. He noticed Harry’s eyes following your every move. You turned and looked at Harry and smiled, a genuine smile before you and your friend made your way over to the bar. Niall tilted his beer in your direction. “Y/N’s special.”

Harry nodded his head. He looked over at Niall and smiled. “She is.” Niall smiled at his friend. “You know, mate. I’ve known you for a long time but it wasn’t until you met Y/N that I’ve seen you this happy. It’s like every time you look at her, you get this sparkle in your eye and she gets it too you know. Whenever she looks at you, it’s like you’re all she sees.”

Harry looked down at his lap with a giant, goofy smile on his face. Whenever someone talked about how much you cared for him, it truly did make him a sappy goose. Niall patted Harry’s back. “She’s perfect for you.”

Baby, I’m dancing in the dark with you between my arms

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song

Harry reached across from the table and grabbed your hand. “That was amazing, thank you love.” Harry smiled. For Harry’s birthday, he didn’t want to do much; only wanting to spend time with you. You decided to make him one of his favorite meals. You set up fairy lights in his backyard and set a table for the two of you. Music was playing softly in the background.

You looked up at Harry before you put your fork down. You beamed at him. “Of course, H.”

When the next song played, Harry immediately stood up. He walked over to you and held his hand out. “Dance with me.” You let out a chuckle as you took his hand. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist. Together the two of you swayed to the song. Harry placed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “But I can’t help falling in love with you,” Harry softly sang. You smiled as you listened to Harry singing along. You felt like the lyrics described your relationship with Harry perfectly. You couldn’t help falling falling in love with him.

When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath

But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

You let out a shaky sigh as you stared at your reflection. Tonight was Harry’s album release party and naturally, you were nervous. This was Harry’s big night. This is what he’s spent so much time on. You wanted everything to go accordingly for him.

You stared at the necklace on your neck. You let out a scowl. Really? you thought. Surely you had a much classier necklace somewhere in Harry’s room. You quickly took the necklace off and rummaged your way through Harry’s drawers.

Harry made his way up to his bedroom that you were getting ready in. He leaned against the door frame as he watched with you with amused eyes. You noticed Harry in the reflection and let out another sigh. “H, maybe I shouldn’t be there tonight.”

Harry’s eyes softened as he noticed how distraught you were. He made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist as the both of you stared at your reflection. He pressed a soft kiss on your neck. “Why not, love?”

You placed your hands on top of his. “I look like an absolute mess.” Harry shook his head. Surely his beautiful girlfriend wouldn’t talk so lowly of herself. Harry closed his eyes as he rested his head on your shoulder. “You look perfect,” he whispered.

You turned around in Harry’s hold and looked up at him. “You have to say that. You’re my boyfriend.” You chuckled. Harry smiled as he took your hand and pressed a kiss on top of it. “I mean it, love. You look perfect.”

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I’ll share her home

You let out a groan as you stared at your computer screen. Harry looked up from his phone. “What’s wrong, love?”

“My boss just emailed me about the meeting we’re having tomorrow. I have to go home and pick up some stuff to prepare” you sighed as you started making your way towards the door. Harry bit down on his bottom lip as he followed you. For a long time Harry’s thought about asking you to move in with him. You were already at his place almost everyday. Why delay it?

You were putting on your jacket as you noticed Harry’s fingers picking his bottom lip, something he did when he was thinking hard about something. “You alright, H?”

Harry looked up at you before he let go of his lip. “Do you want to move in?” Your eyes widened in shock. Harry placed his hands in his jean pockets as he waited on your answer nervously. “You want me to move in?” You asked.

Harry nodded before he scratched the back of his neck. “You’re already here most of the time, love. It’d definitely be easier if all your stuff is already here.”

You smiled as you took a step in front of him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Alright. I’ll move in with you.”

We are still kids, but we’re so in love

Fighting against all odds

“So how are you and Harry?” you sister asked as the two of you were out shopping. You looked up from the blouse you were looking at and smiled at your sister. “We’re perfect” you replied before you placed the blouse back onto the rack.

Your sister nodded before she closed her mouth. For her entire life, she’s never seen you so happy. She’s never seen you so in love and to be honest, that scared her. The last thing she ever wanted to see was you get hurt. “Does it ever scare you? Being so in love with him?” Your sister asked delicately, not wanting to get you mad.

You paused from looking at the skirts and shrugged your shoulders. “It did. At the beginning, yes. But…it also made me excited. Harry’s made me feel things I’ve never felt before. He’s made me more confident in myself. He’s just made me feel loved.” You smiled thinking about how much Harry has impacted your life.

Your sister walked closer to you, her eyes searching into yours. “Yes but doesn’t his status scare you?” When the press found out Harry Styles had a girlfriend, they had a field day. For a long time, it felt like everything you did was plastered on magazines. The press also loved coming up with rumors about the relationship. It was hard reading so much things accusing one cheating on the other but if anything, it made your relationship with Harry stronger. It made you realize you didn’t care what others had to say about you. You loved Harry and nothing would ever change that.

You looked into your sister’s concerned eyes and smiled. “I don’t see Harry as the Harry Styles. He’s just Harry and he’s…perfect.”

I see my future in your eyes

Gemma had her head resting on her hand as she stared at the display case. Her eyes caught one ring in particular. “How about this one?” she asked as she pointed at the ring. Harry looked over at the ring and immediately shook his head no.

Gemma let a groan as she placed her head on the display case. “Harry! We’ve been at this bloody store for over an hour!” Harry sighed, regretting bringing his sister. “Have to find the perfect one.” he mumbled. Gemma stood up straight and shook her head. You did deserve the perfect ring. It was just hard when Harry was so damn picky. “You know she would be fine with anything you pick, Harry. She’s not materialistic.”

Harry let out a sigh. “I know. She just deserves it you know? She deserves the world.” Harry’s eyes were scanning the rings laid out before his eyes landed on the one. “Can I see that one please?” Harry asked the clerk, his eyes never leaving it. The clerk smiled and took the ring out and handed it to Harry. Gemma stood behind Harry and gasped. “That’s beautiful, Harry.”

Harry smiled before he looked up at the clerk. “I’ll take this one.”

Now I know I have met an angel in person

And she looks perfect

Harry rubbed his sweaty palms against his suit jacket as he waited for you to walk down the aisle. His eyes wandered to all of the guests you and him invited to be a part of the special occasion. He gave a smile towards your mother. He looked at his own and chucked as she was staring back at him, tears in her eyes. She couldn’t help it. Her little boy was marrying the girl of his dreams. Harry turned around and looked at all of his groomsmen who beamed at him. Niall gave a thumbs up while Nick winked.

One by one, the bridesmaids made their way across the aisle. With each one, Harry grew more and more nervous. Finally, the song shifted, causing everyone to rise to their feet. The doors opened and there you were with your father. Harry’s breath hitched as he stared at his bride to be. He could’ve sworn he was looking at an angel, you were so perfect.

I don’t deserve this

You look perfect tonight

You gave your father a hug before he placed a kiss on your cheek. You stood in front of you husband to be, a tear managing to escape as you were about to become Mrs.Styles. Harry’s eyes held tears of his own as he took your hand. Once everyone took a seat and the pastor began to speak, Harry mouthed, “You look perfect.”


the amount of requests i’ve had to write this is INSANE. i hope i wrote it to everyone’s justice! also thank you guys so much for checking up on me during the hurricane! means the absolute world that you guys took the time to make sure everything was alright! i hope for anyone that was impacted is doing alright. sending all my love to you. 

you can find the rest of my writing here

also when i was looking up gifs, i thought this was 2013 harry MY HEART

The Morning After (Requested)

~Kim Namjoon~

Namjoon awoke to the sun beaming down into his eyes. With a groan, he jerked the blanket over his eyes and heard your sweet laugh. You peeled the sheet away from his hold and grinned down.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty.” You teased. Namjoon playfully growled and lashed out to grab your arm, dragging you under the blankets with him.

“Hm. That’s better.”

Originally posted by jjeonguk

~Kim Seokjin~

You would be the last one to wake up. The smell of breakfast would cause you to stir. You ran a hand through your messy hair as Jin’s pushed open the door with a tray of food in his hands. You wondered how you got so lucky.

“Oh good. You are awake. I was afraid I’d have to eat all this food by myself.” You rolled your eyes and plucked a piece of toast off of the tray.

“Not a chance.”

Originally posted by bwiseoks

~Min Yoongi~

You were both keen on sleeping in. So when the clock struck 11, Yoongi decided it was time to get motivated. He peeled open his eyes to see you laying on his arms. Your hair a mess and lips parted in a light snore. Yoongi stroked your cheek, watching your cute nose twitch.

“Stopppp….five more minutes.” You mumbled and scooted closer to Yoongi’s warmth. He chuckled and pulled the strand of hair away from your mouth.

“C'mon baby. Even I know it’s time to get up.” When your only response was to hold out your arms, Yoongi knew what you wanted. With a chuckle he stood and scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the living room.

Originally posted by jeonbase

~Jung Hoseok~

Hobi busted out laughing as you tried to waddle your way into the bathroom. By the limp in your right leg, Hobi knew he had done well. You looked over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Little boys who laugh at me don’t get to share a shower.” Hoseok immediately went quiet and nearly fell as he followed you into the bathroom. The hot water felt amazing on your skin but so did the feeling of Hobi rubbing his lips over the love bites he left.

“Round 2?”

Originally posted by jaayhope

~Park Jimin~

Jimin rubbed out the soreness in your hips, at least tried to anyway. He really didn’t know what he was doing but the way your brow crinkled in pleasure, he knew he was doing something right.

“I’m sorry Princess. I didn’t hurt you too bad, right?” Your lips curled in a grin and Jimin blushed. You wiggled out from underneath him and traced a finger over the angry scratch marks down his chest.

“No, but I think I hurt you the worst.”

Originally posted by jimiyoong

~Kim Taehyung~

Tae awoke to the sound of the Morning news. He felt no need to put on any clothing as he walked in naked through his apartment. You were circled up on the couch in his t-shirt, sipping some green tea.

“Y/n why are you up so early?” You turned to answer but got an eyeful of a very excited Taehyung. You scoffed and sat down your tea, holding out your arms.

“I’m a morning person, but it seems you are as well.”

Originally posted by mvssmedia

~Jeon Jungkook~

Jungkooks soft snoring in your ear was what woke you from your slumber. His long limbs were basically tossed haphazardly over every part of your body. You lightly pushed his chest but to no avail.

Your hands laid on his waist but the only thing that resulted in was a light moan that had you blushing to your ears. It was no use obviously. So when you gave in and laid your head on Jungkook’s chest, he had won.

Too bad you didn’t see him smiling down at you the entire time.

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Scratchy

No matter how many times Levi woke up to Eren’s hard on pressed firmly between his ass cheeks, or seen him come out of the shower butt naked and smiling, or even woken up by his tender kisses and terrible morning breath, nothing could compare to the rare sight of Eren still asleep.

Contrary to popular belief, Eren was always the first one to be up and ready to tackle the day- already dressed and making breakfast before Levi could even get out a throaty good morning.

But it wasn’t always like that.

Before Levi had gathered the courage to confess his feelings to Eren, it was easy for him to be up and ready before the sun even rose. After being the captain for so many years, he was used to being burdened with endless stacks of paperwork and countless amounts of bloody flashbacks to keep him up and running for hours on end. He had no time to know what it felt like to have a good night’s sleep. It was a routine for him.

Until Eren stumbled into his life.

Eren was this unstoppable force barging into Levi’s life, this ball of energy who tore his way into his cold heart.

And he loved it.

Loved the sudden change in his unhealthy routine. How raw and unexpected Eren acted when they were out on missions or in his office discussing battle plans over paperwork and dinner. Loved how straightforward and courageous he was when it came to protecting him. How unexperienced and curious his heart of gold trained him into becoming the man he was today. How eleven years took their toll on his body and mended him into a man worthy of exchanging his status from cadet to Captain.

Levi was reluctant to retire at first, but after the shock of Erwin’s death and exterminating most of the titans, he felt it was time to retire at the age of thirty-four and relinquish his duty to Eren. It wasn’t until a year had passed of Eren becoming the Captain that he got down on one knee and finally proposed to him. Not like he was waiting or anything.

Levi watched as Eren stirred in his sleep, letting his eyes fall where the sunlight beamed down on the golden band safely secured around his ring finger and feeling his heart swell with happiness. He continued to watch as his husband rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into his plump pillow as an exceptionally loud huff escaped from his lips and died into the fluffy cushion embedded with his pine scent.

The white comforter, which used to cover his body, fell from his broad shoulders and down to his bare ass, the tan flesh peeking out from underneath and sending a breathtaking jolt to Levi’s cock.

Ignoring his sudden hard on, he reached out and ran a curious finger along the dip of his lower back. Gliding them over his back dimples before following the curve of his spine while never taking his eyes off of Eren to make sure he didn’t wake up. Once his finger approached the divide between Eren’s shoulder blades and spine, he let his finger slide back down to where the comforter stopped and bit his lip.

Moving closer, he slowly climbed on top of his body and straddled his waist, careful not to wake him as he bent down and lavished Eren’s sunkissed skin in tender kisses.

They were still under the covers, so the comforter pooled around Levi’s lower back as he bent down and pressed his cold lips along the dip of Eren’s back, his calloused hands caressing his sides as he marked his way up to his shoulders. Leaving longer kisses in the curve of where his shoulders met his neck.

Eren hummed and slowly stirred awake, his head turning to the side as his sleepy amber eyes pried open and silently watched Levi shower him in kisses. “You really should consider shaving,” He quietly mumbled, startling Levi with his deep voice. “Your stubble is scratchy.”

Levi chuckled and smothered his face into his neck, making his stubble more noticeable as he rubbed his face into Eren’s sensitive skin. “Asshole.” Eren growled as he playfully flipped Levi onto his back, Levi laughing as he bounced beneath him, caged in by his muscular arms.

Levi smirked and reached forward, burying his hands into his long messy brown hair before reaching up and planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Good morning.” He whispered before Eren hummed and moved his right hand to caress the curve of his slender neck, gently rubbing his thumb over his sharp jawline before prying his mouth open.

Despite his morning breath, Levi let himself get pulled into Eren. Allowing Eren’s left hand to slither under his back and pull him to his chest, letting his flexible back arch into his burning touch. Tilting his head back to allow him more room, Eren went at scavenging his neck with playful kisses, leaving little nicks and pricks from his teeth every now and then in his pale skin.

“Good morning.” Eren spoke between kisses before puckering his lips against his neck and blowing hot air out, producing a loud obnoxious fart sound to be heard.

Levi squealed and pushed Eren’s face away from his neck, scrambling to get away from him while laughing the entire time. Eren chuckled and took hold of his waists, pining him down to the mattress before attacking his stomach. Levi burst out in a flurry of laughter and pushed his fingers through Eren’s hair, trying to get him to stop and away from his stomach.

“Eren- hahaha I swear…if you don’t stop that I’m gonna-!”

“Gonna what?” Eren mused, his eyes dangerous and mischievous as he paused his attacks on Levi’s sensitive and ticklish stomach and instead started to trail hot kisses down his abdomen.

Levi licked his lips. “I’m gonna…” His hands tightened in Eren’s hair. “…gonna…”

Eren smirked and disappeared below the comforter.

Fuck.