Sneaking In

Word Count: 348

Pairing: Jamilams

Warnings: Like, one swear word

Inspired by @bunny-yams ’s Highschool!au:

“Finally!” Thomas sighed when he saw John trotting towards him. “It’s freezing!”

“Well maybe,” John smiled sarcastically, “You shouldn’t wear a tshirt on an october night.”

“Alex stole all my hoodies, though,” Thomas explained. Alex nodded in understanding.

“This is my last one, but still.”

“Whatever, let’s just get in.” The two approached the house. “Why are the windows so far up if this is the first floor?” John shrugged.

“Could be worse, second floor,” John replied.

“It was a rhetorical question, but alright.” Thomas put his hands on the brick. “Boost me, will ya?” John rolled his eyes and crouched down so Thomas could get on his shoulders, they would swap this job often. John stood up slowly after Thomas got on. “You good?”

“Yeah, hurry up, please,” John pleaded, his voice strained. John heard the window slide open and Thomas used his upper body strength to, not so gracefully, shove himself inside. After a few whispered curses from banging his shin, Thomas’ head peeped out.

“Hey, take off your sweatshirt,” Thomas ordered.

“Thomas, this is not the time-”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” He whispered harshly, “Just trust me… Okay?” John smiled and sighed, shrugging the thing off. “‘Kay, toss a sleeve up.” Thomas caught it. “A’ight, I think you get it?”

Thomas used the sweatshirt to pull John up as he used his feet to push against the wall. Good thing it was durable. When John got to the window frame, Thomas was to focused to notice and pulled once more. John fell forward with a quiet yelp, crashing on top of Thomas, who whisper screamed. Thomas’ head was knocked back, and he instantly froze at what he saw. “Yo, are you oka-” John looked up to meet Mr. Washington’s eyes.

Mr. Washington was staring deadpan at them with a glass of water in his Pj’s.

“Um, good- uh- good evening, Sir,” John said quietly.

“How’s your night been?” Thomas adds. Mr. Washington pinches the bridge of his nose, turns around, and walks away without a word.

“Aha- shit,” John states.

Method to the Madness ~ Part One

Originally posted by chimcheroo

Fairy-tale & AU Series Index

Previous Part || Next Part

Word Count: 2.5K

Genre: Mafia!au & Demon!au

Please excuse any errors! It’s a bit short, but it’ll get longer as time goes on!


I started at the schedule book, trying to understand where these words came from. I don’t remember writing this! But it looks like it’s written with my pen, and it’s my handwriting. I glared at the book, letting out a sigh of confusion. I closed the book before turning around in my spinning chair to my computer. I began to look through some files, doing the work which was set for me.


I looked up to see Bora approaching me. Her eyes were wandering around as if she was looking for something. I also looked around, curious as to what was going on.

“What is it?” I asked, looking at her for answers. It’s gonna be something stupid, I know it is. Bora works in the marketing department of the company. She only sees values in looks and money. She comes to visit when Mr. Kwon’s handsome and successful nephew comes to visit.

Though I’ve been here for a short time, I’ve figured out how things work. She must want someone’s attention.

“I heard from Yeji that some very handsome gentlemen came to visit Mr. Kwon.” She muttered. I stopped for a moment, also confused as to what she was saying.

“Ah! Yes, they said they had some business with Mr. Kwon.” I answered, trying to turn my attention back to the computer.

“Are they really that good looking? Yeji tends to exaggerate.”

I kept my eyes on the computer screen as I nodded, “Yes. They’re very good looking.”

A smirk pulled at lips, and she flipped her long black hair, pushing some behind her ear. I was expecting her to leave when another voice soon joined in.

“Are they still here?” This time softer. I inwardly groaned knowing that Yeji has now joined. They always gather around like this.

“Are you here to gawk over some men? Don’t you have things to do?” I muttered.

Keep reading

Mr. Matchmaker


Request: Well my PalForLife™ ( @princeofsassgard ) asked for ca:cw Peter Parker one shot and who am I to turn down Allison? I love her so much and everyone should go follow her. She’s the sweetest.

Summary: You’re best friends with Peter Parker, Tony meets you both, sees you’re into each other and decides to play matchmaker.

Warnings: Holy fucking shit I don’t think there’s any swearing in this one (well I just swore then but that doesn’t count….right?)

Originally posted by teamunderoos

You stood beside Peter in the small elevator going up to his apartment. The stressful school day was over and your backpack was full to the brim with the homework. It was nearly everyday that you two hung out after classes and today was no exception. You were friends, good friends, best friends and being Peter’s best friend meant seeing him through everything, even his dumpster diving which was a regular after school occurrence.

“Can’t believe that perfectly good DVD player was just sitting there” He smiled over at you.

You grinned back “Me too. I’ll help you set it up and stuff but then I gotta’ get home for dinner”

Peter’s smile faded partially and his eyes fell to his shoes which made you furrow your brows at him. Without lifting his eyes to meet yours he began nervously twiddling the zipper of his hoodie “I was thinking…”

“That’s never good” You joked and smiled once again when you saw his eyes reconnect with yours and a grin return to his face however his nervous twiddling still carried on.

“As I was saying…” He began “I was thinking maybe, um, you could stay a little longer. We could watch a DVD on this thing. I have Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back on DVD, we could watch that” He lifted the old player to show what he was talking about.

You chuckled and blushed slightly at his offer then opened your mouth to reply but the elevator doors dinged open cutting you off.

“This is our floor” Peter rushed before you could finish what you’d planned to say and quickly stepped out with you following closely behind.


Aunt May gave you a kind greeting the moment you walked in, as always “How was school today?” She asked as you and Peter wandered into the kitchen, Peter turned to Aunt May while you bent down to look in the fridge for a bottle of water. You couldn’t see what was going on behind you but you heard Peter respond to his Aunt.

“It was okay, there’s this crazy car parked outside….” He trailed off sounding a little dumbfounded “Hey Y/N, would you mind, uh, waiting in my room. Set up the DVD player or something”

That both caught your attention and confused you, so you stood up straight, closed the fridge and turned to see a shocked looking Peter staring at the man sat beside Aunt May on the couch. Mr freaking Stark.

Your eyes widened “Mr…Mr…”

“Mr. Stark” Tony said.

“Yeah, I know, kind of a big fan”

Peter nudged your shoulder with his “You can geek out later, go set up the DVD player”

“Yeah, sure” You said, still in shock as to why the Tony Stark was in Peter Parker’s crappy Queens apartment.


You weren’t sat twiddling your thumbs on Peters bed for long before Tony Stark and Peter walked in. Tony walked straight over to where Peter’s Computer sat while Peter stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“What do we have here? Retro tech, huh?” Tony looked down at you “Salvation army?”

You shook your head and responded “The garbage actually”

Tony looked back over at Peter “Who’s this?” He tilted his head in your direction “Spiderman’s trusty sidekick”

You didn’t let Peter reply to him however and stood up from the bed “I’m no one’s sidekick, Mr. Stark”

“So you’re his girlfriend then?” He asked, lifting his eyebrows.

Peter took a sharp intake of breath “No, uh, no it’s not like that”

“Yeah, we’re just friends” You were quick to back your ‘just friend’ up.

Tony scoffed knowingly and shot a smug look toward both you and Peter “Young love. So blind”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked. Tony looked even more smug at this point and walked closer to where Peter stood, speaking to him rather than you.

“When are you gonna ask the girl out, Parker?” He asked. You could hear what he was saying and Tony clearly wasn’t bothered by that.

Peter awkwardly shrugged his shoulders and gave you a look that said ‘help me out here’ before looking back at Tony “I-I-I don’t…um”

“So you don’t like her?”

“What! No! I do, I really like her” He rushed out quickly.

Tony shifted his body to the side so that Peter had a clear view of you, Tony placed one hand on his shoulder and said “Don’t tell that to me. Tell that to the girl”

Peter visibly took a deep breath in, he seemed to be arguing with himself in his head. But his decision was made, he shot Tony one last nervous look but Tony just returned it with a reassuring one. Then Peter spoke, this time to you “I like you Y/N. A lot. And I know you see me as a friend but there’s no other girl I’d want to go rifling through dumpsters and watch Star Wars with. You’re the prettiest girl I know and you’re amazing”

Tony seemed pleased with himself “Call me Mr. Matchmaker from now on” then he whispered to Peter “Now ask her out”

Peter nodded quickly to Stark to show he understood then looked back at your grinning face “Do you wanna’ go out some time?”

Both Peter and Mr. Stark looked at you expectantly, waiting for what you had to say and just like Peter you took a deep breath inwards before replying “Yes, a thousand times yes”

A/N - Tagging @hollysleeps @panic-angel3314 @justapieceofgeekytrash @calmforwinter

Babysitting PT2

When Cynn saw Prince, she knew she would gladly babysit for the Turners. She smiled sweetly for Mrs. Turner while Mr. Turner’s eyes secretly ran all over her young body, sexy now in a tight little t-shirt and a brief miniskirt. The Turners had heard from the Prossers that Cynn was a very reliable babysitter. She never let boys into the house.

“So, you’ll watch Annie and Kitty until we get home?” Mrs. Turner said.

“Oh, yes,” Cynn said with a big smile. “I’d be glad to.”

“We’ll pay you the same as the Prossers,” Mr. Turner said, trying to keep his eyes off of her jutting young tits.

“Sure,” Cynn chirped happily. “That’ll be just fine.” Her eyes darted to the dog lying on the floor in front of the TV. “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Prince,” Mrs. Turner said. “He won’t give you any trouble. He’s big, but he’s a pussycat.”

Cynn could see that he was twice as big as Max. Was his cock twice as big? That was all she wanted to know about him. She decided to find out just as soon as the Turners were gone. She locked the front door, checked on the kids, found them fast asleep, then returned to the living room and found the dog watching her every move. She stood over him with legs apart and tits pointing hard in the tightness of her t-shirt. She smiled at him.

“I hope you’re friendly like Max,” she purred.

Prince’s ears perked up at the sound of her gentle, kind voice. His big brown eyes glistened at her. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. It was big and thick. Cynn liked that. Just the sight of it made her pussy wet between her curvy thighs.

As the dog watched, she slowly lifted her miniskirt in front and stroked her pussy with one hand.

“Do you lick pussy?” she asked him.

The animal just stared dumbly at her, looking from her pretty face to her moving hand, curiously. Cynn held her skirt way up on her flat belly and used her fingers to arouse her cunt. She spread her feet farther apart and hunched her hips forward. Her fingers danced over her pussy-fuzz and cuntlips. A fingertip teased her clit and she moaned as sexy feelings filled her cunt. She rubbed her pussy until her fingers got wet.

“Let’s see if you like pussy-juice,” she laughed.

She leaned down and put her wet fingers to the dog’s snout. Prince sniffed, then licked at her fingers as if she had offered him a treat. Cynn laughed sensuously and let him lick her fingers dry.

“Want more?” she cooed.

She rubbed her pussy again and dipped her fingertips between her cuntlips into her pussy. They came out drenched, and she let Prince lick the juice off. This time he licked harder, as if he really wanted the liquid. Cynn liked that. Sure that he was hooked now, she stepped back to the recliner chair behind her. She sat down on the edge of it and opened her pretty legs widely. Then she drew her little skirt way up and exposed all of her horny young cunt.

“Here, Prince,” she cooed sweetly. “Come and get it. Want more pussy? Here it is. Come on, boy.”

Coaxed by her voice, Prince got to his feet and approached her open legs. His eyes followed his nose right to her sweet cunt. Cynn smiled happily and leaned back in the chair. She stretched her knees farther apart.

“Here you are,” she purred, patting her pussy. “All the pussy you can eat.”

Prince sniffed her juicy little cunt for a moment, then swiped his big thick tongue at it. Cynn jerked when his raspy tongue hit her quivery little clit. It was stiff and sticking out already, she was so horny.

“Ewww, good boy,” she breathed hotly. “That’s it. Lick Cynn nice. Mmmmm, you lick good. That-a-boy. Lick it. Lick Cynn pussy!”

Turning on to the young girl’s hot cunt, Prince started lashing her crotch with his big tongue Cynn purred and moaned and whimpered as the huge hunk of wet meat slapped and slurped against her cunt.

“Your tongue is so big!” she gasped, carried away by the thrill of it. “Ummmm, you can lick my pussy any time!”

Horny out of her young mind, she drew her pert knees up, held them apart with her hands, and watched hotly as the dog licked his tongue up and down her sweet cunt.

“Ewwww, that’s nice,” she whispered. She dug her heels into the chair and clasped her knees tightly as she humped her pussy up and down, up and down, in a sexy rhythm. The doggie-tongue was turning her on something fierce. It had been a week since Max had licked her cunt, and Prince’s tongue was bigger and stronger than Max’s.

“Uh-uh- uhhh,” she grunted like a little animal as she humped her pussy for the dog’s licking, lashing tongue.

Prince pressed his snout into her crotch and slapped the hell out of her pussy with his thick tongue. Her juices flowed nicely now that he was licking her cunt steadily, and Cynn moaned with increasing passion. The sexy pleasure filled her young mind and she almost swooned. She leaned back in the chair, kept her knees far apart, and lifted her t-shirt up in front. She tugged it way up to her chin, baring her ripe tits. Her naughty hands grasped her tits and she tweaked her pink nipples until they were hard with pleasure. She moaned softly, as he fucked her cunt with his the doggie-tongue, and mauled the hell out of her nice tits. Her blue eyes grew heavy after a while, and she panted for breath as Prince’s big tongue whipped her pussy into a horny frenzy.

“Ohhh, I’m gonna cum gooooooood,” she murmured.

She could tell by the way Prince was licking her cunt so hungrily that she would orgasm wildly. And she was right. The doggie-tongue lashed her quivery clit again and all of a sudden all hell broke loose deep in her heaving young belly.

“Oh!” she shrieked.

Her whole body went taut for a few seconds as she shuddered and shivered in the deep chair. She squeezed the life out of her tight young tits and screwed her wet pussy viciously against Prince’s relentless tongue.

“I’m cumming!” she cried.

She raised her cute little ass up off the chair and thrust her pussy into the dog’s snout. It banged there and sent a sharp thrill all through her young body. Prince licked faster, and she came like crazy.

“Oh, ohh, ohhh, I’m… I’m… I’m cummmiiinnnggg!” she squealed happily.

She clenched her tits and fucked her horny pussy fast against the licking, lapping tongue as she came. Prince licked his tongue harder into the pussy, jerky pussy in front of him. The more he licked, the more hot cunt-juice he got, and he wanted that now. Going for her pussy-juice like it was a treat, he slapped her cunt fiercely with his tongue and drank all the cunt juices she could produce. And she produced plenty. She threw her head back and squeezed her tits and fucked her horny pussy faster and faster as she came. Wave upon wave of sexy pleasure rushed through her young body and her pussy creamed endlessly. Great rushes of hot juices coursed through her pussy-channel to her cunt-mouth, and Prince licked it all out of her. The more he licked, the more she came, until she was a writhing, humping mass of hot female flesh.

“Ohhh, Prince!” she gasped, cumming like crazy for him. “You lick pussy better than Max! Ewww, eat me, eat me, eat meeeee!”

She loved getting her pussy licked, so she abandoned herself to the heady pleasure the doggie-tongue provided. It was a mind-boggling orgasm for her, and she enjoyed every second of it. To get the very best orgasm she could, she thrust her trembling hands down between her thighs and used her fingers to pry apart her cuntlips. She pulled them apart and pushed her cunt at the dog’s snout. Prince’s tongue delved into her open, pink pussy, and a series of electric shocks coursed through her belly. She came and came and came.

Her clit grew thicker and more sensitive, like a big girl’s, and each time Prince’s thick tongue hit her clit, she had to let out a shriek of joy.

“Oh!” she cried, humping her cunt faster for him. “Ew! Oh! Um! Yow! Ew! Wow!”

With each outburst, she jerked her wet pussy forward, and the doggie-tongue stung her clit. The sharp thrills made her cum even more, and she couldn’t get enough of the intense pleasure. As far as she was concerned, this was the best feeling a girl could get.

“Ohhhh, why didn’t I think of this sooner?” she panted hotly, her pretty head lolling from side to side as she came wetly.

Prince slurped her pussy steadily, drinking all her cunt-juice like he was lapping water out of his dish. The sensations he created in her cunt made Cynn moan and fuck her pussy for him. The more she humped, the more he licked. Cynn was in seventh heaven.

“Ohhhhh, howww gooood,” she moaned as his big tongue assaulted her crotch, cunt and clit. “I never dreamed it could be like thisssss…”

She gripped her tits again and teased her stiff pink nipples as Prince went on licking his tongue into her cunt. She squirmed and twisted in the chair, horny out of her young mind and hungry for more. Enjoying her newfound pleasure completely, she slumped in the chair and surrendered her body to the licking, lapping dog. Her eyes closed lazily and her mouth fell open as she panted for breath. Her tits hardened and jutted beautifully in her trembling hands. And her hips and ass quivered and twisted as her pussy creamed and juiced and flooded wetly.

“Ohhhh, Prince,” she panted. “What a good dog you are! Ummmm, now I wanna do something nice for you!”

Rather dizzily, she struggled up into a sitting position and peered down over her jutting tits at what Prince was still doing to her pussy. She shuddered with rapture as more thrills passed through her cunt.

“Golly!” she gasped. “You’re enough to drive a girl crazy!”

She giggled and got to her feet, a little unsteadily, and moved her pussy away from the licking dog. She dropped to her knees and kissed Prince’s head. She told him he was a good dog and stroked his sides with her hands. He licked at her tits because they were right there to be licked. Cynn moaned a little and let him lick her naked young tits. Her nipples hard under the lashing of his tongue. She held her t-shirt way up and watched as he lapped her tits.

“What a nice dog you are!” she laughed hotly. “You’ve got me so horny! Come here… let me see your cock!”

Prince at first didn’t understand what the horny girl wanted of him. When she tried to push him over, he resisted. Cynn pushed harder, until finally he got the picture and slumped to the floor on his side. Cynn rolled him over even more and gazed hotly at his hairy cock-sheath, his prick half out, thick and red.

“Wow,” she breathed. “You are bigger than Max!”

Her hand flew to his balls and cock and Prince then knew what she wanted. He was all for it. His prick extended suddenly out of its protective sheath, much to Cynn delight. Her blue eyes widened. She liked his cock a lot.

“Mmmmm, you have a nice one,” she purred.

She caressed his hot balls for a moment, then milked his thick, burgeoning cock. Just a few strokes of her gentle hand made it big and strong. His hardon throbbed in her fist and she smiled pleasantly as she jerked on it.

“It’s so big,” she breathed.

Mesmerized, delighted, happy, she started jerking the dog off. She sat on the floor and snuggled closer to him so she could watch his prick shoot. His cock enlarged considerably and filled her playful fist nicely. She moaned as it grew hotter and stiffer in her jerking hand. It excited her to see a dog-cock get nice and big for her. So she jerked it faster.

“I’ll make you cum like you made me cum,” she promised.

With that, she gripped his cock tightly and whacked the hell out of it. Giggling from time to time, she watched his prick throb and jerk in her fist as she milked it and pumped it for him. Prince groaned and grunted, and Cynn knew he was going to shoot his hot cum. She was eager to see that happen. She laughed sensuously and jerked harder on his rigid prick. His prick thickened in her fist. His cockhead opened up. His balls tightened up against the base of his cock. He uttered a strange noise that made Cynn giggle again. She knew he was horny now. He looked like he wanted to fuck. His haunches started humping. Cynn blue eyes glazed over with lust as she pumped his prick for him. This was the moment she had been waiting for. She lowered her head and watched starry-eyed as the doggie-cock erupted in a series of violent jolts. Huge wads of thick cock-cream came spurting out of Prince’s thick prick. Cynn jerked his prick faster, laughing erotically as he shot his cum-load for her. Big spurts of white cum shot out of his cockhead onto his chest. Cynn stared hotly and felt a funny feeling deep in her pussy.

“Ohhhh, wowwwww!” she cooed, watching his dick jolt and jump in her fist. “You cum a lot!”

The big wads of cum fascinated her. When he was finished shooting his load, she caressed his prick. And with her other hand, she touched his pool of cum.

Her fingertips dipped into his cum and she felt it carefully. It was warm to her touch and slimy and creamy.

“How sexy,” she purred, feeling his cum again. “This is what you make baby dogs with.” She examined his cum for several moments, smearing her fingertips through it. Then she was gripped by an urge to taste dog-cum. Her lips parted and her pink tongue slipped across her ripe lips. She swallowed nervously, then lifted her fingers to her mouth. With a shiver of excitement, she licked at her fingers with her saucy little tongue, and tested his cum.

“Ummmm,” she purred, “that’s nice.”

Her eyes lit up and she licked her fingers clean, then dipped them again into his cum and licked them clean again.

Her eyes fell to her hand still on his stiff cock. A naughty thought assailed her young mind. She was shocked by it.

“Golly!” she rasped, surprised at herself. “I think I wanna suck your cock!”

She drew away from the dog’s body, a little afraid of her thoughts and secret desires. They were alarming. She sat back and stared at his throbbing red prick. Her tongue ran across her dry lips. She swallowed nervously again.

“Jeez,” she breathed, shuddering a little, “I can’t do that! You’d better lick my pussy again before I change my mind!”

She threw herself back on the carpet and stretched her pretty legs wide apart. She called to Prince and coaxed him to eat her cunt again She pried her pussy-lips apart with her finger and invited him to lick her cunt-mouth. Prince found that… and her clit. Cynn went wild on the floor.

Accepting Him

Fandom: The Boy
Characters: Brahms, Mr and Mrs Heelshire
Relationship: Brahms/reader
Request: Have you seen The Boy? Could I request one where the reader is a old friend of Brahms and doesn’t know hes still alive but agrees to be a nanny to the doll to repay the family? And its like the same plot as the movie but its her abusive dad Brahms kills and she stays? Thx
Authors Note: Massive Spoiler – but what a great movie!
You looked out of the window of the black taxi, the trees becoming a blur. The taxi driver was focused on the road which you were grateful for since you didn’t feel like speaking to anyone.
You were going to stay with the Heelshire out in their big country home. You were both dreading and looking forward to it.
You had known the family many many years ago, back when you were 7 years old. You have been best friends with Brahms, whos weirdness matched your own. But you were from an abusive family and he hated that. SO when the whole Emily thing had happened, your family had dragged you away to another country so that the police wouldn’t find out about the nasty hand shaped bruise on your arms or the black eyes you had.
You had found out that Brahms had died not long after you left in a house fire. It had devastated you. So you were surprised when you accidently stumbled across an add to look after a 8 year old boy called Brahms who lived at the same address, you were on the phone straight away.
Mrs Heelshire picked up the phone. You were surprise at how she still sound just as you remembered her.
“Hello, Mrs Heelshire. You may not remember me but-“ you had barley finished your sentence when you heard her calling to her husband.
“Daddy, come here. Its [y/n]! You remember her? Brahms little friend!” She sounded so happy despite her somewhat monotone voice. You had heard Mr Heelshire coming in the room and asked how you were. You had always adored them both. They were more like parents that your actual parents. They had tried to protect you from the violence you had endured.
you spent a few minutes exchanging pleasantries and finding out how you were. But you were curious and that curiosity got the better of you.
“The reason I called was because of this add I found.” As soon as you spoke, you heard the other side of the phone fall silent. You allowed them to gather their thoughts before Mrs Heelshire spoke, her voice shaking.
“Yes, we are looking for a nanny while we are away on holiday.” She was rather vague which made you frown but you were glad she couldn’t see you. She would always tell you off if you had frowned a her when you were younger.
“For Brahms. But he- he would have been 26, would he?” You ask, originally going to say but he was dead but then you decide against it.
“Yes, my dear. But he is still very much with us. He is still a child, still 8 years old.” She said and instantly you understood.
You had seen plenty of cases where parents who had not grieved properly never accepted the loss of their child. Instantly you thought of a doll. Perhaps that was what they required.
You had suffered from guilt over the years. You should have stayed to help Brahms and maybe you could have helped him more. Maybe if you had been there, he wouldn’t have been killed in the fire. These maybes killed you every day. You had never forgotten him.
“May I apply?” You ask, hearing the intake of breath on the other line. They hadn’t expected that.
You heard a muffling sound which you assumed was a hand being placed over the phone and voices which were muffled. You had allowed them to speak amongst themselves.
But they had accepted and offered you the job there and then. In fact, Mrs Heelshire had sounded thrilled as she told you she would pay for your travel expenses.
She asked if you had a job that you needed to give notice period but you told her you were a writer so it would be nice to spend a couple of months away and that you could work on your new book.
So, here you were. The house began to loom over the trees as the taxi driver stopped the car to open the gates. Memories flooded back to you.
When you would come up here, you were small enough to slip through the gates and run up the path.
You blinked away the tears as the driver gets back into the car and drives up.
Arriving outside the grand doors, you were surprised at how it hadn’t changed. Apart from the outsides of Brahms room. That was boarded up.
Of course, Mrs Heelshire was waiting for you outside and she smiled as you got out the car. You weren’t sure how she would greet you but she embraced you with open arms. As you pulled back, she moved a strand of your [h/c] hair out of your face.
“my, my. You grew up to be so beautiful.” She mumbled, more to herself than you but you couldn’t help but smile at her. It was very rare you received compliments since you kept yourself to yourself.
Her smile faulted as she looked over her shoulder into the house.
“Come, there is much to go over.” She then turned on her heel and walked inside.
You followed her but only after the driver had said he would place your luggage inside for you.
She talked you through your duties, cooking and some light cleaning. She told you that there will be a man who delivers the groceries once a week and that they kept and froze all the leftovers. You nodded and smiled, showing you understood.
Then she took you to meet Brahms.
As you thought, he was a doll. When you walked into the room, Mr Heelshire was crouched by a chair, speaking to someone in the chair and as he moved, your mouth nearly fell open.
The doll was so similar to the Brahms you remembered. His big eyes, neatly combed black hair. Even down to his smart outfit.
Of your own accord, you walked forward and kneeled in front of Brahms, looking at him.
You knew Mr and Mrs Heelshire eyes were focused on you but you didn’t care. You felt a pang of pain in your chest. You missed him every day and now, you may have a chance to repay him and this family for leaving. You reached out and ran your finger down his cheek.
“Introduce yourself dear. He may not recognise you. You have grown up so much.” Mr Heelshire nodded to you.
“Hi, Brahms. It’s me, [y/n]. Remember me? We used to play together when we were children.” You smiled at Brahms, taking his small, porcelain hand and shaking it lightly.
Mrs Heelshire smiled, placing a hand over her heart.
You spent the rest of the day with Mr and Mrs Heelshire and Brahms of course. They showed you how to clean the traps and what clothes Brahms needed to be dressed in and the way your day should work. You got very excited when Mrs Heelshire asked you to read poetry and play classical music. Mr Heelshire said a number of times that things weren’t as they seemed and that Brahms was still here. You agreed with him.
When you were finished, she asked for a moment alone with Mr Heelshire and Brahms. You stood in the hall, a little nervous. What if they resented you for leaving?
But Mrs Heelshire opened the door, beaming at you.
“He wants you, if you will still have him?”
Of course, you agreed.
—————-time skip ——————–
After Mr and Mrs Heelshire left, you followed the rules to a tee.
You woke, dressed and cared for Brahms. You had sat with him the first night and poured your heart out to the doll. You cried, sobbing about how sorry you were and that you wanted to stay with him but they wouldn’t let you.
However, you were slowly beginning to believe that he was alive, the doll was alive. Little items would go missing, like a neckless and some clothes. Sometimes, things weren’t where you left them and sometimes, it was the doll himself who had moved. You had tested your theory by placing him on the floor and drawing around him with chalk and he would move!
At first, you didn’t believe it but now, you were sure he was here, in spirt or something. You assumed he had forgiven you for leaving since he never did anything to hurt or scare you (on purpose). He would never go out of his way to make you happy.
Like leaving your favourite book on your bed to read to yourself or he would give you hints to what you could write about.
You would sit with Brahms and play the piano for him, or read to him.
Over time, you became attached to him.
It was apparent that he didn’t like Malcom, the delivery boy. But neither did you. He was too noisy and rude. But he did only come around once a week.
You were sitting with Brahms, reading to yourself when you heard a bang from downstairs. You jumped and looked at Brahms.
“Was that you?” You asked, but when you heard it again, you knew it wasn’t Brahms. You quickly got to your feet and picked up Brahms, holding him close to your body protectively.
Walking down the corridor, you called out ‘hello?’ a couple of times before deciding the noise was coming from the pool room.
You turned the corner and there stood your father. Abusive, drunk, controlling father.
“There you are [y/n]! Get your stuff.” He stumbled across the room, bashing his hip on the table and grunting.
“How did you knew where I was?” You ask, your voice shaking as you hold Brahms tighter. Your father’s eyes fell on the doll, smirking at you.
“Your flatmate. Ran into her while she was forwarding on your mail. Managed to nick a letter and here I am. How dare you leave without my permission.” He became enraged, walking up and grabbing your upper arm. You struggled but he squeezed tighter, making you cry out in pain.
“Stop it, you’re hurting me!” You cry out, pulling back. Just as you did that, he left go and you fell backwards, your head banging against the wall. You whimper to yourself, checking Brahms before yourself. You were relieved to see he was unharmed.
“Now, get your stuff. Now, [y/n]!” He demanded as he turned.
“Please, don’t leave me.” A quiet voice, only loud enough for you to hear. Your eyes widened as you looked at Brahms. Had he spoke to you?
Your eyes light up as you thought of an idea.
“Can we leave tomorrow? It’s so dark out and we are so far from anywhere. And in the morning, I’ll make food.” You call out, still looking at Brahms but you could tell your father had stopped.
“Fine. Get me some covers, girl.” He growled and you scrambled to your feet, running out the door with Brahms in your arms. You set him down in his room.
“I don’t want to put you in danger again so I’m going to leave you alone for just a moment, okay?” You ask but don’t get a reply so you took that as a yes and ran out the room to grab covers and pillows.
Your father was already passed out on a couch by the time you had got back so you threw the covers over him, knowing that if he woke up and saw them folded in a corner, you would get a whack for being lazy.
You ran back to Brahms and shut the door, locking it from the inside. You lay down beside him and wrapped your arms around him.
“I’m not going to leave you, not again. But I need your help.” You whispered to him, the fear in your voice obvious. You whispered to Brahms a few more times that you weren’t going to leave him but you began to grow sleepy, your eyelids dropping.
You were dozing when you heard your name being screamed by your father at the top of his lungs. He sounded both angry and scared which was dangerous. You instantly noticed Brahms was gone and the door was open. You scrambled out of the bed and bolted down the hallways, your heart beating hard against your chest.
‘please let him be okay. Please let Brahms be okay.’ You prayed as you rounded the corner of the pool room to see your father leaning against the pool table, blood on his forehead. You looked around and saw dead rats in his luggage.
“There you are. What the hell is this?” He demanded, walking over to you but all you could do was shake your head, your eyes falling on Brahms in the corner. You mumbled his name as you ran around the table to pick him up. Your father followed you.
“Really, the doll? You think I believe that?” he then snatched Brahms by the legs and pulled him from your grasp.
“No, no, no. please!” You gasped, trying to get him back. But your father was no hold Brahms fragile body by the leg and swinging him around.
“You think I’m going to believe that a doll did this. You need to grow up. ‘Brahms’ is dead. And it’s all your fault.” He sneered at you, knowing how to kick you when you’re down.
“Please, just give him back.” You cried, tears running down your cheek as you held your hands out to him.
you father turned to you, smirking. You didn’t like that smirk; it was one he would give you when he would have a horrible idea.
“Once I break this doll, I’m going to kill you.” He sneered then raised the doll over his head and slammed it down on a chair. The porcelain face shattered into a thousand pieces before your eyes. You fell to your knees, your eyes wide and your mouth open. You let out a cry of angst as you watch one of Brahms eyes falling off the seat.
You had failed him again.
You buried your head in your hands as you sobbed. Hearing footsteps, you prepared yourself for the pain but it never came.
Instead, there was a number of bangs and thumps which made you look up and around. Your father had frozen and was looking fearfully at the wall. He walls shook and the light dimmed slightly.
When the noise had stopped, your father started to walk towards a mirror than was on the opposite wall. You pushed yourself back so your back was against a wall, pulling your knees up to your chest. Just as he was about a foot away from the mirror, it shattered, shards of glass flying everywhere as your father stumbled back. The space behind the mirror was hollow and a figure began to appear. It wore a black vest with a thick, chalk coloured sweater. His face was covered with a mask of a dolls face, similar to Brahms one. He had jet black hair which curled at the ends.
As he emerged from the hole in the wall, he looked at you and then to your father.
“Who the fuck are you?!” You father cried out before pouncing at the man.
It would seem the man expected his and gripped your father arms, swinging him around and slamming him against the wall. But your father was still a little drunk and a little pain would stop him. He lunged at the man again and once again, the man managed to better him. He pinned your father down on the floor, his hand on your father throat.
Your father looked at you, his eyes begging for help but you just shook your head.
The amount of time you had been thrown about a room, chocked, struck, beaten by him. You honestly didn’t care if this stranger killed him.
Your father’s eyes fell shut and he stopped struggling.
you watched his body go limp and felt relived.
It was over. You would no long have to run and hind from him anymore.
But the relief was short lived at the man turned his attention to you. You held your breath as he stood and walked over to you, somewhat timidly. As if he was afraid of what you would do.
You closed your eyes as you saw him crouching in front of you, waiting for him to finish you of too. But you were surprised when you felt a shaking finger stroking your cheek. You opened your eyes and saw the man in front of you, his eyes begging you for something.
As you looked into his eyes, you saw something familiar. Something you had seen before.
The timid strokes reminded you of the first time you had come here to look after Brahms, the way you had greeted him.
Then it clicked.
“Brahms?” You asked, your voice shaking as his eyes widened. He gently nodded his head, his curls bouncing slightly.
He was alive. After all this time. You glance to the hole in the wall. He had been living in the walls. He had been here all along.
You reached out and traces a finger down his masks cheek. You could see the burn marks around his eyes so you assumed his whole face must have been burnt, hence the mask. It all clicked together.
It was him you had been looking after. It was from inside the walls.
Your emotions were everywhere. You were filled with relief and sadness. Joy and pain. But as you stared into his eyes, you felt love.
Something behind Brahms moved and your eyes caught a glimpse of your father stumbling over to Brahms, his pocket knife raised above his head.
“Watch out!” You cried, pushing Brahms out the way and pouncing forward.
Your father brought the knife down and it caught your cheek.
Brahms was quick to tackle your father from the side, the knife falling out his hand just as he fell to the ground. You watched Brahms grab a piece of the broken doll and ram it into your father throat. Blood spurted everywhere as your father let out a gargling notice, his legs falling still.
You ran to Brahms, cupping his cheeks and turning his face to look at you.
“Brahms, you okay?” You asked, your voice shaking as he looks at you. He nodded slightly but his hand raises and touches your cheek. When he pulls it away, you see the blood on his fingertips. You raised your own hand and touch your cheek, the cut stinging.
when you winced you felt a slender hand wrap around your wrist gently and pulled it away. You looked at Brahms to see his eyes on your cheek.
He began to stand up, pulling you up with him. You were too busy concentrating on him to see how he was concentrating solely on you. His eyes skimmed your face, his hand reaching up to cup your good cheek.
He then took your right hand and pulled you out of the pool room and into the kitchen. You stumbled a little behind him, head still spinning.
He was so tall. You couldn’t help but feel dwarfed by him slender body.
As you entered the kitchen, he pointed at the large dining table before going into the cupboard with a medical kit. You went over and stood by the table, not wanting to sit and risk getting blood on the wood.
Brahms turned back to you, in his hand was the medical kit. You could see he was shaking slightly. The adrenaline must have worn off and now he was worried. Worried about you or because of you, you didn’t know.
He pointed to the table again.
“I don’t want to get blood on the table, Brahms.” You said, trying to keep your voice normal. He probably was worried about how you would react.
He shook his head slightly and walked over to you, placing a hand either side of your waist and lifted you up to sit you on the table. You couldn’t help but giggle at this.
He had picked you up as if you were the same weight as a doll. Which was ironic.
Brahms then stood in front of you and started to dab at your cheek with an antibacterial wipe. They stung and you flinched away.
Brahms pulled back when you winced, his eyes screaming apologies at you for the pain. You smiled slightly at him, straighten back up to show you were okay and Brahms got back to work. You knew there was nothing that could be done since he couldn’t cover it with a bandage or plaster and it wasn’t deep enough to warrant stitching. So you would just have to wait for it to heal.
You took that moment to let your mind wonder.
You pieced together everything in your mind. The missing items, the moments, the noises. It was Brahms but not in spirt, in person. Despite the past months, you felt safe with him. Even though it was a somewhat strange situation, you trusted Brahms with your life. He could easily kill you. He had proven he was strong and that he could. But he wouldn’t.
Because he needed you. And you needed him.
Your eyes moved to his mask. You knew he had been badly burnt and that was probably why he wore this mask. He wanted the perfect skin of that mask, of the doll. Your heart wept for him. You wondered if his mother or father had encouraged him to wear the mask.
You reached out both your hands, your fingers trailing along the cheek of the mask. You noticed Brahms had stopped and was staring down at you, his eyes wide. You hooked the tips of your fingers around the sides of the mask and began to pull it up, attempting to remove the mask. Brahms hand quickly but gently grabbed your wrists, his eyes begging for you to stop as he let out whimper.
“Don’t you trust me?” You asked gently, frowning slightly. You saw him falter a little as if he was asking himself the same question.
Slowly, he lowered his hands and you lifted the mask off his face.
The right side of his face was badly scarred with burns while his left side wasn’t as badly. In fact, even with the burns, you were surprised at how handsome he was.
His eyes were staring at the floor, his black curls falling in front of his eyes. He had a full beard but it didn’t go up the side of his face due to the scars. You placed the mask gently to the side then reached out your right hand to brush the curls out of his face. He looked up at you.
“[y/n].” He spoke quietly. His voice was a little raspy but angelic.
“Hi Brahms.” You smile, as if it was the first time you had met, which it was.
Before you knew what was happening, his arms were waist around your waist and hugged you close, his face buried in your neck. You didn’t waste any time wrapping your own arms around him, holding him close and trying to sooth him.
When he pulled back, he kept close with his forehead against yours. Your eyes glanced down at his lips. They were full with a small scarring on the right side of his top lip but you didn’t care. To you, he was perfect.
Gently, as if not to scare him, you leaned forward, your hands on the back of the neck and your thumbs rubbing small circle. Brahms watched you closely, as if he didn’t believe what was happening but the second he realised this was real, he quickly closed the gap between you in a sweet kiss. The kiss, though full of inexperience, was passionate. His hands held you close with a sense urgency and he left out sweet little moans every now and again.
You pulled back a little for air, despite Brahms desperation to continue the kiss. You knew he probably wouldn’t have kissed or been with a girl but you hadn’t been kissed before anyone either.
Just then, the clock in the kitchen chimed midnight, making you jump a little.
“Oh Brahms. I didn’t realise how late it was. We should really get to bed.” You jumped down from the table, making Brahms take a step back, his head hung and his body slouched over. You smiled a little to yourself before reaching out and taking his hand. You thought of sleeping in your bed alone and something about that made you uneasy.
“Could you stay in with me tonight? I can sleep on the floor or something. I just don’t want to be on my own.” You asked shyly, avoiding eye contact with him. You really wanted for him to stay but you didn’t want him to feel forced.
You saw his feet stop in front of you and felt his arms wrap around you and he started to guild you toward the door.
He kept you close as he walked up the stair and to your room. You assumed that was he was agreeing to stay. And as you thought, he came into your room with you.
Neither of you bother to take off the clothes as Brahms walked around the queen bed. You walked over to the small armchair in the corner of your room which you had fallen asleep in before but a pair of arms wrapped around you and lifted you up before Brahms walked over and placed you on the bed. He then walked around the bed and crawled in beside you. Brahms lay on his back, his arms by his side but the warmth of him drew you so you cuddled into his side.
The last thing you remembered was an arm wrapping around you and his body turning so Brahms was holding you close.

Panic |Jack Maynard|

Summary -  Jack is claustrophobic and him and Y/N get stuck in a elevator and has a panic attack so Y/N calms him down.

Word Count - 946

Warnings - A panic attack is involved in this storyline.

“Babe? Why are we here again?” you asked for the third time in five minutes, causing Jack to roll his eyes.

“We are here because it’s a special birthday for you.” Jack told you, squeezing your hand as you walked into a hotel.

Glancing at the copper gold writing on the white marble wall, a smile formed on your face.

‘Artist’s Residence Hotel, Brighton’

“Jack, this hotel is really expensive you know.” You told him, eyeing him up.

“No, really? I never knew.” He laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for informing me of that babe. But you are worth every penny and much more.” Jack smiled, pressing his lips against your forehead.

Turning to the receptionist, he smiled. “There should be a reservation under the name of Mr and Mrs Maynard.”

Raising your eyes at him, you giggled. “Not quite Mr and Mrs Maynard just yet.”

“Yet.” Jack smirked, winking as the receptionist handed him a card.

She was very pretty, blonde hair which was tied up into a high pony tail and sparkling blue eyes, adding a sickly sweet smile.

You smiled back, just as sweet as you kissed Jack’s cheek, proving that he was yours.

“We’re in room 217.” Jack informed you, wrapping his arm around you waist, your bag in his other hand as he guided you over to the elevator.

Pressing the button, you leaned your head against Jack’s shoulder, your chest feeling tight with happiness like you were about to explode.

Jack had turned incredibly romantic over the past few weeks. Surprising you with candle lit dinners, a midnight trip on the London eye, having flowers sent to your door when you had returned home to Brighton and he was in London and now this visit to a posh hotel for your 21st in Brighton, as you hadn’t been home for a few months.

God knows what Jack had planned next.

The ping of the elevator, signalling that it had reached the ground floor, interrupted your thoughts as you and Jack stepped in.

The elevator was all lit up in dims lights, with very soft music playing; making this weekend even more romantic and it had only just begun.

Jack hummed along to the music as his arm was still wrapped around your waist.

Before the dim lights, went completely off as you and Jack looked around confused.

“W-What’s happening?” Jack stammered, tightening his grip on your waist as you winced slightly.

“I think the elevator has broken down.” You said, stepping forward as Jack removed his hand from your waist and pressed the alarm button that was on the elevator panel before turning to look at Jack again.

“Jack?” you frowned, as he was now sat on the floor, his knees pulled to his chest and his head was resting on top of his knees.

“Jack?” you repeated, kneeling down next to him and rubbed his arm and you felt him trembling.

“Jack, look at me.” You begged, your voice shaking as you had no idea what was going on.

“I-I don’t know.” Jack murmured, his eyes glued to the floor. You kept your eyes on Jack, unsure of what to say as you still didn’t understand what was happening until Jack sat forward, rubbing his hands on his jeans with his eyes shut tight.

“Y/N, I-I feel really sick.” Jack mumbled, starting to breathe heavy, resting his hand on his chest.

You let out a deep sigh as everything clicked into place, you knew what was happening.

He was having a panic attack.

“Shit.” You mumbled, kneeling infront of him as you tried to steady your voice as you took his hands in yours, which were moist with sweat.

“Okay, Jack. Look at me.” You told him.

Jack shook his head in response, with his eyes still fixed on the floor.

“Jack, look at me now.” You said, your voice turning stern.

Jack let down a deep breath as his hands continued to shake, his face now pale as he looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours.

“Now listen to me, you are going to be fine babe, just keep your eyes on mine and take deep breaths.”

Jack nodded slightly, his eyes fixated on yours as you felt his breathing slow down slightly.

“Just keep breathing and keep hold of my hand. Everything will be fine.” You promised.

Jack now wasn’t the only one shaking, you were so scared of how Jack reacted that you were trembling as well but you continued to keep a tight hold on his hand.

After a few minutes, the dim lights flickered back on and you sighed in relief as Jack stood up, still not letting go of your hand.

“I-I’m so sorry, Y/N. I-I never normally get panic attacks like that.” Jack murmured, looking down as his cheeks flushed red.

“Don’t you dare apologise Jack, you’re fine and that’s all that matters.” You mumbled, stepping closer to him before pressing your lips against his.

Letting go of your hand, Jack moved his hand to your back and the other to your waist after dropping your bag on the elevator floor.

“Thank you, for helping.” Jack mumbled against your lips, his eyes staring into yours once again.

You smiled slightly before glancing down at the floor, widening your eyes as your bag had opened and some of its contents were now sprawled on the floor…

Revealing a small, red, velvet box…

“What’s that?” you asked, suspicion rising in your voice.

Jack’s face dropped, and his entire face flushed bright red like he was sunburnt.

“Erm…” he mumbled, biting down on his lip.

He really had some explaining to do.

Part 2

gators-aid  asked:

Hiiii :)) you've only done one request so far (that I've seen) but I'm already in love with your writing ugh. Can you do a CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!Jimin? I know it's pretty vague and I'm sorry about that :/

i didn’t want this to be like the usual ceo x secretary story so i’m sorry if it’s not what you expected! and thank you for the request, love !

pairing: jungkook/jimin

summary: jimin is clumsy and jungkook likes his secretary


It’s not that I hate my job because I really don’t but it’s exhausting, he is exhausting.

My boss is not a bad person, he is just very difficult. He wants everything to be perfectly done and in time but some things that he expects from me, his secretary is just plain.. impossible? If he had a second secretary, then maybe we could finish all the files but on my own? No way. His father wasn’t this difficult to work with, he was actually kinder than his son. After all, I didn’t work alone like I’m doing today.

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Live Life Golden Part 3

Jungkook x reader

How to read: (y/n) is your name.

Warnings: strong language

Words: 2475

{previous} {next}


He was a graduate of the elite class, inherited billions from his father, and lived the life of an international playboy. (y/n) came into his life and made him question it all.

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