condom wrappers

MORNING AFTER WITH EXO || Friends version

waking up next to your best friend after a drunk one night stand can’t be good… right?


★when he first wakes to see your sleeping naked form next to him he’s sit upright in horror
★after finding the condom wrapper on the floor next to his clothes he’d chill out
★he’d wash, dress then go out to the kitchen
★when you wake to an empty bed, you think the small flashes of memory from last night were just part of your dream
★but after a few minutes, coffee begins to spread it’s delightful aroma around your room
★you wrap yourself in your dressing gown and follow the scent to it’s source
★and looky here
★a minseok
★upon hearing your footsteps, he turns to offer you a small smile
★'i raided your cupboards to make breakfast’
★you’d laugh at how cute and chill he was
★moving to sit on the counter next to him
★he’d give you a mug of coffee and offer a plate of pancakes
★'so about last night…’ you looked over his face
★'from what i remember it was good. and it’s nice not waking up to chaos like at the dorm’
★you finished your coffee and set your mug down for him to refill
★'i’m surprised your still here’
★'you’re my best friend and you think it’d hit and run?’ he’d pout as he sat opposite you
★'isn’t that how one night stands work? you hit it and run?’
★oh boy you’ve set him off laughing
★'i’m more of a hit and make sure the lovely victim has my details. just in case’ he’d wink
★you two would spend the morning drinking coffee and talking about everything hes done while off on tour


★upset bub p.1
★you’d left after waking up
★only leaving a note for him
★so many questions would run through his mind
★would you ever want to talk to him
★should he call you?
★send you flowers?
★diddly darn he was stuck
★he ended up calling you
★'hi, i’m sorry if you’re upset with me’
★'myeon, i wanted to stay, but i had work’ you’d laugh
★'i thought you’d left because you were upset!’
★'not at all, i had fun last night’
★'i can pick you up after work and take you for lunch’
★'that sounds great’
★he would dress up nice and take you to a fancy ass place
★he’d treat you like a goddamn prince/princess


★baby boy would be so god damn fluffy
★like he’d just explode with warmth and love and giggles when he sees you sleeping next to him
★he’ll move his hand to your hair and play with the strands lovingly until you wake up
★'good morning, baobei’
★your little sleepy grunt in reply would make him giggle
★he’s pet your hair and hold you close until you’re fully awake to talk
★'should we wash and then go for breakfast?’
★'can’t we stay here longer?’
★'we can do whatever you want’
★cuddles upon cuddles upon cuddles
★and mindless chit chat
★how could cuddles in bed with this precious lamb be bad?


★you’d wake up before him
★you kinda just laid there for a bit debating what to do
★do you wake him
★or just leave??
★you decided to have a shower first
★and if he wasn’t awake when you were out, you’d write a note to him and leave
★so off you went
★halfway through washing your hair, the curtain was pulled back
★and this pup was just stood watching you
★you tried your best to cover yourself
★he just laughed and shook his head
★'you weren’t doing that last night. in fact, you couldn’t get your clothes off any quicker’
★'shut up baek’
★he’d just tease your mercilessly
★you turned the shower head to wet him
★which shut him up
★he kinda just stared
★which made you think he was mad
★but he suddenly just pushed into the shower with you
★'that wasn’t nice’ he’d pout, pushing you back against the wall
★'neither was leaving me bed on my own’
★'not my fault you wouldn’t wake up’
★'i worked hard last night i deserve a lay in’
★it would just be none stop giggles, kisses and cuddles for the day


★upset bub p.2
★he’d watch you sleep for a few minutes before dressing and going to eat
★he felt bad that your first time together was when you were both out of your mind
★as he was drinking his milk, he’d hear your foot steps
★he went full !!!!!! mode
★when you came into the room, he’d do his best to hide
★and by hide i mean he’s stood behind the curtains
★'i see you dae,’
★'dae? who’s dae? i know no dae’
★it would make you laugh
★which then caused him to grin
★'you’re not mad at me?’
★'what’s done is done’
★'i’m mad at me for not remembering. maybe we should have a repeat’ he’d wink
★'shut up’
★'yes captain’


★this poor guy
★he had it all planned out on what to do when the two of you woke up
★he’ll run you a bath, let you raid his wardrobe so you’re comfy then make you breakfast
★he’d straight up just have a stroke when he doesn’t hear you snoring
★are you deaD???////????
★it was supposed to be romantic and now he’d killed you
★oh no
★bless, his face would all be screwed up as he let his thoughts went mad
★you’re now staring at him with a confused look on your face
★'what are you thinking about?’ you’d ask with a laugh
★'how to bury your body’
★his little cheeks would be bright red
★his plans were blown
★'breakfast sounds really good, actually’
★his famous grin would sprout on his face before he leans in and kisses your head
★'eggs and bacon coming your way’
★he’d jump out of the bed in such a rush to cook
★that he ended up tripping
★and now he’s just curled up naked on your floor
★real good going, chanyeol
★'just come back to bed for a while. i’ll cook when i get up’
★he’ll dive right back in and nuzzle his face into your neck
★'it was supposed to go better’
★'i know, chan’


★v gentle
★11/10 would recommend
★but for real
★the most important thing is that you’re happy and that you’re comfortable
★you two could talk about what happened last night later on
★a shower and breakfast is more important
★so he kinda just shoves you to the bathroom to wash
★while he goes and works his magic in the kitchen
★probably cooks enough to feed the entire city because he’s nervous
★and actually doesn’t even know what your favourite breakfast food is
★when you enter the kitchen you just see all this food
★which you thank him for
★the two of you will eat
★then after your both full, the talk will come
★'how much of it do you remember?’
★'i remember seeing your stomach after all the teasing you did’
★'you buff up good’
★to which he’ll laugh 
★you’ll probably just turn the whole situation into a joke
★which always makes the others confused


★let’s be honest here
★this bub ain’t waking up
★so you’ll just grab your stuff and leave
★when he does wake up he’ll probably see your watch you left on the nightstand
★he’ll rush to your place to talk to you
★'you should’ve woken me up’
★'i could’ve walked you home’
★'did you leave because you were embarrassed?’
★so many questions
★he’d be so worried that it ruined your relationship
★you’d calm him down by patting his shoulder
★if you wanted to talk about it, you two would
★but if you wanted to put it behind you, you two would also do that


★would wake before you
★and just stare
★he’s in awe
★but he’s also really pissed off
★in awe because wow he just had really good sex with the person he holds most dear to his heart
★his thoughts were cut off by you groaning and stretching out
★you turned your head to see him and offered a sleepy smile before sitting up
★when you reached for your clothes, he’ll pull you back down
★and wrap his long limbs around you
★'stay for a bit’
★'we can go out for breakfast’
★it’ll be so nice????
★probs leads to you two blooming into the hottest couple around
★bc how could he not wake up to you every morning?????

Dirty Minded Cap*

Pairing Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only
Prompt: Hi there! I loved resolution! Can I request one where the reader usually wears contacts, but runs out and wears her glasses and Steve realizes he has a thing for the naughty librarian look? Total smut. (requested by @ballerinafairyprincess)
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected sex. [Sex is safer with a wrapper. Use condoms, folks.]
Author’s Note: I don’t take requests for the moment, but this one has been sent to me after I’ve started posting on this blog, so I thought I could write it and I actually like the prompt. Hope you like it too, though. xx

    You dragged your feet to the kitchen of the Avengers compound, setting a pile of files and books on the counter. Sighing, you reached for the coffee pot and poured yourself a mug. You hummed a long soft moan as you swallowed the hot drink and you leaned against the fridge, looking down and drinking until a certain famous Russian redhead came in.

    “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Natasha smiled and she poured herself a cup of coffee.

    “I woke up late and I didn’t have time to put in contacts.” You whined, clinging to the rest of the steaming hot liquid and you breathed it in.

    “You know what they say about men loving women wearing glasses,” she obviously quipped and you rolled your eyes playfully.

    “Yeah, of course. Everybody likes the nerd, right?” You chuckled and Steve walked in, joining Natasha behind the counter. “Hi, Steve,” you greeted, watching as his body tensed up when he heard your voice.

    “Y/N,” his smile faded away as he noticed the device perching on the top of the bridge of your nose. “Glasses? You told me you hate them.”

    “I do, but I had no choice. Nat will explain… Sorry, guys, I’ve got a lot of work waiting,” you took back your papers, walking past him with a smile. “See you later, Captain.”

    Keep reading

    Sweat [M]

    Pairing: Hoseok x reader x Yoongi

    Summary: It’s a hot summer day and your boyfriends have an unorthodox method of trying to keep you cool.

    Genre:  smut, pure smutty threesome, goodness, Poly!yoonseok

    Word Count: 

    Warnings: graphic depictions of sex, dirty talk, ice play

    Originally posted by rapmonsexpensivegirl

    The sun was already shining high in the sky when your eyes fluttered open. The overwhelming heat of the day had your shirt soaked to your skin. You groaned, reaching over to chug the glass of water on the table next to you. But the room temperature water wasn’t enough to satisfy your thirst. “It’s so fucking hot.” you mumbled as you slid off your mattress. The sheets were crumpled in a pile on the floor, somehow the 3 of you managed to kick them off the bed in your sleep. 

    You padded down the hallway and the familiar sounds of your boyfriends arguing rang through your ears. Yoongi and Hoseok were on opposite sides of the spectrum. Fire and ice. Water and oil. But there was something about you that brought the two of them together.

    Hoseok’s eyes immediately fell onto yours as you entered the living room, “Tell Yoongi you want to go to the beach today. He’s being a lazy ass and won’t let us go.”

    You chuckled, “The beach does sound nice, Hobi. But it’s probably going to be packed.” you squeezed his shoulder gently as you made your way to the fridge and out of the corner of your eye you could see him pouting. Clearly not happy that you were siding with Yoongi in this democratic household.

    “See, I told you she wouldn’t want to go.” Yoongi teased as he laid back down on the floor, a gummy smile spread across his glistening face. He stared at you with mischief in his eyes, but the thought of intertwining limbs in this heat sounded like the worst possible idea, no matter how hard he made you cum.

    You opened the door to the freezer, finding sweet relief in the blast of cool air rushing towards your skin. It was days like this when you cursed your boyfriends for letting them talk you into this place. Your apartment was beautiful, and you loved it, but it didn’t have A/C. So every summer the three of you wandered across the apartment in various states of undress, hoping that the lack of clothing encasing your skin will offer relief.

    Keep reading

    are you drunk, mrs. lahey?

    Originally posted by lovershub

    a night out with the girls takes a surprising turn of events, and isaac’s not likely to deny his wife what she wants. (humor/smut)

    Keep reading

    some Real Talk™ outsiders head canons

    -Ponyboy has woken up with boners more than a few times after some intense dreams about Ursula Andress while next to Soda. Out of embarrassment, he usually ends up sleeping on the couch the next night.
    -Soda has left condom wrappers in the back of Darry’s truck once or twice, and Darry really lays into him when he does it
    -UNTILLL one day Darry did the same (!!!) and Soda- heck, the whole gang- had an absolute field day teasing him about it
    -Darry blamed Two-bit when Ponyboy got drunk for the first time after their parents died and Darry only laid off when Ponyboy told him that he did it out of his own will and that it was his own choice that had nothing to do with Two-bit
    -Steve sometimes gets embarrassed over how often his dad kicks him out of the house, and instead of sleeping at the curtis’s, he spends the night in his car. Soda knows this and it drives him nuts that Steve won’t let him help.
    -Dally is honestly just as forgetful as Ponyboy; always losing his keys, wallet, sometimes a shoe in places but he’d never admit that he had miss placed something
    -Dally is Mr. “I knew it was there/ I meant to put in there”
    -Johnny blasts his radio in his bedroom when he’s tired of hearing his parents fight and yell
    -Steve once walked in on Johnny and Ponyboy practicing kissing girls on stuffed animals and he just slowly backed out of the room and none of them ever spoke about it again

    The key to love, my father told me, was to never love someone more than they love you. So when, after dating for five months, Christopher Moore was the first to say “I Love You”, I thought I had hit the “Love Jackpot”. I say this because, prior to him saying it at that very moment, I had never given thought to the possibility that I could love him in return. Standing in front of my apartment building, nervous and excited, facing him and his smile, I questioned whether love was the word to describe what I was feeling. High school love, after all, is quite trivial with it’s ins and outs. Nevertheless after weighing the theoretical pros and cons of love, I decided that I was in love, at least in some respects. He was handsome, smart, sweet, and I enjoyed his company. This is what I believed love boiled down to; four factors. Honesty, clearly, was something I overlooked. About a year and 7 months into our blissful love affair, after graduation had passed and we had spent the summer taking all the cliché couple pictures, Chris decided that he “just couldn’t go on lying to me anymore. “Jenine” he told me “this guilt is eating me alive!”. I imagine there wasn’t much of him left, as it had been “eating away at him” for 6 months. This is when I learned that there is no “key” to love; no guide, no tips, no 101 course, because love is lived and learned; never taught. Try as you may, to forgo the pain of love, you’ll find joy in knowing that it’s survive-able and moreover, sometimes the good outweighs the bad. No, Chris wasn’t the love of my life, but he gave life to my ability to love.

    “Never” my father said “let love override your faculty of reason.” Easier said, than done. My next love was Jeremy Bishop. Before you ask, of course there were others between Chris and Jeremy. But this is a story about love; not “almost loves”,“semi loves”, and “could’ve beens”. Jeremy’s love was the worst kind of love. The kind that doesn’t have a reason to exist but somehow it does and you’re glad. Its sole purpose is to debilitate your mind, forcing you to follow only your emotions. While Jeremy was dreamy, I learned that the man of your dreams can sometimes be the root of your nightmares.

    I met Jeremy my junior year at _________ University. It was a Sunday and I had been studying in the library for an anthropology midterm and decided that I would take a break. Putting my highlighter down & flexing my hand I stood up & headed towards the bathroom. As I walked through the stacks, passing my hand across the rows of books I’d never read, my friend Denise spotted me and waved me over. Walking swiftly I made my way to the table she was stationed it & gathered that she had been studying all day as all. Splayed papers, open textbooks, two highlighters, & her laptop with several window open screamed “cram session” to me. After having sat & talked for some time about school & it’s “scammagry”, I noticed that someone had taken a seat at the end of the table. You know those typical movies where two people look up at the same time & smile coyly at one another? Well that’s what happened with us…….minus the smiling. When Jeremy & I caught eyes it was more of an inquisitive stare down. I relented because who really stares at a stranger for lengths at a time? Apparently Jeremy does because every time I looked up he was looking at me or perhaps through me. Whatever the case was I asked Denise if she could “Excuse me for one second?” as I got up from my seat and sauntered over to Jeremy, running my fingernails along the wooden table that both separated and joined us.

    He was brown skinned but it was a rich brown that I often found myself lost in. He had brown hair that was cut low to avoid maintenance & also to spite his mother who so much loved it longer. His eyes were almost black they were so dark, yet you never asked someone to hit the lights when staring into them. He had a slight dimple on the right side of face that only presented itself in the presence of his mother, its creator.

    “I know you or something?” I said, to which he looked up & responded “No you don’t. But since you’re already here, I’m Jeremy. Nice to meet you….” he said moving his hand in that circular waiting motion “this is usually the part where you tell me your name”. He was sarcastic & forthcoming and I liked it. “This is usually the part when I’d say Jenine. My name is Jenine. Though I’m not sure it’s nice to meet you.” “Well Jenine, do you have HIST 256 on Mondays & Thursdays? I think that’s where I’ve seen you before.” “Well Jeremy, had I known you were a stalker I would’ve stayed at the other end of the table” “A stalker Jenine? Really? I think you’re mistaking my keen eye for details.” “I stand corrected then. I just had no idea I was noticeable to your "keen eye”, I said, making air quotes. He leaned in & said, “Maybe Jenine, just maybe there’s a lot of things you don’t know. I’d be happy to fill you in though. If you were ever free.” “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me, Jeremy, that you’re asking me out.” “It seems that way, because it is that way. But enough with this, would you be interested in going out?” “I’ll contemplate it.”

    A week later Jeremy picked me up in his beat up silver 2010 Toyota Corolla. Got out & offered to close the door for me not because he was a gentleman but because I literally couldn’t close it myself. He told me he wanted to show me his favorite place in all of Brooklyn. We drove for about 15 mins and parked in DUMBO; my favorite place. As we walked to the pier he barraged me with every menial question from favorite color to top five movies. I stopped his questioning because I realized I knew nothing about him. “What about you?” I said. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” “I’m a Taurus. Now back to you.” “Your sign. You gave me the third degree and in return you tell me your astrological sign??” “I’m really not that interesting. I kind of just go with the flow nothing special really.” “I could say the same about myself but you don’t see me spewing monotonous facts about myself” “That’s just it though. You’re very interesting. I see you twice a week & you never look the same to me. Always a different hairstyle, new lipstick, different outfit. You keep me guessing & well…I like that.” “Different outfit…Did you expect me to have the same clothes on like a cartoon character?”

    Jeremy took my clothes off the way he took down my walls; slowly & intently. I never felt exposed or vulnerable. It was easy with him & who doesn’t like easy? The first time we had sex he kissed every scar and stretch mark on my body while he whispered beautiful and for the first time I believed it. This is when I knew I loved him; this is when I knew he loved me. We fell into a routine & inevitably, that’s how we fell apart. We saw each other four-five times a week in between work, school & our respective friends. I’d meet him after work or he’d meet me after class, we’d get some food or I’d cook, we’d talk, then go back to his dorm room or my house & somewhere in between there we’d fuck once or twice & that would be that. Talk, Eat, Fuck, Repeat. This, I should inform you, was the foundation for our dismantling. Jeremy grew tired of our monotony, I suppose, & because of that he started talking to a female customer who had “just so happened” to frequent his job. In talking they “just so happened” to find they had “so much in common” & somehow Jeremy’s dick “just so happened” to be in her mouth when I walked into his dorm room to get the spare phone charger I left there just in case. “Oh Mahh Gahhhh” is what Celeste said with his dick slighty tucked to the left side of her mouth because it wouldn’t have been polite to pull it out all together; though I’m sure there was no God she could ever call her own. Startled yet surprisingly indifferent I found my charger in the first drawer of his night stand now decoratively arrayed with ripped condom wrappers and I closed the door behind me.

    Walking out of the apartment I didn’t feel anything but when I reached the stairs it hit me and when Jeremy came running out of his room, pulling his boxers up I looked up at him from the top stair I was sitting on & hit him right in the groin. “Shit! Ahh! Damn, J! Come on!” he winced . “Come on?? Excuse me?!? You’re such a fucking dickhead. Like what the fuck?” “I know. I know. I’m sorry babe. You gotta believe me! I swear it’ll never happen again.” & that’s what I wanted to believe after all; that this was just a bump along our road; that we could get through this because we could get through anything. So when Jeremy crouched down in front of me, put his hand under my chin, looked me right in the eye and told me he was “so sorry”, that he “really loved me”, that he was “mad stupid for doing that” I believed him & gave us another chance because I wasn’t ready to admit failure.

    Celeste Soto was the average full figured broad who just “couldn’t help” falling for other women’s boyfriends, husbands, fiancés, you name it. Walking back into his room, I found her putting her left shoe on with one hand on his desk for balance. “You gotta believe mama” she said “I didn’t know he even had a girl. You feel me? I wouldn’t have done anything with him. Thas crazy disrespectful. My bad.” as she adjusted her bra strap and pulled her hair into a messy bun. Turning slighty towards Jeremy, I looked at him as if to say “really?!? THIS was the best you could do??” and he lowered his head, and stared at this one spot on the carpet that he could never get out. Not only had Jeremy cheated but he chose the lowest of women to do it with. “First of all, I’m not one of your friends so I don’t know why you’re calling me "mama” & no I don’t “feel” you nor do I intend to. Get your shit and get out!“ When she was gone I searched the apartment for remnants of her presence, prior to that days visit. An earring, a hair tie, maybe a lip balm. I found nothing or maybe I wasn’t really looking.

    For eight months straight Jeremy was on his BEST behavior. He’d let me know where he was at all times as to ensure that he wasn’t out cheating; send pictures as proof on some occasions. I have to admit, though I was secure in his whereabouts, I was also sure that this was not how healthy relationships works. Nevertheless I looked forward to each notification because afterall "once a cheater……"you know the rest. One night I went over to his place to cook dinner, partially to ensure he wouldn’t be feeding Celeste or any other girl his penis but also because this is what I missed most about us. I had become so preoccupied with deciding whether or not I could trust him that I wasn’t concerned with trying to make us seem normal. After dinner we were in his bed tearing at each other’s clothes & after switching positions five times he looked down at me & said "I can’t do this”. Looking back at him I said “it’s cool I wasn’t feeling it either honestly”. “Not this” he said falling to my side, facing the ceiling “I mean like this….us”. Somehow though I knew that was what he had meant. This ball of something akin to both fear & anger welled up in my throat & grew until finally all I could say was “oh”. One tear fell from my eye & couldn’t allow myself to shed another. “This whole time” he said getting up from the bed “I wasn’t with you because I wanted to be. I was with you because I didn’t want to let you down.” He was pacing back & front at the foot of the bed, lifting his hands to his head then retracting them, looking over at me occasionally for assurance of my understanding. So he continued "I couldn’t let your last image of me be somebody who betrayed you. I had to prove you wrong & that’s selfish. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be in a relationship I’m not fully committed to. It isn’t fair to either of us J & you can hate me but I’d rather you hate me for being honest.” “Is this a joke? Please tell me you’re kidding right now” I said, half laughing half crying. “Let me get this straight” I said, sitting upright in his bed, pulling my shirt over my head “You cheated…..You lied…..YOU fucked up….You begged for another chance!…and my stupid ass gave you one. I’m just so lost right now.” This is when I realized I never should have sat on those steps & cried. I should’ve ran out of that building like it was on fire because guys like him will always burn you.

    Some nights I could still hear his footsteps pacing the floor & I’d wonder when in the hell it would be over. When I’d stop crying; when I’d realize I was better off without him. But there’s this moment & I know it sounds cliche but you just wake up & you feel different you feel like you can begin again. One morning I woke up and knew Jeremy would never have a hold on me the way he did before, but more importantly I didn’t want him to.

    The thing about baggage is that you never realize how much of it you carry around. In fact you assume that more often than not you don’t carry any at all because you’re “over it” or you’ve “moved on”. You’ll find yourself compromising because you just want someone to call at night; that wants only you. “Trust me.” my mother said “There will be others and don’t think that you have to look for them or that you have to settle.” My mother had a way with words. I’m not sure if that’s necessarily a good thing but the fact remains that when she said those words to me I wished she had kept her opinion to herself. I would never settle…..or at least I didn’t think I would.

    I knew I didn’t love Benjamin the first time he came inside me & I wished I had never come to his apartment, let alone into his room splayed with dirty laundry that he was “gonna get to”. More importantly I knew I couldn’t love Benjamin, not the way I wanted to at least, when he told me I’m just like my mother. This sounds stupid I know, but let me explain.

    After a week of working overtime, my best friend Selene dragged me out of my apartment for a night of bar hopping. Upon walking into our third stop, Benjamin grabbed my hand & told me I was pretty. That was it. There was no drawn out conversation, no playing hard to get, it was very low stakes. I gave him my number & before I got to the next bar he had called & asked when he could see me again. “Tomorrow” I said.

    The next evening Benjamin showed up at my apartment with no plan other than to show up. We decided to see a movie.

    The movie we saw doesn’t matter. Neither does the fact that we went to the movies. What matters is that after we left the movies, Benjamin grabbed both my hands & kissed me. When he stopped & I looked up at him he said “You taste like stale popcorn”. I thought “what the fuck?” & then he reminded me that we shared a popcorn. Our entirely relationship was like this; constant reminders of things I should have been aware of.

    Ben was different from Jeremy because he never lied to me. That doesn’t necessarily mean that’s a good thing though. His honesty was one that I had to grow accustomed to. We had been dating for about two months, when I called him asking if he wanted to get dinner later & he simply replied “no”. No explanation, no rain check, no apology; he just hung up. Later he’d text me & say that we should get breakfast instead the next day because he liked being the first person I talked to in the morning. He never hid anything from me. Girls would text him, telling him how much they “missed him” how much “fun” they used to have & he’d show me his phone while laughing & ask what I thought he should say in his reply. It was almost inconceivable, how much he included me in his decisions when it came to other women. Co-workers would invite him out to dinner & drinks after work, over to their apartments, concerts & he would ask me, not if he could go (because he was going to do what he wanted regardless) or if I wanted to come with, but how I’d feel if he went it with them. We’d be waiting for our heart rates to drop back to normal after sex; our skin still dewy and tingling and he’d say “the last time was better” or “you faked it, but that’s cool” as he got up and ambled to the bathroom & I’d wonder if he had to be so honest with me all the time.

    I woke up one day to him sitting at my kitchen table in just some sweatpants, signing a card. Next to him there was a huge bouquet of sunflowers. I walked over to him, fixing my bed hair into a bed bun & when I sat down he was startled. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early” he said & I looked over at the clock on microwave. “It’s after 11……does that even count as early?” I said. He looked up at me, then at the clock, then back at me & shrugged “I guess not”. I asked “Who’s the card for?” & as he sealed it, he handed to me & said “Happy Anniversary Sweetness” with no inflection. My face dropped to the floor, along with the card. “An anniversary?” I thought “have we really been dating a year? Maybe it’s like a six month anniversary? But that’s not even an anniversary!” After a few mental “Fuck!!”’s, I pulled myself together, awkwardly smiled as I picked up the card & opened it. It had been a year since I moved into my own place. In the card he wrote about how happy he was for me; that he knew how big of a deal it was for me to live on my own & he wanted me to know that it was just as important to him. I cried out of relief. He thought I was overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, primarily because as I closed the card, hugged him, wiped my tears and sniffled into his neck, I whispered “Thank you. This means a lot.”. One year of independence; something I should have been aware of.

    The first time he told me he loved me, I opened my mouth to respond & he placed his index finger on my parted lips. “Stop” he said. “Not everything I say deserves or should be met with a response Jenine. I love you. That’s it.” I of course flew into defense. “So I can’t say it back? I can’t love you in return? What kind of bullshit is that Ben? You can’t just say something like that & expect me not to say anything back.” “I never said you can’t say anything back. But think about it baby, I said I love you & your first instinct was to respond. You didn’t even really take the moment in. That’s what I’m saying. I don’t want you to love me back because I love you. I want you to love me because you actually love me.” I felt little, like a child, like I had been put in my place, handled, dealt with, but I wouldn’t let him know. “You’re such an asshole sometimes” I said “but that Benjamin, for your information, is why I love you. Because you’re only an asshole sometimes”.

    There are two important things I remember from when I broke up with Ben:

    1. It was raining.
    2. He told me I should’ve ended us a long time ago.

    I came back to the apartment from the gym. As I shook my umbrella walking through the door, Ben sauntered by in his usual attire, house sweats and no shirt, saying “You must love mopping.” in a condescending tone. I happily returned the tone saying “Definitely. I just love it! Can’t get enough.” as I rolled my eyes and the umbrella up, fastening it shut. I walked over to the kitchen & checked the fridge. All that was left was this chicken Parmesan “thing” I had attempted to make three days earlier & it looked like a big pile of mush at that point. I chucked it & decided that take out sounded good. I had a taste for some pad thai so the choice was easy. Picking up my phone & dialing the number I thought it might be a good idea to ask Ben what he wanted but I figured he’d eat whatever I ordered him. So I made the call, ordered Chicken Pad Thai and another peanut sauce dish with shrimp, and hung up. As soon as my phone had ended the call, Benjamin started an argument. “Why would you order food without asking me what I wanted?” he asked me walking out of the bedroom and I replied “I ordered food for us both. No need to say thank you”. He walked towards the window to look out but really it was all dramatics because our window looks directly at the alley behind our building that holds nothing but two dumpsters and a few forgotten cats. “Why would I say thank you to you for doing something I never asked you to do?” he said with his back turned to me “Sometimes” he scoffed, almost laughing, as he looked at the rain collect in the window sill. “Sometimes I don’t get you. Like after all this time you still do shit that irritates me and I wonder why the fuck I still want to lay next to you at night or wake up with you in the morning.” I was sitting on the sofa, absentmindedly playing with the tag on this pillow I bought two years before when he & I had just started dating. He told me the pattern on it reminded him of us; that the lines never intersected. They just changed direction. “Nobody is holding you here Ben. You can leave anytime you’d like.” I said as I picked up the remote & turned on the television.

    Thirty-five minutes later I was annoyed that the food hadn’t arrived but also because Ben never left the window. He just stayed there staring at the rain while it sheeted down the window screen and when thunder roared he’d just sigh. “What could be taking this food so long? The place isn’t even that far.” I complained. “It’s the rain Jenine. Everything slows when it rains. People, cars, buses, trains, bikes, they all slow.” He paused “You also might want to factor in the idea that a bunch of people order take out on a night like this.” I answered back “I knew that!……why are you always telling me things as if I don’t know them? As if I’m not aware? It’s just annoying. You’re annoying.” Ben walked away from the window & towards the kitchen counter. He planted his two hands palm down on the counter, hoisted himself up to sit on it, looked at me & said “Maybe it’s not me that annoys you Jenine. Maybe you can’t admit that I’m ever fucking right! I can’t ever make a point without you saying “I knew that!”. If you knew it Jenine…..then why would you say half the shit you say or do half the shit you do.“ I paused the lifetime movie I had been somehow become invested in and pressed a metaphorical "play” on the scene that was unfolding in our living room. “I don’t know Ben. Maybe you’re right” I replied as I sat up, crossed my legs and interlaced my fingers over my knee. “Maybe I can’t handle the fact that you make valid points. Or perhaps it’s the fact that you can’t ever let me be wrong without making me look like a complete ass. You’re always so philosophical. "Oh thee "all knowing Ben!” Ohh he who knows more than anyone!“ I mocked. "It’s insulting. For someone who is just so wise you damn sure don’t know how to do your own fucking laundry, or wash a dish, or aim your penis directly into the bowl when you pee. Stop with the bullshit. We both have our faults.” My phone rang. The food was downstairs.

    I threw on my worn out flip flops and shuffled down the 3 flights of stairs. Walking back into the apartment with food in hand, I saw that Ben had returned to the window. He walked over to the kitchen counter where I was standing, taking the food out of the brown paper bag & said “You said your ordered me food.” “I just ordered two things off the menu. I figured we’d just share.” I reasoned. “Right I get that but I don’t like peanuts. You know that. Don’t you? I’ve told you this. I’m sure I have as we’ve been together give or take I don’t know 2 & half years!” “Dammit! I whispered to myself. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking & I was hungry & I’m…..sorry. I’m just sorry.” “It’s fine” he said. “I should’ve just picked something up on the way home. It isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this. You’re like your mother in that way.” “Like my mother? All of this over some take out? Listen, good luck with dinner.” I said as I grabbed a plastic fork at the bottom of the bag & headed back to the sofa. “Yeah, like your mother.” he continued, following me. “You’re always complaining that she never listens to you; that you have to remind her of things you’ve already told her. Yet, here you are never listening to me. It’s not even about the apology. It’s that I just don’t think you’re really sorry at all.” he retorted. “Fair enough.” I said, putting my food down on the coffee table. “You wanna know what I’m really sorry about Ben? Huh? Fine. I’m sorry I moved in with you. I’m sorry I’ve been in this relationship for this long because we’ll never be good enough for one another. You know that right? We’re always going to be like this Ben.” I said, pointing at the pace between with both hands. “It’s never going to be enough that we love each other. There’s gotta be more to love than whatever the fuck we’re doing. I just don’t think this is healthy. I don’t think we’re growing here. Do you?”. “Now that J…that’s the most honest thing you’ve said to me. You’re always saying what you think I want to hear and that’s my problem with you. You never say what the hell you want because you think too much about it. We are growing, it’s just apart from one another.” He sighed, finally saying “Look, I’m tired.” as he walked exhaustedly back towards the bedroom, on an empty stomach & closed the door behind him. I couldn’t figure out if he meant he was tired of us, of the arguing, of never really getting back to how we were or if he was honestly tired.

    I slept on the sofa & I use the term “slept” very lightly. What I really did was stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out if this was really it for Ben & I. If that was our last real conversation; if that even counted as a conversation. I planned out what I’d say in the morning after we’d both had time to think & reflect. I’d tell him I was sorry about going off & that it’s not that I don’t want to try to make it work but that I don’t even think trying is worth an actual try. I thought about it & felt like the whole relationship was a perpetual “try”. We’d just kept getting up, dusting each other off, & holding hands until we’d fall again thinking it didn’t matter because we’d fallen together. How many times do you have to fall before you realize that perhaps it isn’t the ground that’s tripping you up? That it might just be you. Do you have to scrape your knees a few times or fall flat on your face? How do you know when you’ve had enough?

    I laid there falling in & out of sleep. I had this weird dream that I was baking a cake. I kept checking on it. Ben was there but he didn’t really say much. Finally I took it out of the oven & it was burnt around the edges. He shuffled over to the stovetop & looked at the cake with a somber face. “I told you it was done 10 minutes ago. You should’ve taken it out.” he said & I just stared at him blankly because he was right. I turned the pan over and the cake popped out. I let it cool, frosted it and cut a piece. Jeremy hunched over the counter top and watched me put the cake on a plate with confusion. “You’re just going to eat a burnt cake?” he questioned me. I had just taken my first bite and was going in for a second when I looked up at him and said “It still tastes good so what’s the difference?”. “The difference, Jenine, is that you know the whole cake doesn’t taste good. Only certain parts do. Why don’t you just throw it out and make another one?” he said walking over to the cake, lifting the plate up at different points and angles to get a good look at it. It was as though he was wondering how the frosting did anything but make the cake look even sadder. I licked the last bit of frosting off my fork and said “Because, burnt or not burnt, I still love cake.”

    I woke up to a sliver of sunlight shining through the living room across the floor & stopping right at the front door. I sat up & checked the time. It was 7:06. I decided I’d go to the bedroom and get some real rest. I stood up & stumbled towards the bedroom. As soon as I reached the door, Ben was coming out of the room. He was dressed & had 2 bags with him not including the backpack he’d never leave the house without. All of the things I had planned on saying were forgotten. I could barely see straight, let alone gather the words I wanted to say. He looked at me then said “Sorry. Can I just get by?”. “Sure!” I blurted out as I moved to the left, almost jumping. He walked towards the front door & I asked “Umm can at least ask where you’re going?”. He stopped moving and turned, telling me “I thought about what you said J. About us not being enough for one another. I guess I just always thought it would work itself out. But I see what you mean. I don’t know the exact moment when you came to that conclusion, or maybe you decided it, but you should’ve ended us then instead of now. So I’m leaving. I guess I’ll pick up the rest of my stuff over the next couple of weeks.”. That’s it. He was gone. Whatever he had left, the “stuff” he mentioned, was never picked up. They were minuscule items really; a toothbrush, some body wash, a value pack of razors. Things that made you think of him, even though they were all replaceable. It didn’t take long for me to realize that much like the burnt cake, I still loved Ben.

    To be continued or whatever…….

    Car Sex Can Be Romantic

    Summary: Dan and Phil have their first time in the back of a car. Trust me, it’s more romantic than it sounds!

    Word Count: 2,656

    Warnings: There shouldn’t be any but if one of you guys see one let me know please!

    Some General Tags: Pure smut, slight daddy kink, first time, size kink for like two seconds, and pastel and punk themes (but not directly stated). 

    Authors Note: It’s 11:00pm where I am, I have an essay due tomorrow at 8am, and I got stressed from writing it so I wrote this instead! And trust me, I would much rather be writing this than a 7 page essay on Plato and Socrates. But anyway, It’s not very long, it’s pure smut, and it might have some typos. Enjoy it nevertheless! Happy reading! :)

    Keep reading

    Castaway {ACOTAR/Chapter 11}

    Word Count: 3,477

    Summary:  A modern-day University AU, from the A Court of Thorns and Roses universe. All characters belong to Sarah J. Maas. The idea for this fanfic hailed from prompts sent in by Anonymous, and @queen-archeron. You can read previous chapters here.

    Author’s Note: All the amazing feedback I’ve gotten for this fic has been completely overwhelming (in a really, really great way). I’m going to be posting two chapters a week from here on out. I haven’t decided how many chapters I’m going to make this. Originally, it was 15, but I think I may extend it to 20 (we shall see). Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! As always, I would love to know what you think. :)

    ***Warning: (slightly) NSFW

    Originally posted by loveviral

    To the girl I used to be,

    Today I felt something. I’m not sure what it was, but it was better than the numb void.

    Today, for the first time in a while, I felt like it was going to be okay.



    The girl I am now


    Elain had never felt so nervous.

    But she’d also never felt so free. So brave. So ready. So in want, in need of something.

    And from the moment Azriel’s hands had found the back of Elain’s thighs, and had hoisted her up so that her legs were wrapped around his waist, Elain had no doubt in her mind that she was ready for it.

    Ready for him.

    She was amazed at his agility, at the way he carried her up three flights of stairs with no issues. At the way his lips stayed held against hers the entire way up.

    They reached his apartment and Azriel fiddled the door open without having to put her down, and it wasn’t until after he kicked the door open with his thick, clunky boot, that he removed his lips from hers. “Cass?”

    The only being who answered was Shadow, with a soft meow.

    They were alone.

    Azriel’s hazel eyes met Elain’s honey brown, and her breath halted as she realized what he was asking, without having to say any words at all.

    Elain gave him a subtle nod, before running her hands through his hair, and pressing her forehead gingerly against his. “Please,” she asked, a careful plea.

    Keep reading

    senior syndrome

    pairing: marcus flint x oliver wood

    setting: modern, non-magical, college vampire au

    word count: 3,131 

    written for: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @bunimalsfiberdolls !!!!!!! 

    notes: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

    Marcus wakes up thirsty.

    He blinks, scrubbing at the corners of his eyes. There’s a suspiciously crusty stain on the inside of his bedspread; it isn’t white, but it’s not not white, either. He doesn’t know which pledge had laundry duty last week, but he thinks it was probably Goyle. Goyle always forgets to add detergent. Possibly, Goyle isn’t actually aware he’s supposed to add detergent.


    Marcus rolls over. His tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth, and his throat feels dry and rough and a little like he might’ve accidentally gargled paint thinner. A strange burning sensation is piercing his gut; if he concentrates, he can almost trace it back to a gently pulsating spot between his tonsils.  

    Swallowing hurts.  

    Swallowing hurts a lot.  

    He vows not to try that again, and then idly wonders if he’s getting sick. That would suck. Hooch is picking captains at the end of the week, and Marcus would really enjoy stripping that fuzzy felt “C” off Wood’s jersey. Especially now. Especially after three months of silence and stupid passive aggressive Snap stories featuring way too many fishing boats. And lakes. And sad, ugly, shirtless Canadian bros who definitely didn’t need to, like, molest Wood so thoroughly.  


    Marcus’s stomach rumbles.

    He instinctively swipes at his teeth with the tip of his tongue.

    Keep reading

    Are the expiration dates on the condom box and the wrappers supposed to be the same?

    Someone asked us:

    Condoms have an expiration date printed on the box and the foil wrap, should they match, or are they different dates?

    The expiration date for a batch of condoms should be the same on the wrappers and the box they come in. The reason the date is printed on the box is so that distributors and stores can make sure the packs of condoms they’re selling haven’t expired. And obviously the dates are printed on the wrappers too, because people might throw away the box or only carry a few condoms at a time.

    If you do encounter a box of condoms with different expiration dates on the wrapper, you can contact the company to make sure they didn’t make a mistake. But if the date on the wrapper hasn’t passed yet, the condoms are still good.

    -Kendall at Planned Parenthood


    A short silly fic, a few days late for kagehina day, featuring a familiar ratty old sweater <3 

     It happens like this every winter.

    It’s not like they don’t have sweaters to spare. Hinata has hundreds, it seems, sagging on hangers and folded on shelves and pouring out of the bottom of the closet, and Kageyama’s supply is far from lacking, so he doesn’t understand, really, why year after year when the cold weather creeps in, this has to start up all over again.

    This being: the sweater hunt.

    Keep reading

    mulders-boyish-enthousiasm  asked:

    How would Scully react to Mulder dropping a condom wrapping in the office?

    not fucking well, dude. i just realized this wasn’t in the office, sorry!

    set… post one son.


    She misses him. This detail is what sometimes turns that steady simmer of annoyance – always present, even on their best days, it’s just elemental to feel whittled and weakened by him, just as it is to feel his necessity – into a rapid, unforgiving boil. And she loathes it as much as he does. This anger wears her down. This anger makes her stupid. She is weighed by it, can’t control it. And when she misses him, it’s even harder to rationalize.

    But how could she not miss him? Mulder rewrites everything she has ever known about companionship. There is a seeking missile in him that works and works to pinpoint all that Dana Scully is missing in her life, and then it works to fill it.

    And he is sweet. Oh, he is sweet. The gentler side of Mulder is actually all grit: the sandpaper of it smooths her out, those rugged, wary edges of her oscillating mistrust. He doesn’t listen. He never listens. He is his own first thought when he wakes up and he is the one he falls asleep to. He betrayed her. But he helps her with her coat at the end of a long work day. He is patient with her, does not take her resentment for granted. He is a shock-absorber for her bitterness. A continent-jumper, all in her honor. He carries on with his half of their partnership as if nothing had changed, his unshakable optimism imploring her that it really hadn’t. He flirts with her. He fights with her. He gets her coffee right.

    But this morning he takes it further. She begins to wonder how deep her hostility cuts him – she begins to worry. He comes into the office in a rumpled suit, his face unshaven. He downs aspirin and coffee in three hour intervals. It had been almost a year since she had seen him this disheveled, back when he had nothing to believe in.

    Except for her.

    He clings to her. In every other way but physically, finds a million different things to talk about, fills up even the healthy silences with his rambling chatter. “Scully?” he asks. Every time she takes too long to answer. “Scully?” And that total relief when she looks up to reply. He stays in the basement for lunch, eats nothing, when she tells him she brought her lunch with her. Follows her when she checks on results from the print lab. She’s annoyed, but mostly bewildered. Then there’s the physical. His hand on her back, yes, but her shoulders, too, her wrists. It bothers her that she doesn’t mind it so much. She can’t remember the last time she really had to take care of Mulder.

    “Are you alright?” she runs her hand through his hair. She misses that, too. He looks up at her, startled, but quickly molds his face into something more neutral.

    “Just not feeling well, Scully.”

    She doesn’t press. She’s too doubtful of her place in Mulder’s life too often, these days. But she does let him cling. She softens her voice when she speaks to him. She doesn’t brush him off, she let’s go of all of the hurt, at least for the day. He seems more than grateful for it, almost to the point of awe. It bothers her… that she doesn’t mind it so much. That she needs to be needed like this.

    At the end of the day, they’re putting on their coats. Their quiet is easy and Mulder, for the most part, appears recuperated. He drapes her in her wool, like always, keeps his hands on her for a little longer than necessary. She waits for him while he slips into his suit jacket, figuring they might as well ride out together.

    “I was thinking… about those prints they lifted from the victim’s car. There’s something off about the sebaceous composition. The lab says they’ve never seen it before.” She lets him lead her to her car in the bustling garage, handing out her peace offering without the hint of a smile.  “Why don’t you come over and explain to me why that means it couldn’t possibly be terrestrial in nature?”

    His face lights up. God, damn him. She feels like she’s been kicking a puppy in the same tender spots for months and months. “Scully, I thought you’d never ask.” He reaches into his pocket for his own keys. “I’ll bring pizza. You still eat that, right? If you think I’m going to argue with a Dana Scully fueled on nothing but coffee and granola – shit.” Not paying attention, his keys fall to the ground with a metal splatter.

    “Here, let me – “ she bends down to scoop them up, but freezes when her eyes hit the concrete.

    That dark, primordial filth inside of her, the rigid tension in her protoplasm. She blacks out, like she always does. In these moments she only has the capacity to feel everything wrong. She slowly picks up the keys, and the empty condom wrapper along with it.

    “Scully,” Mulder says. “Scully.”

    He uses too many words. The details of an event write themselves on his face so plainly. In ruined seconds she pieces out, from his guilty, avoidant eyes and the slowness with which he forms his thoughts, what happened, who it happened with. A full case report with only a mental photograph. Her grip around the keys and wrapper tightens, but he won’t take them from her. So she lets them fall back on the floor.

    She never remembers what it’s like to hate someone this much. What inspires a woman to run her lover over with her car, empty out her gun into his heart, play in the meat left over. She’s in her car before she knows it, yanking the door out of his hands with less force than she meant for. In that moment, she doesn’t miss him.

    Ice Cream Buddies: Connor Murphy x Reader

    hi!!!! i forget who requested this. very vaguely inspired by the song “she” by dodie!!! death mention and one very brief like hint at suicide. enjoy :)

    Connor liked you. More than that, he couldn’t get his mind off of you. When he was in class and you were sitting a few rows in front of him, he thought of you. When he was at red lights, he thought of what you might be talking about if you were in the car with him. When he was in bed, he imagined impossible scenarios he might find himself in where he would ask you out and you’d say yes.

    So when you were complaining to him and Jared about the devastating lack of decent ice cream places nearby, the voice in his head was screaming tell her about À La Mode tell her about À La Mode tell her about À La Mode.

    “Yes, Jared, I know there’s Yogurtland. But it’s not the same.”

    “It’s a dairy product. It’s frozen. It’s sweet. It comes in a variety of flavors. I don’t see a difference.”

    “The difference, dumbass, is that frozen yogurt is trying to masquerade as something healthy. Ice cream is just unapologetically bad for you. It’s not trying to hide from you. Ice cream’s just doing ice cream.”

    “Y/N, if you would simply-“

    “Will you shut the fuck up?”

    Connor’s voice surprised him. He’d all but stopped speaking directly to you, for fear he’d say something wrong. Not that telling Jared to shut up was all that risky, but then you would probably say something to Connor and he would have to come up with something witty to say back to you.

    “See? Connor gets it. Frozen yogurt is full of lies.”

    “Y/N, I’m not arguing that frozen yogurt is superior to ice cream, but only that it is equal. And it’s more convenient since it’s, like, five minutes away.”

    “Y/N wants ice cream, dumbshit. Not frozen yogurt.”

    “Yeah! Connor and I are gonna go get ice cream. Right now. Without you.”


    “You heard me. Come on.”

    Connor looked at you like he didn’t believe you. You tugged on the hood of his jacket until he got up, and pulled him by his hand down the hallway. He turned to flip off Jared, his other hand still in yours.

    “So, do you actually, like, know anywhere can go?”

    Tell her about À La Mode tell her about À La Mode.

    “No. You’re right, there aren’t any.”

    You became suddenly aware of the fact that you were still holding hands.

    “Oh. Well then, could you just drop me at home then?”

    “Yeah. Sure. No problem.”

    You dropped his hand. Neither of you said anything.

    He was worried about what you were going to think of his car. It was a mess. It reeked of weed and he threw everything he didn’t want to deal with into the backseat. Food, beer cans, homework. Jared found a condom wrapper back there once and never let him hear the end of it. But you knew that Connor had let Zoe borrow his car, and the wrapper ended up there. Connor had told you. He was mortified and disgusted and a little saddened by it. It was just that you smelled so nice and you always looked so good that Connor knew you didn’t like messes. He bit his tongue.

    “Hey, I, um, I actually do know one place. It’s kind of a drive though.”

    He held his breath. If you said no, he’d have to tell you that it was fine, even though he really wanted to take you there. And that meant something. It was one of those places he hadn’t been in years, that was only filled with good memories and that he didn’t want to touch because he might mess it up. But if you would go there with him it wouldn’t ruin it.

    “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

    He smiled at you.


    He thanked God under his breath when you didn’t comment on the state of his car when you got in. There were crumbs and a bag from 7/11 on the seat, but you just brushed them off and threw the bag in the back. Connor handed you the aux cord as he reversed out of the parking lot.

    “Really? You trust me this much?”

    He laughed at that.

    “Go ahead. Don’t disappoint me.”

    “Alright. Lot of pressure. I’m just gonna click shuffle and see what happens.”

    Of course it was Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. You were embarrassed until Connor started singing along.  

    “When I was, a young boy, my father-”

    “Hold the fuck up. Hold the phone, shut the front door, is Connor Murphy, king of being pretentious about only listening to obscure music, a closeted basic emo kid?”

    He laughed and looked away from the road for a second.

    “Okay, I was in seventh grade, and I was about as angsty as a seventh grader can be. I thought they were the only people that got me.”

    “Stop. That’s literally exactly why I have this song.”

    “God, why weren’t we friends then?”

    “I don’t know. Took us long enough.”

    He was quiet after that. It was a good quiet, though. You could tell that he was content. God knows you’d seen him at his worst, but that only made the good times better. It was a privilege; Connor didn’t let many people make him happy.

    So for nearly an hour you rode that way. You didn’t talk too much, because Connor didn’t really like to talk, but he let you play whatever music you wanted to and that was enough. Coming from him, that was everything. The highway eventually turned to a winding gravel road, the only sign of real civilization in the area.

    “Are you sure you’re not about to murder me? Like, do you actually know where this place is?”

    “Yeah. I know where it is. We used to come here all the time. And I’m not planning to murder you until later this week.”

    “Good. That’s good to hear.”

    He had perfected his deadpan delivery of sarcasm in a way you hadn’t. You could barely get the words out, and it made him smile. He loved making you laugh.

    Connor flicked the turn signal on at a gravel driveway, despite the lack of cars to signal to, and pulled into an abandoned strip mall. Above the entrances were patches of darkened cement, the only sign that civilization had touched the place after its construction.

    “This is it.”

    He turned the car off, cutting off your music, and unbuckled his seatbelt.

    “Really? It seems kind of-”

    The door slammed before you could finish. You followed Connor to the door, which was covered on the inside by torn brown paper. Posted on the glass was a poster that read “After 30 years of service, À La Mode has gone out of business. Thank you for your patronage.”

    Connor was quiet. You put your hand on his shoulder, and he stepped away. He stayed like that for a minute or so.

    “Sorry I dragged you all the way out here. We should probably get going.”

    He turned towards the car with his head down, pausing when you spoke.

    “Are you kidding? We can’t just go back. We drove all the way here. Come sit with me.”

    You sat against the curb, patting the cement until he reluctantly sunk down next to you.

    “What do you want to do?”

    “I don’t know. You said you used to come here all the time. What is there to do?”

    “Nothing, really. There was this orchard a few miles away. But it’s probably gone now and I don’t really feel like finding that out.”

    Mostly because you had no response to that, you let him sit quietly for another moment.

    “You know, we could scream right now.”

    “Y/N, what the fuck?”

    “I’m just saying. There’s no one around. We could actually scream right now and no one would know.”

    “Maybe later.”

    Shit. Some random comment would usually divert him from whatever was bothering him if it wasn’t a big deal. The only approach after that failed was to get him to actually talk about it, which he was rarely willing to do.

    “So when was the last time you were here?”

    “God, I don’t even fucking know. I was probably, like, twelve?”

    “With Zoe and your parents?”

    “Yeah. I never came with anyone else. My mom would tell me to invite a friend every time we went, but…”


    He let you rest your head on his shoulder this time. You didn’t want to push him, so you just stayed quiet and let him breathe and feel you near him.

    “Yeah, 12, that makes sense. After I stopped coming here everything kind of went to shit.”

    You lay your hand on top of his, and he stretched out his fingers so you could lace yours between them. He looked at you and smiled bitterly.

    “Hey, I think I have an eighth in my glovebox. Do you want to maybe-”

    “We’re not smoking, dumbass. You have to drive us back.”

    He laughed and pulled your hand closer to him.

    “Ah, Y/N, always taking care of me.”


    “You know I’d probably be dead if we weren’t friends?”

    “I think I have more faith in you than that, Murphy. You’re smarter than that.”

    “‘No, I meant, like…”

    “Yeah. I know.”

    He stared straight ahead for a while. He was thinking about the ice cream place, but more than that he was thinking about you, and how you stuck by him and got him to talk about stupid stuff like this. And how he couldn’t wait any longer.

    “Hey, I know there aren’t any, but if you ever found a good ice cream place in town, would you ever, uh, want to go with me?”

    “Yeah! Yeah, totally. We can be, like, ice cream buddies.”

    “Oh, no, I meant, like, um, like more than ice cream buddies.”

    “Like…a date?”

    “Yeah. I guess, yeah.”


    Connor prepared himself for the worst, for you to turn him down and laugh at the thought of him even imagining he had a chance with you. And for the inevitable wedge it’d put in your friendship, so you’d stop talking to him and then he’d just have Jared, who was an asshole and would probably side with you anyways.

    “Well, duh.”

    “Wait, really?”

    “Yeah. I like you. Dumbass.”

    “Oh. Well, me too then.”

    “You like you too?”

    He looked at you, confused, until you started laughing.

    “No. God no. Still working on that one. I mean, I like you. Like, a lot.”

    He pulled your hand to his face and kissed it so quickly you were unsure of if he’d really done it.

    “Did you just royal kiss me?”

    “What’s that?”

    “Stop, that’s adorable. You’re adorable.”

    “Am not.”


    He wiped your wrist with his free hand.

    “There. I took it back. Not adorable anymore.”

    “Nah, you still are. Connor’s adorable.”


    You started to lean in, but he was already there. It came so easily. You’d expected it to feel weird, since you’d been friends for the past year, but the kiss only felt like it was filling in a gap that had always been there.

    “So uh, we should probably get going. It’s late.”

    “You’re driving. Wanna go to Yogurtland?”

    anonymous asked:

    imagine the missus always got bullied from this girl during her school time. she'd say things like 'you're so pathetic, you're never gonna find someone.' and since then she always struggeled with her self esteem, thinking she was worthless. until H came around and changed her life. and now her old class would have a reunion and she'd bring harry and he wants to really show that b*tch whats going on, just making her jealous with her engagent ring, wedding plans... a makout session... please?🙄

    He’d dress extremely fancy– the nicest dark blue velvet suit he has with his Gucci leather dress shoes, his most expensive watch and his favorite Tom Ford cologne. His hair groomed and fluffed to perfection, his chin sporting just the slightest bit of scruff, just how he knows you like it.

    You’d compliment him, your heart swelling at the fact that he’d do this, all of it, just for you.

    “You look good enough to eat, Har.”

    Harry would smile softly, eyes twinkling with suggestiveness as he presses a gentle kiss to the center of your forehead. “Maybe later, sweetheart.”

    At the reunion, he’d shake everybody’s hands and introduce himself properly, working his charm to utter perfection and having your former classmates falling head over heels to chat with him.

    You marvel at how smooth and easy-going Harry appears under the situation, talking and joking with everyone so flawlessly it’s as if he’d known them for as long as you had.

    And the whole time, he has a protective arm looped across your hips, keeping your body close to his so that everyone can see how proud he is to have you as his fiancée.

    Your nemesis is seething quietly, the corners of her mouth dipping down ever so slightly but not evident enough for everyone else to notice because they all seem to be getting along with Harry without catches or obstacles, so blatantly showing her dislike would make her the runt of the event.

    Talk of your engagement eventually comes around and Harry is falling over himself to tell the love story of how you two came to be. During the whole tale, his eyes are alight with affection and the giddy smile never leaves his face, the way he depicts you as a “right angel with a smile brighter than her halo” makes all the girls around you swoon.

    At one point he tightens his arm around you, turning his head to gift you a soft smirk and, “She was such a proper good girl when I met her. Turns out she’s a devil in between the sheets.”

    Keep reading

    Love On The Brain (m) || Prologue

    ∟ The Kim’s were a household your own family spoke of constantly but never in fond terms. They were deceitful, cunning and liars to the grave. Yet, when you meet Kim Namjoon, you find all these accusations to be anything but true. Still, if it pleased your family, you would keep your distance-and you tried. It was meant to be a one time deal, a quick fix for instant relief but as the weeks turn to months, you find yourself unable to stay away.

    ・namjoon x reader
    ・mob au; angst, smut, romance
    warnings: semi-public sex
    ・ word count: 2,347

    next part: one || Masterlist

    Namjoon guides you to the dingy bathroom in the back corner of the nightclub, the lights of the small space dim and the floors questionably clean. You go with him, allow him to crowd you back against the stall door, eyes flickering down to watch as he slips the lock into place, as if sealing you both away from the outside world if only for the next ten minutes or so. It’s quiet, nothing but the soft sounds of breathing as he stands before you, a solid form dressed in dark jeans and a tight black shirt. The material, cotton you think as you reach forward to grasp it between your thumb and index finger, feels soft, pleasant to touch. You allow your mind to focus on the feel, easing the hint of anxiety that comes with these secret meetings before slowly drifting your gaze back up to meet his own.

    Keep reading

    Dare | Taehyung

    Scenario: I’ve been dared to buy 20 condoms on the same night the cute cashier is working a shift.
    Genre: Fluff and (I tried for some) Humor.
    Word Count: 2,119


    Your feelings on how the night has progressed so far can be pretty much summed up in a single word: fuck—and that barely does anything to encompass the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment and apprehension that fills your blood.

    Keep reading

    Pay Back.

    A/N: Sorry this was so short. I’m drowning in requests rn. I’m going to close them for right now.


    “What are we looking for again?” Liam asked as we descended into the dark underground tunnels. About an hour earlier, we all met in Scott’s house devising a plan. A plan to break our fellow pack member, Lydia Martain, out of Eichen House Sanitarium. Liam, Malia, and I were the distraction, Kira was the get away driver, and Scott and Stiles were the rescue team. The distraction teams’ task was to find the Chimera Pack and keep them at bay as long as possible. 

    “I don’t know. A clue.” I shrugged as I ventured further into the pipe lined corridors. 

     Malia brushed past me “All I can smell from back there is your stupid perfume.” 

    She said annoyance in her voice. Malia never really seemed in a good mood. Except maybe around her boyfriend, Stiles. Sometimes not even then. Liam and I followed Malia, the tunnel had many different extension. You’d get lost if you didn’t have a map, or super human smell. Unfortunately, I had neither. I was the only human among my companions, but I was smarter than both of them combined. Which is why I was with them. I was the voice of reason amid the two hot heads trekking with me. Suddenly, Malia stopped cause me to bump into her. She rolled her eyes at me over her shoulder. 

     “Do you hear that?” Her voice was hushed. 

     “Yeah.” Liam agreed his voice the same quiet tone.

    I strained my ears to hear what their supernatural ones could, knowing that was impossible. 

     “I don’t hear any-“ I started, but was cut off my the two of them shushing me in unison. I furrowed my brow at them, but stayed quiet. From behind us a sound, like a metal piece hitting the ground, caught our attention. We all spun around to see Tracy and Josh, two chimera hybrids, standing a yard or two away. 

    “Y/N.” Liam growled without looking at me. 


    “Run.” He warned.

     As he said the words, Tracy and Josh charged at us. Tracy closed the gap between us first, and in that short distance she’d change into her Kanima form. Josh was still a bit behind, but flashed his fangs and his lightning power at us. I turned in the opposite direction and ran. I was no match for chimeras, I could barely walk without tripping over air half the time. I ran to the end of the hallway, and made a left. Running right into something solid, it knocked me backwards and I hit the ground. I looked up clutching my head to see what I’d run into. Fear washed over me instantly. Standing in front of me, mischievous smile and all was Theo Raeken. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I looked around feverishly trying to find something to attack with or some way to escape. 

     “Tsk. Tsk. You know fighting back is stupid.” He taunted me. I stood up cautiously, his eyes followed me intently. Without warning, I started towards him and swung my fist. It hit him in the jaw and he stumbled backwards. 

     “Feisty, aren’t we Princess?” He chuckled touching his lip to check for blood.

     “Tougher than I look, Princess.” I mocked. He stepped closer to me, and I instinctively stepped back. 

     “Tough, but not smart. I could pin before you knew was I did.” 

    “I’d kick your ass, and I’d make sure you knew what I did.” I sassed. 

     He smiled at me, a cunning but beautiful smile. Everything about him was impossibly perfect, but I couldn’t be distracted. I had to get away. Once again, I started towards him but he was ready for me this time. Like he promised, he grabbed me and slammed me into the wall, pipes smashing into my back. He pinned my arms down to my side, a smirk smug on his face. I squirmed trying to free myself from his grip but he was to strong, and the struggling only seemed to entertain him. I had half a mind to spit in his face, when I saw it. He moved his gaze from my eyes to my lips and back. It was only for a second, had I not been so close to his face I might have missed it. It was like a sign from the supernatural gods. I pushed my lips firmly into his, and I was surprised when he returned the kiss. I could feel his grip on my arms loosen and I had my chance. I thrusted my knee into his groin causing him to grab it and double over in pain. I pushed past him and ran. My only escape was deeper in the maze like tunnels. The few doors I found as I ran were all locked. After several minutes of running, my pace started to slow and I knew I had to find a spot to hide. I made another turned, and saw a door ajar ahead. I sprinted towards it and squeezed inside shutting it quietly behind me. I was in an old supply closet. It was square with a chair in the corner to the right, a broom and an few boxes of powdered soap on a shelf in the far left corner. I walked over to the chair slumping in it. It creaked as I did. I figured I would wait until Scott and Stiles texted me that they’d gotten Lydia out okay, then I would sneak out. Hopefully, no one would be there by then.

    “Find her!” Theo’s voice rang out. I wasn’t sure how close or how far he was. The tunnels were too echoey. 

    “Where can she hide? All these doors are locked.” Tracy said.

    “Yeah, Theo. She probably already got out.” a boy’s voice whined.

    “What is it Theo?” Tracy asked. He hadn’t said anything, but he must have heard or smelled something. I held my breath just incase, his super hearing could me from where ever he was.

    “Nothing.” He said finally after several minutes. “Let’s get out of here.”

    There was no protest from any of them. But they were leaving, which meant I could too. I gave it about five minutes before cracking opening the door and peeking out. It seemed cleared and so I opened the door wider. Thinking I was alone, I started down the hallway. Suddenly, a hand wrapped around my torso hoisting me up and another covered my mouth. I started kicking and screaming, but bother were futile. My assailant’s strength was greater than my own. I was carried back into the same room, before I was let go. Finally, I was able to see who’d captured me.

    “I like your perfume.” Theo smirked. 


     Malia said it was strong. Note to self, perfume not great for hiding. 

    “Let me go, Theo.” I warned unthreateningly.

    “Why princess?”

    He walked towards me, and I took a few steps backwards hitting a way. Dread rushed through me. I had no where to go. Before I knew it, he was inches from me. His smirk still perfect on his face. 

    He grabbed my chin and turned my face to the left and than to the right. “Pay back is a bitch. ” he growled.

    “I’m not afraid of you.” her voice quivered.

    “You sure?’ He chuckled. “Because you’re heart beat says your terrified.” 

    He lifted my chin, that he was still holding, up to look at him. I nibbled on my lower lip, a nervous habit of mine. The expression on his face changed as he watch me. Roughly, he grabbed both of my arms and put them together over my head. He held them there with one hand and with the other pulled my lips to his kissing my hard. I caught myself kissing him back, but I couldn’t help it. His lips were warm and soft. He licked my lips with his tongue asking to enter. I let him, and he swirled his tongue around mine. Everything in me told me stop, to push him off of me and run. But he started caressing my body with his free hand, and it felt so good. I bit his lower lip softly, causing him to groan in my mouth. He removed his hold on my hands, and moved down my body to my thighs. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around him. I started to move my hands, but he glared up at me.

    “Don’t move those hands until I say.” he warned. I nodded and he attack my neck with kisses. I moaned with pleasure. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine. Without thinking, I tangled my fingers in his hair. He withdrew from my neck, and narrowed his eyes. He loosened his grip on my thighs and I knew he was putting me down. Once I was firmly on the ground her spun me around, my front touching the wall. He nuzzled his nose in my ear.

    “I don’t remember saying you could move you hands.” He growled.

    “I’m sorry.” I whimpered. He didn’t say anything. He reached to my front, unbuttoning my pants and easing down the zipper. In one quick motion, he pulled my jeans and panties down around my knees. He smoothed his hand over my ass softly, before smacking it hard. Initially, I felt pain and hissed. But the sting dulled quickly and all I felt was pure pleasure. 

    “I told you not to move, Princess.” He spanked me a few more times, and I could feel myself growing wetter with each one. 

    “I’m going to fuck you now, and you’re not going make any noise. Understand?” He whispered in my ear. I nodded.

    “I want you to say it.” he hissed.

    “I’m not going to make any noise.” I recited.

    “Good girl.” he cooed. I could hear him unzipping his pants behind me, and pulling them down. He pulled down his boxers and I heard him fiddling with the condom wrapper trying to get it opened. I wondered if he just walked around with condoms in his pocket. He put his hands on my hips readying himself. I stuck my ass out grinding against his erection. Theo groaned and tightened his grip on my hips, I could feel a bruise forming already. He teased my pussy with his tip as he lined himself up with my entrance. 

    “god, you’re so wet.” He moaned. He slid in slowly and it took everything in me not to cry out. I dug my fingers into the wall, trying to suppress every urge to moan. I could hear him smiling behind me. He quickened his pace, and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to obey his command much longer.

    “It feels so good, doesn’t it?” He purred. “Tell me, Princess.”

    “Yes.” I moaned loudly. “Please, Theo. Faster.” I begged. He loved that he was the reason for my pleasure and he pumped in me faster. My walls tightened around him and I knew I was almost to my edge. From the low grunts and growls from behind me. He was too.

    “I’m-I’m…” I tried to say.

    “Come Princess.” At the words, I reached my climax. My moans filled the small room and that seemed to fuel Theo. He thrusted a couple more time before exploding his load into the condom. He pulled out and released his grip on my hips. My knees were shaky and I hazily redressed myself. He was already dressed when I looked at him again. He stepped closer to me and kissed me softly on the lips.

    “Let’s do this again sometime.” He whispered and then he disappeared out of the room. I slouched against the wall.

    “What just happened?” I said aloud to myself.

    messedupweave  asked:

    I saw your post on the condom wrapper crinkling thing and I just want you to know that men don't do that. Fuckboys do but don't put men and fuckboys together as one and think that they're synonyms for each other. Real men don't rape. Real men don't abuse women. Fuckboys and scum do. Please don't think that they're the same. <3

    “Bad men are not real men, therefore no man is bad”. This is a fallacy called No True Scotsman. The truth is that yes, men do all those bad things. Men rape, kill, and abuse women. The “fuckboys” who trick women into unknowingly having sex with them without a condom (which is rape by deception) ARE real men. Real, living, breathing, flesh and bone men. Pushing the issue aside to protect the feelings of men who don’t want to be associated with this kind of behavior prevents us from analyzing the damaging effects of hegemonic masculinity and does a disservice to women everywhere.