bottom-of-the-stairs

cinderella: redo

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

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I Heard That

Imagine: You are always quiet in math, a class you happen to share with Peter Parker. Once you finally muster the courage to speak up, Peter finds a type of excuse so he can spend more time with you.

Word Count: 1100??? maybe

A/N: This is shitty and rushed but I have an assignment due on Monday that I haven’t really started sooO soz

Your fingers cramped as you attempted to write the answer before the timer at the front of the class went off. Several groans could be heard around the room as the renown alarm bounced off the walls of the quiet room. You rubbed your tired eyes beneath your glasses in hope that it would somehow get rid of the slight sleepiness that began to claw at them. Nevertheless, you began gliding your pen over your answers with concentration in attempt to find any mistakes.

“Alright then,” Coach Johnson, your Maths teacher spoke enthusiastically, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Who’s up first?”

The room remained silent as heads lowered to look down towards their work. Coach’s voice was louder this time, sounding slightly more impatient, “Any volunteers? No? Alright then. You’re up, Parker.”

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Skyline {VI}

Originally posted by tomhollanderr

Warnings: Language, blood mention, panic attack

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: Oh my god you guys!!  I have so much to discuss but first and foremost I want to thank all of you for making this story into what it is.  I started this story two weeks ago and in those two weeks I’ve gained almost 2000 followers and have had success that I never even dreamed of.  Thank you so much for all that you’ve done for me, for this story, and hopefully for stories I write in the future!!! Skyline wouldn’t be what it is today without you guys.  Secondly, there will be a pt. 7!!!  I know I keep saying this, but I really did mean for this to be the last part.  It’s just that there are so many things I want to include and plot points I want to flesh out, and although I feel bad for writing angst chapter after angst chapter, I want to give you guys my all and I don’t want to short change you.  Finally, I would like to thank my friends Zoe and Jen for helping me brainstorm ideas and helping finalize details and plot points.  I love you guys so so much!!  Also, everyone, again, I DO NOT HAVE A TAGS LIST!!! I put this at the beginning of every chapter, it’s in my bio, and I’ve made multiple posts but people keep spamming me about it.  I am truly not trying to be mean, but I do my best to respond to every ask and message I get, and having to sort through a million people asking the same question is hard guys!!!.  Before, I go, one last thing: because everyone has sent me in songs that they listen to that remind them of Skyline, I compiled them into a playlist along with ones I listen to!!  Please give it a listen and try to listen in order, as the songs follow the storyline.  Link is below.  Enjoy everyone!!

skyline: a mixtape

{part i} {part ii} {part iii} {part iv} {part v} 

Waking up the next morning was hard.  Sleep was like temporary amnesia, and when you awoke alone in bed, your hand automatically reached out for the note that Spider-Man always left before he disappeared every night.  Instead of feeling the usual smooth sheet of paper, however, you felt empty sheets that seemed colder than ever before.  It was then that the events of the previous night tumbled into your head, from your request to know Spider-Man’s identity, to him saying I love you for the first time, to you giving him up.

You groaned and rubbed your hand across your face, fatigue taking over.  More than anything, you wanted to fake an illness, stay in bed all day, and wallow in your thoughts, but you knew you had to get up. Although the breakup hurt you (did it count as a breakup if you were never really together in the first place?), you knew you made the right choice.  There was no way a relationship with a superhero would work out if the significant other didn’t know who they were; if you were to fall in love, you would need to be able to fall completely.

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Needs Of Approval

Pairing: Kol x Reader (Ft. Klaus & Elijah)

Warnings: A lot of gifs used (; And this is a bit long, so get cozy and enjoy!

Word Count: 2731

PART TWO 


Klaus was a good friend to your parents for years and years. When they died, you were just 12 years old. There was no one else to look after you, so Klaus took you in like the child he never had.

It has been 9 years that he’s been taking care of you and those 9 years hasn’t been easy. You were constantly moving from place to place, unable to call any place your home. Until finally, Klaus settled into a small town called ‘Mystic Falls’. Klaus did run into a few problems here and there with the Salvatore brothers, but he always kept you out of it. The last thing he wants is to see you hurt. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Soon, he had a mansion built for you and his family to live in. You finally got to meet Rebekah and Elijah, who were nothing but kind to you, but you were wondering when you would ever meet Finn and Kol. Eventually, Rebekah ended up getting daggered again which did upset you because she was like a sister to you.

You never understood why Klaus had a thing for daggering his siblings. The last time you brought up that subject, he said that it’s complicated and to not ask again. And so you obeyed.

Right now, Klaus & Elijah are having dinner with the Salvatore brothers about this whole ‘Elena’ situation with Klaus’s hybrids. Of course, since Klaus wants to keep you out of his mess, he advised you to stay in your room and not get involved, no matter what kind of ruckus you hear.

You’re currently in your room, sitting comfortably under the covers on your bed reading a book. The walls weren’t so thick because you can hear mumbles of all of the men exchanging words. It made you feel better knowing that no one is fighting and no one is getting hurt.

Minutes go by and you could’ve sworn you heard Rebekah’s voice. You closed your book, setting it on the bed and slowly got out of bed, walking towards your door while you tried listening in more. And that’s when you also noticed some unfamiliar male voices and Klaus yelling in pain.

You know that Klaus doesn’t want you involved but you couldn’t help but rush to him in aid. You care for him so much that you’re even willing to let him feed on you a little if he really needed it. He took care of you and you saw it as your obligation to return the favor.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, his screams stop and you hear Elijah calmly say, “this is family business.”

Entering the dining room where everyone is, the first thing you see is Klaus leaning over the table, waiting for the pain to pass.

“Family business? What family business?! What’s going on?!” You shouted.

Everyone turns around to look at you. You noticed that Stefan and Damon were gone and you see two men. They looked familiar but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Y/N please. Just go back to your room.” Klaus begged.

“No seriously, what are you guys doing to Nik. And who the hell are you two?” You scoffed at the two men.

Before they could get a word in, Elijah spoke. “My dear Y/N. This is Kol and Finn.” Elijah pointed at each one individually as he named them.

Your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe it. I mean, what an awkward first way to meet them.

“Who might this be?” Finn asked.

“Yeah who the bloody hell are you? Nik’s girl?” Kol added, putting his hands on his hips. You glared at Kol’s remark, you never thought of Klaus in a romantic way. You always saw him as your guardian, your protector.

Elijah walked over to you. “It’s quite a long story. I assure you, I’ll explain it all to you later.” He put one hand on your back and the other leading to the stairs. “Come.”

Elijah took his time to tell you everything that was going on while Klaus and the rest of the siblings handled their issues. Eventually you understood that this family is flat out dysfunctional, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You all even came to find out that their mother, Esther was alive as well. How odd.


Over this short amount of time, you didn’t exactly see Kol as a brother like you do, Elijah. You weirdly found him attractive, actually. You didn’t know if it was his looks or his wittiness, even though he is the wreck less Mikaelson sibling. Not knowing if he felt the same or not, you just kept it to yourself. 

Today is the Mikaelson Ball. Klaus was kind enough to lend you his credit card to buy yourself the proper attire for tonight. Rebekah even went with you to shop and even helped herself to her brother’s credit card as well.

Finally, after trying on over 10 dresses, you’ve found the perfect one. It was a backless sequin mermaid floor length dress. The best part is that it hugged your body perfectly.

And of course, since Klaus loves spoiling you, he also hired someone to style your hair and work on your makeup in your bedroom. You were just enjoying being pampered.

You were finished getting ready before any of the guests arrived, so you walked downstairs anyways to await their arrival. Walking downstairs, sliding your fingers on the railing, you saw the hired butlers getting champagne glasses filled. You even saw Kol helping himself to a glass. You tried your best to make sure you didn’t step on your dress as you were taking each step, by holding it up a few inches. With three steps left until you’ve reached the flat ground, there was Kol with his hand reaching out to you.  

At first, Kol only saw you as a mere roommate. But once he saw how stunning you looked in this very moment, it changed his entire perspective of you. He thought to himself how absolutely stunning you looked. His lips parted and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Now he felt like he just had to have you, even if he had to go through his brother Niklaus.

“I assumed you were in need of some assistance, Y/N.” Kol said to you.

You chuckled, grabbing onto his hand once you got closer. “Yeah I was struggling for a minute.” You let go of his hand once you reached the floor.

“So who might your escort be tonight?” Kol asked, then took a sip of his champagne, keeping his eyes on you, awaiting your answer.

“No one actually. Because no matter who it is, he’ll never be good enough for Klaus.”

“To hell with that bloody wanker.”

“Kol stop-” You shook your head, stifling a laugh.

“I’m only joking.” Kol put his hands up in defense. “See here, darling, I happen to not have a date as well. So do you mind?” He smiled at you.

“What?” You were shocked. Quickly, you snapped yourself out of it. “I mean, really?” Kol Mikaelson wants you as his date for the ball? This can’t be happening. You must be dreaming.

“You best hurry before I change my mind, Y/N.” He joked.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be your…um…date?” You didn’t know to question it or word it as a statement because you just couldn’t believe it.

Kol grabbed your right hand, saying, “Marvelous.” Then he slowly planted a kiss on the back of your hand. Your cheeks blushed red as you heard footsteps approach down the hall.

It was Niklaus that was here to ruin the moment. Oh no. “What is this?” He asked, not looking too happy at all.

You just froze, surprisingly being able to get a word out. “Klaus, we-”

“Y/N is letting me escort her to the ball. Perhaps you don’t mind.” Kol smirked, confidently walking towards the original hybrid.

Klaus had his hands behind his back, clenching his jaw, then revealed his crooked smile. He didn’t want to cause a scene today. “Hm… I thought you would at least choose a man that is more suitable for you.” He looked at you, then put one arm out straight to point at Kol.

Kol just glared at his older brother.

“Well according to you, no man is suitable for me. And technically, you could’ve taken Kol’s place, you know. But you’re too infatuated with that bitch, Caroline.” You spat. You’ve never liked Caroline for Klaus. She was always so rude to him, yet he was head over heels for her. 

“Y/N, do not start with me.” Klaus growled. You know that your remark about Caroline would bother him and you didn’t care because he was being a hypocrite.

“Don’t judge me on my date and I won’t judge you on yours.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, wearing a straight face.

Klaus fell silent. He narrowed his eyes at you, then gave Kol the death stare and stormed to another room in the house to let off some steam.

“Well then, this night is off to a fantastic start.” Kol joked, in an attempt to ease the tension.

“I mean, am I right or am I right?”

Kol nodded his head in agreement, then grabbed a glass of champagne for you to cheers with him.

Finally the guests started arriving. Every few minutes, more and more arrived. And almost all of them were wowed by how ginormous the mansion is and the choice of decor for the occasion. 

You stayed by Kol’s side while the both of you playfully voiced your opinions to each other about each guest that walked in. One of the things you do enjoy about Kol is that he doesn’t take everything seriously. He’s someone you can have fun with.

“Kol! Look Look!” You tapped him on the arm with your hand to look forward to get his attention because he got carried away on his smart phone. He was still getting the hang of using that device.

“Oooo who is it now?” He asked excitedly, putting his phone in his pocket.

“That’s that slut Elena and her Salvatore brothers. Klaus has told me all about her.” You said disgustingly.

“I bet they have threesomes. How fun.” Kol said, raising his brows up. 

You gagged, almost choking on your champagne.

“You alright there, darling?” Kol laughed, patting you on the back.

“Thank you. Thank you for that comment. I almost just died because of you.”

(Later…)

After sharing laughs and even more champagne, you decided to excuse yourself to the ladies room. “I’ll be back, Kol.”

“No matter.” Kol replied.

“Do you mind?” You asked, handing him your champagne glass to hold onto until you come back. He responded with a nod, then you went on your way.

Coming back from the loo, you didn’t see Kol in his original spot, you figured he’d be back, so you just hung around waiting for him to return. You observed all of the guests having a great time and even spotted Klaus with Caroline. He was just so mesmerized by her. Gross.

What you didn’t notice is that every now and then throughout the night, Klaus would look around to check up on you, making sure you’re not getting into any trouble with Kol. He despised that the one person you happened to allow to escort you is Kol. He knows the ins and outs of his little brother and doesn’t think his intentions for you are good.

“I see your escort is not by your side.” You hear from behind you, so you turn around to see that it’s Elijah, the oh so noble steed.

“Oh yeah. He’s probably grabbing a bite, if you know what I mean.” Blood from a human’s neck is exactly what you meant.

“Certainly. And might I add, I’ve noticed that the two of you have become quite friendly this evening.”

“I mean, if you say so Elijah.” You shrugged your shoulders at Elijah’s opinion. You wondered why it concerns him because Elijah is the least judgmental out of all of his brothers. Maybe he’s just making small talk? Who knows.

“Well, I-” Before Elijah could get a sentence out, Kol pops up and disrupts.

“Ah there you are, Y/N. Am I interrupting?” Kol said half-aloud with that accent of his that you just die for. Instead of finishing his sentence, Elijah just ended up excusing himself.

Not a moment too soon, you see Elijah making himself known at the top of stairs. “If anyone could gather, please.”

You and Kol were the first ones at the stairs. Elijah waited until the rest of his siblings followed. 

As you were minding your business watching everyone gather, out of nowhere Kol decides to snake his arm around your waist. It made your heart skip a beat and you surely hoped Kol didn’t hear it. You didn’t want him to know that he makes you nervous. 

As Klaus was excusing himself from being by Caroline’s side, he did see Kol getting too touchy for his own comfort. It did infuriate him, making him tempted to snap Kol’s neck right there on the spot. But, Klaus, and all the rest of his siblings, know how important this ball if to their mother, Esther. So, Klaus chose to let this one go.

You turned your head while your eyes were scanning around the room and the moment you saw Klaus, you quickly moved Kol’s arm away from your waist.

Once Klaus and Rebekah finally made their way to join the three of you at the top of the stairs, Elijah made his speech inviting all of the guests to join in on The Waltz. 

The guests followed to the ballroom, but you just stood in your spot, being left alone at the stairs. “Shit.” You said to yourself.

(Meanwhile…)

“You best mind your manners when it comes to Y/N. Do you comprehend?” Klaus growled at Kol as they were walking down the stairs.

“Don’t worry Nik, she’s safe with me.” Kol smiled and gave a wink.

Klaus wasn’t amused with his brother whatsoever, so he shot him a glare and stormed off to find Caroline.

Kol looked left and right after finally noticing that you’re nowhere near him. He looked behind him at the stairs and saw that you have a lost look on his face, so he rushed over to you.

“What’s the matter?” Kol asked, concerned that it was something serious.

“Um. This is embarrassing, but I don’t know how to Waltz or whatever. Nobody ever taught me.”

“Not to fret, darling. It’s easy. Just follow my lead.” Kol assured you, then picked up your hand, leaving a kiss on your knuckles. Of course, you blushed bright red at his gesture.


The night ended amazingly. When the night was coming to an end, you and all of The Mikaelsons stood around to thank every guest for coming. 

After all of the guests were finally gone, Klaus disappeared to his room to do god knows what. That’s when Kol decided to take advantage of the opportunity. You were about to leave to walk to your room, but Kol stopped you by lightly grabbing your wrist.

“Yes?” You were puzzled.

“I don’t mean to be a too much of a bother, but how about we pretend?” Kol flashed a grin.

“Pretend? Pretend what?” You chuckled at his suggestion. The word ‘pretend’ just brings you back to your childhood when you would use your wild imagination to ‘play pretend’.

“Seeing as we live under the same roof, allow me to walk you…to your bedroom.”

“This is really corny but okay.” As cheesy as you think this is, you can’t blame Kol because he was out of the loop for a hundred years. But, this gesture of his did make you feel some type of way.

Reaching your bedroom, the two of you were face to face under your door frame. “Have a lovely evening, Miss Y/L/N.” Instead of Kol kissing the back of your hand per usual, he left a gentle kiss on your forehead, then left elsewhere in the mansion.

This night ended up being better than you’ve ever anticipated. 

married part 7- h.s imagine

you can read the previous part here

you can find all my writing here

“This hotel really is beautiful. I can see why Niall and Emma wanted to have their wedding here.” You thought out loud as you looked around the hotel lobby.

Harry nodded his head as he stared down at his lap, his foot tapping anxiously. You sighed. You had a million and one thoughts going through your mind. You didn’t know how to fit everything you wanted to say in one sentence. So you started with the obvious thing you had to say.

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

Harry took his gaze off his fighting to fingers to look at you as you sat down on the spot next to him. He watched as you played with the hem of your dress. “When you told me you were marrying Kimberly…I cried so hard I thought I was going to run out of tears. When your wedding day finally came up, I remember crying so hard seeing you in your tux ready to marry someone who wasn’t me. But. I think what hurt the most was when you found out about my feelings for you last year…you gave up on us.”

Harry bit down on his bottom lip softly, shame written clearly on his forehead. You glanced at him before you sighed, “You were a married man, Harry. Never would I ever do something that could potentially hurt your marriage. Never would I ever ruin your chance of happiness. Yes. I was in love with you. But I would’ve gotten over it. We could’ve still been friends. You didn’t have to shut me out for a year. You didn’t have to break our birthday tradition.”

Harry closed his eyes momentarily. Harry doesn’t have a lot of regrets in his life, for he thinks that everything happens for a reason, whether it was good or not. However, missing your birthday the way that he did will always be his biggest regret.

“I think all the hurt I’ve felt finally caught up to me. That’s why I said what I did last night.” You stared into Harry’s green eyes before you softly grabbed his hand. “I told you that I was in love with Lucas.” Harry grimaced as he had to hear you say you loved another man for the second time within 24 hours. “But I’m not.” You finished.

Harry’s eyes went wide. He held your hand tighter. “What?” Harry asked. You looked down at your hands holding each other as you rubbed small circles on Harry’s hand with your thumb. “I told you I was in love with Lucas.” You looked up at Harry. “When really I’m in love with you. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being in love with you.”

Harry was quick to close the gap between the two of you. He placed both his hands on the sides of your cheeks as he kissed you. You sighed against Harry’s lips as you kissed him back. Harry pulled away and leant his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Harry whispered. You shrugged your shoulders as you placed one of your hands on top of his. “We both are.”

Emma looked at the entrance. She let out a squeal as she placed her hands on her cheeks. Niall looked at her, a piece of cake stuffed in his mouth, “What?” Emma nodded her head towards the door. Niall looked over and instantly his eyes went wide.

You and Harry walked over to the newly wed couple with your hands interlocked together. Harry leaned in and gave Niall a “bro hug” with his hand still holding yours. “Congratulations you guys! I just-”

“Emma. We’re in an alternative universe. It’s just us. We need to somehow gain control of these foreign creatures and declare land on this planet.” Niall said as he grabbed his wife.

Emma flicked Niall’s head before she turned to you and Harry. “What’s going on, here?” she smirked as she crossed her arms together.

Harry looked down at your hands before he looked back at you. “Just two best friends finding their way back, that’s all.”

You glanced at your hands and smiled. Emma let out a squeal as she pulled you into a hug. Niall let out a puff of air and smiled. He pulled Harry in for another hug and whispered in his ear, “It’s about damn time.”

Harry rolled his eyes playfully before he pulled you back to him. “I know it’s your wedding and all but me and Y/N have a lot to catch up on.” Emma nodded her head as she placed her hand on Niall’s chest. “We completed understand.”

Niall leaned into you and motioned you to come closer. “Make sure you use a condom.” Your eyes went wide before you flicked Niall’s ear. “Niall!” Niall raised his hands up in defense, “You guys have been in love with each other for years! Something’s bound to happen!”

You buried your head into Harry’s shoulder while he chuckled. With one last goodbye and congratulations, the two of you were off.

You had your arms crossed as you were walking around Harry’s still bare apartment. “So you decided to move?” You called out as you stopped in front of the bookcase he had at the side of the room. “Sort of. Kimberly wanted the apartment” Harry said sheepishly from the kitchen. You pursed your lips together as you looked at all the knickknacks Harry had on his bookshelf. You let out a chuckle as your eyes bounced to each item: a tiny statue of a frog, a ring Harry used to always wear when you guys were younger but outgrew (it broke his heart when he couldn’t even wear it on his pinky finger), his name tag from when he used to work at the bakery back home, his polaroid camera.

Your eyes landed on the framed picture of the two of you. You could feel your heart rate quicken. Even though you guys haven’t talked to each other in a year and even though he still had a lot to unpack; Harry still put up a framed picture of the two of you. You looked towards the kitchen and smiled. You shook your head as you stared off into the ground while chuckling.

“Y/N! Harry’s here!” Your mother shouted from the bottom of the stairs. You stared at yourself in the mirror and sighed. You smiled and quickly frowned when you saw your braces. You sighed as you grabbed your backpack and headed downstairs. Harry was sitting at the breakfast table in the new uniform you guys were required to wear in high school.

Your mom placed a glass of orange juice in front of Harry and took her seat. “I can’t believe you guys are in high school already.” You placed your chin in your hand and mumbled, “I can’t believe I’m starting my first year of high school in braces.”

A 15 year old Harry with hair that basically looked like a bird’s nest on top of his head swallowed his food. He patted your shoulders. “I keep telling you that you look fine, Y/N.” Your mom nodded her head as she began to leave the room, “He’s right, sweetie. Everyone gets braces at your age.”

You picked up your fork and began picking at your eggs. “Harry doesn’t have braces.” Harry let out a chuckle as he took a sip of his juice. Your mom came back with a camera and stood in front of you two on the other side of the table. “Come on, before you guys are late. We need to take a picture of your first day of high school!”

Harry leaned in closer to you and smiled. You looked at the camera and smiled a closed lip smile. The flash off and Harry scowled at you. “Love, that’s not a genuine smile.”

You let out a puff of air while you leaned back into your chair. “I don’t want to smile with my braces, H.”

Harry shook his head as he turned his body to face you properly. “Y/N, I think you look beautiful with your braces and I know for a fact that you’ll look beautiful once they come off. Don’t let them hide away that gorgeous smile I love so much.”

Your cheeks were quick to blush. You turned to your mom and let out a mumbled, “Fine. Let’s take another one.”

Your mom smiled as she got the camera ready once more. You smiled, braces in full show. Harry placed his arm around you as he smiled as well.

Through your entire friendship with Harry, he made sure you never questioned your beauty or worth. He was the first boy to ever tell you that you were beautiful. Maybe that’s why you fell for Harry as hard and as fast as you did. Harry was genuine and he was forgiving. He made sure everyone felt welcomed and he made sure everyone knew how much they meant to him. You fell in love with Harry for just the kindness he had in his heart.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted as Harry finally emerged from the kitchen. In his hands was a small muffin with a lit candle on top of it. He was quietly humming “Happy Birthday” as he walked closer to you.

You placed your hand on your mouth as your eyes brimmed with tears. Once the song was over Harry whispered, “To make up for the tradition I broke.” You smiled before you blew out the candle. Harry placed the muffin down on one of the shelves on the bookcase before he pulled you into your second kiss that night.

You and Harry were sitting down on his bed with your backs against the headboard. You had your head resting on his shoulder as Harry had his arm around you, tracing small circles on your shoulder. It was silent for a long time but you guys didn’t mind. What you guys needed right now was each other.

Suddenly Harry’s phone dinged, telling him he got a text message. He grabbed his phone from the night stand and sighed as he read the text. Your eyes glanced over to the screen.

From Kimberly: Don’t forget out meeting tomorrow.

Harry locked his phone before he placed it back onto the night stand. You bit your bottom lip, mentally debating whether or not this was a sensitive topic for Harry. “How did you guys get to the decision to get a divorce?”

Harry sighed as he stared at the wall in front of him.

Harry kicked a rock as he was walking along the sidewalk. He had his hands in his coat pockets as he was looking at the ground. Kimberly kicked him out once again. She claimed that she “needed space from him.”

Ever since Harry found out about your true feelings for him, his relationship with Kimberly started to change. He feels ashamed and disgusted with himself but he couldn’t help it. After knowing how you felt about him, he couldn’t help but question his marriage. That’s when the arguments started happening. Kimberly would yell and accuse Harry of not fully being in the marriage. Kimberly even went as far as accusing him of cheating.

Harry would never cheat on a woman. Ever.

His mother and Gemma always taught him the importance of a woman’s worth. He would never do something so stupid in his life.

But did he cheat? Did he cheat emotionally?

Was he cheating when he couldn’t push his feelings for you aside? Was it cheating when you crept into his mind when he was looking at Kimberly? Was it cheating when Harry would creep on your social medias, wondering if you were taking care of yourself? Was it cheating when the only concern Harry had was whether or not you moved on?

Harry sighed as he sat down on a bus bench. He was staring at every person walking by. Surely everyone was having a better night than he was right now. As he was staring off, his eyes landed on a familiar person. He let out a gasp. His heart rate started to quicken and he could feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

It was you.

You were walking on the other side of the street, a bag of takeout in your hands. Harry mentally debated whether or not he should run over and try to talk to you. It’s been three months, would you even want to talk to him?

The first thing he noticed was how long your hair has gotten. He noticed that you had your headphones in. Were you listening to the latest Coldplay song because you loved the band so much? Or were you talking to your mom, telling her about the latest news at work? The next thing he noticed was the bag of food you were holding. Was it just for you? Or were you going to share it with someone that wasn’t him?

As you walked away and your body was becoming smaller and smaller in the distance, Harry couldn’t help but let out a sniffle. His eyes started to water as he came to the realization you were out of his life. Sure he brought this upon himself but after seeing you for the first time in three months, it broke his heart.

“When I saw you that day, I realized that you were the only thing on my mind. I didn’t care that I was in a fight with Kimberly, I didn’t care that I was freezing my ass off on a bus bench. All I could see was you. That’s when I finally realized I was being fair to Kimberly. She deserves someone that would be able to love her properly and I couldn’t do that when you were on my mind.”

You turned your body so that you were sitting in front of Harry. You grabbed his hand. “Do you regret getting married?”

Harry placed his other hand on the side of your cheek. “I regret not marrying you.”

From Harry: Dinner tonight, love?

You smiled as you glanced at your phone on your desk. Your coworker, Olivia, was sitting in the chair in front of your desk. Her eyebrows perked up at you, “Alright. Spill. You’ve been smiling at your phone the entire day. Did something happen last night?”

After texting Harry a quick “yes”, you placed your phone into your desk drawer. “Actually-” But you were cut short as you saw the last person you expected to see, marching up to your desk. You quickly got up, “Kimberly?”

Kimberly walked straight up to you, nothing but venom in her eyes. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Fucking home wrecker.” before her hand collided with your cheek.


eh. i liked how i started this…not sure about how i ended it lol. let me know what you guys thought/ want to see happen next! 

you can read part 8 here

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!

Someone to Watch Over Me

Title:  Someone to Watch Over Me (A Bodyguard AU)

Series Masterlist (coming soon)

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Six months ago, everything changed. Widowed and alone, Dean Winchester is determined to pick himself up and move on, so he goes back to his job as a bodyguard for Singer Protective Services. His first assignment? An actress receiving death threats, an actress with an uncanny resemblance to his wife.

You don’t want protection, don’t need it. Especially from someone as cold and impersonal as Dean Winchester. You’re not afraid of a bunch of stupid death threats, you just want to be left alone to live your life.

Two people, two very different lives. Who will be the first to let the armor slip?

Characters:  Dean Winchester, Female reader, Bobby Singer, Tiny, Sam Winchester (mentioned), Georgia (OFC), Melissa (OFC-mentioned)

Word Count:  2936

Warnings: language, mentions stalking, death threats, mentions of blood

Author’s Notes: This was written for two challenges: @impala-dreamer One Prompt for All (had to be Dean x Reader, no more than 3,000 words, and the prompt: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to kill me.”) and @luci-in-trenchcoats AU & Things Challenge (I chose Bodyguard AU). I’m not gonna lie, a lot inspiration for this came from the Whitney Houston/Kevin Costner movie The Bodyguard.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

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who would have imagined that one direction would have Smashed the charts as a band and during their hiatus as solo artists?? um mE BITCH FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE STAIRS TO THE TOP OF THE CHARTS?!?!?! ONE BAND ONE DREAM ONE DIRECTION!!! BITCH!!!

Brother’s Best Friend (M)

Jaehyun x Reader (feat. Johnny)

Word Count: 3.6k

Genre: Smut, Slight angst

A/N: My first published smut ayy.. I was stuck on this for a while but last night lordt I just went on one and finished it at like 4am lmao… Ty to my FLOwer (@nctreacting) for helping me out with this 💕

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me: fuck 1D man, they never hang out anymore, they probably don’t even talk to each other at all, i’m out

*unseen gifs of one direction from 1892 come out*

me: fROM 👏 THE 👏 BOTTOM 👏 OF 👏THE 👏 STAIRS 👏TO 👏 THE 👏TOP 👏 OF 👏 THE 👏 WORLD 👏ONE 👏BAND 👏 ONE 👏 DREAM 👏 ONE 👏 DIRECTION 👏👏👏

In Sickness and Health

kat on AO3 asked: “could you maybe write one where derek travels for business, and stiles is home with the kids. when he gets really sick and the oldest calls derek to come home?”

Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: G, Word Count: 1449
Human AU, Sick Stiles, Writer Derek, Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, POV Derek

Read on AO3

There’s only one person in line in front of him when Derek’s phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s probably Stiles, calling him on the way to TJ and Carter’s school. The person in front of him steps through, to the airplane. Derek grabs his phone from his pocket, and looks apologetically at the flight attendant checking everyone’s tickets. He looks at his phone. A sense of foreboding creeps up his spine. A picture of Stiles and their kids in front of their house is on his screen. Someone’s calling him from their home number. Why would he be getting a call from home? There shouldn’t be anyone there.

Oh God. Something’s happened.

Trying not to let his panic show on his face, he steps out of the line.

‘Hello?’

Daddy’s dying, TJ whispers.

TJ’s just being dramatic, Derek tells himself. Stiles probably just bumped into something, or cut his finger, maybe he overslept, lost track of TJ in the rush to get their kids to school, and now she’s messing with the phone.

‘Why would you say that, little whelp?’ he asks, swallowing down his heart that somehow lodged itself in his throat.

He looks gross,’ is TJ’s unhelpful answer.

Derek can’t really blame her, she’s only four.

Give me the phone! You’re explaining it all wrong!

‘Give it back!

‘No!

Derek gnashes his teeth as he listens to his children struggle for the phone, feeling helpless, until finally Carter comes on.

‘Daddy’s sick. He’s coughing and breathing funny. And there’s a giant pile of snotty tissues by the bed,’ Carter explains. The six year-old is trying to sound firm and grown-up, but Derek knows his child, and can hear the tremble underneath the bravado. ‘And he’s moving around all slow, and keeps bumping into things like he’s drunk or blind or something.

That doesn’t sound like Stiles is dying, more like he’s got a really bad cold or, god forbid, the flu. Derek thought Stiles’ voice sounded funny on the phone last night, but assumed it was a bad connection. Not that Stiles would’ve admitted anything was wrong if he had asked.

‘Alright, little cub. Can you give me daddy?’

Sure. Carter sounds a little sullen that they don’t get to report further on one of their fathers’ imminent demise.

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Glory and Gore

Prompt: “All I need is your lips against mine. Right now.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

Word Count: 3,077 Words

Warnings: swearing, a bit of violence, fluff

Notes: This is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5k Writing Challenge! Seems like I’m really into Punk!Bucky nowadays. Don’t mind my title, I was just searching my ultra long playlist for ideas and this fit slightly. 

Originally posted by jlstreck

“Hurry up Y/N!” Wanda calls from the bottom of the stairs. It’s the first day back at school and you’ll be damned if you’re late. Some may give you disgusted side-glances because of your enthusiasm, but honestly? They’re the types of people who are destined to be future gas station attendants, so they don’t really bother you.

“I’m coming Wanda!” You reply, stuffing your matte lipstick into your bag and kicking your bedroom door closed. You hurry down the stairs, and smile at your best friend. “Ready?”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing your arm and tugging you towards the front door. “I’ve been ready since half an hour ago, you just take so damn long getting ready.” She tells you, leaning against the threshold as you lace up boots.

“Well, I’m sorry that I put effort into my looks.” You tease, squeaking as Wanda smacks your head.

“Stop rambling nonsense, let’s go.” She snorts, as you leave your home.

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Vampire Bat Boyfriend


I’ve gotten a lot of requests for vampires and a few for a bat monster, so vampire bat is here!

  It’s dark when you get home, then again it always is. You use to think working the late shift would be easy and fun, it’s only you and your coworkers in the store. You didn’t consider that the walk home would be so terrifying. You’ve started keeping your box cutter with you in your bag as well as a can of pepper spray on your keychain. You would ask your coworkers for a ride home, but some of them are gone before you even lock the front door.

  That was before though. Now as you make your way home you hear the familiar flapping above you and as you stop to look up he lands before you. He kneels then stands, towering above you as he kneels down and kisses you.

  “Did you just wake up?” You ask as you wipe the crust from the corners of his eyes, having to stand on tip-toe to reach.

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Congrats Man!

Originally posted by spiderwoman

Series: Tom Holland Dad Imagines

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom and the reader go to an event a few weeks after Nova is born and Anthony doesn’t talk shit about Tom in an interview. He sees Tom and the Reader congratulating them.

Warnings: swearing cause why the FUCK not

Word Count: 1,500+

A/N:Why I make these kind of imagines more often is because when I was younger the chemo I had damaged parts of me and I won’t be able to have kids unless a miracle happens. I’m living my future vicariously through my imagines when I type these FYI..


[Reader’s POV]


“Now you have my phone number and Tom’s if you need to call either one of us, I will come back immediately if something happens..” your voice sounding worried at the thought of something happening to your daughter.


“Darling, Nova is going to be alright.. my cousin has it all under control she used to watch the twins and even Paddy” Tom gives you a kiss on your temple rubbing your exposed shoulders with his hands. He’s been trying to ease your nerves since you started getting ready earlier.


“I k-know.. this is just the first time I’m going to be away from her” your gaze looking at your daughter in her crib. Her little chest rising and falling as she slept.


“C’mon love, we can’t be late.. I want to stare at her too but we have to go.. everyone is excited to see you since you gave birth to Nova” Feeling Tom’s hand tug yours in the direction of the door. 


“See you later my little star” you whisper to Nova exiting the room with Tom. His hand felt warm in yours making you smile. Once at the bottom of the stairs he lifts your hand giving it a kiss.


“Let’s go have some fun and take advantage of it… we haven’t had a night with just the two of us since she was born and me working..” His lips press against your red matte painted lips. Opening the door he places his hand on your lower back.


“Goodbye you two have fun tonight!” Sydney calls out from the doorway as you make your way down the sidewalk to his car. 


    Opening the door for you so you could get in. Leaning down he pecks your lips before closing the door. He then gets in starting the car and pulling out of your neighborhood. Turning on the radio and ‘Shape of You’ comes on making you grin in excitement. The two of you singing along as you make your way to the venue. Tom holding your hand the whole way as he drove stroking your hand with his thumb.


-


    Fixing your dress as you step out of Tom’s Audi.  Tom lifts his hand out to you to take. Placing your hand in his he helps you up the step so you don’t trip on your dress. Closing the door behind you he hands his keys to the Valet. The man gestured towards the start of the red carpet that had security guards at the end of it.


     Cameras were flashing as the two of you made your way down the red carpet. Smiling as you see the familiar faces from the movies Tom has been in. Slinging your arm through the crook in his elbow holding him close. Tom was a natural but you still weren’t used to all the cameras.


“Tom look over here!” 


“Tom pose with her! Show off your gorgeous wife!” 


     A woman comes up to you and Tom with a cameraman  Her dress had a huge plunging neckline in the front of it. Examining her dress its tight and short as well. Her eyes were practically undressing Tom.The look of her made you feel slightly insecure.


“Tom can we have a moment with just you?” Her hand sliding down his right bicep stopping at his elbow.  Watching her touch Tom like that made your hand tighten on his left arm. Tom leans down giving your head a quick kiss. He moves his right arm knocking her hand off of his bicep. A small smack sound erupts from the skin on skin contact.


“Actually my wife and I do have a moment, what was your question?” He asks placing his hand over yours that was gripping his arm. The touch making you release his arm from your grip. He strokes your hand with his thumb making you smile.


“U-uh I wanted to ask how it’s like being away from home when you film” she regains her composure from Tom hitting her hand away.


“Its really hard because I have a family now, I have to be away from my wife and daughter so it isn’t great being away from the both of them.. No matter what though the best part is always coming home to them” 


“you have to be tired of -”


“Tom there you are! c’mon lets get away from this one, you should have seen the way she was acting with Chris and the others.. I mean seriously he has his wife with him” Zendaya sneers making the interviewer gasp at her comment.


“How dare y-”


“How dare I? You’re the one trying to make a move on a married man who’s at an event with his wife”  Zendaya grabs Tom’s left hand waving his hand in her face, showing his wedding ring to her. Tom lets out a laugh at Zendaya’s actions. The woman face was red from embarrassment at what was happening. Zendaya pulls out her phone pressing record. 


“Before they try and edit this interview just know this lady tried making a move on Tom in front of his wife that was right next to him.. Say hiiiii “ She points the camera over at the interviewer who tries to cover her face.


“You’re going to regret this” the woman seethes walking away flustered.


“Zendaya I love you” a laugh escapes your lips as she hugs the both of you.


“I mean Nova is my Goddaughter, I’m not letting anyone mess this family up” Her smile shining brightly, she’s stunning.


“We’ll met you over there in a bit, I just want to tell her something” Tom informs Zendaya giving your cheek a peck. Zendaya nods before turning away waving at us.


“What is it Tom, you ‘lright?” You ask looking at him with a puzzled look. He raises your hand to give it a kiss.


“Yes darling, I only have eyes for you.. please remember that, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve laid  eyes on and have brought my daughter into this world.. you shine bright as a diamond compared to that rubbish that attempted to make a move with me” his words making your eyes get watery, he knows just how to make you smile.


    Leaning down he captures your lips in a kiss full of love. Placing your hand on his cheek to pull him closer. Giving him one more kiss before pulling away. Flashes were going off making you blush knowing people were watching. Taking your hand in his he guides you along the red carpet.


    Anthony spots the two of us walking over. Tom has a huge smile on his face as he greets his co-star. They clasp hands pulling each other into a hug. You zone out as you look at all the people surrounding you. Harrison was running around taking pictures.


“Congrats man! Nova is so damn cute, you have to bring her to set one day.. got to show her who the coolest superhero is… aka me the Falcon” Anthony boasts nudging Tom.


“Since you guys are in town for a shoot I can bring her” you say causing Anthony to smile and fist bump the air.


“I get to change that little girls life” Anthony boasts doing a dance move earning a laugh from you.


“Oi you watch it mate, she’s going to love Spider-Man that’s final” 


“Besides that Tom, I’m just glad to see you happy man.. You fit the fatherly type,it looks good man.. you’re lucky to have such a stunning wife” Anthony sends a wink your way making you let out a nervous laugh. Stroking toms hand with your thumb and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.


“Hey she’s mine bird brain watch it” Tom warns laughing holding you closer to him. Even both of you had your doubts but the both of you knew how to blur those worries away.  Anthony gets pulled away from us by an interviewer with Sebastian.


“I only have eyes for you” you whisper kissing the spot right below his ear. He turns giving you a quick kiss.


“C’mon darling lets head inside,then after it’s over we can go see out little human” Tom smiles down at you sending a wink your way.


“I miss her already” you pout at the pang that erupts in your chest. The thought of Nova’s sweet face pops into your mind.


“ I do too love, now lets go and enjoy the night with everyone else” His arms wrap around you pulling you into his embrace. The feeling of happiness fills your soul at the contact. It was the best feeling in the world,life was perfect with Tom and Nova. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

vocaloids ranked based on how likely they are to suddenly appear in my kitchen at midnight and kill me

1. Megurine Luka

Not a single night passes where I fear that Luka will be waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs in my house, ready to immediately destroy me in a single hit. My life will not know peace until I am certain I am safe from her terrifying power.

2. Megpoid Gumi

Gumi also holds an immense power similar to Luka’s. However she is more likely to appear in other rooms of the house (say, the living room) and can be temporarily willed out of existence if ignored for long enough. I swear I have witnessed her manifesting in my basement on at least one occasion.

3. Hatsune Miku

Miku is naturally attracted to corporate brand products, which my kitchen is full of. I could have sworn I saw her manifest next to the cupboard once, only to immediately disappear. She has the highest chance out of any vocaloid to appear in my kitchen, but has little to no desire to actually kill me. The greatest threat she poses is manifesting in the same place as me, killing me in a way not unlike telefragging in TF2.

4. Kagamine Rin

Poses the smallest chance of ever appearing anywhere in my house, but poses a great threat if she happens to. May need to do some more research for the sake of reevaluating her ranking.

5. Kagamine Len

Poses no threat, even on the off chance if he were to show up. I don’t know any other vocaloids so the list ends here.

The Stilinskis’

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Stilinski!Reader x Stiles Stilinski



The first time Lydia Martin turned on your doorstep you stared at her like she’d grown a second head. Of all the people to come looking for you brother she was the last that came to mind. Hell Derek Hale had climbed into your room, mistaking it for Stiles’ room. The most awkward high school reunion ever.

“Hi (Y/N).” Lydia called as she let herself in. “I have dinner.” She smiled and tossed you the carrier bag of food which you caught and unloaded into the fridge.

“He started another list it’s upstairs and he’s started a document but I’m not sure what he’s researching.” You called as she jogged straight up to his room.

You closed the fridge and jumped, tossing a bottle of milk at Derek who looked at the bottle he’d caught. “What have I told you about sneaking into the house!”

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